#//As long as he knows the gist of it then it should be fine

[dxfiedfxte]

Thread Move/Relocation from here: X || @mirrorsoftheotherself

It was really nice to see Minato again after everything. They developed a close bond within the False Yasogami; something she cherished even if it developed through her amnesiac self. Through the shared enjoyment of food, his willingness to help her with some of the more smaller things, and his actions as leader, Rei couldn't be any more grateful.

Which reminds her... She has to introduce him to her brother at some point. After the whole incident regarding the Grand Prix thing and how poor Yamato got caught up in that without warning, Minato is the only one left for him to meet. She feels the two would get along!

(Plus, having two awesome brothers (both found and familial) feels amazing.)

Upon hearing the other's hunger related woes, she immediately offered him the water bottle she saved for him. "Sounds like a plan! Also, just in case you also need a drink!"

Once the two would start walking ahead, she would be right next to him.

"How have you been since last time? Hopefully things haven't been too crazy?"

It still felt a little surreal seeing Rei walking around outside in the here and now and not the fake school where he had met everyone else, including the investigation team. With that in mind, he couldn't help but wonder, if his memories of his experience in that dream came back to him with Rei's reappearance, did that also mean Yu and his friends also had their memories of her returned? Or at the very least he assumed so.

Since she was currently enrolled in the same school as they were, he had a feeling they were aware of it all just like Minato and his own friends were, it felt like those memories were sitting there dormant in everyone's mind. The fool could still recall the flood of texts from all his friends upon having their memories returned.

That day, was probably the one day in a very long time when every friend in his group had texted him all at once, asking if he remembered a blond-haired girl named Rei just like they did, a question which he was left to explain it all to them with each confused text, he was pleased that he wasn't working that day. Because it was a day off, he was able to go into great detail for each, allowing him to ease their concern and confirm with them that all those memories were in fact, very real.

Upon learning that Minato was with her at the time, his friends gave him permission to give their numbers to her once they all found out that she was real, and the time spent with her wasn't anything close to fake, just foggy memory due to them being heavily suppressed by an unknown force that seemed to release these memories at the appropriate time and moment -- this being the minute the two reunited.

[{ 🦋 }] - "Hm? Oh, thanks. I'm pretty actually pretty thirsty." With his thanks, he accepts the bottle of water, gulping it all down in one big sip. Once it's empty, he crushes the bottle in his palm and chucks it into the recycling bin nearby, it hits the side and falls inside. His thirst now quenched and now feeling a little more refreshed, he leads their trek towards the aforementioned restaurant.

[{ 🦋 }] - "I'd like to agree, but unfortunately, this season has been the busiest we've had in quite a while, so I've been hard at work for weeks. Lots of haunted locations on our list this year. We have like, seven left to visit before we can complete the season, so my workload has been a bit heavy as of late."

He explains, answering her question in detail. It really had been pretty busy for him recently, and there was still lots left planned as well. It was safe to say, that after these two weeks off, he'd be right back to work, so he was going to enjoy the time off while he still had it.

[{ 🦋 }] - "How's school been? Have you been keeping up with your studies?" Minato asks, putting his hand on the door to the restaurant and pushing it open so they can enter.

[starkeysprincess]

Late Night Needs

pairing: perv!bsf!rafe cameron x oblivious!reader

summary: your best friend, rafe, calls you one night to talk, or so you think.

warnings: male masturbation, smut 18+ only, perv bsf rafe, oblivious/unaware reader, sexual themes

a/n: ty to my faves @oceandriveab for proof reading hehe and @babygorewhore for helping me w the title MWAH

gif creds: @tetragonia

It was currently two in the morning when you woke up to the sound of your phone going off. You grabbed your phone, squinting as you looked to see several missed calls from your best friend, Rafe.

Just as you were about to call him back, your phone rang again. "Rafe?" you mutter as you answer the call but all you can hear is heavy breathing. "Hello?" you call out again and there's a small pause, "Yeah, 's me" his voice is low, "I've been trying to reach you all damn night".

"It's two in the morning" you groan, your eyes can barely stay open. "Just wanted to talk to my best friend, 's all" he breathes heavily, "Hold on, let me facetime you".

Before you can say anything, he switches the call to a facetime call, which of course, you accept it. As soon as he appears on the screen of your phone, you take notice that he was in his bed, sitting up against his headboard. He held his phone at an angle that showed his face and down to gist shirtless chest. “Why are you up?” was the first thing you asked, which made him chuckle, “Can’t talk to my best friend?”.

You give him a look, “At two in the morning?”. He shrugs, “Couldn’t sleep”. There was a pause and you could’ve sworn you heard the faint sound of heavy breathing but brushed it off, “Just got somethin’ on my mind” he added.

His comment makes you sit up in your bed and reach over to turn your bedside lamp on. As soon as you turned on the lamp, the light illuminated your features, causing Rafe to let out a small groan, one that you didn’t hear.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the FaceTime call, Rafe’s room was filled with the wet sounds of his hand stroking himself as he talked to you. His breathing was heavy and he was more than thankful at how oblivious you are.

For as long as Rafe has known you, he always knew you were an oblivious little thing. You never knew what was going on around you. It honestly turned him on even more knowing that you had no clue what he was doing on the other side of the FaceTime call.

"Wanna talk about what's on your mind?" you question, "No, ‘m fine. Just talk, wanna hear you talk" Rafe grunts, "You always make me feel better". You eagerly nodded because you would do anything to make him feel better. He was your best friend, after all.

He wasn’t really paying attention to exactly what you were saying, his mind is too focused on imagining how you’d sound under him as he moves his hand faster on his length and god, he just knew you’d make the prettiest fucking sounds for him.

As much as he loved listening to your voice and seeing your pretty little face on his screen, he desperately needed more. He needed to feel closer to you, almost as if you were with him in his bed.

Luckily, for Rafe, he knew just exactly how he can somewhat get the feeling of you wrapped around him.

He stopped for a second, unwrapping his hand from around himself before reaching into his pillowcase, pulling out a pair of your panties that he had stolen from the last time he was in your room. Sure, it wasn't anywhere near being what your cunt would feel like but it was the closest he could get to.

He wraps your panties around the base of his cock and starts stroking himself again. "Fuck" he groans, his eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. "Everything okay?" your voice rings through his ears, "Mhm, everything's good" he mutters, "So fuckin' good".

"What are you doing?" you ask curiously, still unaware of what he's really doing. "Just takin' care of something, nothing your pretty little head should worry about" he grunts, his hand moving faster as he opens his eyes to look at you while you were too busy paying attention to god knows what.

He bites his lip as he roughly fists his length up and down. The feeling of your panties wrapped around his cock, your voice, and the sight of you was all starting to get to him and he can feel himself getting close.

"Look at me" Rafe commanded with heavy-lidded eyes, his hand never slowing down. You stopped what you were doing and looked into the camera. "Oh fuck" he grunted as he reaches his orgasm, spurts of his cum covering your panties that he had wrapped around him.

"Are you sure you're okay, Rafe?" you question with concern, only to receive a smirk from him, "Never felt better" he mutters as he stares at your panties covered in his cum.

[puppyguppy]

You've been down this damn aisle way too long. Despite not having actually checked the time, you just know it. You can feel it. You've seen others come and go; grab what they need, like a pillow or some new sheets, then leave. But not you. Since apparently, choosing a new mattress has solidified itself as a life or death sort of situation inside of your head. It shouldn't have been this hard -- wouldn't be this hard, if you hadn't seen the sale going on. They're offering the next size up for the price of the next size down. So, like -- you could get a king, for the price of the queen you'd come here for. You've almost always had a queen, at least since being a teenager. And a queen is fine, a queen is good, just enough space for you to roll around some, pick a cooler side if need be, with a corner or two left open for the pet you might actually own someday. All in all, a queen is perfect, so really, there's no need to upsize. You've never even considered it until now. It just seems kind of stupid to turn down such a deal. More comfort, for less? But then...you'll need new sheets. A new comforter. A new duvet. Hell, might as well just get a whole new set for the whole new mattress, right? And, it doesn't make much sense to put old pillows on a new bed, so -- "They never tell you that beds will be one of your biggest battles in adulthood." You jolt, startled out of your spiraling thoughts by a deep, rich mumble. You hadn't noticed the man you've been sharing the aisle with for...gods, you hope it wasn't long. Long enough for him to piece together the puzzle of your struggle, though. You shake off the little scare with a laugh, the feeling only lingering in the goosebumps down your arms. "It wasn't supposed to be this hard. I came here with a plan, believe it or not." The stranger hums, and while he seems to peruse the options, you take a quick few seconds to, well. Peruse him. Tall, dark, and handsome is the gist. Wavy hair thrown half up his head, like maybe he'd been in a hurry, or working out, or just woken up. A bit unkempt, but not unattractive. Stalky, scruffy, and decked out in all colors almost black despite the season. At least they seem loose, everywhere except for where his hands are shoved into his pockets, straining the fabric slightly, and you can't help but wonder -- "One should always have a Plan B. Even maybe C through Z." You laugh again, because really, this is ridiculous, and you should just grab the goddamn bed you'd come here for. Mattresses shouldn't require complex mathematics, an entire alphabet's worth of backup plans, or the entire length of the human emotional spectrum. "Yeah, yeah," you huff, now a bit embarrassed. You're a grown ass adult and yet you feel like you've just been scolded by a highschool teacher or something. "The sale just caught me off guard. I don't want to regret it if I just settle for a queen and miss the chance. Besides, if I get a king and don't like it, I can always just return it, right?" The man shrugs. "Or you could save yourself the trouble. It's not like your room is big enough for a king." You laugh for a third time, because oh, oh my god, he's right. Here you've been fretting and stressing (and honestly? sweating) over beds, when really, there was never a choice. There was just the illusion of choice. You got excited over a sale, about the possibility of an upgrade, and completely forgot about the very real dimensions of your bedroom. And why you've stuck with a queen. "Fuck, you're so right. I couldn't possibly fit a -" You stop. You stop and blink. Because he is right. The goosebumps from just minutes ago shoot straight down to your toes. You swallow, saliva thickening in your throat like cement. "...How do you know that?"

[deanwinchestersbabygirll]

Confessions

-Warnings// ANGST, FLUFF AND LOT OF SMUT also a lil summery: basically reader has feelings for dean they end up in the sheets you get the gist

-Dean x reader

-Word count// 2931

(Gif from Pinterest)

It was a long night and all you wanted was to get some sleep, the hunt took a lot out you, the spirit threw you against the wall and you banged your shoulder up pretty good, Dean was able to pop it right back into place but a dull ache remained, heading to the impala you slide into the back seat holding your arm trying to help ease the pain, Dean started up the car once him and Sam were in heading straight for the first motel you guys find

Finally it didn't take long until Dean was pulling into a parking lot, you slid out of the car stretching your sore muscles a small moan accidentally slipping from your lips which only Dean caught, he turned smirking at you "we should get a separate room so I can listen to that sound all night" Dean said in a flirty tone, Dean and you were always being flirty with each other, it was fun at first but when your feelings for dean grew and he was still sleeping with other girls he met at bars but flirting with you it just hurt so you held back hoping he'd just stop so you could move on and get over him 

You just rolled your eyes in a playful manner hoisting your bag over your good shoulder "you wish Winchester, if we get two rooms I'm getting one for myself and you two can share" Dean shook his head smirking "here let me grab your bag take the weight off your shoulder" he gently grabbed the bag carrying it along with his own towards the motel. 

Once at the  reception desk as Sam spoke with the receptionist booking a room with two beds, the usual, you used to share with dean all the time but things were different when you fell for him, unless he was staying with his hook up and you could get your own bed you bunked with Sam so you didn't have to be so close to dean 

"You can bunk with me tonight sweetheart" Dean said putting your bag on the best closest to the door "oh that's okay Sam already said I could sleep in his bed" you said quickly hoping that would be the end of it and you could get some sleep 

"I don't know Y/N Sam's a restless sleeper he could end up knocking your shoulder out again, remember the time he accidentally kicked you out of bed in New York and broke your wrist" Dean said and he had a fair point, Sam was pretty rough to sleep beside especially when injured poor guy tossed and turned all night 

"I guess your right, maybe I'll stay on the couch so it's safer" you said turning to look at the dusty couch that was probably a century old dean made a face  "no chance that couch looks like someone died on it, look I'll take the couch you take the bed" Dean said making you disagree immediately "no you take the bed I'll be fine Dean" Dean clapped his hands together as he sat on the couch "okay we have two options I take the couch or we share the bed" you sighed knowing you weren't gonna let him sleep on a couch because of your stupid feelings for him

"We'll share" you said moving towards the bathroom to shower. Once the bathroom door was closed dam was on his feet "alright I'm gonna go get pizzas I'm starving what do you want?" He asked grabbing the impalas keys "uh just do pepperoni and get large Y/N I can share cause I know you're a pineapple on a pizza kind of freak" sam gave Dean a bitch face before replying "it's good Dean you would like it if you tried it" before Dean could reply there was a muffled yell from the closed bathroom door "no your just a pineapple freak sweetie" Dean let out a laugh as Sam muttered he'd be back in a half hour.

When you stepped out the bathroom 10 minutes later you were in a park of shorts and an old shirt of Sam's, your hair slightly damp as you only fowl dried it, Dean was sat on the bed as he waited for you

 "hey can we talk?" He asked running a hand over his mouth "yeah of course, whats on your mind?" You asked confused, Dean sighed as he got up from the bed walking until he was in front of you "why are you avoiding me so much? Did i do something to piss you off because I've wracked my brain for days trying to figure out what I did but I just can't figure it out" this was the last thing you wanted, for him to feel like he did something wrong "you didn't do anything Dean I'm just going through something right now and I'm not ready to talk about it" you said hoping he'd just let it go 

"But you're fine with Sam? I just don't get it Y/N we've been best friends for years now you're avoiding me at all costs, just tell me what I did to you so I can try and fix it" Dean said his voice slightly raising as he was getting frustrated "there's nothing to fix Dean" you said defensively "well obviously there is if you don't even want to share a bed with me out of nowhere when we've done it hundreds of times before, what could I have possibly done to hurt you" he yelled "nothing Dean for the last fucking time you didn't do anythi-" "well then what's your problem!" Dean yelled cutting you off 

"You! Your my problem Winchester!" You yelled folding your arms over your chest too upset to even feel the pain in your shoulder, Dean seemed taken aback by your outburst as he stayed silent for a moment "...what's that supposed to mean" he said taking a step towards you "your my problem Dean, do you have any idea how it feels to see the person you love chasing girl after girl in every goddam state" you yelled feeling the hot tears fall down your cheeks 

Dean stared at you his eyes wide and jaw was slack "you love me" he questioned softly "just forget I said anything I'm just gonna leave" you wiped your hands down your cheeks to dry them as you moved to put your shoes on, you didn't get far before dean was grabbing your arm he tugged you to turn and face him, he moved one hand to wrap around your waist and the other was placed at the back of your head, before you could ask what the hell he was doing Dean was leaning in and capturing your lips in a searing kiss taking you by surprise 

You quickly regained you're composure you kissed back running your hands up his chest to rest on his flannel covered shoulders, the hand that was on your waist moved to rest under your ass so dean could hoist you up to wrap your legs around his hips, you moaned as deans hands gripped your ass holding you closer to him, Dean took advantage of your parted lips by slipping his tongue into the kiss

While he held you in his arms he walked you toward the bed Dean broke the kiss  before gently tossing you down on the moldy motel bed, you stared up at him and smiled when he rushed to remove the red checkered flannel from his body leaving him in his grey shirt under neath which too made its way to the floor leaving deans chest completely bare

You got up on your knees booking your fingers in his belt loops and tugging him to fall on the bed his body hovered over yours, you wrapped your legs his hips pulling him closer, Dean kissed a trail up your neck back to your lips, you smiled into the kiss as Dean moved his hands to pull your shirt over your head tossing it to the rest of the pile ok the floor,  leaving you in a white lace bra, Dean smirked as he unhooked your bra throwing it behind him leaving you chest completely bare, your nipples hardened at the cool air 

Dean licked his lips as his warm hands wrapped around your breasts "like what you see handsome" Dean's hands moved from your breasts down your waist to the hem of your shorts his fingers slipping under "you have no idea sweetheart" Dean said biting his kiss swollen bottom lip he began piling you shorts and panties down as you lifted your hips from the bed to help his movements

Your shorts and panties joined the floor you pulled Dean down in a rough kiss your fingers running through his short spiky hair, you moaned at the feeling of deans  Jean clad member pressed against your hot wet pussy, dean moved his lips down to your jaw as he nipped and sucked at your sweet spot leaving a deep purple mark in its place

You loved dean away by his shoulders making him look at you confused and worried he's taken things too far "I don't think it's fair I'm the only naked one now Winchester" you said as you trialed your fingers down deans taut abdomen to his belt buckle, you quickly threw his belt to the floor before rushing to unzip his jeans, Dean pulled his jeans and boxers down before getting back on top of you attacking your swollen lips with his once again

Dean pulled away from the kiss "son of a bitch! I don't have a condom" you giggled playing with the short hair on his head "I'm on the pill" deans smile grew and he leaned down kissing his way down your chest, his lips wrapped around your nipple as he gave it a gentle bite, giving the same attention to your other breast, only stopping him when he went to move lower "you okay?" He asked either arms resting on the side of you

You nodded with a smile "we gotta  be quick Sam won't be much longer" you said and dean nodded knowing you were right, while making his way up your body Dean gave you hip a playful bite causing you to squeal 

Now face to face once again dean leaned down capturing your lips in a gentle kiss, you wrapped your legs around his hips pulling him closer to you his cock pressing against your core moaning when he moved his length up your pussy,  teasing you 

"Dean I can't take the teasing please do something" you begged, Dean smirked as his tip pressed against your dripping hole, finally he pushed in stretching you out inch by inch

You scraped your fingers through deans scalp when he was all the way inside you "you okay sweetheart" he asked noticing your scrunched yo face "yeah totally fine, you can move now I'm ready" you said leaning up to kiss him deeply

Dean placed both hands at the back your thighs pushing them up against your chest as he started to thrust inside of you at a slow pace, the position allowing him to hit your G spot with every slam of his hips "oh Dean that feels so fucking good" you moaned arching your back 

"God your so tight" Dean groaned as he picked up his pace, thrusting faster, the only sound in the room was moans and the sound of skin slapping skin, the feeling of being completely bare inside of you was you crazy, feeling every movement his cock made inside you without the latex keeping you from truly feeling him 

You scraped your nails down deans back as he continued to slam inside of you driving you closer and closer to your release, "I'm so close dean" you cried out feeling the knot in your stomach tightening with every thrust, dean moved his hand down to your core his fingers moving quickly on your clit making you scream, your head slamming against the dusty pillow as your orgasm washed over you coating deans cock in your release 

Dean continued to work your shaking body through your orgasm, finally the bliss was wearing off you looked up locking eyes with dean "you didn't finish?" You questioned and dean shakes his head smiling "we didn't have much time sweetheart I was more focused on getting you off" he shrugged moving to pull out

You moved your legs to wrap around his waist as you flipped him onto his back leaving your straddling his hips, Dean looked up at you shocked "we have plenty of time" you said easing yourself down on his cock once again, Dean let out a soft moan as he moved his hands to your waist, he helped your move up and down his length 

You continued to bounce up and down deans cock, deans eyes were mesmerised on hour breasts as they  bounced with every movement, he moved his hands to grab your tits holding them in his big warm hands "you're fucking amazing Y/N" Dean moaned 

Your braced your hands on deans shoulders as your quickened your movements, moaning when dean leaned forward taking your nipple into his moth as he bit gently and sucked, you knew he was close as his hands tightened their grip on your hip and breast "I'm so close beautiful" he groaned against your chest as he continued sucking deep purple marks 

"Me too baby" you moaned bouncing harder on deans cock, your thighs slamming down against deans, you started to feel the burn in your thighs as you continued to bounce, determined to get dean to cum

Dean groaned as he felt his own orgasm approaching quickly, he moved his hands down to grab your ass but not before I delivering a hard slap on it making you scream his name

Dean groaned loudly "oh fuck!", closing his eyes as you felt him cum inside you, coating your walls in hot white spurts triggering your own orgasm making you scream out deans name 

Once your breathing had calmed you giggled, moving on shaky legs to get off dean, he laughed along side you tucking you closely into his side, you moved your arm to wrap around him, your hand trailed up to trace his anti possession tattoo "I think that was the best sex I've ever had" Dean broke the silence making you smile and look up at him from your place on his chest "well I'm honoured, it was pretty god for me too" you joked

Dean let out a loud laugh "oh come on gorgeous tell me I'm the best sex you've had" you squealed when deans fingers started to attack your sides tickling you "alright! your the best sec I've ever had" you laughed squirming in deans arms as he tickled you.

