#(she doesn't remember him either. but they will meet again. she knows it.)

[seitmai]

“Mrs. Rogers, you and Steve had to cancel the traditional honeymoon, has it put a strain on your marriage, and will you be taking a honeymoon any time soon?” “Oh, Ben, are you saying this isn’t a honeymoon? I thought all newlyweds took a five-month long zig-zagging trek all across America to kick off their marriage!”

Perfect answer 👌🏻

You nod, trying to ignore the small flutter in your stomach at the mention of Steve's name. It's ridiculous, you tell yourself. You're married to the man, for goodness sake. And you both know it’s a marriage for the stability of this campaign and the future presidency.

Don't ignore the flutter!! Even if you are already married!

As if sensing your presence, Steve looks up, his eyes meeting yours across the room. His face softens slightly, and he excuses himself from the conversation, making his way over to you.

🥰🥰🥰

"You've got this, Steve," you say softly, placing a hand on his arm. The gesture feels both natural and strange - you're still navigating the boundaries of your unique relationship. "Just remember why you're doing this. Speak from the heart, like you always do."Steve's eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you see a flash of vulnerability there. "Thank you," he says, his voice low.

She just saw right through him and knew exactly what he needed to hear 😌

"We could also leverage social media more effectively," you continue, warming to your topic. "Not just posting sound bites, but creating engaging content that breaks down complex issues in accessible ways. Maybe even collaborate with some respected influencers who align with our values." Steve leans back in his chair, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I like it. What else?”

I just know he look at her so proud 🤭

“What a surprise! The anit-social, bionic man with a staring problem doesn’t like the idea of pal-ing around with the new Mrs. Rogers! Man, I know you only recently started to like me, but can you get on board with her.” “Who says I like you?” he counters. “Ha ha,” Sam retorts dryly. “You should be so lucky that next time we put you up for president so we could canvas the country for a girl who could put up with you and all your bullshit.”

Hahaha Bucky and Sam are not letting a single chance pass to spat with each other 😂

“You don’t even know, do you?” Sam presses him, his tone incredulous. You hold your breath, straining to hear Steve's response. There's a long pause before he speaks. "It's not that simple, Sam," Steve says, his voice low and weary. "This whole situation... it's complicated." "Complicated how?" Sam presses. "She's smart, she's kind, she's dedicated to the cause. And let's be real, she's not hard on the eyes either. What's holding you back?"

Sam is just the biggest hype man and not only has Steve's back, but hers too

"No," Steve says quickly. "Not fake. Just... I don't know. Forced. This whole situation - it's not the same as the tour for war bonds back in ‘43, but it’s still a production. I never imagined being in a situation like this again." "None of us imagined this, Steve," Bucky chimes in, his tone softer than before.

Bucky is very right 🤷🏻‍♀️

"And she's here now, too,” Sam circles back to you, “and she's trying. You can't keep pushing her away." "I know," Steve says, his voice tinged with frustration. "I see it. She's incredible out there. The way she connects with people, the way she articulates our message, she’s all in and she's a natural." "So what's the problem?" Sam presses. "If I let her in and this doesn't work out..." "You mean the campaign?" Sam asks. "No," Steve says.

Steve is overthinking it, but i feel like that just shows how much he cares 🥺

Another silence falls between you, but it feels almost companionable, and the two of you enjoy your breakfast. Usually people try to fill any potentially silent moment around you these days, and so the reprieve itself is nice, but it doesn’t last long.

If you can enjoy some peace and quiet together that can be more meaningful that always having to have something going on ☝🏻

Red, White & True: Las Vegas & Cleveland (2/?)

Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers x curvy Millennial Female!Reader, Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes Word Count: 4k Summary: Three months has raced by since you agreed to join the campaign team of Rogers for America as Steve runs for President of the United States of America. You've settled in and are starting to hit your stride campaigning, but what the state of affairs for your marriage?

Content/Warnings: marriage of political convenience, slow burn

Notes: This takes place in a post-Endgame scenario where Steve stays and generally most of TFATWS happened.

Previous Chapter | Series

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[SEPTEMBER 2 - Las Vegas, Nevada]

“Mrs. Rogers!” “Mrs. Rogers!”

You exchange a brief look with your assistant Sophia. She nods to wordlessly confirm that you have a few moments and should engage with the press. Taking a deep breath, you turn and approach the bank of reporters waiting and eager to regale you with questions.

There are a few familiar faces who’ve been consistently covering the Rogers for America campaign, some of them even assigned specifically to report on you - mostly friends, but some that could be categorized in the foe column.

“Mrs. Rogers, you and your husband are in the same city for the first time in eighteen days.” This is one of the faces you aren’t familiar with in the gaggle of press. “Are you looking forward to being reunited as you support him in the first presidential debate tonight?”

Eighteen days… You hadn’t realized it had been that long, but you’ve become a trained professional when appearing in public now, and you don’t let your face betray any shock or unease.

“Yes, we’re eager to spend time together.” Consummate professional that you’ve become, you do play into showing a little bit of surprise. “Has it been eighteen days? Who’s been tracking this? Clearly we need you on our campaign team!”

It garners some good-natured laughs from the group.

“Mrs. Rogers, you and Steve had to cancel the traditional honeymoon, has it put a strain on your marriage, and will you be taking a honeymoon any time soon?”

“Oh, Ben, are you saying this isn’t a honeymoon? I thought all newlyweds took a five-month long zig-zagging trek all across America to kick off their marriage!”

A few more laughs.

“Steve is serious about this campaign, and we both knew the sacrifices we would be making along the way. Our time together is very limited, but I can tell you, without question, that Steve will be as dedicated to his roles and responsibilities as President as you have seen him be to this campaign. One thing we speak about frequently when we do have time together are the incredible people we’re meeting as we travel from state to state and get to talk with you, see what your life looks like in each new place.” This is true. It’s become one of the unspoken safe topics you can bring up at the drop of a hat with each other. “We’re getting the opportunity to experience first-hand that although we’re all so different, there’s so much that unites us as Americans, shoulder to shoulder, regardless of the part of the country we live in.”

“Thank you, everyone,” Sophia steps up and cuts in. “I’m sure we’ll see you all tonight at the debate. A reminder that the Rogers for America campaign will hold a brief press conference ten minutes after the debate concludes. For now, you have to let me get Mrs. Rogers in the car and on the way to the university or we’re not going to beat traffic - and neither will any of you.”

Then Sophia ushers you away, and you slip into the vehicle waiting for you both.

“Good answers,” she says, as the driver pulls away. “You’re really becoming comfortable fielding their questions and directing their energy where we want to see it go.”

You smile at Sophia's praise. She’s genuine but very no-nonsense, so she doesn’t throw out compliments to placate you or anyone else. It’s one of the reasons you promoted her to your assistant. "Thanks. I do feel like I'm starting to get the hang of it. Though I have to admit, I was a bit thrown by that '18 days' comment."

Sophia nods sympathetically. "I know. It's been a whirlwind, but you're doing great. The public loves you, and your approval ratings are holding steady."

You lean back in your seat, letting out a small sigh. "Approval ratings. Sometimes I still can't believe this is my life now."

As the car weaves through traffic, your mind drifts back to the past few months. The whirlwind wedding, the campaign launch, the endless string of rallies, interviews, and public appearances. You've barely had a moment to catch your breath, let alone get to know your husband.

Steve. Your husband.

In name and public persona only, it seems. The campaign trails that are being charted and continually adjusted for you, Steve, the VP nominee, and his wife, have all four of you covering as much ground as possible, and there’s rarely any overlap, but it does seem like you’re rarely with the Mr. to your Mrs. It makes things simultaneously more and less complicated. More complicated because the lack of time together means it’s more awkward that you’re still basically acquaintances but have to look the part of happy newlyweds. Less complicated because at least you’re not messing with any deep or complex feelings.

"Mrs. Rogers?" Sophia's voice pulls you from your thoughts. "We're almost there. Are you ready?"

You straighten up, smoothing down the front of your outfit. "As ready as I'm going to be. What's on the agenda before the debate?"

Sophia consults her tablet. "You have a meet and greet with the VP and a group of the local campaign volunteers. Steve should be arriving about forty-five minutes before the debate starts. Twenty minutes before the debate, you all have a brief prep session with the communications team - updates on the developments over the day and reviewing the message for tonight."

You nod, trying to ignore the small flutter in your stomach at the mention of Steve's name. It's ridiculous, you tell yourself. You're married to the man, for goodness sake. And you both know it’s a marriage for the stability of this campaign and the future presidency.

The car pulls up to the Thomas & Mack Center at the University of Nevada, and you take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the chaos that awaits. As you step out, you're immediately greeted by flashing cameras and shouts from the crowd. You smile and wave, but don't stop to answer any questions as you make your way inside, following someone from the debate logistics team to get to the staging and holding area.

Backstage is a flurry of activity. Campaign staffers rush back and forth, last-minute preparations are being made, and there's an electric tension in the air. Your eyes scan the room, looking for one person in particular.

And then you see him. Steve is standing off to the side, deep in conversation with one of the communications strategists. Even after all these months, the sight of him still takes your breath away. He's tall, broad-shouldered, and undeniably handsome in his perfectly tailored navy suit. His brow is furrowed in concentration as he listens intently to the woman in front of him.

As if sensing your presence, Steve looks up, his eyes meeting yours across the room. His face softens slightly, and he excuses himself from the conversation, making his way over to you.

"Hey," he says softly as he approaches, leaning in to give you a quick kiss on the cheek. It's for show, you know, it’s important that even your own campaign staff thinks this marriage is more than surface level, and you stifle the small thrill that runs through you at the gesture. It’s only a gesture.

"Hi," you reply, managing to offer up an encouraging smile. "How are you feeling? Ready for tonight?"

Steve nods, his expression determined. "As ready as I'll ever be. We still have a long weeks ahead, but I think we're in a good position - and that’s what they keep saying across the team at this point."

You nod, studying his face. Despite his confident words, you can see the tension in his jaw, the slight crease between his brows. You've learned to read these subtle signs over the past few months, even with your limited time together.

"You've got this, Steve," you say softly, placing a hand on his arm. The gesture feels both natural and strange - you're still navigating the boundaries of your unique relationship. "Just remember why you're doing this. Speak from the heart, like you always do."

Steve's eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you see a flash of vulnerability there. "Thank you," he says, his voice low. "I -”

But before he can say the rest of what he was going to, Sophia approaches, tablet in hand. "Mrs. Rogers, we need to go to the reception with the volunteers from the local campaign team."