You and Dean laid there talking for a few minutes  before you heard the door opening "alright I'm back I stopped to get some beer too-oh my god in here stinks of sex, seriously guys!" Sam said staring at the couple in the bed cuddled under the sheets, Dean was laying with a smirk on his face

“Sorry Sammy, be glad you didn’t get walk in 10 minutes ago or you would really be traumatised” Dean joked making Sam roll his eyes “whatever, I’m giving you both 5 minutes to get dressed because it want to eat my pizza without you two being naked in bed!” Sam said closing the door behind him

“Guess we’d better get dressed” you said moving to pull away from dean, he grabbed your arm gently pulling you back down to the bed as he hovered above you slightly, he leaned down giving your lips a gentle kiss making you smile cupping his cheek in your hand “what’s that for?” You questioned when he pulled away

  “because i love you, I have for a while now I just didn’t want to screw anything up, your my best friend I don’t want to loose that, but I want to be with you, I want you to be my girlfriend, so what do you say Y/N?” Dean asked making you smile 

“I love you too Dean so yeah I’ll be your girlfriend, however you gotta take me on a date to make it official ” you said giving him a quick peck on lips before moving away to pull your clothes on again

Dean laughed as he pulled his pants back on “I think we just made it pretty official tonight sweetheart” Dean said making you roll your eyes with a smile “it’s safe to come in now” you called to the closed door and the younger Winchester was coming in his signature bitch face making an appearance as he opened the windows “seriously I’m happy for you guys but next time get your own room” Sam said 

Dean chuckled “you better wear earplugs from now on Sammy” Dean said taking a slice of pizza from the box and taking a sip of beer moving to take a seat on the  couch next to you “your disgusting dean” Sam said with a roll of his eyes you giggled at the brotherly banter

 “I don’t mind it one bit” you said gabbing Deans jaw and pulling him into a quick kiss making the younger Winchester gag causing you both to end the kiss while laughing against each others lips.

_________________________

ALL MY OWN WORK I DO NOT GIVE CONSENT TO COPY OR PUBLISH ON OTHER SITES , I.E WATTPAD, ETC, WITHOUT MESSAGING TO ASK FIRST

[ronearoundblindly]

Steve Rogers, number 4, a kiss where it hurts (imagine him making it stop hurting) xxx

*no pairing listed but could work in Fools Rush In, It Had To Be You, Autumn Is Healing, Threadbare, or as a stand alone. While those series do specify female readers, this is written gender neutral. He calls you 'sweetheart' one time.

A Dark Day and A Bright Night, one of my Valentine's Fics of 2024

Warning only for description of a bad mental health time. (I know not everyone experiences this in the same way, but I tried to cover the gist and focus on Steve's comfort of you.) Otherwise, just sweet, caring fluff! WC 1781

There are invisible barriers everywhere, and they stop no one but you.

No one else can hear the muddled whispers of what else you could have done, what more you should have accomplished, how disappointing it is that anything took so long.

You can’t do any better. You can’t go any farther. There’s a line in the sand no one can see. Sometimes, no one can see you.

Nothing matches up. Work fast-forwards around you in chaos while you slog through, treading water with all the energy of someone who has been out at sea alone for days and days. You grow so tired.

There are moments you power through, mind racing to gain lost ground on an endless, looped track. You grow so tired, and it’s never just one thing. It’s water and sand and nothing all at once, vast forces beyond your control.

What else? What more? Why so long?

There are barriers no one else can see, and it’s not their fault because it doesn’t match up. We move through life at different paces. We experience different struggles. We are stopped by different forces.

“How was work?” Steve asks, a chipper smile on his face as he places dinner in front of you.

“Fine.” There are no other words.

“Really? Seems the project is right on schedule, thanks to you.”

You see him pause before he takes his first bite, and rush to pick up your fork, knowing it’s best to participate, knowing the barriers may be invisible but effort is not.

He eats his mouthful, and you stare.

Dinner isn’t a line in the sand, but it feels like one, another interaction you’ll be disappointing in, another fear you can’t explain.

“Not my best work, but it got done,” you manage, mechanically feeding yourself, showing the effort, making a show of the effort. “How was your day?”

It’s a flat question. The response is muddled by water and wind and doubt.

Why can’t you focus? Why can’t you do better for him? Why does he stay?

Steve can’t see any of it. He can’t get to you because there’s no one place you’re trapped in.

You do the dishes. You watch TV. You start your bedtime ritual, and you’ve participated as little—and as much—as possible because treading water is lonely. You grow so tired.

Tomorrow could be better. You can do better tomorrow. It’ll take effort.

Tomorrow you’ll work harder and you’ll be less afraid. But that’s what you thought the last time you were stuck. That’s what you think each time you find a line in the sand.

You stare at your reflection, still treading, still scared, still misaligned.

“Did you hear me?” Steve loosely holds you with his palm on your hip. Standing behind you, face sullen in the mirror, he asks where you’re hurting.

To Steve, there has to be a solution. Each mission must have a goal.

You spit, rinse, and put your toothbrush in the holder.

“Just tired.” That’s the sand he cannot see.

“Seems like more than ‘just tired,’” he huffs, unsatisfied, and turns you toward him. “Tell me.”

“It’s nothing you can help with.” That’s the water he cannot navigate.

You’re on your own.

He smirks humorlessly. “That’s never stopped me before.”

But you don’t have the words. All that comes out is “my head.”

“Headache?” He reaches for the medicine cabinet. “You need some—“

You shake your physically fine skull. “No. It’s not a headache.”

Steve’s face…changes in a way you’ve never seen before. You expected confusion, perhaps pity, but this is something all-together reminiscent. His eyes dart around the bathroom like he’s taking inventory, and for the first time today you aren’t the most distracted person in the room.

Then he returns to you.

“I think I’d like a nice bath. Will you join me?”

He sets it all up, using the best smelling bubbles, setting out the softest towels, and inviting you back into the little spa he created by handing you a lovely chocolate.

When you try to refuse because you’ve already brushed your teeth, he replies, “live dangerously,” and pops a bonbon for himself.

Hopefully, it is dark enough for Steve to miss the tears in your eyes.

He lets you settle in the water against him, playing by splashing warmth over the parts not submerged. He kisses your shoulders and neck, the back of your head. Steve keeps himself attached by the lips, breathing you in but feeling so far away. Your mind wanders to nowhere, thinking nothing.

“Feels good—I mean, bett—feels okay, yeah?”

He suds up his hands and washes a bit of you, but your muscles are tight and curled.

You’re tucked into yourself, small as can be.

“Can you try to relax for me, sweetheart? Can you let yourself float?”

The tub works for a guy Steve’s size. There’s a little space but not enough to stretch out completely.

The tension in your body is slow to release. You manage to let your arms, knees, and feet peak through the bubble clouds.

Steve nudges, “and your neck?”

You didn’t realize you were holding it up.

There is infinite space to lay flat in your endless sea. Floating offers a respite, a view of the sky, the same sky blanketing your beach.

Invisible barriers at least spare the scenery.

You and Steve watch the fragrant foam burst for a while. It takes you much longer to truly relax back into Steve. The quiet of the bath drowns you with the noise in your head.

What else? What more? Why so slow?

It’s never just one thing. It is all things, all at once, and nothing at all. All of the elements to survival and understanding are there if you just focus your attention, if you just put in the effort, but you are so tired.

Steve wraps you in his arms to press you deeper into his chest.

“Sometimes my ma would burn dinner,” he starts quietly, voice rough from holding back all his questions you can’t answer, “and we would scramble around, combing the cupboards. We’d make the oddest meals out of bits and bobs. Maybe half of it, we should’a never touched, but we did what we had to. Ya know what? Those were some of the best times. We did the best we could with what we had—sometimes less—and that’s what made her so amazing. On what she probably considered her worst days,” Steve kisses behind your ear, “I admired her the most. Formed some of the best memories.”

“Let me guess. Because she smiled the whole way through?”

“Nah,” he muses, chuckling enough to shake you in the water, “she threw a pan once. Loosened the door of the stove she slammed it shut so hard. She cried usually until we were sat down eating. Always tried to give me the most food because I was so small… 

“I made it a game. I only took a bite if she did. Win-win.” 

He stays quiet for a beat, assured you’re hearing him.

“You’re not ruining anything by crying,” he says solidly, almost loud in the confines of the bathroom. “Good things can still happen. You still did good today.”

He continues. He details little things he admires about you; how hard you work for yourself, for him, he notices all that. He wants you to see what he sees.

There’s no barrier stopping him.

The water turns tepid, and Steve gets out first to ready a towel for you. There’s a difference between him treating you like a china doll and his doll. His doll is not breakable. He isn’t gentle because you are fragile; he does it to preserve you for the next day, and the next. Steve refuses to place any more burden on you than already falls.

He’s right there, strong, noble, and determined with forces working against him.

He’s scared and he doesn’t understand. He can’t fight. He has to scramble to catch up, to change plans, to make a meal out of nothing, to turn nothing into something. He doesn’t understand why he’s in a different sea, or why he can’t get to you standing on the same damn beach. His hand is right there on the barrier, but his shouts are muddled.

It’s not fair, and it never will be.

He physically lifts you up, wrapped in a plush bath sheet, his hug strong enough to thump against that clear wall that springs from your line in the sand.

That’s when you realize the barrier isn’t impenetrable. You can still see the scenery. You can still hear muddled sounds.

Some of his voice gets through. Sunlight and warmth get through. The water still buoys you up.

If there are directions to go, there are paths to take.

If there are ways in, there are ways out. 

There are invisible barriers everywhere, but they don’t stop Steve from being there for you.

One more chocolate. One more brush of your teeth. You trade the fluffy wrap of a towel with the cozy wrap of a t-shirt, and he makes sure you’re comfortable.

A simple goodnight kiss alone might tip you over into exhausted euphoria, but Steve is not that kind of simple.

He props himself up on an elbow and rolls you onto your back.

Kissing your right temple, he whispers, “I love you.” Kissing your left temple, he confesses, “I love your voice,” the peak of your forehead, “I love your spirit,” between your eyebrows, just above one ear, and the other.

“Miss you when I’m not here. Miss you when you’re not here. I miss you even in my dreams.”

Then, and only then, do you get that simple kiss goodnight. His soft lips melding to yours for a long, soothing moment before you two drift off to sleep.

When you dream of a beach and an ocean and nothing at all, you miss him, too. You remember his presence, and the truth becomes as clear as the sky above.

There are pieces of you to love. You are a loved thing. You are light and heat and sound that can get through, even when misaligned, even when you don’t match up, even when not in the same sea.

Steve’s love is invisible, but you know it’s there. It’s not a limit to fear. It’s not a barrier to turn away from. His love is not an obstacle you want to get past.

Not every invisible force is bad.

Sometimes, barriers slow you down, let you listen, make you rest, and help you float.

There are barriers everywhere, but nothing between you and Steve.

Ransom Drysdale and a kiss out of spite ⬅️ ➡️ Ari Levinson and a kiss out of envy

A/N: oof. *walks away crying* I'm fine. It's fine.

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @spectre-posts @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @deandreamernp @im-a-slut-for-fluff @fangirl-swagg @georgeweaslysgirl @austynparksandpizza  @claireelizabeth85 @jamneuromain @shelbygeek @rogersideup @eyebagsanonymous @trudy-shams @saranghaey @awkwardgiraffe726 @rach2602 @royalwritersoftheuniverses @rogersbarber

[gold-rhine]

What the guard dogs are for

There are some things you never want to hear your secret years-long crush saying, such as “I’m getting married,” “I think we should stay friends” or “I’m the destroyer of the present order, the one who shall judge all gods, and the foe of humanity.” Wriothesley’s very bad, no good day of trying to unravel conspiracy theories, fumbling a tea party with Chief Justice and learning Teyvat’s ancient history and vishap lore from the leading expert lector.

Genre: angst and misinformation campaign

Characters: Neuvillette\Wriothesley, Enjou

Warnings: sfw in a sense that nothing even remotely sexy happens, but there is dissociation, ptsd episode, brief mention of self-harm, and Enjou doing same thing he does in canon, which is not quite gaslighting? Anyway, let me know if you feel any other warnings need to be added.

Chapters: 1 out of 2. Wordcount: ~8k

With his morning tea, Wriothesley riffled through the reports as usual. Nothing was marked urgent, so he started with the most boring part, - the official ones. The production numbers, coupon consumption statistics, everything is prepared for Neuvillette’s upcoming inspection, which was mostly a formality, but he would want it to go as smoothly as possible. 

Reports from the surface informants. Traveler stirring up a ruckus with the research institute… Well, about time, that pit couldn’t go on forever pretending that massive explosions are just a part of science routine. 

Next, creatures called “vishaps” appeared recently in Erinnyes Forest. These vishaps are apparently a lesser form of dragons, and connected to Liyue vishaps, also lizard-like creatures, though in Liyue they are aligned with geo, not hydro. Non-hostile to humans, aside from one accident. But in that one they fought back against the hunters sent by nobles to capture them as novelty pets. So the only regrettable part was that they didn’t get the nobles, only their lackeys. For shame. 

Next, there are gangs with new lingo going around, which generally was a good thing to pay attention to as they usually ended up in Meropide. Wriothesley frowned, reading the lingo translations, as he suddenly felt old. “Trendy Zaytun Peach” was something he’d got called for taking it up the ass a lot in his days, but now it’s a hip and cool nickname with the youngsters. 

Informal internal reports. Victims of beret society are rehabilitating fine, preparations for the wedding are underway. Good. Albert, a new guy from the shop, is sending him tea. Quite good tea at that. Obviously a bribe attempt, though he didn’t ask for anything as of yet, so it was basically free. Everything was fair in love and bribes as far as Wriothesley was concerned. You could throw everything at the feet of your beloved as to the feet of your targeted bureaucrat, and receive nothing and you would have no claim to complain. Now, the fact he wouldn’t take it into account when making decisions about their proposals, and sometimes would even consider it a negative, was a different matter altogether. 

He perked up reading the last report. There was a new conspiracy, whose agenda was not very clear, as they were more careful than the others, but the gist was something against Neuvillette, so Wriothesley was tracking it for some time. It was hard to get anything concrete though, as they were pretty good at keeping a low profile, but now apparently one of the members by the name of Jacque got into the Fortress on unrelated charges, and he was reportedly not the brightest shank on the block. 

Wriothesley made the arrangements. 

Half an hour later, he happened to stroll by when Jacque was being beaten up by three guys in the shadowy corner. 

“Hey, what’s going on here? Leave him alone!” he said, walking up to them.

“Oh yeah?”, said one of the bullies, turning to him. “Well, make me!”

They were paid double for the pretend fight. It might have been an overkill, usually Wriothesley would go for just scaring them off without combat. Especially because anyone who’s been in the Fortess for some time or had a head on their shoulders would understand that nobody would try to openly fight the Duke outside of the fight club arena. But Jacque was as fresh as they get, allegedly stupid, and it was Wriothesley’s first chance at any info in two whole months, so he decided to make it as impressive as possible.

He went as easy on the guys as he could, they theatrically threw the fight and retreated. 

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, kneeling next to the guy in the corner and putting his hand on his shoulder for emphasis. 

“Yeah, yeah, I think I’m fine,” Jacque muttered, shaking his head. 

“Why did they attack you?”

“They don’t want me to spread the truth...” Jacque said with heavy emphasis. “But uh, thanks for helping me out.” 

“No need to thank me. I feel bad enough that honest folk like yourself get picked on in MY Fortress. That’s not how I want to run my place, so it’s only natural that I stand up for you.”

It took a moment, but finally the guy gasped.

“Your fortress? Are you… the Duke?”

At least he knew what “Duke” is.

“Yeah,” Wriothesley grinned, turning up the charm. “And allow me to get you a couple of drinks to compensate for the rude welcome you’ve received so far.”

He got them to the Coupon Cafeteria, where best meals were already arranged, and generously poured alcohol into the poor guy, listening to the story of his life and misfortunes that brought him to the Fortress, nodding empathetically. He didn’t ask about Neuvillette at all, to not spook the target, trusting that he will come to this anyway, and finally his patience was rewarded. 

“You know, you’re good!” the guy said drunkenly after some time, clasping his hand on Wriothesley's shoulder, which he beared stoically, grinning with all friendliness in the world. 

“You know, they say we can’t talk to you because you’re bought by that lizard, but I think you’re a good guy. You just don’t know all the facts!”

“Which are?”

The guy leaned closer to him and lowered his voice to a dramatic whisper. “Neuvillette is an evil dragon!”

Wriothesley choked on a laughter, which was way too obvious to turn into cough even for the dunce this stupid. 

“No, you don't understand! Dragons were enemies of humanity that Celestia conquered. But they come back when killed! They reincarnate! He is a hydro dragon who was reborn in a human form so he could more easily trick us!”

Wriothesley blinked, remembering Neuvillette standing under the rain, and the old children’s song. “Hydro dragon, Hydro dragon, don’t cry….”

“He put our rightful archon Furina on that trial, right? No one else saw the verdict, so he pretended she was declared guilty. He forced her to abdicate and took the power for himself!”

Wriothesley realized long ago that Neuvilette, of course, was not human. It was clear to any idiot who talked to him for longer than a minute in an informal setting, not to mention a lifespan of at least five hundred years. But there were a lot of options other than “evil dragon”. There were old gods who did not receive archonhood, but instead decided to serve the archon, like Liyue’s adepti, and he always assumed Neuvillette was of the same kind. But the idea that Iudex was some kind of evil monster with a grudge against humanity was ridiculous. Especially when he showed up at the Fortress and saved the entire Fountaine and Wriothesley’s own hide from the flood.

“Really?”

“Yeah! We should restore our true archon Furina to her rightful throne!”

Furina’s insurrection? Interesting. Wouldn’t peg her for someone capable of this type of conspiracy.

“And did Furina herself give us her blessing?”

“She can’t speak publicly, as this monster threatens her.”

Hmm, inconclusive on Furina’s involvement.

He spent more time with the drunk Jacque, trying to get more details, but couldn’t get much more than unhinged ramblings on how evil the dragons are and how insidious it was for a dragon to pretend to be a human. He had to leave to prepare to Neuvillette's arrival the next day.

_____

Neuvillette stepped out of Opera Epiclese into the rain and slowed down his pace to prolong the sensation. It was a bit of what humans called guilty pleasure, as he felt guilty from inflicting rain on humans for his own pleasure. Though from his understanding, humans felt guilty because they saw this pleasure as something bad for themselves. Even if often this supposed harm made no sense to Neuvillette. Eating too much food until a human's stomach hurt was at least understandable to see as such, but he heard one of palais’ secretaries say that romance novels were her guilty pleasure. How could humans feel guilty for something as simple as reading? He stopped and asked her why she would feel guilty for reading, because melusines kept telling him that socializing with humans is very easy, you just need to ask them questions about themselves and let them talk about what they like. Well, it didn’t seem to work, as the secretary stumbled, started hyperventilating and emanated levels of panic and anxiety comparable to someone in the defendant’s chair. Sensing human emotions did not actually help Neuvillette in communicating with them, as he could not discern the reasons. He asked her if she perhaps came into possession of any cursed texts? He could generally sense the stench of corruption and there was nothing on her, but there was always a possibility that it was a curse he could not register. She panicked even more and vehemently denied. At this point he decided to give up on socializing, as it was obviously very distressing for humans, but felt obliged to tell her that if she ever did read anything she felt was cursed, to inform him. He hoped it would assuage her fear of reading. She thanked him, stuttering, and after that day avoided him at all costs. 

The rain was a compromise solution in any case. Neuvillette always felt a bit strained and uncomfortable in his body, but after obtaining full dragonhood and most of the memories of past lives, the human shape felt downright stifling. He now remembered thousands of years of being something much bigger, long coils that could easily crush the spire of Opera Epiclese. Now, when he looked at his own reflection, it was hard to comprehend that this small and ridiculous frame was actually him. In addition, all of his memories and instincts called him to be submerged in water. But even with his poor understanding of humans, he realized that seeing the Iudex floating in the river would alarm humans much more than him standing under the rain. So rain was the closest solution he could get at his position. 

He summoned rain instinctively, to be as close to engulfed in water as possible. It was a bit embarrassing that even humans noticed it and composed a rhyme, even if that rhyme was inaccurate. He didn’t cry, as vishaps didn’t cry at all and even his current human shaped body didn’t have tear ducts. The closest he could pinpoint to human experience, as he understood it, was being stressed and desire to be comforted, for which water was his best remedy.

And currently he was quite stressed, looking over the Fontaine laws in an attempt to revise them. The current system that treated justice as theater was clearly imperfect, which he realized long ago. But he never saw himself as authorized to change it, as humans were the responsibility of the archon and even without it, he was well aware he didn’t understand humans, so he knew it wasn’t his place to question the human justice system, to which he was only a temporary guest. But now, as fontanias became part of Teyvat after his decision, and so, a part of his responsibility as Teyvat’s god of life, even if the usurper tried to deny him, he couldn’t ignore the need for change any longer. The problem was that he did not understand humans any better, so it was very stressful to try and restructure their systems of governance. 

He extended a hand, catching raindrops on his palm, when he noticed a silhouette near the elevator to the Fortress, and stopped himself from visibly controlling the weather. 

Wriothesley caught his eyes and grinned, approaching him at brisk pace, umbrella over his head.

“Greetings, Monsieur.”

“Good morning, Your Grace.”

Wriothesley always somehow managed to make a “Monsieur” sound more impactful than Neuvillette could “Your Grace”, despite one being a noble title and another just a polite greeting. 

“Would you like to…?” Wriothesley extended his arm with an umbrella, without actually covering Neuvillette with it. In the past, as a part of playing a role of “normal human”, Neuvillette accepted such offers, though there were not many aside from Wriothesley who dared to approach him with it. But now, as he was a full-fledged dragon, at the height of his power and influence in this land, surely he could afford to discard this role? Surely he could afford to be himself at least in this?

“No, thank you,” he said, smiling and trying to sound as cordial as possible, so that Wriothesley would not think it was a slight against him personally. “Don’t take it as offense, but I actually like being under the rain.”

The Duke smiled back, shaking his head.

“No offense taken, but why didn’t you say it last time? I felt like an idiot forcing you under an umbrella.”

“Really?” Neuvillette perked up, falling in step with the human. “You could tell that I…”

“Hated it? Yeah, for sure.”

“....prefered not to have an umbrella.”

Wriothesley let out a low, guttural bark of laughter that somehow got to the dragon despite him not being interested in humans in general.

“Not only I could tell I disturbed you, but I had to walk on the flowerbed to get to you, and then I trailed dirt in the Palais while everyone here glared at me for the audacity. Meanwhile you walked on the same dirt, but stayed pristine!”

“I’m sorry for…”

“Hey, don’t apologize. I’m just kidding, don’t worry.”

Neuvillette met the greyish blue eyes of thawed ice directly and sensed that he was truly not bothered, which didn’t make much sense. But Wriothesley was one of the very few humans who was not scared in the dragon’s presence. He was, probably, the only one who emanated only positive emotions at their meetings. Neuvillette mostly encountered negative reactions in his daily life at the trials, so he could not tell apart which positive feelings exactly that he read from Wriothesley due to the lack of exposure. But perhaps…

“I wouldn’t want you to feel unwelcome at the Palais,” Neuvillette said after a short pause.

Wriothesley grinned with a careless shrug.

“Then I will be there, even if the rest of your bureaucrats make faces. As I said, don’t worry.”

Neuvilette frowned, but didn’t see much point in pressing this further. After a confrontation with Navia, the dragon realized that his lack of understanding of humans hindered him, instead of making him truly impartial. Especially now that he was de facto in charge of the entire Fontaine government. And practice showed that only direct interaction with humans could give valuable experience, as watching from the Iudex seat did not allow him a nuanced understanding. 

So perhaps, if Wriothesley was a rare human who was not scared of him, and he proved rational and trustworthy in the years they knew each other, Neuvillette could confide in his true nature and maybe ask for advice in understanding humanity?

“Perhaps staying for some tea would make up for this past offense?”

Wriothesley stumbled for a moment.

“Seriously?” He sounded as casual and ironic as usual, but the surprised burst of positive emotions from him was bright and obvious. “After all these years you finally decided to deign my humble office with your presence?”

“It’d be a completely unofficial visit, of course.”

“Sure, sure. It was never my secret plot to bribe you with a tea party, trust me, even I realize my tea is not that good.”

His voice was ironic, but for a moment Neuvillette could see his crooked grin turn into a genuine smile. So, reassured that he was not imposing, Iudex nodded and followed the human into the Fortress’ entrance.

_________

The inspection itself was mostly a formality. The Court of Fontaine technically had no direct authority over Meripode, but it provided guards and substantial resources, and so it had a right to oversee the use of these assets. The actual budgeting was done on the regular in behind the scenes reports though, as the data was not visible in the in person visit. Still, it was a time honored tradition that got Neuvilette to show up regularly.

“Take a seat. It will take me a minute to make tea.”

Neuvilette gracefully sat down on the visitor’s chair In Wriothesley office, folding his hands on the cane. He still sat with a ramrod straight back and perfect posture, but there was a certain lightness to him today, which was hard to put into words. 

“The inspection is over, yet you are still nervous.”

Wriothesley knew he had a poker face good enough to cover it, yet Neuvillette saw it anyway. He had theorized for a long time that the Iudex could sense emotions, but usually he would not acknowledge it directly like this. “I wasn't nervous about the inspection to begin with. But inviting a high and mighty Iudex himself to the tea for years and then disappointing him when he finally accepts would be a devastating faux de pas. They will mock me on the first pages of all the papers tomorrow.”

Neuvillette frowned slightly.

“I must underline that I’m not here in any official capacity, and I would hope I’m talking to Wriothesley, not the Warden or the Duke. If you agree, I would ask that we leave the titles at the door.”

“No, of course,” Wriothesley, who had fantasized about leaving titles at the door and then clothes on the floor for actual years, said quickly, frantically recalculating how he could turn the tea party to wine tasting, which best wines he had confiscated in his storage and how he could make turning on the gramophone and then maybe leaning against the edge of the table in front of Neuvillette look natural and smooth. “Absolutely. I was just joking anyway, don’t mind it.”

“Ah, I see. I apologize, I’m unfortunately prone to missing humorous intent, so I appreciate your clarification.”

With how far the Iudex went out of his way to assure people of his good intentions in informal situations, Wriothesley really didn’t understand how everyone found him so intimidating. Especially because he very often had to interact with assholes in positions of power who did try to intimidate him on purpose and the contrast was very apparent. Neuvillette projected an aura of power without really wanting to, and then tried to over-explain himself to make others feel at ease. His earnest awkwardness was something like the clumsiness of a huge beast like an elephant trying not to step on the gaggle of kittens at his feet.

“In any case, there is nothing to be nervous about. After all, tea is liquid, and it’s really hard to make liquids unpleasant. So far I think only Fonta truly managed it.” Neuvillette drummed his fingers on the table and glanced at Wriothesley. “To be frank, if crimes against water could be prosecuted, Fonta would receive life in prison.”

Wriothesley snorted. “So no sugar in your tea, I take it?”

“No, thank you,” Iudex said politely and then, after a short pause, “And to clarify, I was not serious. There is nothing wrong with people liking sugary drinks, of course. I was just making an attempt at a joke.”

He really was horrendously bad at pretending to be a human. How could anyone hear him talk and still believe he’s a scheming manipulator was beyond ridiculous.

“No, I got it. It was a good joke,” The Duke grinned, placing a teacup in front of Neuvillette and sitting down across the table with his own.

Neuvillette gave him a graceful nod with a little smile and picked up his cup, giving it a swirl before tasting.

“Hmm. Interesting. Poignant. Bitter,” he said thoughtfully, tilting his head. 

Wriothesley was about to mention that this sort was not usually bitter, but Iudex continued. 

“Not by nature, but forced by circumstances. Not nearly enough water to be nourished, so it had to adapt and conserve strength, letting leaves seen as unimportant to die and concentrate on survival of the main branches. But there is not just hunger… there is a dream of rain. An ache of something not ever known, but yearned, longed for, without realizing what it is. But then…” Neuvillette closed his eyes for a moment. “It happened. There is a memory of luminous joy of water not gathered by mere drops, but drank in full, overwhelming, a feast after a life of fighting for scraps of morning dew. It had tasted rain at least once in the end.”

Wriothesley put his own cup down, leaning forward in disbelief.

“No way. This was a harvest from a drought year and it’s normally a mild sort, considered unusually strong in this season. How could you know this? Are you cheating?”

“You’re welcome to test me with other samples,” Neuvillette said with an air of a magnanimous ruler granting a boon and put the teacup down with a delicate clink. 

“Oh, I’m taking you up on your word, trust me,” the Duke grinned, but then paused. He didn’t want to spoil the mood, but he remembered how strongly Neuvillette felt about the perceived melusines conspiracy. Wriothesley had to tell him about the evil dragon idiots just to make sure he’s not thrown off balance later. That’s what the guard dogs are for, after all.

“Actually, before we move forward with testing your psychic tea reading abilities, there is something concerning official business that I think you should know. And then we can forget it completely.”

Neuvillette inclined his head with a small smile.

“There is a small group of conspirators, - and I must reiterate, it’s very small - who operate on the ridiculous idea that… uh, that you’re some kind of an evil dragon who schemed to overthrow Furina.”

Neuvillette's smile froze.

“You don’t have to worry about it, really. It’s negligibly small, and well, anyone with a working brain would not believe that you’re a monster in disguise.”

Iudex was silent for some time, not meeting Wriothesley’s eyes.

“Are melusines implicated in this?” he said finally.

“No. No, there’s no connection to them in this stupid theory.”

“Good. That's good. They do love living with humans so much.”

Wriothesley suspected that Iudex was taking things kind of out of proportion again.

“Listen, it’s really nothing…”

“No, no, I understand. It would be so unacceptably horrifying for humans to learn their ruler is a… monster.”

Neuvillette's voice wavered, but his face was impartial, strict, previous lightness gone completely. Wriothesley saw his hands tighten their grip on the handle of his cane a moment before he abruptly stood up.

“I must apologize for impropriety, but I have important business in the Palais which was inappropriate for me to neglect for so long. I must beg your leave to depart.”

Wriothesley stood up too, scraping to understand what he did wrong.

“Wait, it’s not…”

“Thank you for your time, Your Grace.”

Wriothesley shut his mouth, the title feeling like a slap for the first time in his life. The formality and politeness somehow only made it worse. He took a deep breath and willed himself to sound calm.

“I hope you have a nice evening, Monsieur Iudex.”

Neuvillette left in what for his usual dignified pace could be considered a hurry. Wriothesley followed him without being seen, partly to make sure he doesn’t get bothered by inmates and partly on an instinct to investigate. 

At the Fortress’ entrance, he watched Neuvillette walk under the rain, lifting his head upward. The blue strands of his long hair glowed and so did his coat-tails. They extended, shining brilliant bioluminescent blue, trailing behind the Chief Justice, in a moment looking like fish’s fins, then the next - as colossal snake’s coils. Sea waves crashed against the ridge without any wind, rising high, reaching to a lonely glowing figure of Iudex. With bated breath, Wriothesley watched Neuvillette extend a hand, as if catching raindrops - and rain stopped mid-flight in the air, lingering over his palm, waves frozen cresting over the earth. The raindrops gathered in a shuddering spheres, and then stretched upwards, against all laws of gravity.  Wriothesley’s heart skipped a beat as Neuvillette closed his fist and the rain flew backwards to the skies.

Wriothesley stormed back into his office and frantically searched through the reports, pages flying about, until he found the one about vishaps. He looked at the photos, seeing similarities he would never look for before. The dark blue color of vishap’s hide was nearly identical to Neuvillette’s attire, but that was small beans, easily written off as coincidence. Their eyes, bright magenta with white vertical slice of a pupil, resembled Iudex, but there was room for debate, as his eyes were much paler, lilac merging into gentle blue instead of a bright pink, even as white vertical pupil was so similar. What really struck Wriothesley after all this, was actually the little blue feather at the side of the head of both vishaps and Neuvillette. It was identical and looked so… deliberate. It had to be chosen and placed precisely like this. 

Still, this was not enough. He needed more evidence. He needed… he needed answers.

He walked to Jacque's block as quickly as he could without alarming inmates, but when he got to the conspirator’s room, Jacque was sleeping on the bed and a man was sitting on the chair next to him, reading a book. He looked up when Wriothesley walked in and stood up, clumsily dropping the book. He was tall and gangly, had dark hair, Inazuman features and light brown eyes behind the glasses. 

“Who are you?” Wriothesley was really not in the mood for playing games.

“Well, my organization caught wind that you are interested in learning some… historical information, and our poor Jacque is really not the best source, which is why I’m here to answer any questions you have,” the man gave him a groveling smile. “You can call me Enjou.”

“Not here. In my office. Follow me.”

When they got there, Enjou whistled musingly.

“Uh, what a nice office! Must be a pretty sweet gig. I wish I had an office instead of slinking in dump ruins all the time.” He sighed theatrically. “So, I assume your main questions are on the vishap situation. I…”

“Wait,” Wriothesley said, walking up to one of his wall cabinets. “You can’t expect me to just believe you on your word.”

“Oh, of course, of course! You’re free to rough me up a bit first. Maybe a little bit of torture? But only a little bit, I’ve got a glass jaw, haha!”

Wriothesley didn’t live so long as an undisputed champion of fight club to not recognize a freak who gets off on pain. He grimaced, walking up to the table where Enjou was already trying to rifle through the papers. He stopped with an apologetic grin and put his hands up. Wriothesley put a glass vial on the table.

“Drink.”

Enjou raised his eyebrows.

“Are we dining and wining first or?...”

“It’s a truth serum,” it was a secret project of the Sumeru Akademiya, before the sages were overthrown. Dendro Archon reportedly could read the thoughts of people, and sages were trying to replicate the effect at least partially. Wriothesley came into possession of it after using his network to get the sages connected to the needed people in Fontaine institute, as Fontaine was at the cutting edge of mech technology and the sages were apparently building an artificial god. Didn’t pan out for them, but the serum worked. Wriothesley was sure of it, because he tried it on himself first.

“Oh! How exciting! How does it work? Will it perhaps burn my insides in agonizing pain if I lie?”

“Drink,” Wriothesley said through gritted teeth.

Enjou smiled and drank the vial in one shot.

“Well, nothing is burning so far, but the evening is young, haha,” he said, smacking his lips.

Wriothesley took a deep breath.

“Why are you here?”

“Huh? What do you mean? To explain the history to you, as I said.”

“Because of the goodness of your heart? What’s your agenda? Your goal?”

Enhou cleared his throat.

“Well, first of all, I do believe in uncovering and spreading so-called “forbidden” knowledge. But with your particular case can you really question my agenda? I didn’t come to you first. You were the one who sought us out. I didn’t even want to be here! I was doing my own thing without knowing about you, to be honest! But, well, I am in an organization with some unfortunate morons who thought that recruiting a convenient idiot and then sending him into underworld prison to make sure he isn’t heard is a great plan. And then when the Warden takes note of the idiot and gets him to blabber, these same morons go, Enjou, you have to get there, because you’re a vishap expert! Ugh.” 

Enjou shook his head in seemingly sincere frustration.

“But um, yeah, I’m not trying to recruit you or anything. We know how you’ve disposed of House of Hearth agents and how you generally obstruct Fatui’s activity, and we just don't want you to do the same to us. Because we’re not your enemy! So I’m here to provide you with the necessary context to see that.”

Wriothesley drummed his fingers on the table.

“Okay. Start talking about Neuvilette and vishaps.”

“Well, Neuvilette is a Hydro Dragon, that should be obvious. To clarify, Hydro Dragon here means Hydro Dragon Sovereign, because technically all hydro vishaps are hydro dragons. If you didn’t know, which is understandable, as you’re more of a fighter type and not a bookworm like myself, haha, vishaps are primordial elemental creatures, original rulers of this land and mortal foes of humanity. Long before Archons, there were Dragon Sovereigns in charge of each element. Then there was a war with Celestia, specifics of which are not widely known, but we do know that Celestia won, dragons were largely eradicated and the huge chunks of powers of Sovereigns were taken from them and given to the Archons. Hydro Sovereign was killed.” 