[SEPTEMBER 7 - Cleveland, Ohio]

The campaign strategy meeting is in full swing, the air thick with tension and the buzz of caffeine-fueled ideas. You're seated at a long table in a nondescript hotel conference room, surrounded by a sea of laptops, notepads, and half-empty coffee cups. The walls are covered with maps, poll numbers, and hastily scribbled strategies.

Steve sits at the head of the table, his brow furrowed in concentration as he listens to the latest polling data. You're positioned a few seats away, close enough to appear united, but not his most trusted. Sam, Bucky, the VP nominee Young and his assistant, the campaign press secretary, the communications director, all sit closer to or directly across from Steve, at the heart of the table. But you are closer than the finance director, legal advisor, speech writers, and the policy directors.

You're seated next Sam on your left with Sophia on your right, taking notes and pulling up memos on her laptop.

Steve is leaning forward, his brow furrowed in concentration as he listens to the campaign manager, Jake Thompson, deliver his latest assessment.

Jake, a seasoned political operative with salt-and-pepper hair and a no-nonsense attitude, stands at the head of the table, remote control in hand as he flips through a report on polling and focus groups that have been conducted over the past two weeks with Gen Z in urban, suburban, and rural pockets of the country.

"As you can see," Jake says, his voice carrying a mix of concern and determination, "this is where we’re making progress. Enough of them are tired of the rhetoric that’s been recycled all their lives, problems that never seem to be resolved because they’re too useful as campaign issues. That’s why an independent candidate is beginning to look a lot more appealing.”

Jake clicks to the next slide, which shows a breakdown of key issues that resonated most with young voters. "Climate change, affordable education, and social justice are their top priorities. They appreciate your strong stance on these issues, Steve, but they're still skeptical about whether you can actually deliver real change."

Steve nods, his expression thoughtful. "So how do we bridge that gap? How do we convince them that we're not just another set of empty promises?"

You lean forward slightly, your mind racing with ideas. This is an area where you feel you can contribute significantly, given your background in non-profit work and your ability to connect with younger generations.

"If I may," you begin, and all eyes turn to you. You feel a flutter of nervousness but push through it. "I think we need to focus on concrete, actionable plans. Not just broad strokes, but specific steps we'll take in the first 100 days. I think it would speak to Millennials as well.”

Jake nods appreciatively at your suggestion. "Mrs. Rogers, did you hack into my laptop sometime in the last 24 hours?” He’s not smiling - he never outright smiles - but he has a proud glint in his eyes as he looks at you. “What you’re suggesting is exactly in line with what I wanted to bring to the table today. We need to show them we're not just talking the talk, we’re ready to his the ground running when they put us in the White House."

Steve nods, his eyes meeting yours with interest. "Go on," he encourages.

You take a deep breath, feeling more confident. "We should consider hosting a series of town halls specifically targeting young voters. Not just to talk at them, but to listen. Let them voice their concerns directly and then demonstrate how our policies address those issues. We could even live-stream these events, make them interactive."

Jake looks intrigued. "That should work. It plays into our strengths - Steve's authenticity and your ability to connect with younger demographics."

"We could also leverage social media more effectively," you continue, warming to your topic. "Not just posting sound bites, but creating engaging content that breaks down complex issues in accessible ways. Maybe even collaborate with some respected influencers who align with our values."

Steve leans back in his chair, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I like it. What else?”

Elsa, communications director jumps in, "These are excellent strategies we can absolutely put into play, but we're still facing challenges with this demographic. Many of them feel disconnected from the political process entirely. They see you, Steve, as part of an older generation that doesn't understand their issues."

You watch Steve's reaction carefully. His jaw tightens slightly, but he nods, absorbing the information.

"What do you suggest?" Steve asks, his voice calm but tinged with frustration.

Elsa hesitates for a moment before responding. "We need to make you more relatable to younger voters. Show them that despite your... unique background, you understand and care about the issues that matter to them."

"And how do we do that?" Steve presses.

Jake glances your way before answering. "We think Mrs. Rogers could play a key role here."

You straighten in your seat, suddenly very alert. "Me?" you ask, trying to keep the surprise out of your voice.

“Yes,” he confirms. “We have a problem and an opportunity that’s developing. That 18 days comment last week heated things up again with the public perception and scrutiny of your marriage. You handled it exactly as you should have, Mrs. Rogers,” he assures you, “that’s not our concern. But now that someone has brought up numbers for days apart, it’s becoming part of the narrative, and we already had to tame concerns over your sudden nuptials, we don’t want the state of your marriage to be the focus again.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, and you can see out of the corner of your eye that Steve isn’t thrilled about this either.

“But the opportunity here,” Elsa jumps back in, “is that we can put that to rest and capitalize on what we’re beginning to see as the Mrs. Rogers effect on the campaign trail. Her approval ratings were never bad, but they keep climbing. The public still wonders if Steve is a politician, if he’s ready to be the next President, but they already see a politician’s wife in you, Mrs. Rogers.”

You feel a mix of pride and unease at Elsa's words. On one hand, it's gratifying to know your efforts are making a positive impact. On the other, you can't help but feel like you're being used as a prop.

Even though that is what you are at the most elementary level.

"What exactly are you proposing?" Steve asks, his tone careful but with an edge to it.

Jake leans forward, his expression earnest. "We want to increase the number of joint appearances you two make. Show the public that you're a united front, a team. Town halls, rallies, even some more casual, candid moments. Show the public that you're a team, that you support each other. It'll help soften Steve's image and make him more relatable to younger voters."

You glance at Steve, trying to gauge his reaction. His face is impassive, but there is a slight tension in his jaw.

You can see Steve is uncomfortable with the idea, but he's considering it carefully. You decide to speak up.

"I appreciate the strategy, but I have some concerns," you say. "We don't want to come across as inauthentic or like we're using our relationship as a political tool. That could backfire, especially with younger voters who are already skeptical of politicians and doing things for clout."

Jake nods, "You're right to be cautious. We're not suggesting anything overly staged or fake. Just more opportunities for the public to see you two together, interacting naturally."

Steve finally speaks up. "I agree with my wife," he says, and you feel a small, unexpected thrill at hearing him refer to you that way, even though you know it's just part of this gig. "We need to be careful about how we approach this. I don't want to exploit our relationship. But let’s make it work."

Jake wraps up the meeting quickly at that point, instructing his staff to update each candidate’s logistics team over the updated schedule that will play to the ‘Rogers & Rogers Strategy,’ and putting the policy advisors and communications team to work on implementing your suggestions into the direction they were going to propose. As every minute of the campaign season is instrumental, nearly everyone clears out of the room at that point.

You’re at the elevator in the lobby when you realize you left your jacket in the hotel conference room. Sophia says they can have an aide bring it up to your room, but you insist you’d like to stretch your legs a little more before heading up to sleep. As you head back down the hall, you’re relieved to see the door is still open, and you pick up your step. But then you come to an abrupt halt when you hear voices and your name drifts out into the hallway in a conversation between Steve, Sam, and Bucky.

“I don’t like it.”

“What a surprise! The anit-social, bionic man with a staring problem doesn’t like the idea of pal-ing around with the new Mrs. Rogers! Man, I know you only recently started to like me, but can you get on board with her.”

“Who says I like you?” he counters.

“Ha ha,” Sam retorts dryly. “You should be so lucky that next time we put you up for president so we could canvas the country for a girl who could put up with you and all your bullshit.”

Steve chuckles - something you realize you’ve rarely heard him do.

“But it’s you I’m surprised by, Steve,” Sam continues. “Why are you still holding this girl at arms’ length?”

Steve heaves a heavy sigh, and you can just imagine him putting his hands on his hips.

“You don’t even know, do you?” Sam presses him, his tone incredulous.

You hold your breath, straining to hear Steve's response. There's a long pause before he speaks.

"It's not that simple, Sam," Steve says, his voice low and weary. "This whole situation... it's complicated."

"Complicated how?" Sam presses. "She's smart, she's kind, she's dedicated to the cause. And let's be real, she's not hard on the eyes either. What's holding you back?"

You feel your cheeks flush at Sam's words, a mix of embarrassment and curiosity coursing through you.

"It's not about her," Steve says firmly. "She's... she's great. Better than I could have hoped for, honestly. But this whole arrangement, it just feels..."

"Fake?" Bucky offers, his voice gruff.

"No," Steve says quickly. "Not fake. Just... I don't know. Forced. This whole situation - it's not the same as the tour for war bonds back in ‘43, but it’s still a production. I never imagined being in a situation like this again."

"None of us imagined this, Steve," Bucky chimes in, his tone softer than before.

Steve sighs again. “And I know it’s another thing I’ve chosen that neither of you signed up for, and I appreciate you being here by my side.”

"And she's here now, too,” Sam circles back to you, “and she's trying. You can't keep pushing her away."

"I'm not pushing her away," Steve protests, but it sounds weak even to your ears.

"Really?" Sam challenges. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you're doing enough to conveniently keep your distance. She's your wife, Steve. On paper, sure, but she's also becoming a real partner in this campaign. You've seen how she handles herself out there."

You lean against the wall, your heart racing as you listen to the conversation. You know you shouldn't be eavesdropping, but you can't bring yourself to walk away, not when - even if you’re not involved - someone is finally talking about the state of your marriage.

"I know," Steve says, his voice tinged with frustration. "I see it. She's incredible out there. The way she connects with people, the way she articulates our message, she’s all in and she's a natural."

"So what's the problem?" Sam presses.

"If I let her in and this doesn't work out..."

"You mean the campaign?" Sam asks.

"No," Steve says.

And then - because of course it’s that exact moment - a door just a bit further down the opens, and you have to pretend you were not just standing in the hallway eavesdropping on anyone, and you abandon jacket retrieval and pretend you were on your way to the hotel bar to catch a quick nightcap with some of the staffers.

[SEPTEMBER 8 - Airspace over Ohio]

The next morning, it’s wheels up at 7am for the presidential candidate campaign plane, and you’re on it. You’re being sent with Steve to Wisconsin.

As the plane climbs to cruising altitude, you stifle a yawn and make your way to the "war room" - a section of the campaign plane that serves as a mobile strategy center and occasional dining area. The smell of coffee and pastries wafts through the air, a tempting lure after the early morning rush.

Sophia’s intern had already supplied you with your go-to morning drink, but you grab a plate and fill it with some fruit, cheese, bacon, and a surprisingly and delightfully warm croissant. The plane's engines hum steadily as you settle into one of the seats at the table. The early morning sunlight streams through the small windows, casting a warm glow over the polished wood table. You've barely slept, your mind still reeling from the conversation you overheard last night.

You pull out your tablet, intending to review the day's revised schedule, but your thoughts keep drifting back to Steve's words. The weight of them sits heavy in your chest, a mix of disappointment and something else you can't quite name.

You're so lost in your thoughts that you don't notice someone approaching until they clear their throat. You look up, expecting to see Sophia or maybe one of the campaign staffers. Instead, you find yourself faced with Bucky Barnes.

"Morning," he says, his voice gruff but not unfriendly. "Mind if I join you?"

You blink, momentarily thrown off balance. In all the months of campaigning, you've barely exchanged more than a few pleasantries.

"Of course," you say, gesturing to the seat across from you.

Bucky nods and takes a seat, setting down his own plate of food. There's an awkward silence as he settles in, and you can't help but study him. His hair is short again - the style he’d adopted when he was pardoned not long after the Snap. He's dressed casually in jeans and a dark henley. Despite his relaxed appearance, there's an undeniable intensity about him, a coiled energy that seems barely contained.

"So," Bucky says, breaking the silence. "Wisconsin."

You nod, grateful for the opening. "Yes, big day ahead. Are you joining us for the rally?"

Bucky shakes his head. "I’ll be backstage, but no."

Another silence falls between you, but it feels almost companionable, and the two of you enjoy your breakfast. Usually people try to fill any potentially silent moment around you these days, and so the reprieve itself is nice, but it doesn’t last long. Soon you’re joined by some of the staff - some seeking breakfast, some looking for you or for Bucky. And so the next wave of action for the day begins.

next part: HOUSTON

I KNOW! WE JUMPED FROM THE DAY BEFORE THE WEDDING TO THE BEGINNING OF SEPTEMBER! But that's by design.

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[llamaisllama777]

... Oh, they better fix this soon, or it's gonna be a VERY sad Thanksgiving and Christmas!

Seriously, tho....thing are BAD right now, and I have a few possibilities/predictions for Earth and Luanr and what could happen next...

Earth predictions

1. Earth is left numb by the dark lighting.

Much like how Monty lost all feelings in his right??? Arm after fighting The Stitchwraith Earth will now have that same problem but all over her body cause that lightning spread everywhere! Leaving her in a lot of pain and then feeling numb for who knows how long?! I think for Monty, it lasted five months? So, Earth will be like this for the next five months... fun.

2. Earth is corrupted by the negative star power!

Turuas and Rez have mentioned it is possible to become corrupted by negative star power, and if there was an awful lot of negative star power, there. We've seen what happens to things that get corrupted by dark star power. (Dazzle's old body, those dark star creatures, and Nexus)

Earth will slowly become corrupted by the negative star power floating in her systems and turn into a corrupted!Earth! The Astrals will try to kill Earth while Sun, Moon, Solar, Monty, and Lunar (and possibly Eclipse) will try to save Earth and find a way to uncorrupt her, and they will hopefully succeed in saving her.

3. Earth dies!

Yes, you read that right! Earth dies! Earth's body will succumb to the corruption and die. Earth will die, and Lunar, Monty, and the whole family will be absolutely destroyed. Lunar will feel like a monster, Sun will have lost the only other sibling who cared for him and the one who made him realize he's not a bad person and that he does matter, Monty will lose the love of his life and might become the destroyer of worlds like how Golden Freddy said he would if Monty didn't meet the right people, Solar and Moon will have lost the sister they just gained, and Eclipse will have lost his first friend... needless to say, this is the WORST outcome! Lunar would go into hiding, Eclipse, Solar, Moon (And maybe Monty if he doesn't fall into a deep depression) will hunt down Lunar with the Astrals while Sun falls back into his deep depression and this may lead to Dark Sun offering Sun some kinda deal but who knows. Lunar will either be pushed into the hands of Rez and Cetus or will deny them and go into hiding or fight against them like some kind of Rouge star!Lunar.

4. Earth will be fine in like a day or two.

So, remember how Monty said he would go and remake that small red box that F.C. has in his chest and use it to protect them from all the dark star power entities... well, that box can absorb negative star power, and he'll use it on Earth and instantly heal her. (Or the Astrals will purify Earth's body, and she will be fine)

But even though she'll be healed, mentally, she'll be scarred. She almost got killed by one brother, and now she almost got killed again by another one of her brothers. She would be DONE!

She tried to be nice, she tried to be friendly and do the right thing but here we are! She would either leave and stay with Monty forever and rarely visit them or Alternatively leave and go on vacation to get away from them all but her dad will probably come and kidnap her or convince her to come back with him cause she just got backstabbed again by another family member! Whether she'd go with him or tell him to get lost and get kidnapped I don't know? We'll have to see.

Lunar predictions

1. Lunar will go into hiding, i.e... skip town(leave this dimension)

Lunar having just injured the person who cared about him the most and helped him get back on the right track mentally in the very first episode of LAES, Lunar now being hunted by The Astrals, The Dark Astrals, having ruined his relationship with his sister and Gemini he will leave this dimension and go to Eclipse and Puppet's dimension and Lunar will be forced to confront his hatred on Eclipse and the two will probably fight for a bit before coming to some kinda of closure probably with Eclipse apologizing for all the abuse he put Lunar through and Lunar will finally be able to move on and accept what happen and be able to continue his positive training and hopefully make amens with everyone... (If Earth isn't dead)

2. Lunar will become a Dark Astral (reluctantly)

These powers were meant to help Lunar, and now they just hurt his sister! Lunar will be done with all this star power poo and Dark star power poo! But Rez will show up and convince Lunar he's already messed up so much and Earth and the others will probably never want to see him ever again and Lunar at his lowest will believe him and leave to become Dark!Lunar (Think Anikian Skywalker and Emperor Palpatine sort of deal) and it will take maybe months before Lunar sees them all again and he'll be (reluctantly) evil and will be all sad and bad until someone (Maybe Earth, Gemini, or Eclipse) will convince Lunar to come back to the side of light and Lunar will betray Rez and help take him and Cetus down!

3. Lunar will go into hiding... with Gemini!

Turuas is now coming to kill Lunar cause he will see Lunar as a threat (fair, sadly). Gemini will probably try to smooth things over, but Turuas won't listen, and Lunar and Turuas will fight, Turuas will try to kill Lunar, and right before he does Gemini will step in and save him. The two would go into hiding to avoid The Astrals and The Dark Astrals. Now, don't think Gemini will do this out of love they're doing this to save him. Any love for him is out the window! They're only doing this cause they want to save Lunar and try to understand why he did. Not cause they love him! That's out the window right now!

Lunar and Gemini will work together to figure things out and hopefully help Earth (if she's corrupted or dead, and they'll try to purify her or resurrect her.) And try to defeat Cetus, Rez and try to protect themselves (and maybe Earth) from the Astrals.

That's all I think could happen. Let me know what you all think/what you think will happen, but no matter what happens...

It's gonna be a very very sad Thanksgiving and Christmas this year.

Lunar and Earth's relationship may never be the same.

Kat, Davis, Reed, please... DO NOT KILL EARTH!

I WILL BE SO SAD IF YOU DO!

[piscodemon]

MAN we had the last session of a mini-campaign my friend homebrewed tonight and like. I cried no less than 4 times. My PC wrote down the partys journey of them saving all these people from all over the continent (?) But. Because of the transient nature of dreams, people began to forget, and her story was widely regarded as fiction. 🥲 she's a mercenary and writer now. From squishy wizard/Artificer to Merc is a funny pipeline but when your teacher forgets you because you had to give up an important part of yourself and you lose all sense of who you are, what are you to do? You can't go back to that life when there's nothing to go back to.

[reshinless]

──── day 2: dnd on the hotel door.

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ synopsis. wherein your friends give him.. more than just suggestive photos at your wedding. (you had a private boudoir photoshoot prior to it!)

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ pairings. kinich, neuvillette, zhongli, tartaglia, capitano x gn!afab!reader. !!NSFW/SUGGESTIVE CONTENT!!

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ director's notice. saw a cute tt of this exact topic (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠) will do diff characters next week!

kinich who'd already been so nervous for whatever was to come on this day; he was always more than willing. he knew the first laugh you both shared. the first kiss you both partook in, not everyone he's kissed had such a long-lasting impact on him, that's if he ever kissed anyone at all (that wasn't you.)

it wasn't all that special he said, but everything you've ever wanted in a wedding was there. he remembered what flowers you'd always pluck from the grounds you traveled on. or the colors that always had your eyebrow twitching just hearing the first letter of the pigment's name.

the venue wasn't necessarily small either, borrowing whatever he could in his homeland to make it perfect, even going as far as to asking others for help on what to embellish the locale in.

for as long as you've known him- kinich wasn't much of a romantic. letting you take the lead instead, switching up occasionally by spooning you alternatively. but you remembered he'd always laid his head atop your chest, from the nightmares of his own past, and regrets; he found peace in listening to your heartbeat, and feeling your torso heave slowly.

he wanted to make you feel special today & tonight. so he wants to do it right at least. he tried to fluster you in a way that you'd be surprised, aware he wasn't very amorous.

or at least that's what was in his point of view because you had a whole other plan ready for him. but you didn't know about the surprises he'd throw either.

the whole theme of the wedding was based on his tribe, encased with traces of your own home/favorite colors.

but something that you'd see as a surprise this afternoon was kinich's suit. it wasn't the usual black suit and tie. no- he wore.. your initial around his neck, and his tie was the color of your eyes.

you felt your eyes water a little, walking down the aisle, your arm entangled with the guardian who's been with you since day one. (or whoever you'd like!)

after the classic bouquet toss, and squealings later. you told your newly-wed husband your bridesmaids had a surprise for him. he didn't think much of it; meeting them before, they seemed nice enough. (one of them is mualani btw :3)

mualani who stands beside kinich briefly for the picture, she hands him a polaroid photo from the photographer's kamera. "what is-" he gets cut off, his face turning to playfully sour until it slowly changes to his usual stoic behavior (he doesn't know his face is turning redder by the second)

"you.. hmm." he awkwardly nodded after another picture was taken of his reaction, cheeks aflame; the picture was still so clear in his mind. now it couldn't get out!

the mental image of your body in frilly lace/in nothing but a blanket over you, a simple layer of clothing that stopped him from seeing your bare body- fuck he could feel himself get hard already.

and the more time that passed, progressing with each photo being taken, the worse his boner got. shit he can't believe you're his. and he's damn well lucky to have you.

even as he stood idly, talking to some of the guests, some more of the bridesmaids came up to him, handing him more scenes for him to visualize in his head.