Enjou made a dramatic pause, before leaning forward with a grin. “But you see, vishaps reincarnate. Neuvillette is a Hydro Sovereign reborn in a human shape. There was actually an Inazuman prophecy about it, recorded in the Byakuyakoku Collection. That Hydro Dragon will descend in a human form, and it specifically mentions a cane. This really baffles me, to be honest. How could they predict the cane? Why does he even need a cane? Surely not because of any weakness, he’s an immortal dragon, 500 years is very young for him. And the records say when Neuvilette took his position as the Iudex some 400 years ago, he already had a cane. Was he born with it? Like, had he sprung fully formed, with a cane? Did he pick it up as, I don't know, honorary agreement with a prophecy? Or were his fashion choices actually predetermined to the degree that the prophecy knew them millenia ago?”

“Get back on track,” Wriothesley growled.

“Oh, sorry. Hmm, this serum works by forcing you to spell your thoughts out loud, yes? Well, then it’s not my fault I’m even more blabbering than usual!”

Wriothesley clasped his hands together and said slowly, carefully watching Inazuman’s reaction. “Even if he is a hydro sovereign dragon, as you say, this alone does not make him evil, as your conspiracy claims.”

Enjou fixed his glasses. He really had the hands of a bookworm, no work calluses or fighting scars. But there were spots of reddened, peeling skin that looked like burns that didn’t get to fully heal before getting burned again.

“Did you miss the “mortal foe of humanity” bit? But okay, sure. This is Fontaine after all, presumption of innocence and all that. I mean, I can’t read his thoughts to tell you under oath that he’s evil, so don’t take me to court, hehe!” Enjou grinned, clearly pleased at his own joke. “But I can tell what I know and ask some questions. My first question is why, after losing a war and presumably being killed by Celestia, would an ancient dragon god want to serve a servant of Celestia? The Archon, who rules with what is actually his own power? Unless he had some sort of agenda, perhaps? And come to think of it, why would Hydro Archon put a mortal foe of humanity into a position of such institutional power?”

“Are you implying Neuvilette forced Furina to give him the position of Iudex?”

“Well, I wasn’t here!” Enjou raised his hands defensively. “But why else would he become the Iudex?”

“There are higher beings and gods serving archons in other nations. Like Liyue adepti serving Rex Lapis.”

“Morax was known as the prime of the adepti. None of them could compare with him at strength. Same with yokai and Baal in Inazuma, she was the strongest by far. It’s natural that they would accept servitude. But here…” Enjou glanced at Wriothesley with a sly smile. “If you had to make a bet on a direct fight between Neuvillette and Furina, who would you bet on? Come on, I know tales that her own court would not listen to her until the Iudex tapped his cane.”

Wriothesley couldn’t really argue with this. When the Primordial Sea started breaking out, he himself sent for Neuvillette and didn’t even think to ask the actual Archon.

“In that case, why didn’t he just kill her immediately? Why would he play the judge?”

“Well, you see, he would not get his power back from just killing her. It would just pass to the next Archon. No, the Hydro Archon had to destroy her own throne. And running out the ruler requires a long game, as you know very well yourself, You Grace.”

Wriothesley kept a calm face, but something must have given him away, as Enjou grinned predatorily.

“Next set of facts and questions. You know of the infamous Archon trial, of course? When it was revealed that fontanian people are actually oceanids, given human shape by the previous hydro archon, Egeria? And the prophecy of the flood works because Primordial Sea waters dissolve fontanians into their oceanid forms. Well, the flood actually came. Why were fontanians not dissolved?”

“I’m sure you’ll tell me that.”

“Hehe, yes. It was because Neuvillette turned them into real humans with his powers of Hydro Sovereign. How generous of him, yeah? The question is, why did it take him so long? It’s been 500 years, and yet fontanians were made human only minutes before the flood.”

Despite a feeble bookworm posturing, there was a shadow of unhinged madness in his eyes, dangerous enough that in any other case Wriothesley would cut contact. But the stakes were too high right now. He needed to get all the information he could out of this lunatic.

“You might also remember that on the same trial it was proven that Furina is not a Hydro Archon. And I can tell you that the actual Archon, Focalors, was in the Oracle machine the whole time. Sorry, I’m not even trying to pronounce that full name, haha!”

The urge to punch this bastard was overwhelming, but Wriothesley kept himself in check, mostly because he could tell he was being baited into it and he didn’t want to give the piece of shit the satisfaction.

“Anyway, Neuvilette had an audience with her right after a trial, and as result she killed herself and gave him power back. You see, Hydro Archon doesn’t have the ability to turn oceanids into real humans. All of you were just… things, playing at being humans,” Enjou said with a smirk that looked more fascinated than mocking. “But Hydro Sovereign, the original god of life, does have the power to do so. And he also, conveniently, has control over the Primordial Sea, which you, Your Grace, already know as he stopped the flood in your own Fortress.”

Wriothesley raised an eyebrow and Enjou smiled with a shrug.

“Again, I was not there! But I do know Hydro Sovereign controls the Primordial Sea, and that there is an entrance to the Sea in the Meripode Fortress. I also know that there was some emergency in the Fortress, where inmates were told to run as close to the surface as possible, and then Monsieur Iudex visited and the disaster was somehow avoided.”

Wriothesley frowned. 

“If he was really a mortal enemy of humanity, why wouldn’t he just let the gates of Meripode break and the flood happen right there and then? We would all be gone and he wouldn’t need to lift a finger. Instead he ran to help when I… when the Fortress called.”

“And what would that achieve? He still wouldn’t get his power back,” Enjou shrugged dismissively and then smiled, almost wistfully. 

“No, you know what I would do if *I* was the Hydro Sovereign with an ability to take human form? And if the Archon who held my power hostage was relatively weak AND had the prophecy involving a flood of the Sea I control? Well, I’d infiltrate human society, take a position of high authority and make sure the humans not only see me as the personification of law and justice, but also respect me more than their own Archon. And when the prophecy deadline is coming up, I’d make sure I have people loyal to me in some key positions. Such as Royal Duelist… and the Warden of the Fortress.”

“He didn’t make me the Warden,” Wriothesley gritted out. 

“No, but he did make you the Duke, didn’t he?” Enjou smirked with a wink. “Our sources say the Court was not thrilled to give the highest noble title to you. And if the Iudex did not throw his own weight behind it, it would have never come to pass. How generous of him.”

It was true, Wriothesley’s own informants reported that the Court loathed to give him a title, let alone as high as the Duke. Neuvillette was the only one who fought for him and fought hard, because usually Iudex’s one word was enough to make a decision, but here the stalemate lasted for two months. They wanted to compromise and give him the viscount, but Iudex wouldn’t budge, so in the end, they caved.

Wriothesley never asked Neuvillette for the title. Neuvillette never mentioned what he did for the Warden and never dropped anything even as close as a hint of asking anything in return.

Unless you see it as a part of centuries long game, where mundane favors didn’t matter, but being called first to the access of the Primordial Sea did.

“Ah, you’re starting to get it, don’t you?” Enjou sensed blood in the water, like a proper shark would. “Then I would orchestrate a public court hearing to absolutely discredit the current ruler and corner the actual Archon. And when Focalors is forced to talk to me…. I would make a bargain. Saving the lives of all fontanians in exchange of getting my full power back and Focalors dying. Isn't it ironic that the dragon playing human was the one to turn human-shaped water things into actual humans?"

Enjou leaned back against his chair, grinning with satisfaction.

“And then I’d have an entire country loyal to me as a ruler, which would make a great foothold to use for attacking Celestia.”

Wriothesley took a deep breath.

“You really expect me to take you on your word? You might believe it yourself, which will pass the truth serum, but the word of a lunatic is not evidence.”

“Oh, of course not! I would never expect you to take my lowly word for it. Instead, why don’t you take Monsieur Iudex’s word?”

Enjou made a dramatic gesture of spilling a heap of conches onto the table. Wriothesley raised his eyebrows, when the other man poked one of them awkwardly.

“Now that I have reclaimed one of the Seven Authorities from the hands of the usurpers, I have regained my true form,” a calm voice that was undoubtedly Neuvillette, said out of nowhere. “I am now a fully fledged dragon, powerful enough to judge the rest of the gods. My final destiny is to judge the Usurper-King in the heavens above.”

“This could be faked,” Wriothesley said automatically, just to argue, but his heart already fell.

“You wound me! These are his words, and I spent an entire night fishing them out for you, I’ll have you know. It’s quite hard to capture this. You’re welcome to listen to all of them and see for yourself.”

Almost against his will, Wriothesley reached out and touched one of the conches.

“…I shall fulfill my vow to judge all of The Seven in turn, even if the sky should fall and the ground give way.”

Wriothesley took an abrupt breath through his teeth. Enjou sighed and stood up.

“I think it’s better for you to listen to this alone. After, you’re welcome to reach out to us, but please don’t make any hasty decisions. I’ll see you soon, Your Grace!”

Enjou walked down the stairs, and by the time Wriothesley got to them, there was no one there. The Duke couldn’t bring himself to focus on that though. Instead, he walked up to one of the wall cabinets and took out a bottle of whiskey he was saving up as a possible gift.

He didn’t bother with the glass. He fell down into the chair in front of the conches and clenched his fingers on the bottle, icy veins springing up from under them. He took a sip and touched another conch.

“…my grievances with the usurpers have yet to be settled... They owe a debt of blood that shall not be forgotten.”

He drank, staring blindly into the distance, and listened, and the quiet words burned worse than whiskey sliding down his throat. He caught himself on a familiar thought. “This can’t be happening. This is too monstrous.” The same feverish thoughts he had when he discovered the truth about his foster parents.

As if by now he shouldn’t have learned that nothing is too monstrous in this world.

“As a survivor of the dragon race who has regained my full dragonhood, I must fulfill my oath and obligations even if it means returning all the water in the oceans back to the heavens.”

It really did sound exactly like Neuvillette. Wriothesley tried to find the lie, something that sounded fake, but not only the voice, but the cadence and word choice fit. And it sounded calm, impartial as usual too. And then there were hydro vishaps appearing in Erinnyes…

Fuck, was it really that easy to fool him? Was he really this big of a fool? He learned to distrust sweet words and warm smiles, and he was so sure that he wouldn’t get caught in the same lies ever again, even if he sacrificed his ability to love for this. But all it took was a seeming opposite, direct and harsh, too cold and intimidating to appear manipulative, but endearingly awkward just sometimes, just enough to make him believe that… That there was something true and clear in this rotten world. That he could trust in *someone*.

“Nothing will stop me from rendering judgment on each of The Seven.” 

He went through all of the recordings, frantically at first, wanting to find contradictions, then, when none were found, numbly re-listening to the few that hit the worst.

“…also the destroyer of the present order, the one who shall judge all gods, and the foe of humanity. “

Wasn’t it too obvious in hindsight? Why would the Iudex stake his own reputation on Wriothesley’s title? How could you not see it coming? Oh, because you thought you “deserve” it for turning this dog-fighting pit of a prison into something with a modicum of fairness? Because you thought he recognized your redemption? Gods, what are you, fucking fourteen again, did you learn nothing, why would anyone ever care about you, you naive goddamn idiot?

Soon, the bottle was somehow almost done. At this point he was running one recording on repeat, mindless and purposeless except for repeating slashes of pain, familiar rhythm like the knife on his wrists years ago.

"Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, don't cry." Whoever had penned that rhyme, as well as the Fontainians who came to believe in it, must not have known the Hydro Dragon all that well, considering that they thought the Hydro Dragon could cry. What did they take said Dragon for, some sort of bleeding heart who grieved for humans and the heavens alike?”

If this was true… If this was true, then Wriothesley didn’t just get fooled himself. Then he helped a monster take control of the country and potentially use it in war against heavens. 

He clenched his hand and it took him a moment to realize he broke the bottle he was holding in it. That pain from glass pieces in his palm felt small and distant now. But at last, it spurned him into action.

If this was true, he only had one shot. He’d already told Neuvillette of the dragon conspiracy, like a good little idiot eager to please. And any tyrant worth his salt would make sure to take him out after his, especially now that he outlived his purpose in giving access to Meripode vaults. He might have some time because of how oblivious he was, dismissing the conspiracy openly, but it couldn’t be long. 

He couldn’t take his time. He couldn’t hope for the better. He had to act like it’s the worst option possible. More than anything, he needed to confront Neuvillette, dragon Sovereign or not. He had to fix this, no matter the cost.

He realized he needed leverage. Brute strength was out of the question. Even before the flood, Neuvillette absolutely destroyed Fatui Harbinger in one flash, quicker than anyone in the audience could see what happened. Wriothesley would put himself against Harbringer with no hesitation, but he wasn’t an idiot. If this was how powerful Iudex was before, then after allegedly gaining his full power, there was no way Wriothesley could threaten him. No, he needed something else.

He took out the paper and wrote a note, taking care to not stain it with blood. Fortunately, he held the bottle in his left hand, so he could keep it out of the way.

“....and so confess that I, Wriothesley, Warden of the Fortress of Meripode, killed Chief Justice, Iudex Neuvillette.”

He finished the note and carefully put in his signature, then folded the paper into an envelope and closed it with his personal seal. Then he walked up to a safe, one of the hidden ones, and punched in a code. When the safe opened, he rummaged in it for a moment, until finally taking out two vials.

This was sold to him as the poison that could kill a god.

[starryeyedjanai]

surface-level freak

kinktober prompts: teratophilia, rimming, prostitution (3 for 3 today!) explicit | 7k tags: werewolf eddie, transmasc human steve, full shift werewolf sex, vaginal and anal sex, creampie, come eating, somnophilia, little bit of spit kink and crying notes: full tags and cw are on ao3, but the gist is steve gets fucked by eddie while eddie is a fully shifted werewolf

read on AO3

This isn't exactly where Steve thought he'd end up in life, but he's absolutely not complaining.

What started as a desperate need for money after being disowned has turned into something he thinks he'd do for the rest of his life if he can.

The first time he gave a, probably subpar, blowjob in exchange for cash, he'd been scared out of his mind, dropping to his knees and trying to remember what Tommy liked the few times they had fooled around.

The first time he had a werewolf client, he didn't know that it would become his niche, his specialty, but it did. He took his first knot and took it well, and got paid handsomely for it.

That guy had friends, other werewolves who were lonely and yearning for someone to sit pretty on their knot, and a lot of them had the money to pay for it.

And so started his career.

Steve Harrington, Werewolf Fucker.

He thinks he should be able to put that on his business card, but Robin says it's a little crass.

He's on his way to meet a new client for the first time - a famous client, if his connection is telling the truth.

He's only a tiny bit wary, phone in his hand poised and ready to hit his proverbial panic button should he need it. Not that he thinks one of his clients would lie, necessarily, but when he said he had a famous werewolf that might be interested, Steve was imagining some commercial model or something, not Eddie Fucking Munson from Corroded Coffin.

He gets to the cafe and finds it eerily empty when he steps inside. It's nine in the morning on a Tuesday - people should be standing in line waiting to get their coffee. Which tells him this is the real deal.

Eddie Munson meeting him in a crowded cafe seemed like an odd choice when he texted him that they needed to meet somewhere in public first.

There's one table occupied when he scans the room and he marches over to it.

"You know, part of the reason for meeting in public is so that I'm not alone with a new client I don't know," he says, sitting down across from Eddie.

Eddie pushes his sunglasses up and back, pulling his hair out of his face.

"I couldn't really meet you here without having the place empty," he says with a grimace. "My fans are great, but I didn't exactly want to be talking with you while also trying to sign autographs."

Steve can appreciate that, he guesses. Still.

"You should have told me." He doesn't like not having the upper hand, especially with new people.

"Sorry," Eddie says sheepishly. "If it helps, my guy and your friend are standing right by the door."

Steve looks back and sees Robin and the tallest guy he's ever seen standing in front of the entrance. Robin waves when they lock eyes. Steve waves back, letting her know it's all good.

"Okay, fine. Apology accepted. Robin told you my rates. What were you thinking?" he asks, getting to business.

Eddie looks at him seriously and says, "Knotting, of course."

"Of course." People didn't come to him and pay his rates for nothing - knotting is par for the course.

"I was thinking the 17th. I leave for tour on the 19th, but I have no time between now and then to spend a whole night with you."

The whole night, Steve thinks. God, he's in for a treat. Most of his clients have him for a few hours, long enough to fuck him and knot him, sometimes long enough to spend a while cuddling after, but a whole night is going to absolutely fuck him up. He'll have to tell Robin not to schedule anything the few days after that.

When Steve doesn't say anything, Eddie continues. "And since it's the whole night, I want both of your holes." Steve tries to suppress the shiver that makes its way through his body at the sound of Eddie's voice. "I'll want to rim you, get you ready for me. And I'll probably want to eat you out after I come in you."

"That all sounds good. If you knot me twice in a row, I might fall asleep on you though," Steve says, intimately familiar with how his body responds to being rigorously fucked and knotted.

"Would you be okay with me eating my come out of you while you slept?" Eddie asks and Steve visibly shivers, unable to stop it this time.

"Yeah, that would be okay," he says, almost breathlessly.

It's not that he doesn't normally love his job, but the prospect of spending the full night with Eddie, getting fucked into oblivion over and over and then having Eddie eat his come out of him when he's not even awake to enjoy it has him shifting in his seat, his underwear sticking wet against him.

"Oh," Eddie says like he just remembered something. "I didn't see anything in the rate sheet about full shift sex. Is that off the table?"

He's caught off guard again, it seems. No one has ever asked for that.

He doesn't come by full shift werewolves often, but the ones that he has have all fucked him half-shifted like the rest of them, just claws and fangs and extra hair and their knot. Some of them have curled around him after fully shifted, taking comfort in him for a while, but none of them have asked to fuck him while shifted. He didn't even really consider that it was an option.

Steve's nothing if not good at thinking on his feet, though. He says, "It's a special request, so you'll have to work out the details with Robin, but it's definitely something that we can do."

"I'll talk to Robin then," Eddie says, licking his lips and looking him over. Steve's never felt more like a piece of meat and god if he isn't into it.

*

Once the payment details have been worked out between Eddie and Robin later via email - after Robin screeches at him and Steve reassures her that, yes, it is possible and safe - Steve sees Eddie's name pop up on his calendar and tries not to spend too much time freaking out about it.

He's not nervous, exactly. There's always the jitters he gets when he's fucking a new client for the first time because what if they see his body and don't like it, what if they thought he's a major asshole, what if it's the most awkward night of his life, what if, what if, what if?

He's feeling all that plus the apprehension of doing something he's never done before. He does a lot of research in the week leading up to it, subscribes to the OnlyFans of a lovely werewolf and human couple who do full shift knotting and make it look easy as anything.

Watching someone smaller than him take a knot bigger than his fist helps settle some of his nerves about feasibility. And he's taken knotting dildos that expand larger than some of the half-shifted weres' knots he's taken. He feels better about his ability to take it when he digs out his largest knotting dildo and spends a night devolving into an incoherent mess as he comes over and over from the stimulation of the knot pressing on his g-spot.

When the night comes, he gets himself ready to the best of his ability. He fingers his ass open in the shower thoroughly since Eddie requested that he not use lube before coming over and then slips a plug inside that's coated in the slick from his cunt.