"ahh.. may i excuse myself from this conversation?" he politely bows and walks away to where you were. the eventide's stellar in the sky definitely wasn't shining each time he saw you. oh there it is- that laugh he always loved and fell in love with again each time he heard it.

"pretty.. ahh.. there's something i.. need help with."

kinich who's already in your newly bought home, hurriedly stripping you of your clothes, ready to devour you and eat your cunt out to his content.

kinich who could only palm his erection, as his mouth latched onto your wetness was already waiting for him. your taste, how it smelled, how your slit was already so wet for him- you knew what you were doing. and it worked really damn well.

neuvillette who was already nervous, throughout the proposal, even you relationship before being fiancees, I mean, it was you, why wouldn't he be worried? he was ready to jump off a cliff if anything went wrong if he'd tell the truth, but he'd never say that.

neuvillette who sighed with relief, the days of worrying that something bad might happen to you on your special day with him. taking pictures with the bridesmaids for the wedding's little picture book for you to look back on soon, and maybe even for your kids to look at and call you both corny for.

neuvillette who suddenly received 3 photo frames from 3 of your bridesmaids, confused as he took a look at it, he could only feel the rush of warmth crawling up from his neck to his ears. his horns grew the more he looked into the photos.

"w- where did you get this?" he observed the room shyly, looking for any signs of you, why? to help him out with 'something' of course. no one could take care of it better than you did.

they simply shrugged and walked away, whispering and chuckling to each other. awkwardly walking to find you, pulling you to the side, inside one of the venue's main buildings, bringing you into one of the bedrooms.

"you didn't need to tease me like this." you were pinned to the bed once the wedding ended. the painful boner you had caused hadn't gone away, even now, throbbing, missing where it's supposed to be (inside you)

ripping your wedding dress off your body (not really, just making sure you get out of it without ruining it), he couldn't wait to fill you with his seed. he wanted to see personally if you could take all of him in. he could only caress the very rim of your hole, teasing you with his fingers before he would finally split you apart with his cock.

from the amount of time, he's been alive, his stamina would be unmatched, so it'd be entirely up to you for how long you wanna do this :)

it felt as if he was such a meanie, but his words were different- praising you, and gently holding your wrists in place. it didn't quite match the pace of his cock drilling itself inside you though, it felt deep, and it looked as if the night has barely even started. oh well.

zhongli had never thought of the idea of marriage until he overheard you speaking about it with a few of your friends. it wasn't you necessarily hoping he'd propose, but you were the only one within the group of four to have not been married yet!

he knows you'd never leave him for another, but adding a ring to your pretty little hand definitely would tell all the other men and women alike who try to hit on you to say everything for him.

the wedding was more than just a delight, it was planned to the very smallest of details. it was beautiful, even on a budget of somewhat a lot but not too much; it made sure to shine brighter than most of the stars that night.

before he could sweep you into his arms, and take you upstairs into the home you both chose out before the wedding; some of your bridesmaids, along with your maid of honor had handed him a book.

they said nothing but laughed and walked away to the food section, looking through the book and oh wow.

he hadn't learned what a boudoir was but he definitely enjoyed what he was seeing now. flipping through the pages, staying to the side so no one else could see what was happening. he'll have to ask you about that lingerie set later, white definitely complimented you..

"s'dirty.. you tease me like this, even on our special day? mmmf.." you sat down on his cock, as he showed you off in the mirror. the same lingerie set you wore in the photo book was already ripped off your body, and on the floor. geo marks that scattered, covering most of his arms caressed your thighs that trembled.

his strong arm ran over your body, carefully exploring every inch of you that he could. the thought of being legally, and weddedingly(?) yours. you have his last name now.

he could only imagine how much more pleasure he'd want to give you throughout tonight. he could only praise you for taking him so well, watching you try and use his cock for your own, but he's too big :(.

tartaglia who introduced you with pride to his family after proposing. but watching you treat his little sister and brother so well.. oh he had to get you pregnant.

but for now, he'd put those thoughts to the side, and enjoy his and your special day, no lust, just love.

you had other plans though. and he wasn't gonna complain.

a couple of your bridesmaids took pictures with him for the futurity of the book of photos for his siblings to look through as well. but after each photo, they all handed him Polaroids.

"what's this?" he looked at them confusedly, but all they did was "just look at it!" "you won't regret it!" and boy he sure did not!!! ssshit just covered in a blanket, no nothing underneath? you wanna get fucked tonight?

he pushed you against the wall of the master bedroom. "mmm.. w'na try to get me hard like that again in public, and I'm gonna do a looott worse than tonight, baby."

the ring on your finger he saw as your hand held onto the wall while he stripped you- he couldn't help but let out a loud as hellll groan. even when he held you down to the bed, he made sure to kiss the jewelry on your finger that meant you're his for life.

while you ride him, his eyes are always on the necklace that has his initials on it, watching it bounce up and down on your chest. for the longest time; he was foreign to the idea of even a relationship, let alone getting to marry someone. but he was gonna make sure you'll feel what he couldn't express throughout time.

when he's soo obsessed with nutting inside you, he holds your hips down onto his, making sure not a drop will be wasted. he could already imagine what your kids with him would look like.

capitano who preferred a more quiet wedding. one between simple friends, and I guess co-workers (he was against it but you invited them anyway.)

so in this sense, columbina, arlecchino, and signora had agreed to accompany you as your bridesmaids. tsaritsa also agreed to bless your wedding (because she agrees that you are strong, mentally, and physically, and give capitano something to look forward to, unlike before.)

i guess the others attended (most attended just to say congrats and leave, pierro was best man)

accompanying you down to a glass garden house nearby the venue you chose out, but before he could proceed, your three bridesmaids stopped him. cheeky smiles on signora, and columbina's lips- arlecchino handed him a book.

"they want you to have this." the fourth harbinger states, leaving with the two ladies simply giggling and walking off, opposite sides of arlecchino.

he questioningly opened the book while about to walk back to you but oh. wow.

as he catches up to you, he's still a bit flustered, but quickly composed himself once more. "are.. you trying to tease me, kitten?"

and as much as he hasn't had any experience in a long while, oh boy is he ready to find out if he still got it or not

but capitano never knew he'd be so turned on to think about what real married life had to offer.. like kids. he knew he couldn't necessarily have them since he's a harbinger, but a man can dream, right?

anyways he's already pulling your hair from behind, while he has you doggy style on the mattress. I don't know cause I get the feeling he would.

a tight hold onto the strands of your hair. "fffuck.. this is what you get for looking so fuckin' hot.." he groans.

even so when he isn't fucking your pussy with sloppy thrusts from behind- he's fingering you with his long fingers that make you go wild.

he does take note that his fingers are pretty long, so he's pretty careful when it comes down to that.

you sitting on his lap while he admires you in the mirror, watching how you reacted to simply him adding another digit inside your hole, as another hand held onto your left hand, caressing the ring that binded you to him. he couldn't be happier!

[appocalipse]

that guy ⊹ steve harrington

summary: After he's been to yet another failed date with yet another random pretty girl, Steve Harrington, your best friend, stops by at the diner your family owns for a late-night chat, same as he'd done a thousand times before. Steve is totally unaware of how much he's hurting you with his endless parade of dates, because after all — the two of you are only friends and nothing more, right? It's not like you have any secret feelings for him… | 2.6k words

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

The moment Steve steps through the glass doors of the diner, you wonder, for about the millionth time that month alone, what is it that you've done so wrong to deserve this kind of punishment.

It's Friday night, and on Friday nights, Steve Harrington goes on dates. It's just like clockwork, really: he meets a pretty girl, thinks she's the one, takes her out on a date, realizes quickly enough that she isn't quite what he was looking for, then comes here after having dropped her back home to sulk with you, in the diner that your family runs, still clad in the outfit he'd chosen especially for his failed date.

To be honest, he never looks sad, per se — more like disappointed. Frustrated, maybe.

You watch as he weaves around tables occupied by laughing friends, past booths filled with couples sharing desserts, then slides into a seat in front of you at the bar. Steve sits down with an exhausted sigh, ruffling up his hair before shooting you a tired smile.

"Hi."

You don't look up from where you're polishing the counter. "Bad date again?"

"Not even close. She talked about horses non-stop."

A quiet laugh slips past your lips despite yourself, and finally, you tear your gaze off the dark wooden surface of the counter to look up at him; he's got this pleased little smile on his face, the corners of his eyes crinkled ever so slightly in the way they always do whenever he succeeds at making you laugh, even if just a little.

How are you supposed to keep acting like nothing's wrong when he looks at you like that?

You clear your throat awkwardly and make yourself busy stacking clean glasses next to the coffee machine.

"So...not the one, I take it?"

Steve leans forward against the counter and props his head up with his hand, sighing deeply.

"I'm starting to think she won't ever show up," he says quietly, running his other hand through his hair. You chance another glance at him and note how genuinely worried he looks. It breaks your heart almost as much as it annoys you. "What is it that's wrong with me, huh? I just don't get it."

"Nothing is wrong with you."

"You don't need to be nice to me. We've been friends since forever, remember?"

The word 'friends' makes you wince a little bit inside, but you hide the reaction behind a neutral frown. "Do you think there's something wrong with me? Because I haven't found the one yet either, you know."

Steve's expression softens as he looks at you, and once again you feel that horrible twinge in your stomach that you wish would just stop already.

"It's different. I mean—you're not actively trying to find someone." He reaches out to pull one of the half-melted mints out from the glass bowl on the counter and pops it into his mouth with a shrug. "I go out looking for her and she just doesn't come. If she even exists, that is."

"She does."

"Well, thanks for the vote of confidence, but I wouldn't hold my breath. God, why am I such an idiot, y'know?" Steve slumps over the counter with a groan, burying his face into his crossed arms. "My love life is a trainwreck."

"At least you have one."

He glances up at you curiously and lifts an eyebrow. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing. Forget it. Do you want some pie?"

You're not about to tell him what you've only admitted to yourself mere months ago — that you're actually hopelessly, madly, stupidly in love with him, and that you have been ever since the two of you were just dumb kids racing around your parents' diner.

What makes it even worse is that you had no idea your feelings went that deep until Steve started going on these dates of his again. Before then, everything was normal — you met up every weekend and binged on candy, watched bad movies on your couch, drove around town together blasting The Clash on his BMW's speakers...it was good.

Until it wasn't.

"Wait, c'mon, you can't just leave me hanging like that," Steve presses. He shifts a little on his stool to better face you, then gestures at you with his hands. "You've clearly got something you wanna say, so, like—hit me. Lay it on me."

"Nothing. I'm just saying...at least you're trying, you know," you say carefully, measuring each word before speaking them. "And at least you're the one doing the rejecting. Could be worse."

Steve's eyebrows rise high up on his forehead and he looks at you incredulously. "Whoa, wait—are you trying to tell me you've been rejected?"

You busy yourself by filling two tall glasses with soda, then slide one to his side of the counter and keep the other for yourself. "Uh...kind of, yeah. But it's fine."

"But who the hell would even do that?" he blurts out. There's anger in his voice all of a sudden, a defensive fire in his eyes that makes you feel as if someone has punched you in the gut. "To you? You're like, the nicest person on the planet, and super pretty to boot. That's just—that's crazy!"

Your heart gives a violent little jump in your chest. He thinks you're pretty. Steve Harrington thinks you're pretty.

Pretty as a friend, you correct yourself immediately, and sigh as you sip your drink. Of course, it's nothing more than that — just meaningless words spoken in a moment of unthinking kindness.

"Seriously, who?" he presses on. "Give me a name. I'll fight him."

"You mean like you fought Jonathan Byers?" you smile behind your glass, looking at him from over its rim.

Steve looks embarrassed at the memory and drops his gaze for a second or two before meeting your eyes again with a playful little smile of his own. "Different situation, okay, but that's not the point. So? Who's the guy?"

"You...don't know him," you hedge.

"It's Hawkins. I know the stray cats here by name."

"Fine, well, even if you did know him, it doesn't matter. He didn't reject me, exactly...not really."

Steve frowns a little. "Okay, you're gonna have to start making sense now. This is hurting my head."

The funny thing is, he actually looks confused, as if he can't possibly fathom the idea of someone rejecting you. It's sweet, really — way too sweet for your liking, especially when you know fully well he doesn't see you in the way you'd want him to.

You lower your gaze to avoid his and instead focus on drawing random shapes on the counter with your index finger, where tiny droplets of condensation from your glass have pooled up on the dark wood. "I mean, I never really told him how I felt. Not directly. It just…never happened."

"Oh. Well, then how do you even know if he feels the same way?" he asks you, looking rather doubtful.

You steal another glance at him and almost regret it instantly. His eyes are trained on your face, patient and attentive like you're the only thing worth watching in the world. It makes you feel horribly small and selfish and guilty, because after all, what right do you have to want him when he so clearly wants someone else?

You feel like you could cry. You might, if you don't distract yourself with something fast enough.

"I just know. Do you want some pie? I'll go get you some pie."

Without waiting for a response, you rush off to the kitchen even though there's plenty of pies sitting on the display counter at the bar, and you make a beeline straight for the back exit.

The alley behind the diner is blissfully empty as usual, just a lonely dumpster and a handful of sad-looking shrubs and weeds peeking out from under the concrete.

No, you aren't going to cry.

This is stupid.

You press your back against the rough brick wall of the diner and breathe in deep the warm night air, then exhale slowly as you count to ten in your head.

When the door opens behind you and the diner's familiar chatter and clatter of cutlery spill into the alley, you wince, mentally cursing yourself for being so goddamn weak. You should have known better.

You don't have to look up to know that it's him.

"Are you hiding from me?" Steve's voice comes, quiet and curious and maybe just a little bit hurt, even.

"I got...suddenly nauseous," you explain weakly, still refusing to look up and meet his eyes.

There's a long stretch of silence, and you feel Steve move closer to you until he's leaning against the wall by your side. You finally look up and find him smiling, this gentle, amused little thing that makes your traitorous heart skip a beat.

"You look just fine to me."

You stare up at the sky, head against the wall. "I thought I was gonna throw up."

He's still watching you, you can tell; you're keenly aware of his eyes on you, so much so that your skin prickles at the attention. "No, you didn't."

"No, I didn't," you admit with a sigh, and turn your head to finally look at him. He's got this little half-smile on his lips, the very same one you fell for years ago, and you curse yourself silently for never learning how to let him go. Really let him go.

"Hey. Listen. You don't have to tell me, okay?" Steve says gently, pushing himself off the wall to step closer to you. He brings his hand up to your face and tucks a loose lock of hair behind your ear, letting his fingertips linger on the edge of your jaw for the briefest of moments, just long enough for you to wonder whether he knows what he's doing to you.

You don't dare to move. You're afraid of breaking whatever spell has seemingly come over him.

"I should've never asked. That was selfish."

"Forget it," you say.

He's standing close now, close enough that you have to tilt your chin up to be able to look up at him properly. There's a strange kind of tension in his eyes, something dark and unsure and tentative, and his gaze darts down to your lips just the slightest bit.

You're fairly sure you're just seeing what you want to see, your foolish heart playing tricks on you. But you panic nonetheless, feeling a sudden, irrational fear that if he moves any closer, he'll realize the truth — that you're a liar and a coward, that you've been harboring these feelings of yours for him for years.

"I should—I should go. Back inside," you mutter, pointing vaguely at the door with your thumb. "In there."

"Sure, yeah. Okay. In there," he echoes, not making a single move to leave. "Not out here."

"Yup. Exactly. In there."

"So you said."

"Yep."

The wall of the diner is digging into your spine uncomfortably, and your mouth is dry, and your knees feel weak, and your stomach is doing somersaults, and the longer he stares at you with those eyes of his the more you feel like you're burning from the inside out and—

He's not moving. All he does is look at you, really look at you, as if it's the first time he's really looked, as if he's seeing something that wasn't there before.

"Okay, so—"

You try to push past him towards the door, but Steve grabs your arm, making you stop dead in your tracks. He lets go as soon as you look up at him, lifting his hand in front of him in an apologetic gesture.

"Sorry. I'm sorry," he says. He swallows hard and rubs his palm on the front of his jeans, a nervous little habit you think he's always had. He runs his hand through his hair, mussing up the carefully gelled strands, and it's probably the first time you've ever seen him look so flustered.

He laughs nervously and gestures at the ground with his hands as he speaks. "Look, this is just—this is just crazy, okay, but I think I, uh, maybe sort of realized something."

You blink at him, not quite certain you're hearing him correctly.

"Realized what?" you ask, the words barely more than a whisper.

Steve clears his throat and nods at you, seemingly pleased that you've finally spoken. "Yeah, well, this is stupid, but you know how you're always telling me to listen to my gut?"

"You're not making a whole lot of sense right now, Steve."

"Just bear with me for a sec, okay? This is like, totally new to me." He holds his palms up, and you notice his hands are shaking a little. "I just need a minute, alright?"

He breathes in deep and exhales slowly, then shoots you an apologetic look.

"Sorry, this is just...really weird," he confesses. "Weirdly real."

"You're freaking me out," you tell him, but Steve only smiles at you.

"Maybe I should just show you. Because, I mean, what if I'm wrong? That'd be terrible, obviously."

"Steve."

"Yeah, I know, but hear me out, okay?" he says quickly, and takes another step closer. You stand your ground this time, if only because you don't trust yourself to actually move without your legs giving out. "So, look. Here's the thing. You're, like—you're one of the most important people in my life. You've been there for me when nobody else was, and I...you mean a lot to me."

"Steve—"

"Shut up, you're ruining the moment."

He takes another step forward until he's crowding you against the wall, hand coming to rest next to your head on the brick. He's close, so close that you can smell the scent of his cologne and shampoo and laundry detergent, and if you were to lean in even the slightest bit, your faces would bump.

Steve is a little out of breath, his lips parted ever so slightly. And he's still looking at you with that strange, searching expression of his.

"Is this okay?" he whispers.

"I don't—what?"

Your voice catches in your throat. There's no room for doubt in his eyes now, not even the tiniest, slightest sliver of uncertainty left.

"This," Steve murmurs.

He tilts his head to the side a little and leans in until you're sure your noses are touching, and you feel your eyes slip closed in anticipation.

"Is this okay?" he repeats in a whisper. "Please tell me I'm not crazy."

"I think I am."

His lips brush yours. It feels like an accident, doesn't last long enough to be anything but a dream. You can still taste the faint, sweet trace of sugar and mint on your tongue when he pulls away, though.

"Just to be clear," Steve whispers, his fingers brushing lightly over the skin of your neck, tracing invisible lines that make you shiver, "am I the guy from earlier? The one you like?"

You don't have it in you to deny it anymore.

"Yes. It's you."

A wide grin breaks out across his face, and suddenly he's everywhere; he cups your face in his hands, pressing eager, fervent kisses along the line of your jaw, trailing hot and open-mouthed down the side of your neck.

You giggle helplessly, grabbing Steve by his collar to pull him away from you and up to your eye level. He's breathing just as heavily as you are, his hair messy and his eyes bright.

"How do you do this to me, huh?" he pants, kissing your forehead, the tip of your nose, the corner of your mouth. "You just—you just completely knock me out."

A pleasant little thrill rushes up your spine at that.

"Oh yeah?"

"Completely."

You kiss him this time.

[luveline]

that spencer x bombshell one you just posted has me giggling and kicking my feet I think I’m in love with YOU 🫵

Now I’m thinking of spencer x bombshell where the team starts to not view reid as unwillingly tortured by her flirting. Like maybe Morgan makes a comment to reid about something he does and is like “don’t torture the poor girl” and he’s like oh shit I’M the one torturing too now?

im in love with YOU !! for you, ty for requesting ♡ fem

“Difficult,” you say, resting your head on the table. 

“I know.” Spencer wiggles his pen back and forth between two fingers, thinking hard. This case is proving to be indecipherable. None of the details want to add up, and no clear profile geographical or otherwise appears. 

“Useless.” 

“Who, me or you?” 

“Us.” You sigh morosely. “Mostly me.” 

You're not being serious. Spencer huffs a soft laugh and continues to turn the details over in his head. You open your notebook and scratch down a couple of sentences with a pen, a visual thinker. Your mind map turns to a second iteration and then a third. You can't connect the dots because they're too far apart from each other; Spencer can't do it either. Not alone. 

He scoots his chair as close to yours as possible, your knees touching, his elbow in your side. “Can I look?” he asks. 

“Of course you can. Sorry about my handwriting.” 

He shakes his head. Your handwriting is perhaps the only thing about you he wouldn't say was one hundred percent perfect. You can't control it like other things. It is perfect, in a way, because it's yours, but you've been writing quickly and he struggles to make out the occasional letter. 