Because he's been dripping slick in anticipation for days now. Thinking about it even remotely has him wet and open and aching about it, craving something inside him.

He gets a Lyft over to Eddie's place, or a place that Eddie's rented for the night - he's not sure.

When he steps inside the apartment building and is led to the elevator by the same comically tall man from before, he puts his game face on. Tonight is definitely going to be interesting, if nothing else.

Eddie opens the door to his apartment and ushers Steve inside. "Good to see you," he says, voice nervous, like he wasn't sure Steve was going to show.

"Good to see you too," Steve says, and it's not a lie. He's excited and nervous and horny and he's sure Eddie can smell all of that on him.

Eddie looks good. Steve takes a good look at him while he's grabbing some water bottles to bring to the bedroom.

He's not as put together as he was at the cafe. He's wearing a well worn shirt and soft looking sweatpants. He's barefoot and casual and this whole look is really doing something for Steve.

That, or the fact that he's about to get dicked down within an inch of his life. He's so fucking ready for this.

Eddie leads him to the bedroom, not really making small talk, which is much more pleasant than if he were. Robin always gives new clients the run down, but some guys don't really understand that he isn't there to be anything but a good fuck. He doesn't want to be anything else or for anyone to get any wires crossed. He knows he owes them a part of himself, but there are parts of himself that he doesn't share and doesn't care to know about in return.

And especially with someone new - Steve doesn't know him, so he doesn't really care how his week went other than if he was thinking of Steve. He isn't interested in hearing anything that's not related to him getting fucked right now, because it's the first time, because he doesn't have that kind of relationship with his clients - the ones who try to know more about him or get him to participate in knowing more about them quickly learn his boundaries.

"You can, uh, take your clothes off if you want," Eddie says as he closes the door behind them and Steve grins.

He's used to people wanting to get right down to business so he doesn't bother with elaborate outfits or lingerie unless requested. They both know what they're here for.

He strips down quickly and efficiently under Eddie's watchful eye, folding his clothes as he goes, placing them on the dresser he's standing by.

He lets Eddie look his fill, lets him drag his eyes up and down his body, as he walks towards him.

When he gets close enough, Eddie puts his hand on his hip and Steve shivers from the condensation left there by the water bottle he just set down on the nightstand.

"You're beautiful," he says, leaning in to press his mouth to Steve's neck, his lips right below his pulse point. He kisses down Steve's neck, his other hand coming up to grip the curve of his ass possessively.

Steve's cunt clenches reflexively at the gesture. Part of what does it for him, through all of this, is the feeling of being owned, feeling like he's owned and wanted, desired.

Eddie's fingers delve between his cheeks, looking to pet over his asshole, and he makes a surprised noise against Steve's throat when he feels the plug.

"I don't smell any lube on you," Eddie says, pulling back to look at him as he tugs at the plug lightly, too light to pull it out, but enough for Steve to feel the stretch of it wanting to slip out.

He shivers and says, "I didn't use any at your request. Not any that my body didn't create at least. And it's not a big plug, but I don't know how big your knot is and I wanted to prepare myself at least a little."

He's nervous he messed up or did something Eddie didn't like, but he was told to specify what he wanted beforehand and he didn't say Steve couldn't, so...

Luckily, Eddie just grins at him and tugs him closer so he's nearly pressed flush against him. He slips his fingers further between Steve's legs and says, "I think I want this hole first," petting over his cunt. "And I said I'd rim you before I fucked your ass to get you ready. I was thinking about doing that full shift if you're okay with it."

Steve can't help the way his entire body buzzes at the thought. "That's- yeah. Yes," he says intelligently.

Eddie's mouth twitches up like he's amused, but the hand on Steve's hip comes up to cup his neck and pull him into a kiss, so he can't be too mad about it.

Eddie kisses him deeply right from the jump - tongue pressing inside his mouth immediately, heads tilting so they can both lick deeper. Steve rests a hand on Eddie's shoulder, his other hand pressing against the front of Eddie sweatpants which have tented up.

Eddie pulls the hand from between his legs back a little to play with the plug again. He holds the base and presses the little button there, starting up the low hum of vibrations that makes Steve moan softly into his mouth.

At the sound of Steve's moan, Eddie pulls away from the kiss with a slick noise. He says, "Get on the bed. On your back," and steps back, his hands falling away from Steve's body.

Steve gets on the bed. He lays back and spreads his legs, his right hand settling between his thighs, stroking his thumb over his dick slowly.

He watches as Eddie gets undressed, just strips his shirt off and pushes his sweatpants down and off to show off his body.

He's not shifted at all yet so he doesn't have much body hair other than a light dusting of hair on his arms and legs and a thick thatch of hair above his frankly gorgeous dick.

His dick is thick - not the longest he's ever seen, but he's got girth and Steve's cunt clenches at the thought of how much bigger it's going to get when he shifts. Even half-shifted, he'll be bigger, stretching out whatever hole he wants to fill. When he's fully shifted-

He doesn't even know how he's going to manage not immediately coming all over his dick as soon as it gets inside him.

He didn't get into this particular line of work because he was anything other than a size queen. He knows this about himself and he luckily has the clientele to make sure that he never has to go without being filled again.

Eddie climbs onto the bed with him after grabbing a bottle of lube.

It's not a brand he's familiar with and when Eddie sees him looking, he says, "It's a brand made 'by weres for weres', kind of thing. Regular lube, even unscented, has a weirdly strong scent."

Steve hums. "I'll have to look into that," he says, trying to make a mental note to get the name of the brand before he leaves tomorrow.

He gets between Steve's thighs and tosses the lube up near the pillows next to the one Steve is resting his head on.

He leans down and presses his mouth to Steve's throat again, breathing in his scent briefly. There's a rumbling noise low in his chest as he does, not quite a growl, but Steve knows he likes what he smells. He probably wouldn't be here right now if Eddie didn't like how he smelled.

"Wanna put my mouth on you," Eddie says, lips dragging along his collarbone.

Steve nods eagerly. "You can. I want you to."

Eddie kisses down his chest and Steve feels the moment Eddie starts to shift, his teeth becoming sharper as he nips at his hip bones, his nails becoming claws as his hands push his thighs open wider.

He looks down and groans at the sight. Where Eddie's body was sparsely covered with hair before is now covered in it. His chest, his thighs, his arms, probably his back too - all covered in thick hair.

With his legs spread wide, thighs pressed into the sheets, he knows Eddie can see how wet he is, can smell it too - not just his slick, but his arousal. He feels like he's choking on it and he doesn't have the same senses as a wolf, so he can't imagine how thick the smell of his arousal must be right now.

The plug is still vibrating inside him, but it's not big enough and the vibration isn't strong enough to really be doing much for him.

Without much fanfare, Eddie dips his head and laps at the wetness between Steve's thighs, pulling another groan from deep within him. Steve reaches up to grab the pillow underneath his head so that he has something to hold onto as Eddie licks from his cunt to his dick and back again, one hand reaching down to play with his plug.

He presses the button on the plug again to turn up the vibration. At the same time, he presses his tongue inside him, and it's not the same for all werewolves, but Eddie's tongue when he's half-shifted is longer than a normal human tongue.

He presses it inside and Steve's thighs shake, another wave of slick dripping out of him when Eddie pulls back.

Eddie gets his mouth on Steve's cock and he knows he doesn't stand a chance. His fists grab harder onto the pillow and he bucks his hips up into Eddie's mouth.

Eddie wraps his hands around Steve's waist and hauls him up, letting him hook a thigh over his shoulder for leverage as he fucks up against his mouth.

He sticks his long tongue out and lets Steve grind up against it, the sight of it driving him fucking insane.

He hitches his hips up, grinding against his tongue and his eyes nearly roll back when he feels the tip of Eddie's tongue teasing at his slick hole at the same time.

One hand comes down to fist into Eddie's hair, holding him there as he comes, feeling like he's going to shake out of his body. He grinds his dick on Eddie's tongue as he pulses through his orgasm, crying out as he does.

When he sinks back into the bed, breath shaky and feeling like he's going to melt into a puddle, Eddie nuzzles his face into the crease of his thigh. Steve runs his hand down over Eddie's hair, smoothing it down where he tugged it up earlier.

Eddie presses the button on the plug again, holds down for a few seconds, until it turns off, and then he dips his tongue back inside Steve's dripping hole.

Steve sighs and lets Eddie attempt to lick him clean.

When he's had his fill of sucking the slick from Steve's cunt, Eddie puts his mouth on Steve's thigh, his canines digging in as he sucks hard on the skin, marking the skin there.

He makes his way back up Steve's body when he's done making his mark on his thigh.

"Can I fuck you?" Eddie asks like the idiot he is.

"If you don't get inside me right now, I'm gonna strap you to this bed, sit on your cock until sunrise, and not let you come once," Steve says like the cock-hungry whore he is.

Eddie grins at him, baring his teeth, his canines glinting in the warm light of the bedroom. He lines his cock up and presses inside, the slide made so fucking easy from the amount of slick Steve's dripping. He's sopping wet and they both hear the loud, slick sound of Eddie's cock fucking into his core.

Eddie scoops up Steve's legs, his knees falling into the crook of Eddie's elbows as he leans down to kiss him. He fucks in deep until he's buried inside him, his hips cradled between Steve's thighs.

He starts up a slow rhythm, as slow as the kisses he presses to Steve's mouth, and it's not enough. The hair of the scruff on his face that wasn't there before is a delicious burn against the skin around his mouth, but Steve wants more. He wants to feel that burn everywhere, wants Eddie to leave him covered in beard burn, his skin raw and red from it.

The thought of that spurs him to try and get some leverage to fuck himself on Eddie's cock. Steve doesn't have that much leverage with his hips splayed out like this, but he wraps his arm around Eddie's shoulders and tries to roll his hips up anyway.

He kisses Eddie, trying to deepen the chaste kisses he presses on his mouth, but Eddie apparently wants to take his time right now.

He lets his fingertips dig into Eddie's shoulder and clenches around him, but lets him take his time getting into it.

After a minute, Eddie pries his mouth open with his tongue and presses it inside Steve's mouth. Steve groans as Eddie fucks his tongue into his mouth, nearly hitting the back of his throat and Steve is done waiting. They can take it slow in the morning if that's something Eddie wants, but Steve wants to be fucked into the mattress now.

Steve doesn't know if Eddie's taking it slow because he's afraid of losing control or if he's afraid of hurting him or something else, but either way, he begrudgingly pulls away from Eddie's mouth to say, "Remember what I said about tying you to the bed? Fuck. Me. Or I'll find someone else to do it."

Eddie sits up a little and looks down at him, like he's deciding if he's serious - he's not, of course. Eddie paid for this time and he'll gladly suffer through the slowest, most vanilla, missionary fucking of his life if that's what Eddie wants. But Steve doesn't think it is, is the thing. He thinks Eddie wants to get rough with him, wants to drag his body closer like he's a fucking ragdoll and use him, and that's why Steve's pushing so much.

"You're kind of bossy for someone who's paid to lay there and take it," Eddie says - calling him out on it - his mouth pulled up into a grin, softening the words. He rolls his hips gently, his cock dragging against Steve's hole deliciously.

"I think you're afraid to hurt me, maybe. And I'm going to remind you that I do do this for a living, so I can take it. I like it, even. And I want you to stop being so gentle if that's not what you want. I want you to press me into this mattress and fucking knot me already," he says, watching Eddie's darken at his words.

Eddie's grin slides into a smirk and his tongue slides along his left canine. He says, "I was trying to ease you into it, but if you're sure."

He raises an eyebrow at him and Steve fights the urge to say something bitchy about how he's already told him what he wants.

"I'm sure," he says instead.

Eddie lowers his body on top of him, pressing his cock all the way inside again. He leans in and takes a deep breath of Steve's scent right at the nape of his neck where it's the most potent. His entire body seems to twitch as he presses his nose into his neck and scents him.

And then it's like a switch has been flipped. Because Eddie's hands come to rest on Steve's hips and press him into the sheets. Because Eddie spreads his knees and starts fucking into Steve like the animal he is - rutting into him in quick, harsh strokes, humping him really.

And this is what Steve was waiting for. He drops his head back and can't stop the whine that escapes his lips as Eddie's dick hits deep inside him.

The only reason he's not more embarrassed about the noises that can't seem to stop is because Eddie's whining too, making these whimpering little punched out sounds as he fucks into Steve's cunt roughly.

With Eddie whining into his ear and fucking into him deep, there's no way to stave off the orgasm that sneaks up on him. He's tensing up and shaking through it before he even realizes it's coming, digging his fingernails into Eddie's back and clenching around Eddie's cock.

Eddie groans at the feeling of Steve's cunt squeezing him tightly and he presses up onto his forearms, looking down at Steve.

"I'm gonna-" he says, a moan cutting him off.

"Do it," Steve says. "Knot me."

Eddie shudders, pressing his cock in deep again, and Steve can feel the way it expands, can feel the knot forming. He manages a few more shaky thrusts before the knot catches on Steve's hole and they both groan.

He pulls it out and bullies it back in and Steve's eyes roll back at the feeling of his hole being stretched out to let him back inside.

Eddie rocks his hips now that his knot is too big to pull back out. His knot is pressing right on Steve's g-spot with every movement of Eddie's hips and he knows he's going to come on his knot before it goes down.

He swears he can feel it the moment Eddie starts to come inside him, can feel the added warmth and wetness inside him and it makes his entire body burn.

He watches as Eddie shakes through it, biting his lip, but not being able to stop the groans tumbling from his mouth.

Eddie keeps rocking his hips, his knot hitting Steve just right and pulling on his hole and Steve's tensing up again, too soon, too soon, too soon. He gasps as he starts to come again.

His body goes taut as he squirts from the stimulation of Eddie's knot pressing on his g-spot relentlessly. He quakes as he barrels through another orgasm, barely able to catch his fucking breath.

Eddie groans as his muscles squeeze his knot, trying to milk the come from him.

The pleasure is blinding and all consuming and he thinks he whites out a little, floating and weightless for a minute before he comes back down.

He lays there catching his breath, sweaty, cunt aching from being knotted up, covered in his own squirt juice, and there's no better feeling than this.

Eddie's knot is still pressed tight against his g-spot, a constant point of white-hot pleasure that he can't shake and doesn't want to.

As they come down, Eddie sits up, the motion pulling Steve's hips into his lap. Steve groans at the way the knot pulls him along with Eddie's hand on his hips.

Eddie's kneeling back on his haunches, but he straightens up so that Steve's not laying in the wet spot he made. If he wasn't supporting Steve's body with his hands on his hips, he would be dangling from his knot and that thought makes Steve's eyes roll back, his cunt clenching almost painfully around the knot inside him as he moans and comes again.

"This is what you wanted, right? To be hanging off my knot?" Eddie asks, almost snarling down at him when Steve clenches around him again.

Steve nods his head and brings his hands up, one gripping Eddie's hand on his hip, the other coming up to stroke his belly where it's bulging slightly. It's going to be so much more pronounced when Eddie fucks his ass, when Eddie's fully shifted, and Steve can't help the way he shudders thinking about it.

Eddie licks his lips looking at the way Steve pets his stomach bulge. "Wish I could feel that from the inside too. Feel you petting the head of my cock through your stomach."

The words make Steve groan again and he slips his hand down to rub at his aching dick.

Eddie puts his hand on Steve's and pulls it away, sitting back on his haunches again and hauling Steve up so they're face to face again.

He presses his mouth to Steve's again, licking inside. Their tongues press together gently, a slow, sinking kiss that leaves him breathless.

Their tongues slide together for a good few minutes as they wait for Eddie's knot to go down.

Steve can feel when it's small enough to slip out of him because it feels like a rush of wetness drips out of him.

Eddie pulls away from the kiss and says, "I'm probably going to knot for a lot longer when I'm shifted."

"That's okay. I might fall asleep if you do," Steve says, knowing he's bound to come at least a few more times and he's already feeling the exhaustion start to creep in, his body feeling the strain of their fucking. In the quiet aftermath, with Eddie fully shifted and seeping warmth, he's probably going to fall right asleep.

"I'll clean you up if you do," Eddie says and Steve groans. He nuzzles into Steve's neck briefly, nipping at the skin there, before he moves them.

Eddie pulls him neatly off his cock and deposits him onto the bed, rolling him onto his stomach. The sheets are wet beneath him, but it doesn't make sense to move because he's just going to get them wet again when he squirts on Eddie's knot again.

He feels the ripple in the air from the subtle change in air pressure that means Eddie's fully shifted now.

Eddie drapes himself over Steve's body and Steve moans at the feeling of Eddie's hairy, hairy body covering him completely. He's bigger like this, taller and wider, and it's turning Steve's brain to goo thinking about how big his knot is going to feel inside his ass.

Eddie's voice is a low grumble when he speaks and Steve shivers about that too.

"Gonna get you ready now," he growls out and all Steve can do is spread his legs further when Eddie pulls his weight off him. "Take your plug out."

He'd almost forgotten it was there, holding his ass open, nowhere near as big as what's about to come. He grips the base of the plug and slides it out before tossing it on the nightstand.

He's damn near shivering in anticipation when Eddie presses Steve's hips down and spreads him out.

Eddie ducks his head and licks at the mess between his thighs, lapping at his cunt. The feeling is so much. His tongue feels rougher than before.

Steve's cunt is so wet, from Eddie's come and from the fresh slick that drips from him as Eddie's tongue delves into him. Steve can't stop the wails that come out of his mouth.

He's crying out, almost sobbing with it as Eddie continues to lick at his sensitive hole and then as he licks inside with his long tongue, longer than his human tongue, longer than his half shifted tongue.

He licks into his cunt until he's shaking and then he spreads Steve's cheeks. Steve looks back over his shoulder and lets out a weak moan as he watches as Eddie lets a mixture of his spit, his come, and Steve's slick dribble down onto his asshole.

The tip of his tongue presses inside his ass and Steve relaxes into it. Eddie presses more of his tongue inside, more of his come and spit lubing the way.

He fucks his ass like this for a couple minutes and it feels like Eddie is lazily doing this, taking his time and trying to build it up, but Steve is on a hair trigger, has been all night.

He gets a hand under him and rubs at his cock and that's it, he's coming again, cunt dripping onto the sheets beneath him.

Eddie keeps licking into his asshole as Steve shudders through his orgasm.

He must have grabbed the bottle of lube at some point because when he pulls away, Steve feels something slick, wet, and cold being dripped onto his hole.

He looks back and almost laughs at how small the lube bottle looks in Eddie's hand. He watches as Eddie squeezes the bottle and drips lube onto his cock and he groans.

Eddie's cock like this is fucking outrageous. It's long and thick and Steve knows it's going to stretch him out like nothing he's ever experienced before, putting any time he's said the phrase 'rearranging his guts' to shame.

Eddie pulls him up on his hands and knees and notches his cock against Steve's asshole and presses the head inside slowly.

Steve breathes through it - the head popping inside makes his cunt clench in sympathy. He wonders what it would feel like inside his cunt, pressing on places that probably haven't been touched before. He shivers thinking about it.