He leans in toward the page. “What's this word?” he asks. 

You lean in to see it. “Coruscated.” 

“The swimming pool?” he asks, lifting his face to yours. You're closer now, and beautiful like this. He can see the powder under your eyes, the lines in your irises, the slight fading of your lipstick at the corners of your mouth. There's an eyelash on your cheek. He lifts a hand to wipe it away. “What's so important about that?” 

“It reminded me of something…” You pause as he touches your face. “Something…” Your voice lilts up in question, half-shudder. 

“Eyelash,” he explains, blowing it off of his finger. 

“Right,” you say, eyes oddly wide and soft at once, your eyebrows lifted at the starts. 

“You okay?” 

“Is she okay? Reid, you're torturing the poor girl. Give her some air,” Morgan says with a chuckle. 

Spencer leans backwards in surprise, no idea what Morgan could possibly mean. Your eyes relax as you regain some personal space, your hands coming together loosely in your lap. You laugh weakly. 

Spencer looks you up and down. He's torturing you? That doesn't make sense. For as long as you've known one another, the team has joked that your flirty ways and feminine wiles are too much for Spencer to handle. You once gave him an apology he didn't want, worried you actually were hurting him by being your playful self, and he'd set that straight immediately. You don't torture him. It's a lot of feelings to be doted on so much by you, and painful isn't one of them. Overwhelming, sometimes, and exciting, sure. 

He never realised he had the power to overwhelm you. Not until that moment. You offer a funny smile far from your usual smirk and try to steamroll Morgan's claim. “Guess I should've made a wish.” 

“What would you wish for?” Spencer asks quietly. 

You still. Morgan shakes his head in disapproval, but he laughs again and stands up. “I think they'd call that a taste of your own medicine, sweetheart,” he says to you. 

You meet Spencer's eye. “I think they would,” you say bashfully. 

For three blissful seconds, Spencer enjoys the reality of having made you flustered. You, gorgeous, confident you, left flushed and a little daunted by his casual actions and simple (maybe slightly flirtatious) questioning. But then he remembers how much he likes you and pushes it away. 

“Sorry,” he says, plastering a smile over uncertain lips, “I didn't mean to do that.” 

“No, it's okay.” 

He turns to your notes, but gives you a look from the side. “I hope you wished for someone to solve the case. We're never getting anywhere like this.” 

“Are you saying you can't?” You rest your chin in your hand. “And here I thought you were more than a pretty face.” 

You have a quick recovery rate, evidently. 

[r3ynah]

Married in the past, married in the present

To think that the Amity Trio would get dragged by their children (Dan and Dani) into another universe as a form of vacation and to escape the annoying palace councils, was not something to be expected in the Fenton-Nightangle-Foley-Manson family. it was due for a vacation anyways.

But here's the catch, They decided they should atleast take a two month break with each other so they can explore this universe more, but they did agree that every 2 weeks they'll pass the custody of their kids with each other.

It was very eventful to say the least,

Tucker, got adopted. by the one and only Bruce Wayne how?? he doesn't know either, the only thing he can remember was Bruce Wayne shoving a couple of adoption papers in his face, and now he was suddenly a Wayne, he certainly was not complaining he gets to use their advance technologies without it getting corrupted by his partner Danny(he loved the guy, but he needed his daily screen time too.)

He finds out about their secret identities two days in, was not completely surprised to find a cave downstairs, "Every billionare has one, you're not unique." was his words before he went on and explore the cave leaving a very confused batfam. he agreed to help them but if its only for hacking and stuff connected to technology, and to only join them if it's really a life changing scenario.

He was the second one to have Dan and Dani, so when they found out they're dad got adopted by a rich billionaire they were equally disappointed, Tucker tried to defend himself for his poor decision, to say the batfam was shocked once again was an understatement, imagine finding that their new brother had two children and two partners was lnot part of their new years plan. Dan and Dani only took a couple of hours for them to fit in.

Sam, went on and became a vigilante, under Harley Quinn and poison ivy's care, with almost the same powers as Ivy and same humor as Harley the three of them certainly became close friends.

Sam definitely had fun blowing up factories, and proceed to prank cops and officials, she had a run with the infamous batfam a couple of times, mostly Robin, the first time they've met they had a spar with their own weapons ofcourse,but at the same time all Sam could think was: 'the hell's a kid doing vigilante work?'. Eventually they have bonded over different weapons and fighting styles, Batman had atleast tried to recruit Sam who goes by Foliahàrà at some point, but was turned down quite harshly.

She was the first one to take care of their children, Ivy loved Dan's brutality and Harley adored Dani's chaotic self. so they became the fun cool aunts of the two children, they have somepoint asked one peaceful breakfast who the other parents are, But the only thing Sam had said was they'll meet them someday.

Danny becomes a villain, a mad scientist to be exact wondering what'll happen if he follows in his parents footsteps, he also works alongside with Mr.Freeze, and they discuss a cure together for Mr.Freeze's wife,.

He doesn't use his ghost powers in villainy his explanation? Phantom was for the good and peace. While Fenton-Nightangle was for the bad and destruction. it certainly was a shitshow when he first debuted, lets just say Gotham had an early snow day, about 20 meters of snow covered Gotham for a week. The worst part is that the snow doesn't melt. so the only thing they could've do was to sit and watch as only Fenton was able to melt the snow.

Danny was the last to get his kids, so as a responsible parent he let them go crazy, for the whole two weeks as long they keep their identities a secret and to be back at lunch, dinner, curfew and family night. which led to a bunch of rogues getting hunted and tied up by a pair of ghost kids. It was a peaceful quiet two weeks for Gotham.

'this is absolutely hilarious' Tucker known as Codelith mentally chuckled as his bat family including Foliahàrà who was sitting across him also tied up, he knew it was Sam the first moment he laid his eyes on her. no one does eyeliner as thick as Sam. Speaking of Sam she was glaring at him from across the room.

from different audiences it may have look like the two was going to kill eachother, but in reality its just their love language. The batfam looked at them confused.

"Codelit." Sam greeted in a annoyed tone.

"Foliahàrà." Tucker greeted in a more joyful tone.

"You two know eachother?" Duke questioned, as he eyed the two. very confused on why the two of them almost have the same green toxic light surrounding them.

"Ofcourse we do, we're ma-" Sam was cut off, by the sound of someone maniacally laughing. fate seemed to be a bitch because in strolled Joker himself holding a bloodied crowbar.

Tucker can feel Red hood relive his trauma, from where his sitting, he didn't really focused on the Jokers dramatic speech, because all he can think was the safety of his new family he grew comfortable with. thank fuck Dan and Dani aren't here.

"What's this a new birdie? Batman.. you sure like taking in a lot of children, how generous of you." this finally caught tucker's attention when as he saw joker walking towards him, his family stayed quiet but kept watching Joker's movements they looked constipated Tucker almost let out a snort but kept it in.

"Codelith wasn't it, Very unique I wonder why you picked it."Joker asked with a chuckle that made tucker want to puke. "Not talkative ey? well that's alright.

"I don't need you to talk." Joker playfully picked up his crowbar, then placed it on Tucker's shoulder dangerously close to his head."I just need you to scream."

He saw Sam trying to use her powers in the background, which unfortunately wasn't working because she's too used making exaggerated movements when using her plant powers, he remembers her saying that it makes it more easy to manipulate the greens around her, so she definitely had trouble controlling it while tied up, after all there was so little wrist movement to work with.

He sent a warning gaze to his Family and wife. to not make any sudden moves, which made Sam hesitantly stop, It was different with the batfam though they were really trying to be free from the ropes.

He returned his attention to joker, who was still waiting for an answer. "He's coming." was all he said, this only made joker grin, and the Bats confused. While Sam immediately got it.

Joker laughed fucking ugly laugh if Tucker said so himself, the rogue pointed at his new family's direction 'Who's he? can't you see new birdie they're all here no one's going to get you!"

And then Joker lifted his crowbar then struck down at Codelith's head, a awful sound resonated across the building, Fuck that's going to leave a nasty concussion. he felt blood dripping from his nose, as he heard the shouts and screams of the Bats and Sam. Oh Sam, I'm alright, Everything's okay, He can feel Foliahàrà's panic and anger from here.

Its okay, he's okay, because he's here.

Tucker grinned fucking grinned, like a villain type of grin. he looked up at Joker's direction and said:"He's here."

And then the wall blew up, making everyone in the warehouse startled, Here comes in the man itself. Fenton fucking Nightangle. with a smile plastered on his face he strutted in with full confidence, damn that's attractive Sam and Tucker agreed with each other.

"Joker." was all Fenton said, as he looked at the man with no emotion, his gaze landed on Sam then landed on Tucker who's blood was dripping on the floor, the only thing that Danny saw was green.

HURT?/PAIN?/IN DANGER.

"Mr. Fenton! are you also here to watch the show?"Joker grinned teeth showing and all. "It's such a pleasure for you to be her-"

Danny walked passed Joker, Never giving him a chance to finish, he focused his gaze infront of him and went towards Tucker and cupped his face making sure he wasn't hurt that much.

"Ah... ofcourse you would immediately go to them, so silly of me!"Joker laughed.

"What do you mean by that?" Batman asked suspicously, as he made sure the Fenton boy didn't hurt his new son.

"Don't tell me you don't know Batsy! gosh darn am I the one that'll say this so exciting." The irritating man chuckled. "Well if you didnt know Batman, Dr.Fenton, Foliahàrà, and Codelith are all married together!"

The Bats let out a gasp of surprise as they looked at the trio, who remained quiet.

"I know right! such a wonderful love story." Joker wiped a fake tear. "Too bad I have to kill you all, Dr. Fenton you might've taken the town in surprise by your so wonderful inventions, but you are nothing without your gadgets." Joker explained while twirling the crowbar in his hands.

Danny let out a chuckle, his back facing the green haired man. "I see that you've made some research about us Joker."

"Yes, you are quite right, I am married to Codelith and Foliahàrà, But there's something you've missed in your research." Fenton continued, he can hear Red robin in the background saying "I don't believe Codelith can pull two fine people." who was shushed by Nightwing.

"And what would that be? please entertain me Doctor." Joker grinned.

"My Hero name's Phantom." With that Danny made a slashing motion as he swiftly faced the Joker face to face, not even a second later half of the warehouse was engulfed by ice including Joker.

Hair white as now. skin pale as a paper, and eyes green as toxic radiation, he once again faced. The vigilantes with a smile and said:

"Well that was an eventful night, who wants Fudge?"

[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured (Alba's Version) II

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Summary: Something is missing

There is something missing, Alexia thinks that evening.

She isn't sure what it is but she knows there's something. Something should be at home but isn't.

It can't be Olga because she knows Olga is in Madrid with a client and won't be home for another week. Alexia misses her for sure, calling every night to make sure she's okay and ordering little gifts for Olga to find when she finally comes home again.

It's not Jaume because he's already in bed, fast asleep after a long training session after school. He's been doing well in school, solidly in the middle of the pack with all of his tests and exams. He's balancing everything very well.

The thought of her son fills her with pride. He's doing so well with his training too, leaps and bounds ahead of those in his age range and only seems to be getting better and better.

Alexia can already see, in her mind's eye, him debuting for Barcelona as a teenager. He's got the talent for it and the drive.

Playing for Barcelona is his dream, to be clad in the colours of the first team and play in a sold out Camp Nou just like Alexia did all those years ago.

She walks around her house, checking doors and windows are locked to try and work out what she's missing.

She checks the mantelpiece, in case a picture has fallen down but there's nothing.

All of Jaume's school photos are hanging up in pride of place for everyone to see. Nothing has fallen off. Nothing has appeared out of nowhere.

The only thing there is a layer of dust that should probably get cleaned up tomorrow when she has time.

But Alexia's not quite sure what she's missing as she heads back up the stairs.

Jaume's bedroom door is slightly open and she can see him snoozing happily through the crack like normal. Your bedroom door is closed.

That's normal too.

Your door is always closed. You always hide yourself away in your room, hidden from everyone else for most of the hours of the day.

Alexia sighs, shaking her head.

She's not quite sure what to do with you.

You finish school this year...

No, that's not right.

You finish school next year?

Maybe the year after that?

Alexia's not quite sure but either way you need to talk to her about your future, about what you want to do with your life.

Ballet is a nice hobby to have but Alexia doesn't know if you're talented enough to make it a job. Nothing has come home for you in a while and there's been no invitations to recitals and performances. To be honest, Alexia doesn't quite know if she's still paying for lessons for you because you never tell her about them.

It hardly matters though because soon enough you'll need an actual job and Alexia needs to know if you'll go straight out into the work force or if you're going to be going to university.

She isn't quite sure what you'd study but your self sufficient enough to know by this point.

Alexia can't remember the last time you've asked her for something but that hardly matters either. You've been independent for a while now. You know how to sort yourself out.

Alexia would just like to know in advance so she can plan her own stuff out like if you're going to need company when touring a university or if you're happy to do it by yourself.

She yawns, finally tearing herself away from your closed door.

It's very late and Jaume's got early morning practice that she's got to drive him to.

He could get himself there all on his own if he really wanted to. He's been very smug about his new bus pass, allowing him to meet up with his friends without Alexia shepherding him everywhere.

But, still, the mornings before football practice are something special between Alexia and Jaume.

Just the two of them in the car together.

They talk about everything and nothing.

It's the perfect time to catch up with her son, Alexia thinks. He's a very busy boy when school and friends and football is taken into account.

He does so much and has so little time so the car journey is always the best time to talk to him and find out what's been going on in his life.

It's a time that Alexia looks forward to every week but it's very early in the morning that they have to leave though so she really should be getting to bed.

Whatever conversation you and she should have can be delayed a little longer.

[ceoofglytchell]

Daughter Of The Sea

Summary: Crushed by the burdens weighing on his shoulders, Aegon takes you, his wife, on a flight on Sunfire to a special place, where he can forget the raging war and the burdens of the crown for at least a short time and at the same time start an attempt to get closer to you.

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Tully!Wife!Reader 

Word count: 4108 words

Warnings: fluff, obvious pining, brief angst (communication is hard), mentions of past smut, Aegon having dirty thoughts about you, very brief hint of a breeding kink, brief making out, no mention of Y/N 

Notes: I am a little stressed at the moment so this will be the only fic coming from me this week, but I will most certainly be back with another one on Saturday 💛. As always, feedback and criticism is always appreciated and please remember that english is not my native language.

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"No, no, fat old Lord Tully can either raise my banners or see his burn," Aegon said firmly, scanning the members of his Small Council. It was only early in the morning and he was already having to hold one of those miserable council meetings that just always tired him out. He would rather drink wine in his chambers or go out into the city to the Street of Silk, but he was no longer allowed to do that either. He was the King, after all.

"Lord Tully has another proposal, Your Grace. One that doesn't involve any bloodshed or fighting. A marriage alliance. His daughter is not yet married, but she will be soon if the pretender realizes that too. In this way, with this alliance, we could unite a large part of the Riverlands under our banner and expand our army with their men."

A small murmur went around the table and he could immediately see his mother looking at Criston with her dark brown eyes and they shared a long, knowing look. It was decided without him even having the chance to say anything about it and give his own opinion.

Once again, a decision was made over his head and he was forced to do something he did not want - just like the crown on his head, which was never meant for him.

He was going to get married and he didn't even know you.

You were different than he had expected.

A little more than a month had passed since the wedding, which had been held in small circles in front of a High Septon and your families in the great Sept in King's Landing. You were a pretty little thing. A little younger than him, loving and innocent. You had actually blushed when he had pressed a small, fleeting kiss on your lips to seal the marriage, which had then given him the motivation not to get drunk to the point of insensibility during the banquet so that he would not have to endure your company.

Instead, the opposite had been the case, for he had quickly grown to enjoy talking to you, hearing your soft voice and seeing the warm expression in your eyes. You were a little shy and you did not have much in common, but as the evening progressed, as the moment drew closer and closer when you would have to retire to your marital chambers to consummate the marriage, Aegon had noticed how you were picking at your cuticles and how you kept raising your hand to your face to bite your nails out of nervousness.

It was a habit he himself had, so he knew exactly how you must be feeling.

At that very moment, the king had felt something for you for the first time. He had realized that not only had he been forced into this sudden marriage, but that you had also suffered from this decision, and that you knew him as little as he knew you. Here, you were both the victims.

Aegon had been gentle when he had you lying beneath him in his bed and taking your innocence. He had tried as best he could to make it as comfortable as possible for you, but your little whimpers and the big tears that had rolled down your cheeks as he did his duty broke his heart and he had vowed to be good for you. You were now his wife, his queen, and soon probably the mother of his child, if his seed had taken root in your womb that one time, which is why he wanted to be a better man for you.

He had to get to know you first and maybe at some point your heart would open up to him and you could love each other as if this had not just been a political alliance but a marriage of love from the start.

"Nothing."

This very word clouded his every thought as he wandered through the cold, bare corridors of the Red Keep in search of something. He was the king, but at the same time he was completely powerless, at least when it came to his own life, because as long as he can remember everyone has always decided for him or over him and that was no different now. The only person who had decided absolutely nothing for him or forced him to do anything so far was you.

That was probably why he had instinctively walked to your chambers without even looking where his feet were taking him, and now found himself in front of the closed doors.

He could hear a faint noise from inside and as he took a step closer to the wooden doors he realized that you were humming. He did not recognize the melody nor could he hear you clearly, but for some reason your soft voice alone was soothing him immensely, as if you were a distant light in a world that consisted only of darkness. He only had to approach you and reach for your light.

He carefully opened the door and stepped into your chambers, which he had only briefly visited once before, when you had just furnished them after you had come to King's Landing. Back then, the interior had been sparse, but now every inch reminded him of you. It was comfortably furnished with plenty of seating, cushions and plants. The tapestries that hung on the walls were not about any sexual practices, unlike his, but yours were embroidered with small fish, aquatic plants and it was all in the colors of your house - red and blue - to give you a feeling of home so that you could properly settle in. On the shelves were piles of books, more embroidery and small pictures that you had painted on parchment.

You sat on an armchair in the corner of the room, rocking back and forth slightly as you gently stroked the cat that had curled up on your lap and you hummed a calm tune to it. He didn't remember the name of the small, orange kitten, but he knew it was a parting gift from your younger brother Oscar, so you wouldn't feel lonely in your new surroundings.

Aegon didn't want you to be lonely - or unhappy. Quite the opposite, he wanted to see you happy and above all he wanted you to be happy with him, as you would probably be together for the rest of your lives unless - gods forbid - a tragedy happened and you were taken away from him, which he would never allow. You were his wife and he would be damned if he couldn't protect you. If he wanted to be strong for anyone, it would be for you.

Approaching footsteps made you look up from your little friend in your lap and you froze when you saw your Lord Husband standing in your doorway and your eyes widened as he was the last person you expected to come visit you. Your marriage had been quite cold up until now, except for the consummation on your wedding night, but that was it. After that, you hadn't even kissed or touched each other in any way, except for the occasional kiss on the cheek before supper.

However, you would be lying if you said you didn't long to be close to him. You did not want to live a life without love, but to get it you also did not want to break the promise you had to make to him at the altar.

"Husband? What are you doing here?"

He wanted to approach you, but something inside him wouldn't let him move and he remained rooted to the spot at the door, which he at least closed behind him so that you could talk to each other alone.

What was he doing here? That was a good question. One that he himself didn't have an answer to. He wanted to get closer to you, but he didn't want to force his company on you either. However, he knew of a way that would allow him to be close to you, to show you a different side of him, while you would probably enjoy it too. He might even see you smile, but not the kind, respectful smile you always had on your lips, no, a real, loving one that was only meant for his eyes. He had not heard your laughter yet either.

"I wanted to see you." You blinked in confusion and scratched the cat a little more behind the ear, as if it would take away your nervousness itself, which wasn't the case, as your heart was beating so fast you were afraid it would burst out of your chest. He wanted to see you? Why? He had never voluntarily come to you to spend time with you, but you suspected there was a first time for everything.

"Why?" A rather unpleasant thought entered your head and for a moment you feared that he had only come to do his duty and then leave again, like the first time. You longed to be close to him, but you still wanted to get to know him a little better and learn to love him before you let him into your bed again. Hopefully he saw it the same way. "Have you come here to do our duty?"

The king immediately shook his head so that his short, white curls fell into his face, but that didn't really bother him. What bothered him, however, was that you thought he had only come here for that reason, but at the same time he could understand why. In your eyes there could be no other reason why he should come, since after a month of marriage you still barely knew each other.

"No, I... I wanted to ask you if you already have plans for today?"

The cat jumped off your lap and disappeared into your bedchamber next door, leaving you all alone with him, and you immediately felt a little more tense again. You wanted his attention, but it happened so suddenly that you were at a loss for words for a moment.