Eddie presses in a little bit more, drizzling more lube onto his hole. He pulls out and presses back inside and Steve feels like he can't get in enough air - it's so fucking big.

When he's fully seated inside him, Steve feels overheated.

And then Eddie starts to move.

If he was overwhelmed before, he doesn't know what he is right now. There's so much to focus on - the giant cock stretching him out, the feeling of Eddie draping himself over his back, the feeling of Eddie's arm hair under his hand when he reaches back to steady himself.

Eddie takes it so slow for a few minutes, rocking in and out gently as Steve's body gets used to the intrusion.

Steve lowers his chest to the bed so he isn't supporting his weight and lets Eddie drag him back onto his cock.

He groans at the feeling, getting a hand beneath him and on his dick again. He presses two fingers inside his cunt where he's soaking wet and lets the palm of his hand rock against his dick as Eddie picks up the pace.

It doesn't take longer than another minute to come, crying out embarrassingly loud as he grinds against his hand.

That seems to spur Eddie on and he fucks into Steve harder as Steve goes lax after he's done coming.

He doesn't know when he started crying, but the pillow beneath his head is wet with his tears and Eddie's bent over and licking at his neck and the side of his face like he's trying to soothe him.

He wants to feel Eddie's knot in him as badly he doesn't know what to do with himself.

He pushes back against him, the slapping sound of Eddie's hips hitting his growing louder.

Eddie fucks into him with deep strokes and Steve knows without looking or touching that his stomach is bulging out on every fucking thrust.

He's so deep inside him. It feels like every nerve in his body is on fire with the way he's lit up from the inside out.

His fingers are still tucked inside him and he curls them up, hiccuping wetly when he presses on his g-spot. He fucks his fingers in and out, trying to match the speed of Eddie's thrusts and as soon as he feels his knot starting to form, he's squirting all over the bed again.

The knot stretches at his rim and it's like he can't stop coming, clenching over and over and over as Eddie bullies his knot inside him.

His knot already felt like it was going to split him open earlier when he was only half-shifted and now it's pressing in and in again and shattering his whole world. Steve feels his eyes cross at the unrelenting pressure.

Eddie presses it in and it catches on Steve's rim, unable to come out again so easily, so Eddie just grinds his hips against Steve's as he chases his orgasm.

Steve comes again, gasping and crying as he feels the warmth of Eddie coming inside him. He's clenching both holes, milking Eddie's knot again and he can't stop shivering and sobbing.

They stay like that until Steve stops shivering, until it feels less like he's going to float out of his body.

Eddie moves them, his knot tugging at Steve's hole, making him hiss.

He drags them off of the wet spot and under the covers that were folded on the other side of the bed.

Steve kind of blinks back into reality with Eddie spooned up behind him, nuzzling his face into his throat.

"Drink some water, baby," Eddie says to him, his voice still a deep growl, so Steve hadn't missed him shifting back yet. He's still knotted inside him, so it makes sense, but Steve's brain isn't operating at 100% right now.

They've wound up closer to the bedside table than when they started so it's not a far stretch to reach over and grab a water bottle. He sucks down half the bottle, his dehydrated body needing it.

He passes the uncapped bottle back to Eddie and bites back a quip about him needing a water bowl. He's too tired to make it funny anyway - it would probably come out sounding a little mean and he doesn't want to be mean right now.

He just wants to be wrapped up and taken care of.

Eddie deposits the water bottle somewhere and drags Steve into his arms.

The entire room smells like sex, like both of them, and he can't even imagine what that must be like for Eddie with his heightened senses. Maybe that's why Eddie keeps burying his face in Steve's neck, overwhelmed by their mingling scents and the scent of their come in the air.

He's so sleepy - the warmth seeping from Eddie's body, the exhaustion of being fucked good, and the feeling of Eddie stroking his hand over Steve belly makes his eyes drift closed. He can feel himself falling asleep soon as he settles back into Eddie's embrace.

He drifts to sleep still knotted up tight.

*

He wakes up soon after falling asleep to Eddie's tongue inside his ass, his human-sized tongue licking deftly over him, eating the come from his hole. He gasps at the feeling, at the loud, wet noises coming from behind him.

He's on his stomach again, so reaches his hand back and fists it in Eddie's hair.

"Hi, gorgeous," Eddie says before going back to licking and sucking at his hole.

With Steve awake, Eddie fucks two fingers inside his cunt slowly, immediately curling them down to hit his g-spot.

Steve groans loudly. Eddie sloppily eating his ass and slowly, but expertly fingering his cunt is such a good way to wake up.

Eddie licks into him over and over, his fingers stroking over his g-spot, and when his other hand comes down to stroke at his cock, he doesn't stand a chance.

It's a slow building orgasm, but he quakes and whines through it all the same. Eddie keeps licking and fingering and stroking him through it, and after another couple of minutes, he's rolling through another one, this one edging on painful - the pleasure tipping over into pain as he jerks through it.

He pulls at Eddie's hair and says, "Enough," before dropping his hand onto the bed beside him.

Eddie pulls his fingers out and Steve can hear the way he sucks them into his mouth and if he wasn't literally aching, he'd want to go another round.

He manages to stay awake as Eddie hauls him up and into the bathroom to clean up. In the shower, Eddie presses him into the shower wall and kisses him as he soaps up his body.

They fall back into the bed with clean bodies and wet hair and Steve is asleep the minute his head hits the pillow.

*

He wakes up in the morning with Eddie's head between his thighs again, licking into his sore cunt. He's fucking insatiable.

Steve sighs and stretches his arms out, spreading his thighs a little.

He looks down at Eddie and finds him looking back up at him, tongue licking into him with little kitten licks.

"You're going to kill me," is what he says, voice rough with sleep.

Eddie pulls his wet mouth away and grins at him. He says, "Or ruin you."

Steve shivers. He already has. How the hell is he supposed to go back to knots that aren't from a fully shifted werewolf?

"Can I fuck you?" Eddie asks, crawling up his body.

Steve pulls him into a kiss, tasting his slick on Eddie's tongue. He reaches down and guides Eddie's cock into his sore cunt, sighing into Eddie's mouth.

Eddie fucks him gently, slowly grinding into him, trading kisses the entire time.

After a minute, Eddie puts his hands under Steve's back and rolls them over so that Steve is straddling Eddie's lap.

Their lips never leave each other's as Steve rocks down against him, getting a good angle so Eddie cock is dragging over his g-spot.

The kisses turn desperate as they both get closer, Steve reaching a hand down to rub at his dick.

He comes on Eddie's cock, gasping into his mouth as he clenches around him.

It only takes another handful of thrusts before Eddie's coming too - he grabs Steve by the hips and fucks up into him, faster than before, but still gentle.

Eddie groans into his mouth as he comes inside him and they both collapse back onto the bed.

Steve lifts himself off Eddie dick and shivers at the feeling of his come leaking out of him.

"I don't suppose you'd want to clean me up before I go?" Steve asks, leaning back and spreading his legs.

He tracks the way Eddie licks his lips looking at the come dripping out of him and grins. He's got his number, it seems.

When Eddie presses him back into the sheets and licks the come dripping from his cunt and Steve starts thinking of how he's going to secure seeing him again, he supposes Eddie has his number too.

[hyperionheights]

bones sexuality headcanons

yeah i dont have proof (except angela) i just Know. call it my lesbian spidey senses. disclaimer that those are MY headcanons, you can have your own opinions on those ofc

main characters:

brennan: bi (preference for ugly men... but i digress). she probably started exploring her sexual orientiation in college and came to the conclusion that she's attracted to every gender to varying degrees. she's probably tongue kissed angela a few times pre season 1

booth: cishet ally! ⭐️ he's a bit confused but he's got the spirit, i'll give him that.. bi wife energy start playing whenever he walks into the room

zack: gayboi with a bad case of hero worship for dr brennan. naomi from paleonthology made him realise this isnt really what he'd like to excavate, if you get the gist... ;) (ew)

angela: imo? bi, but it's up to anyone. canon queer and i'm very happy about it

hodgins: bi. putting my foot down on this one- to me, hodgela is bi4bi. one day early into the series angela goes "why is everyone so hot... being bi is so hard" and hodgins is like "yeah, tell me about it" and they have a Oh, You Too? moment

cam: distinguished (ex-disaster) pan. she's all cool and collected now but in middle school she was probably stuttering whenever she saw a pretty girl

sweets: pan. boykisser. i just KNOW. that man is not heterosexual. probably had a few boyfriends in high school too

aubrey: bi? preference for women but in an alternate universe he and sweets are a thing

goodman: token straightie along with booth except i actually like him even tho even tho he took a 2 month sabbatical and never came back

squinterns:

clark: bi. a bit repressed and only realised it after breaking up with nora but as long as he gets there it's fine

daisy: pan. absolute girlkisser. she has the wlw equivalent of whatever zack felt for dr brennan. swaisy is a disaster pan couple.

fisher: pan- and i wont have it any other way. he was 100% checking sweets out when he came over to b&b's in s8, so i like to think when hodgins asks sweets "what is it with you and interns?" in 9x23 he's including fisher

wendell: bi and in a lab au he's dating vincent thank you

vincent: english twink and i think he and wendell should kiss in the lab lost & found

arastoo: straightie but we still love him. pan wife energy since he and cam are married

finn: god, i have No Idea but i have a feeling he doesn't either

wells: aro, and maybe ace too, but fyi even if he wasn't no one would want him

jessica: ... i used to say lesbian but i kinda let the jaubrey of it all get to me... pan vibes perhaps? i'll have to think it over. in another universe she and daisy are a thing too btw

other characters:

caroline julian:... lesbian. no i will not give an explanation for this one. sham marriage and all.

karen delfs: big pansexual energy coming from this random profiler?? i like her

villains: (do not take those seriously, but also...)

pelant: unlabeled. getting strangled by hodgins awoke something in him but he didnt have the time to figure it out between 8x01 and 9x04

taffet: very VERY mean lesbian

epps: heterosexual incel

broadsky: internalised homophobia over booth, clearly

kovac: the man pretended to be married to his sister. i'm not sure i even wanna know

[aelincreativ]

Oshamir as Mace Windu's Grandparents - Crack Au

This idea is complete and total crack and should not be taken with any seriousness, unless you want to go wild I guess. I thought of this late last night while half asleep.

Mace Windu, renowned, respected, and strong Jedi Master of the Order. Known for his iconic purple lightsaber and having Force Visions of Shatterpoints, or moments of choice in time.

Now timeline can get a bit fuzzy, but Star Wars timeline is always fuzzy. (Plagueis is supposed to be like 15 at the time of the Acolyte so, lotsa questions bout that do I have) But it works out pretty well for Windu to be Osha and Qimir's grandson.Acolyte is set in 132 BBY and Osha is 24. Mace is born in 72 BBY, 60 years after the Acolyte. Say Osha and Qimir have multiple kids, Mace's parent could realistically be born any time between 130 BBY and 100 BBY depending on how well Osha and Qimir age due to their Force connection since we know that affects aging.

I personally like the idea of Mace being the baby of the family, youngest kid of the youngest kid type vibes. Before him, all his Aunts, Uncles, and cousins either didn't pursue a Force connection or trained with Osha and Qimir in the Force. Maybe not as Sith-inclined, but not light siders and obviously not as Jedi.

(I've got a whole bunch of headcanons about Dark/Light and the proper use and connection to the Force, ask me about them later but the gist is that the truly best way to connect to the force is to be balanced. Feeling, acknowledging, and using every emotion with no distinction of good or bad. Understanding that the universe itself is full of both good and bad and that to try and focus on either side makes you weaker.)

(Osha and Qimir are still very much “what a Jedi like you would call a Sith” but they've chilled. To the point as long as you don't touch their family you're fine. They are that old couple that will casually drop the fact they were Bonnie and Clyde if you get them reminiscing but otherwise the grandkids have no idea. Oshamir's kids though, the oldest ones experienced some wild shit but it was normalized for them and they don't realize that was weird.)

Back to Mace. This idea has Mace being taught by his grandparents as early as he can remember until the age of four when he gets a vision telling him that his greatest path toward achieving balance in the universe takes him to the Jedi. He creates a force bond with his family, but does not view it as an attachment because he understands that his highest calling and duty is to the Force itself and the path it takes him on with the Jedi. He feels no darkside temptation from his missing family because his family is there with him giving him the push and motivation towards his dreams, actively encouraging him to be the best Jedi he can be.

Now. Mace is only four when he goes to the Temple. He was not fully aware of everything going on with his grandparents. (Osha and Qimir not being obvious about their Sith-inclined tendencies. Hiding the red sabers and battle armor from the grandkids and the kids knowing to not bring it up. They still strongly despise the Jedi but what their grandson wants they will support as long as he remembers that his family always loves him and supports him and believes in him.) Mace doesn't keep it a secret that he was trained by his grandparents before coming to the temple. Openly talking about it with his fellow younglings and comparing what he was taught with what they learn at the temple.

Because of this he assumes it's just a known and recorded fact in his profile about his family. It is not. When he becomes a Padawan to Master Myr, he tells her about his family and while initially surprised, she realizes there's no negatives with Mace's connection to his family. Further solidifying in Mace's mind the difference between connection and attachment.

They struggle some through Mace's padawanship and take a visit to his family where Master Myr meets them and also misses the Sith indicators. Just seeing them as another type of Force user. This is because Jedi look for darksiders with very narrow minded cues. They think that all “darksiders” would be rampaging murderers. Not a slightly older couple surrounded by their loving family and carrying their first great grandchild around while picking sticky things out of their hair.

Sure Master Myr is a bit worried about it all, because she is a good Jedi, but she is also a person who sees the happy family and has to suppress her own twinge of jealousy at the large family joyously reuniting and celebrating the success of Mace in his journey with the Force. When Qimir steps aside next to her, and softly but with aged wisdom and surety, speaks about how their family treats the Force and finds greater connection and purpose through it. How it ranges from encouraging the crops they grow to the mechanical work intuition to their one granddaughter, Mace's older sister actually, who is off pursuing a career as an investigative journalist because her calling was similar to Mace's but she wanted to find and expose the corruption so that her little brother would know where to look and work on next.

Master Myr and Mace leave with their bond brighter and stronger than before and a promise to visit again. And if Mace assumes that Myr reported everything about their visit to the other Jedi and as such that the attitude of the Jedi about connection versus attachment is different than what it actually is, that's an issue that doesn't come up till over 20 years later when Anakin Skywalker stands before the council as a scare little boy. Mace's almost off-handed response to the reveal Anakin has no father shocks and then changes the course of the future.

Apparently responding, “So? My grandmother and her sister were Force conceived too. Force conception is rare, yes, but not impossible, just difficult. I would like to meet with his mother though, and ask what her technique was. The process my great grandmothers used was lost with the destruction of their coven when my grandmother was a child.” This response was not the response the other council members, besides Depa Billaba who had been to visit his family during her own padawan years and celebrated as part of the family, were at all expecting or supported.

Mace's further explanation of his family, something he is bewildered to learn the Jedi didn't already know about as he never felt he had kept it a secret. Depa herself chimes in about her meeting with the family and agrees with her confusion about this not being common knowledge. Yoda chimes in about his confusion and when prompted, Mace reveals his grandparents to have trained with the Jedi in their youth before both leaving as teens. He gives Osha's name and when her profile is pulled up there is a startling amount of information redacted from it, the redaction signed off by Vernestra Rwoh, who had vanished on a mission decades prior. Mace found this strange as the information he had been told about his grandparents past all seemed contradictory to what was left in the file.

At this point they shuffle out Anakin and give Obi-Wan instructions to not fuck up the kid they clearly need to do something about but just not right now. Go get him a snack or something and come back tomorrow.It's only after that Mace realizes that a looming shatterpoint had disappeared without a fuss. Strange but he'd had worse and weirder encounters with his unique visions.

How this continues is anyone's game, but a key component is Osha and Qimir coming to the temple to drop off Mace's niece who wanted to be a Jedi just like Uncle Mace. During this meeting at the temple, Yoda needs to walk into the room and immediately get into a mental conflict with Osha and Qimir. They rip the green troll apart and put him back together shaken and aware of just how disastrous everything could have gone.

The reveal that Darth Plagueis was killed decades back when the Sith tried to take one of the Aniseya family members to study and experiment on. Unfortunately this left a loose end of Palpatine who had only recently started his Sith apprenticeship when Plagueis was killed. So ripple that out however you want.

What secrets get spilled and what ones don't is all up in the air but yeah. This has been my incoherent ramblings about absolute crack Star Wars AUs.

[wafflesex]

Spoilers for Floyd's Stitch Event SSR

I wrote this all down in a hurry so certain nuances aren't 100% accurate, but this is the gist of Floyd's Stitch vignettes! It starts with Floyd surfing. Azul and Jack tell him it's time to head back to the cottage but Floyd complains about wanting to do an activity that can only be done at nighttime. This is when he gets the idea to make fireworks! He goes to Stitch's spaceship and asks him to turn any excess scrap metal into a fine powder. Floyd: A'ight, time for Dr. Floyd to experiment! This will be yellow and this will be red... Aha~ I did it! I'm a genius~ Stitch: ? Floyd: Are you interested in what I'm making? This is called a "flying jellyfish." Oh wait... what's it called on land again? Ah! That's right. Fireworks, fireworks! D'you know about 'em? (seems to be a reference to Part of Your World: "... What's that word again? ... Streeet~") Stitch helps Floyd make a ton of fireworks. As they build, he tells Stitch about Jade.

Floyd: You know, a long time ago, Jade and I went to the beach to watch the fireworks. Jade's my brother. Stitch: Ohana! Floyd: Hm? Jade's not a flower. He's the same moray mer as me. ("hana" means "flower" in Japanese, so whenever Stitch says "ohana," everyone thinks he's saying "flower") Floyd: Didn't I tell you? I'm a merman. I used to live in the sea before I went on land. Back in elementary school, I secretly went up to the beach to see the fireworks. Dad and mama always used to say "It's dangerous for kids to go alone, so don't go anywhere near the coast." Stitch: GRRR! Floyd: Nah, it's been a long time since merfolk and humans have been afraid of each other. After the sea princess and the land prince got married, merfolk come and go as they like. But little merfolk shouldn't wander close to shore alone because they could be swept away or beached. Floyd: Adults can survive that alone, but not a kid. Anyway, there's lots of shops for merfolk along the coast now. They're like the cottage we built where they stick out into the sea. They sell things like hoodies and accessories. ... My parents have several shops like that. Floyd: Those are for the grownups to go near though, not children. ... But Jade and I used to go to the beach a lot anyway and not tell our parents. I mean, when someone tells you not to do it, you want to do it anyway, don't you~? Stitch: WEHEHEH Floyd: There's tons of rare stuff by the coast. Flying jellyfish are our favorite though. Watching 'em from the sea is the best! They light up like stars on the black water, the reflections are so sparkly... It's like swimming through the nighttime sky! Floyd: Stitch, you came from space, right? You should try swimming in the starry sky then! Even going from sea to land was exciting for me. I'd always be like "What's this?" or "Is that guy really like that?" It would be cooler if I could go to space. I'd get to see even more! Floyd: Are there other aliens in space like Stitch and Gantu? Ahhh, if I say I met an alien on a deserted island, there's no way Jade would believe me. "It seems as if Floyd had a very unique dream," he'd say.

Floyd: So since I'm going back to school soon, make sure you come and play, Stitch, ok? And bring a really weird alien with you! Liiike... an evil genius scientist who created you or a guy with one eye or spies who like to disguise themselves! Something like that. (very obviously a nod to Jumba, Pleakly, and Cobra Bubbles in Lilo and Stitch)

Azul shows up and asks how the firework arrangement is going. He's surprised to see A LOT of fireworks. Floyd: This is the sparkler type Azul taught me how to make and this one is a disc that rotates. But THIS square one is a design of my own!

Azul: Floyd's original fireworks arrangement...? I hope it doesn't spontaneously explode. Floyd: Don't worry, don't worry~ It's made properly with magic.

Azul: Honestly... when he has a "I want to do this" attitude, Floyd's focus is incredible. I hope it can always be like this, especially at work. Floyd: Enthusiasm got me hungry. Can you guys help me carry the fireworks? We'll hide them on the beach and surprise the others~

Back at the cottage, everyone sees all the lights are off. Floyd and Stitch have also given them buckets (I'm assuming to extinguish the sparklers afterward.) They're then led to the beach. Jack: You're not planning on surfing at night, are you?

Floyd: Buuu buuu~ (buzzer sound) The correct answer iiis... this! A large orange firework shoots up into the sky and explodes. Lilia: What a marvelous fireworks display! Floyd, how did you prepare all this? Floyd: Stitch turned the junk parts into a powder~ Everyone: YOU MADE THEM? Floyd: Stitch, bring me the rest of them, ok? Jack: Uwa-! You mean the big pack Stitch was carrying was full of fireworks?! Floyd: Yup~ I wanted to do this at night so I made 'em in my downtime earlier. Grim: Whoa! With this many, we could play all night long! Lilia: These long and narrow ones are handheld fireworks... But what's this square one? Floyd: That's my original one~ You do this and then you put this away-- Goldfishie, gimme some fire! Riddle: Don't go using people like matches. Honestly... There~! Floyd's firework explodes and it's a gentle rain of blue and white sparks and stars.

Everyone: Woooow~!! Floyd: Right? Aren't the reflections of it on the nighttime water pretty? Ace: Floyd-senpai is really freaking incredible~! You're a genius! Can I light one up too? Floyd: Go for it~ Do as many of them as you want. Lilia: Ohh! This sparkler lets off a green color like Diasomnia! Jack: And this one is yellow... Amazing. How did you change the colors? Riddle: This is my first time doing fireworks. So, I just light the tip of this stick on fire? Azul: Inside Mostro Lounge, it's common for us to set up fireworks on cakes and for celebrations. ... So it's refreshing to do it outside like this instead. He then walks over to Floyd who is quietly watching everyone else play.

Azul: Even though you were so enthusiastic about making them earlier, you're not doing a firework yourself. Floyd: Mm, now I feel like watching instead of doing. Azul: I didn't think you were the type to get all sentimental while watching fireworks. Could it be... that if Jade was here, you would do them then? (he has a mischievous smile here, so he's probably trying to embarrass Floyd) Floyd: Why're you talking about Jade? He's probably running the Lounge alone right now so I'm gonna hear a lot of complaints when I get back. I'll hear that instead of "I wish I could have been there~" Anyway, isn't it more fun if he and I do our fun things separately and then come back with souvenirs and stories? If you like those stories, then you'll wanna visit those places. If you don't like 'em, then you won't go. Floyd: Jade is the same as me. With mountain climbing, one day he got hooked on it and started doing it alone. It's always more interesting if we do different things separately from each other. Besides... if we were together 24/7, I think things would be pretty bad between us.

Floyd: In the past, it was common for us to get into big fights and beat each other up. Azul: The way you brothers quarrel truly is ferocious. I was terrified the first time I witnessed it. Floyd: It's been a long time since it's been like that. When we get serious with each other, I know my life's in danger~ Well~ If I have to fight, then I'll do it~ Riddle: HEY, STITCH! GRIM! Don't go fighting with fireworks!

Floyd: Oh, looks like Stitch is having a good time! I'll join in too! Azul: Fu~ Doing something like this at night on this island certainly is refreshing. A fun game that sparks and pops at the tip of your fingers... huh... Are you satisfied, Floyd? Floyd: Ehh~? You think I'd be satisfied with only this much? Azul: Yes, that was a stupid question, wasn't it... By tomorrow you'll be looking for another stimulus.

Floyd: Hmm what should I do tomorrow~? Doing this on a deserted island is really rare, you know. So I wanna do something that'll make Jade say "Please take me with you next time~" Play, rampage, do whatever I want! Gotta enjoy myself so much that I don't have time to be bored!

And that's it! Very happy to have more crumbs of tweel lore......

[drarrily-we-row-along]

October 1: "I've Got You"

Draco Malfoy had had more than his fair share of humiliating moments. There seemed to be no shortage of things in his memory that made him simply want to crawl out of his skin with embarrassment, but this had to be one of the most horrifically mortifying things to ever happen to him.

His bank card was being declined at the check out. Face and neck heating horribly, he looked at the items he had to try to decide what to put back; a loaf of bread, sliced cheese, a jar of apple sauce, a jar of peanut butter, a dozen eggs, and a container of yogurt. "Oh," he said, heart racing as he tried to get past his anxiety to make a decision.

"Here," the man in line behind him said, "I've got you."

He turned, ready to decline his help, but those words fell away in favor of a spluttered, "Potter?"

"Hey, Malfoy," the other man said, nudging him out of the way with his elbow to insert his own card into the machine.

"No-" he started, too late.

Potter looked over at him, then back at his card, "I've got it," he said softly. And somehow there was compassion and understanding in his voice without any pity.

"I-" he tried again, looking at the fresh fruits and vegetables, the rice and potatoes, meats, and other delicious foods that Potter had piled on the belt behind him.

"Don't worry about it," he said before Draco could get any other words out. "Seriously," he added, looking at Draco from under his fringe, looking like he was the one feeling embarrassed as he pulled his card out of the machine and a receipt was printed.

Draco took his bag from the cashier and all but fled the store.

He wasn't too far, though, when he heard a set of footsteps jogging to catch up with him. "Hey-"

"Thank you," he said politely, "I-"

"No," Potter said, shaking his head. "Don't thank me. I just-" he broke off and Draco stared, waiting for him to continue.

When no other words were forth coming, he said, "If you were wanting to make fun of me-"

"No," Potter said, shaking his head vigorously. "No. Shit," he ran his hand through his hair. "Look, come to my house for dinner."

He blinked, "Excuse me?"

"I'm just making up a stir fry," he rambled on, "Nothing fancy just some rice, peppers, snap peas, onions, broccoli, steak, and some teriyaki sauce-"

"I'm fine," Draco said, even as his stomach growled at the thought of eating some actual fresh vegetables.

"Please," Potter said, grabbing his wrist to prevent Draco from turning away.

"Why?" he asked and he wondered if Potter could hear all of the questions in his head why would you help me? What's in it for you? Why aren't you mocking me? Do you just want to mock me in your home? What will this cost me?

Potter swallowed and looked down at his feet, "I know what it's like to not have enough," he said softly. "I wouldn't wish it on anyone. Just," he huffed, "Come on. Let me feed you dinner. Please."

"You have an insufferable martyr complex." he snapped but before he could go anywhere, Potter spoke up again.

"My aunt and uncle," he said, "they didn't feed me enough. I fucking hate peanut butter sandwiches. No one should eat them day in and out. Just," he shook his head, "let me make you some dinner. You don't have to stay to eat it, you don't have to talk to me, you don't have to do anything you don't want to."

"And that's it? You just want me to come to your house and eat your food?"

"That's the gist of it, yeah," Potter said, scrubbing a hand over the back of his neck. "I'm not going to drag you to my house or anything because that would be creepy," he said when Draco didn't reply, still weighing his options, "but I'd really like to do this for you."

"Alright," he whispered, still feeling embarrassed and overwhelmed but also a deep longing for vegetables.

Potter grinned at him, bright and charming, like it was the easiest thing in the world. "Brilliant. Come on then."

And that was the first time that Draco found himself having dinner with Harry Potter, but it certainly wasn't the last.

By the time he left that evening, with a full belly and a container of leftovers, he'd let himself be convinced to come back the following week. A weekly dinner on Wednesday became a Wednesday dinner and a Saturday dinner, which became dinner every other night. And then before he quite knew how it had happened, he was at his house every night for dinner, staying later and later like he never wanted to leave.

Because the truth was that he didn't want to leave. Harry listened to him talk about his dreams, about how hard he was working in the muggle nursing program he was enrolled in, about his shitty job that didn't pay enough. He loved Harry's cat, Milo. He loved looking at Harry's art and listening to him talk about the creative process of making it. He loved hearing about Harry's childhood and getting to talk about his own. He loved having someone to do the mundane things in life with like cooking, chatting, watching telly, even just having someone to sit on the other end of the couch while he studied.

Still it took him by surprise one evening when they were making waffles and bacon for dinner, Harry was at the stove and Draco was cutting up strawberries, when the other man said, "Hey, Draco?"

"Mmhmm?" he hummed around the strawberry that he'd popped in his mouth.

"You know how your job is shit?"

He laughed, "I do. Thanks for reminding me."

"Right," he said, glancing over his shoulder at him, "But what if you didn't have to pay rent, would that make things easier?"

"It would," he said slowly, not allowing his heart to rise, not allowing himself to hope.

Harry nodded, "Do you think you might ever consider moving in with me?" he asked. "No pressure or anything, but I have an extra room," he continued, "well, five, actually. And Sirius gave me the house, so I own it, and-"

"Harry," he said softly, fingers lighting on the other man's bicep to get him to slow down. "I would love to, but I can't take advantage of your generosity."

"You wouldn't have to," he said earnestly. "If you're not paying for rent, you could maybe help with the cost of groceries, if you feel like you need to. But I don't have a ton of expenses, and I have a stupid amount of money, and a ridiculously large house for one person," he babbled. "And I just really like you," he blurted before slapping a hand over his mouth.

Draco blinked at him, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, "You like me?"

Harry nodded, hand still firmly in place over his mouth.

"I like you too," he said softly. "But I don't want you to feel like I only like you because of what you can give me."

He dropped his hand, a tiny smile blossoming on his face, "I hoped you might." Harry reached over and took Draco's hand, "I don't think that you only like me for what I can give you. You see me and hear my words, you know me. I'd really like it if you stayed."

And really, who was Draco to deny Harry Potter anything that he wanted? So he stayed.

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

[dailyhelldorm]

[TL] Hokuto 3☆ Story / A Proper Study Session?

Scenario Writer: Happy Elements (Happy Elements株式会社) Characters: Hidaka Hokuto, Kunugi Akiomi, Shiratori Aira Season: Winter

Hokuto: ーAnd then, this will be your answer. Do you understand? Aira: …I am sorry, I didn’t get any of it at all. Hokuto: Why is it so? From what point did you not follow? Aira: S-since the beginning. Hokuto: What did you just say…

[Let's start! ♪]

Location: Seisoukan Book room

Hokuto: Alright, so this is the place where they put the book describing the role huh? I get most of the gist now, so let's call it a day and return to my dorm.

Aira: Haa...

Hokuto: (Huh...? The one over there looks like Shiratori-kun, what's the matter with him? How to put it, I feel the air around him is quite heavy.)

Aira: (It is not gotta end, not gotta end!!)

(You are telling me to finish all these dozens of math prints by tomorrow... That's impossible! There is no way I can do it!)

(Urgh, but my math test result is just too awful, I felt so bad... Especially with that kind of grade...)

(But that was because I was busy with work recently! I didn't have the time to study for the test!)

(Hah... I just keep complaining, but not that it will help me lessen this mountain of homework... If I knew things would be like this, I would have asked Hiro-kun to help me study.)

(It can't be helped, I just have to push through. Let's start with the first question...)

The first question...?

What the hell is this, I can't understand anything at all!

Hokuto: You must keep quiet inside the book room, Shiratori-kun.

Aira: Wah-wah, Hidaka-senpai! I'm so sorry! Did I just say everything out loud?

Hokuto: It is fine since there is no one other than me here, but you should be more careful. You need to mind the precise manner when using common places like here.

Aira: Yes, I will be more careful in the future...

Hokuto: Aside from that, what’s the matter? You are making a lot of funny faces by yourself just now.

Aira: Y-You saw that...!? No way, I am so embarrassed~!

Hokuto: No, it was quite interesting to see, I might refer to it in the future. Acting requires expressing a lot of complicated emotions after all.

Aira: B-but still, being stared at by Hidaka-senpai like that!

Hokuto: I forgot to greet you. Sorry about that. Moreover, you seem to be troubled by something?

Aira: Ah, you see, my math result is quite terrible, so I was given a lot of these homework papers. However, I don’t understand any question at all…

I was going to ask Hasumi-senpai to teach me in our ‘Keito Lecture’ activity, but unfortunately, it seems that he has a job today. I have to make it through by myself somehow. 

Hokuto: I see. Well, you normally have to balance between studying and idol work. The problem here seems to be that even when you have the time to do your homework, you often feel unmotivated with your study.

Aira: Urghgh, you got that right, I can’t retort…

Hokuto: By the way, how much did you score on the last test?

Aira: Uhm… I-I got three points.

Hokuto: Hmm, that is quite alarming. If you already stumble with schoolwork since the first year, all the practical questions will get more difficult when you move up to the next grades.

Aira: No way, if I can’t keep up with my study, how am I going to continue to work as an idol anymore!

Hokuto: I know. How about I will personally tutor you, Shiratori-kun?

Aira: H-Hidaka-senpai will?

Hokuto: Ah, I don’t have any subject I’m fundamentally bad at, and I am better at studying than most people. Moreover, helping a troubled junior is what a normal senior should do.

Aira: Really!? Thank you so much! Please help me with your guidance!

Hokuto: Alright, let us start swiftly. What questions do you not understand?

Aira: Erm, it is this question. ‘The little brother has left the house early and the big brother notices that he has forgotten something. How long will it take for the big brother to chase after him?’

Hokuto: Fumu… This is not a question for high school freshmen, rather this is a question you learned in middle school.

Aira: Ahaha… My grades are so bad that I guess I am being told to go back to the basics. I doubt that I can solve them later on…

Hokuto: I see. Then let’s start right away. The walking speed of the little brother is 80 meters per minute…

(Several minutes later)

Hokuto: ーAnd then, this will be your answer. Do you understand?

Aira: …I am sorry, I didn’t get any of it at all.

Hokuto: Why is it so? From what point did you not follow?

Aira: S-since the beginning.

Hokuto: What did you just say…

Aira: But how should I put it, this question doesn’t make any sense to me in the first place. I get confused because why there will be some kind of situation that makes the big brother run after his little brother to give him his stuff like this?

Hokuto: Hmm. If that is so, how about you replace these brothers with someone you are familiar with?

Aira: I see! Is there anyone who can fit in this situation? If any brothers I am familiar with… Maybe Hiro-kun and Rinne-senpai?

Hokuto: Certainly they do fit in the situation of delivering the forgotten item, but the big brother might end up stopping by a pachinko lot midway. In the end, he might not be able to meet up with the little brother.

Even if we change to let the little brother come after him, underage can’t go inside the lot anyway.

Aira: Ahaha, I get the point. Then how about the Sakuma brothers?

Hokuto: In those brothers’ case, if the big brother is chasing after the little brother, then the little brother will never let the big brother meet up with him.

Aira: I can totally see that! Every pair of brothers we know is super wacky ♪ None of them might gotta match the question here though!

Hokuto: Then how about thinking of Shiratori-kun as the little brother being chased after?

Aira: I am the person who is being chased after? Uhm~ who will be the other one here?

Someone I’m familiar with and can notice when I forget my stuff… might be Tassun-senpai. Ah! But having my favorite idols come after me to give my thing back might be the best thing ever!

After all, we all live together under Seisoukan anyway ♪ Maybe after ‘Pretty 5’s activity, Tomoe-senpai is going to chase after me to give back my forgotten item~ Ufufufufu ♪

Hokuto: Hmm, Tomoe-senpai you say… For sure, he will notice that you have forgotten your thing, but he might not be the one to directly pursue you. Maybe he will make Sazanami run after you in his place, or call a taxi and have them drive him back to Seisoukan.

Either way, instead of chasing after you, he might arrive at the dorm before you do.

Aira: I’m totally fine with that, especially when Tomoe-senpai is waiting for me at the dorm, right? If that really happens, I would want to forget my stuff every day ♪

Hokuto: I see. You can think about it in that way. Then what if I’m the person who forgets their thing, who will be the one delivering it?

Aira: Hidaka-senpai and Akehoshi-senpai often are together, right? How about Akehoshi-senpai?

Hokuto: Instead of myself being on the receiving end, I think he will be the one who forgets his stuff and needs me to deliver it for him.

Aira: Then how about in this question’s case? If you put it in context, Hidaka-senpai and Akehoshi-senpai might fit perfectly ♪

Hokuto: Hmm? I don’t think so. If anything, this question isn’t really about us…

Aira: Ahaha ♪ Maybe you are right about it!

Hokuto: Actually on our last day off, I was together with Akehoshi in Seisoukan, and weー

Location: Yumenosaki Staff Room

(The next day)

Akiomi: My goodness, why you didn’t finish your homework?

Aira: I’m sorry! You see, there were a lot of things happening… Ehehe ♪

Akiomi: What are you laughing about!

Aira: M-my apologies!

Akiomi: Whatever your reason might be, missing your deadline is a no-good thing, both in your normal idol activity and in your own regular life! Do you hear me, in the first place, your math test result is…

Aira: (Urgh~ Today’s lecture will be hella long as well…)

(In the end, I couldn’t finish any of my homework, but I am super happy that I got Hidaka-senpai to tutor me ♪ Hidaka-senpai actually has a lot of funny particulars about him.)

(I only knew Hidaka-senpai’s idol side before, but when I tried to talk to him, he was a more interesting person than I had expected ♪)

(Next time if I have another homework assignment, I want Hidaka-senpai to tutor me again~)

[The end ☆]

[jellyfishsthings]

Warnings: um smut... wrap it before you tap it, piv, fem!reader, academical rivals to lovers, probably the filthiest thing I have ever written... if you know me, no you don't

Part 1 , Part 3

Things since last week haven't changed much. Remus and I still had our rivalry going stronger than ever. Especially after the hallway incident, which ended up with him having a large red handprint on his cheek, indicating a really strong slap. In my defense, he was getting close. Ever since we haven't stopped arguing with each other, until…

"I can't work with her."

"It's impossible to work with him."

As quickly as the words left our mouths, we sharply turned to glare at each other. Completely missing Professor's McGonagall proud look.

"You are working together on this project. And you will present to me the best project in the class because you are both Perfects and have to give the right example. I don't care about whether you like each other or not."

Seething I exit the room with a newfound speed, and Remus closely follows behind my heels.

"Can you just slow down a bit?" He asks, and I instantly stop walking, turning towards him, waiting impatiently to hear what he has to say. "She's right, you know. We have to make this fucking project as perfect as possible. So I think we should call a truce." He slowly proposes as if this will simply fix our problems. I stare at him blankly, and I see his nostrils flaring. "Look. I don't like this either, ok? But I need the grade, and if it were someone else, I would just make the project myself. But since it's you … if we work together we could… We are at the top of every class for a reason. Just…." His voice eventually gives up.

"Fine," I say, "meet me at the library at 7. We have a lot of research to do"

This was how I found myself meeting with my all-time rival every day in the library for two months. The insults never stopped flying from one to the other, but surprisingly, we made a good team, and the project was almost finished. We are now accustomed to each other and our habits. Like Remus… when he read something for a really long time, he would remove his glasses and rub his eyes and his nose, smoothing it out after being scrunched up. Or when we got tired, he would share his chocolates to boost our morals and energies.

Many comments have been floating around the halls."How long until they fuck it out?", "God, he could eat her alive, for what she said to him.","He must be really smitten with her for putting up with her." ... Well, you got the gist of it.

Now, as I was getting ready for bed, a thought occurred. We never looked in the secluded area for any useful information. So, I put on my slippers and headed towards the library once again.

I slowly walk down the hallways, trying to get past Flinch. The great mahogany walls of the library greet me with a loud groan. I grab one of the oil lanterns that rest on the librarian's desk and head towards the restricted section. I find books related to the project and start reading them. Keeping notes under the candlelit room.

I could be reading for hours or mere minutes when I hear footsteps. I quickly blow out the flame and hide in the darkest spot I can find between the bookcases. As the sound of footsteps comes closer my breathing turns faster and more panicky. Good God I am going to get caught? Am I going to get detention? What am I going to do?

That's when I feel a hand close around my mouth. Silencing me. Wait …what? Silencing me? A familiar scent fills my nostrils.

"Stay quiet or else we are going to get caught." He whispers in my ear. His Welsh accent dripped like honey, his voice raspy and almost deathly quiet. Heat pools in my core as a dream resurfaces in my brain. "Stay quiet or else we are going to get caught." He says as he pounds into me while he has my hips in a tight grip, guiding back and forth.

As I snap out of my trance, I push his hand harshly off me. "What the hell are you doing here?", I whisper-yell at him.

"What the hell are you doing here?", he fires back. We stare at each other with our eyes slitted as we both breath heavily.

"How did you even know I was here?", I ask him accusingly, even though I have been caught in the act.

"The marauders map." He answers back easily as if that answer would ring a bell and not cause more questions.

"The what ?"

"I think he is gone."

"Oh really?"

"Why do you like to test me, woman?"

"Possibly because of your super nice personality or better yet because you're a prick."

He just returned the favor with a wolfish grin, notice the irony.

"Why are you smiling?" I snap at him.

"Oh because you are so nicely close to me and you haven't uttered a word about that." Just as the words leave his mouth I feel my cheeks heat. Jesus why am I blushing? At least he can't see it. "And yes I can see you blushing"

How did he…? Is he a mind reader?

"Also I am no mind reader, i just know you that well." His face is dangerously close now. The empty, now, library is ominously quiet and I can almost feel our breaths echo in the room. There is no escape, is there? His mouth is almost atop of mine, his breath fanning my face.

"Gosh why are you like this? Why must you test me until I snap? Why do I love it so much?" He says as his lips crush into mine in a bruising kiss that steals my breath away. He manhandles me so that our chests are pressed together and I am promptly sitting in his lap, feeling a long hard cock press against my clad yet soaking wet pussy. Insults fly out of our mouths in-between every heated kiss.

"Punk"

"Jerk"

"Dickhead"

"Oh you are going to feel that soon."

"Bite me, Lupin."

"If you insist."

We discard our clothes as fast as possible until he grabs hold of my thighs and he slams me on the flat surface of the bookcase.

Right opposite the window, it's so dark outside that our reflections fill my eyesight. His scarred, white freckled back in contrast with my tanned legs, due to all the sun exposure, that are wrapped around his waist and my arms in his shoulders. One of my hands is buried deep in his brown curled hair that is now buried in my neck leaving bites and hickeys as he bites, laps and sucks, leaving permanent marks behind his trail. While the other scratches his back, as my legs draw back and my back arches.

Horrified gasps sound in the room, mixing with my moans and his groans. My eyes open immediately, leaving their half hooded state, searching the room for intruders but not finding anyone until…. Of course, the portraits. Great I am about to get royally fucked by Remus Lupin and not only will I have to live with the memory of it but now the portraits saw what we were doing, I was catastrophically doomed, I laugh at the thought.

And Remus leaves his task and draws slightly back, enough for him to keep impossibly close but still be able to see my face.

"I love your laugh. And I absolutely hate the fact that I am not the one causing it. But that is going to change. Everything is going to change from now on, you bellend." The breath is being knocked out of my lungs. "And now I am going to fuck you. I reckon you are wet enough so as not to hurt." He says as his fingers play with my clit. "I would say you are quite drenched actually. You know I have been thinking of this, dreaming it even. Fucking you hard and deep, until you are nothing more that a brainless brat." Gasps and moans are his only answers.

"Thank God you seem to like that because I don't think I can hold back any more." He seals these words with a kiss as he enters me in one fluid motion until he is balls deep. Our mouths are open now as we try to catch our breaths and I stare at his eyes, trying to find the familiar mischievous dark green that haunted my every thought. His forehead dropped to mine as he started to move inside me at an insane pace. His balls are slapping against my clit as he hits all the right spots.

My back arches and my head falls back as my eyes close. I feel one of his hands slide up my back and rest somewhere between my ribs, commanding me to stay in place as I feel…. No this can't be right. My gaze moves to the window and what I see almost brings me right over the edge right there and then. His head is buried in my chest hiding all the toying he is doing at my breasts, paying extra attention to my nipples. Marking them up too.

"God I wish I could mark up our thighs and pussy too but that will have to wait."

"Remus, you prick, how dare you…" I say in a breathless voice my insult is lost in all the pleasure I am feeling.

"Yes, how dare I make you feel all this pleasure. Huh?" He mouths in my chest as he has his lips wrapped around one of my tits.

"I am close" I whimper

"I know, sweetheart. Let go for me. I've gotcha."

I don't know what actually sent me over the edge. The nickname, the command, reassurance, a mixture of all of them? Well whatever it was it rocked my world. I never thought an orgasm could last that long or be so powerful. It was literally dripping down my thighs to his and then falling to the ground. Embarrassingly so. He had finished too. His face was buried in my chest trying to catch our breaths.

He turns to look at me, smirking. Oh no. I already know what he is going to say. And I won't be able to say no.

"Ready for round two?"

words: 1.741

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest.

Charles III

Day #18 - "Freak" | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Goodie (Freak) | Pairing: None | Tags: Band Practice, Goodie & Gareth, The Birth of a Nickname, He's Goodie Goodwin the First

Charles reaches into the backseat of his car, and pulls out his bass case, heading up towards the open garage. The van isn't hogging up all the parking out front, so that means Eddie isn't here yet, but Eddie's never been on time a day in his goddamn life, so that's to be expected.

But Jeff's running late too, so it must be time for his braces to be tightened, which explains his unusual absence. Because otherwise, Jeff runs like clockwork.

So, that leaves him alone with Gareth, which, historically, doesn't always go smoothly. 

Charles puts down his guitar case, starting to take off his leather jacket.

"Hey, Goodie," Gareth says, not really looking up from his drums, fiddling, tuning the head, and Charles freezes, only one sleeve of his jacket pulled off his arm. 

"What'd you call me?" Charles asks, and Gareth looks up. 

"What?" Gareth asks. 

"What'd you just call me?" he asks again, and he can see Gareth wilting. He's the youngest, and easily picked on. Charles knows part of that is his fault. He found a raw nerve, or three, and just kept stripping them for fun.

Gareth's an easy mark, and they've all taken advantage of that, liberally.

"Sorry," Gareth says. "I don't know, it just, like, came out."

"No, that's okay." 

Then he adds, softer, "I think I liked it."

And yeah. He likes it. Goodie. 

Charles Goodwin is his father, and his grandpa. He's never felt like he's a Charlie or a Chuck. There was the week he tried Chaz on for size. But that was a disaster. 

So, Charles it was. Just for lack of another viable option. He had long ago accepted that he didn't have a name of his own, just one borrowed from his dad. Eddie's been calling him Goodwin, which was fine. He'll take that. It was the best thing he'd heard so far.

That's probably the slip that Gareth made. Goodwin to Goodie. 

And that? That could work.

"Yeah? You do?" Gareth asks, looking unsure.

Goodie nods, and Gareth grins, looking back at him. 

Eddie rushes in, and acts like he's been waiting on them, instead of the reality. Asshole.

"Okay, what are we waiting on?" Eddie asks, slinging his guitar over his shoulder 

"Jeff?" Gareth suggests and Eddie looks around, like he just noticed Jeff wasn't among them.

"Well, where the hell is he?"

"Orthodontist. You know that," Goodie says. Because they all know that. It's scheduled like a train. 

"Oh. Right," Eddie says. 

"I have an idea we can work on while we wait," Gareth says, and this should be good. 

"This isn't working," Gareth admits. 

"No shit," Goodie agrees. 

"Maybe I'll do this," Gareth says, and then he demonstrates a new pattern on his drums, "and then maybe you could do this," Gareth says, making the sound of a bass line with his mouth. Poorly. 

But Goodie gets the gist of what he means, and it's not a bad idea. It's a good pivot. 

At this point they should try anything. 

On the next go, he plays it, adding his own spin, and it sounds really good. Really, really good. 

"Holy shit, Goodie! That's it!" Gareth yells, and Goodie starts to smile, but then Eddie is interrupting. 

"Goodie? What the fuck kind of name is that?" he asks, cackling. 

Goodie wants to back down. To turn on Gareth, too. Because if Eddie thinks it sucks, maybe it does. 

Maybe he needs to go back to the drawing board. 

But, he likes it. It feels right. 

It feels like his name. And nothing ever has before.

So, no, he's not letting Eddie ruin this. 

"It's a nickname, you got a problem with that?" Goodie snaps. He's not putting up with this shit. 

"No, it's just…" Eddie trails off, looking confused by his outburst. 

"Just what?" Goodie asks, giving him a stare down. 

"Odd," Eddie answers, "unusual." 

"Didn't realize we were aiming for conformity here," Goodie grumbles. 

"We aren't. I was just surprised. That's all. Honest, I'm not trying to start shit," Eddie says, and Goodie realizes he's gonna win this round. 

That's not always the case when it comes to Eddie. 

Goodie relaxes. Eddie's not trying to make fun of him, and Goodie knows that. He just doesn't want Eddie to think less of him, either. That's always a concern, even if he's pretty sure it doesn't need to be. Eddie likes him. He wouldn't be here, in the band, in Hellfire, if Eddie didn't like him. 

Eddie suffers no fools, and he doesn't put up with much shit. He likes you, or he doesn't, and Goodie is glad that so far he's always fallen in the like column more often than not. 

"Where'd you get it?" Eddie asks. "The nickname," Eddie clarifies, and Gareth is squirming on his stool, acting like he's not sure if he should be proud or scared. 

"Gare," Goodie says, and Eddie turns and looks at Gareth and grins.

"Really?" Eddie asks.

"Don't make it a thing," Goodie says, "it's definitely not a thing. He accidently said it, I liked it, end of story."

Eddie nods, but he just keeps looking between them, as if this were a very important moment in time. 

Maybe it is.

Hell if Goodie knows.

Goodie's just glad they're moving on. He hates the spotlight being directed at him most of the time. 

And he's saved by the bell, when Jeff pulls up. 

Jeff's getting situated, quickly and efficiently, when Eddie says, "Jeff. This is Goodie now." 

Jeff turns and smiles, "Hi, Goodie. Nice to meet you." 

The bands on his braces are red now, Goodie notices. 

Goodie just rolls his eyes, like he's not tickled, but that's exactly why Jeff's Goodie's favorite, his best friend. He'll roll with anything thrown at him, no matter how weird. 

They are used to being subjected to weird. They're all friends with Eddie Munson, after all. 

"Okay, Goodie. Kick us off," Jeff says, Goodie lays the bass line. 

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇

[aurumacadicus]

I posted the first two parts of minotaur Steve (under same tag) specifically so you all could have some slight background on this scene (because I wanted it to hurt more probably):

"You have to come," Tony exclaims, angry, but there's some genuine panic threading his voice. "We've come this far, you can't just--"

"You dragged me this far," Steve snarls, and only feels a little bad when Tony takes a nervous step backward. "You took me from the labyrinth for your own reasons. It was never to rescue me from living and dying there. Now you want me to die to save you? You're no better than the gods."

Tony looks hurt for a moment, like Steve has taken one of his massive hands and just slapped him, but it doesn't hide the hint of shame that crosses his face. He recovers quickly, though, anger covering everything. "It's not my fault. I'm not the one who made that shitty prophecy. I wanted to solve my own problems. The gods are the ones who decided I couldn't!"

"So you'd sacrifice me?!" Steve bellows, and Tony skitters backward, clutching the Rogers shield to himself protectively. "Like I'm a dumb animal?! You should have taken one of the others. At least they wouldn't know one way or the other." He glares at Tony for a moment. He doesn't know how to explain how much this betrayal hurts, that Tony knew the gist of the prophecy meant Steve would probably die and had strung him along with him anyway. Had probably offered Steve the gift of his body knowing he would never have to fulfill it, he thought, perhaps uncharitably. He doesn't even want that, which doesn't help the hurt at all.

He should have known the world outside the labyrinth wasn't for him, is probably what hurts the most. There was a reason his mother had never brought him outside, even after she'd realized Steve could navigate the walls. She'd never asked him to find the way out so she could show him the sky. She'd known what Tony had apparently known, but hadn't had the heart to tell him--he's a monster, and men kill monsters. There will never be a place for him in open air.

"I hope the Hydra Cult burns your entire forest to the fucking ground," Steve snarls, and it mostly isn't true, but he wants Tony to hurt as much as he'd hurt him.

It works a little too well, he thinks, as Tony sucks in a breath that sounds more painful than helpful. His eyes fill with tears, and his face flushes with shame and embarrassment. There's a moment where he starts to feel guilty.

But Tony rallies quickly, flush turning to anger, blinking back his tears as if they never existed. "Fine. Go back to the labyrinth for all I care. I hope someone kills and roasts you like the beast you are before you get there," he snarls. He throws the shield at Steve's hooves. "I don't need this. I don't need you. I can take care of my forest myself."

"Sure," Steve spits back, glaring, as Tony turns on his heel to stomp down the road. The urge to remind him he had to save him from a few satyrs along the way is on the tip of his tongue, but something in him makes him swallow it back. Probably the part of him that remembers his mother's expression before she'd told him to run away and hide. It would be too low a blow, even for him, even as angry as he is.

He bends to pick up the shield. He doesn't understand how it can be a weapon. His mother had never spoken of it. But then, it had been from her husband's side of the family. He had inherited it because of her name, not because they'd accepted him. They'd only given it to him when Tony had mentioned a prophecy. Humans were scared of being on the wrong side of a prophecy, the village elder had said as he'd passed it over to them. It's heavy. He's reluctantly impressed Tony had carried it as long as he had, too anxious at the sight of the emblem burned into his hip to take it in his own hands.

Was Tony's kind understanding just pity, because he knew he was bringing Steve to die, Steve wonders. Or was he being kind to be kind? He'll never know, he figures, turning to chuck it into the sea.

Then he hears a sound, perhaps the most awful one he's ever heard--agony, and defeat, and dismay, all at once. His mother had instilled a conscience in him. He turns.

Tony is crumpling to the ground. Steve thinks he's tripped, for a moment, except his hands don't go out to catch himself. He just falls, and lies there where he landed, small and unmoving. Like the gods had struck him down where he stood for his hubris.

"Tony," Steve gasps, only half against his will, and thunders after him.

Steve is so careful as he turns him onto his back, feeling awkward and unwieldy. Tony's shaking--seizing, he remembers his mother calling it once, eyes rolled back in his head, saliva foaming in the corners of his mouth. As he watches, a drop of blood begins to trickle from his nose. He cradles Tony's head in one big hand, so he doesn't hit it on anything, feeling helpless, just like he had as his mother had passed away in his arms.

Tony doesn't pass away, though. Eventually, he sags in Steve's hold, eyelids fluttering. He coughs, and a fine mist of blood fills the air in front of his mouth.

"Tony," Steve whispers, pulling him close to his chest. "What happened?"

Tony says nothing for a few minutes, focused on catching his ragged breath. Finally, though, he croaks, "They cut through one of my heartwoods." He coughs again, then sobs, looking up at Steve with liquid eyes. "Steve, they're killing everyone in the east of my forest."

Steve frowns. "How do you know?"

"I can feel them dying," Tony sobs, and somehow he manages the strength to grab Steve's arm, crying in earnest. "I can feel all of them dying around me. I couldn't protect them. I couldn't do enough. They're dying because of me."

"Tony," Steve whispers, cradling him to his chest, as Tony sobs and sobs.

[tumblingghosts]

“gimme that baby and i’ll yeet it off a tower-” “what.”

aka perimedes "helps" odysseus with a moral dilemma

if you haven't seen this video that jay posted about a cut song with perimedes, do yourself a favor and go watch it-

anyway, here's a short snippet where perimedes is there for the whole prophecy about astyanax (not to be taken seriously at all)

---

He seeks out the Captain as the battle draws to a close. 

Perimedes is riding the wave of triumph at the Trojans’ fall, and he knows many of his companions are doing the same. They are right to! This is a joyous victory—one worthy of a grand celebration. Well deserved, after the ten years of war they had spent away from home, and Perimedes wanted to begin the festivities sooner rather than later.

But they could not start without their Captain.

So Perimedes does the favor of seeking him out, finding the Captain in one of the highest rooms of Troy’s far tower. He makes to call out to him, but there is a screech, and a flash of lightning despite the clear skies. Something (his dying sense of self-preservation) tells him to keep quiet. Perimedes does, and learns of a prophecy.

He thinks he is missing much of it, but the gist is that there is an evil baby that will grow into an evil man, and he will kill the Captain’s family. Perimedes watches as the Captain tries to appeal to a being he cannot see. It feels like a terribly solemn affair, and Perimedes did not come here to experience tragedy. It did not seem like the Captain was in a terribly hale state to party, however. 

Bummer. Perimedes silently thinks that the Captain should work on killing that baby as effectively as he’d killed the mood. He watches the Captain stand over the evil baby’s cradle for a long moment, then two, then three—and he continues to stand there, unmoving, for so long that Perimedes begins to think that Zeus might have turned him into a statue. 

But no, the Captain is perfectly fine. 

In fact, he has finally begun to reach for the evil baby. 

Slowly. Very slowly.

Chop chop, man, thinks Perimedes. Pick up the pace so we can get home.

---

...and then perimedes yeets the baby (sorry astyanax!)