“No, not really. Do you have anything special in mind, husband?”

“I wanted to ask if you would like to ride with me? Just the two of us?”

You didn't know if it was his hopeful look or your longing and desire for freedom that made you accept his offer, but you did. The only thing you hadn't seen coming was that he wasn't leading you to the royal stables, but to a carriage that would take you to the dragon pit.

"I do not think I am made for the skies, Aegon," you said carefully as you heard Sunfire's gentle chants and the golden dragon slowly moved out of the darkness of the pit into the light to greet its rider. His mount was nothing short of beautiful. The dragon shone in a variety of colors when the light shone on it, and the dull pink of its wings reminded you of the many flowers that often grew on the shores of the small lakes in the Riverlands. Despite everything, the thought of flying on the back of such a winged beast filled you with fear and awe.

"No, small fish like you belong in the sea and that is why I am taking you there." For a moment you just stared at him, unable to believe that the first time he voluntarily spent time with you, he was granting two of your dearest wishes - to get closer to your husband and to see the sea again. Of course, there was a good view from the highest towers of the Red Keep, but just seeing it was not the same as feeling it, and you didn't want to disturb the fishermen at the harbor at their work just because you felt the need to stroll barefoot across a sandy beach.

The young king held out a gloved hand to you and tried to smile invitingly at you while he gently stroked the shiny scales of his mount with the other. He hadn't been out riding for a while and was already looking forward to flying through the air with you and seeing how you would feel about being able to see the world from above. On Sunfire's back he had always felt completely free, free from the annoying duties, free from the weight of the crown, free from the burdens of his name, free from everything, and you might feel the same. At least he hoped so.

You took a deep breath to calm your nerves before you walked closer to the beast, which seemed to be watching you curiously from the side.

Aegon helped you climb onto the saddle and then sat behind you to assure you that you would not fall off during the flight and that he would be a widower a month after the wedding. The warmth of your body so close to his, the sweet scent of your hair and the way your body clung to him drove him to the brink of madness in the first second, which was why he quickly gave Sunfire the command to take to the skies so that he would no longer have to think about you while you were so close to each other.

A small cry left your lips as the dragon, along with you and Aegon, rose into the sky above King's Landing and you saw the city from above for the first time. Instinctively, you pressed yourself closer to your husband's chest and grabbed his arm, which was wrapped securely around your waist, your fingers pressing so tightly into the fabric of his tunic that it was a wonder he hadn't objected to the touch.

Sunfire rose higher and higher until it almost reached the clouds, and Aegon couldn't help but grin like a fool when he felt you reaching for him in search of protection and safety, holding on so tightly as if you were afraid you might slip off the saddle and fall into the depths at any second.

As if he would ever let that happen.

"Are we nearly there?" you called over the wind that whipped against your ears and messed up your hair, while your narrowed gaze was fixed in fascination on the landscape below you.

"Soon! Be patient a little longer, wife." Aegon answered close to your ear, sending goosebumps down your arms as his voice made you realize just how close you had been and how much trust you had just put in him. You didn't even know where he was taking you except that it would have something to do with the sea.

After not too long of flying, you saw the outlines of a small group of islands appear in the distance, although they seemed to be uninhabited. The dragon suddenly began to fly a little lower and when your husband gave no other orders to contradict this, you realized that this must be the place he wanted to take you to in order to spend time with you - an island in the middle of the sea.

The island you landed on was small and had nothing more than a few rocks, some grass and a few plants and a small beach where the waves gently crashed. The sun was high in the sky and the sea was completely calm, which was a huge relief for Aegon, as he knew from experience that in the event of a storm, most of the small island would be swallowed up by the waves.

You landed on the ground again with wobbly legs and you could immediately smell the salt in the air and feel the sun burning on your skin. A smile formed on your lips as you stared into the horizon and saw the endless blue stretching out before you, which for some reason warmed your heart and made you feel more free again.

Riverrun, your home where you grew up, was not directly at the sea, but the castle had been surrounded by river water on all sides and you loved to ride to the coast with your younger brother to spend the day there, which made you miss the sea and nature even more. When you and Aegon had children together, you swore that they would not only have a dragon egg laid in the crib, as you knew was the Targaryen tradition, but you would also show them places like these and maybe even your childhood home at some point.

As Aegon dismounted behind you and Sunfire rose back into the air to circle over the island or just fly around a bit, and he saw your broad smile, he could feel a lump forming in his throat. He had always thought you were beautiful, but only now did he realize that you were much more than that. You had a beauty that he had never known before, and he was a fool for staying away from you for so long.

"Have you known this place for a long time?" You asked him, turning back to him to look into his eyes, which appeared a light purple tone in the blazing sun that reminded you of lavender.

"I come here occasionally. It is quite relaxing and simply... beautiful."

"Peaceful. It is peaceful," you responded then, whereupon Sunfire made a noise that reminded you of your cat. It sounded almost like an agreement - if a dragon could understand humans at all. He seemed to understand his rider well enough, even if he barely spoke High Valyrian.

"Yes, that too," Aegon gently patted Sunfire on the flank, causing the dragon to straighten up, flap its wings and take to the skies again, flying circles over the island group as they stood on the small beach and looked at each other.

"What do you do when you are here?" You asked him, lightly playing with your wedding ring on your ring finger, as it was a better distraction than biting your nails.

"Laying around and doing nothing, mostly," he felt a little bad telling you that, as it did not sound particularly like kingly behavior, but it was the truth and he did not want to deny you that. After all, he was doing this entire trip with you to get to know you better.

You nodded your head, an idea coming to you as you heard the sound of the waves slowly hitting the sandy beach and you could smell the salt that was hitting your skin. However, you didn't just want to smell it, you wanted to feel it too. "I will go swimming, I think."

Aegon blinked, as this was certainly not what he had expected you to do. He had expected you to lie down and talk, but not that he would suddenly see you starting to undo the laces of your dress and reveal your thin white shift and parts of your supple skin that he would love to caress and kiss if you let him one day.

"Be careful, please," the king asked gently, as he was not about to come with you and sink into the salty sea water and feel as free as a fish himself, but hopefully you would. He wished that you would feel as free and carefree as you did before marrying him.

"I will be," your blue dress fell onto the ground, while you walked into the waves in your white undergarment until you were surrounded by water up to your shoulders, while he sat down on the ground and quietly watched you from afar.

You reminded him of the old tales about nymphs who were said to have seduced men at lakes with their beauty and then dragged them into the depths never to be seen again, but he also knew that you were different. You were definitely tempting him right now- not that you knew-  but you would also never harm him. A small part of him wanted to join you, to see if he had managed to make you feel happiness again, but his courage failed him and instead he merely kept on watching you.

You swam through the cool water for some time, and each and every minute you could feel his eyes following your every move, while your husband's dragon flew around in the sky above you the whole time. Two dragons were watching you, and you had hoped one would join you, but he did not. Of course not.

Aegon had lost himself in daydreams the longer he watched you swim. He dreamed of a life where he had met you under different circumstances and he had married you because he wanted to and not because he was forced to. It would have been love, not obligation.

Lost in these sudden daydreams, he did not notice you rising from the waves again, the now soaked shift you were wearing being practically see-through now, the thin fabric clinging to your curves like a second skin.

When his gaze focused again and he saw you like this, his amethyst colored eyes widened immediately and you stole his breath away by not even doing anything. You were heavenly.

You dropped into the sand next to him and lay down, your eyes fixed on the blue sky and your hair spread out beneath your head like a halo. He couldn't take his eyes off you anymore and he couldn't help but let his eyes wander over every inch of your body. Under the thin material of your shift he could see your hardened nipples and little pearly drops of water running down inside your cleavage, making him look at your breasts for a moment longer than necessary, which caused a lump to form in his throat and to feel something stir deep inside him.

Gods, now he would have to control himself.

"You could have joined me," you said suddenly out of nowhere and turned your head so that you could look at your husband's handsome face, which was catching the rays of sunlight in such a way that you thought he was glowing.

"I did not want to force my company on you."

You quickly rolled onto your side, giving him an even better glimpse of your cleavage and he had to actively bite the inside of his cheek to avoid making any noise that would ruin the beauty of this moment and that would force him to explain himself.

"Aegon, I enjoy your company. I just wish you would give me more of it. You are my husband and I barely know you."

The disappointment in your voice broke his heart, but at the same time he cursed himself for not being able to think of anything other than ripping off the last piece of clothing that covered your body and repeat your wedding night, but this time properly and not just giving yourself to him because it was your duty as his queen to give him heirs. But he restrained himself.

"My little wife enjoys having me around, huh?"

"Come on, you are not that bad. I am sure you are more bearable than Aemond." You giggled and the sound made his heart beat faster and a warmth spread through him that he had not felt before with a woman yet.

"You would not have survived marriage to him, little fish. He is too... fierce."

"Do you not know what they say? Tough on the outside, soft on the inside. Perhaps I could have softened him."

Aegon laughed and shook his head firmly, as he was a thousand percent sure that even your kind nature and sweet disposition could not have changed his little brother's stoic demeanor, even if you both shared a common love of books. "No, my love. Even you could not have done that."

"And what of you? Do you think I am able to warm your heart?"

The king did not have to think about his answer for a second and he replied to you without thinking of any possible consequences: "You already have."

You didn't know if he had closed the gap or if it was you, but suddenly your lips were on his and you lost yourself in the way he held you tightly and deepened the kiss with a sense of urgency you had longed for.

Maybe you would not have to wait forever for love to blossom.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

[zweiginator]

i crave inexperienced art like air. he’s never touched anyone except himself so his first time with you is a flurry of questions. “is this good?” “there?” “too much?” he’s so sickeningly sweet about it to the point you have to just take control. whether it’s his hand or his dick, you forcefully grab either and show him how while getting yourself there. he’s moaning and spilling in his pants like he’s 15 again. (i’m ovulating and going INSANE rn.)

mmmm art who is repressed. art whose grandma is very traditional and wants her grandson to be respectable, kind, and masculine in the chivalrous, soft way as the young men in her generation were.

so while she never outright said art should save himself, he would be far too guilty if he had sex. so he doesn't.

and as a twenty year old sophomore in college, he has done a good job at fulfilling this promise. he's only touched himself a handful of times; he doesn't remember how each time began--he just felt like he had to.

but after each time, each desperate thrust into his fist, each pass of his thumb over his aching cockhead, each time he came until he was shaking and out of breath--he felt so guilty. just dirty.

he can't imagine how bad he will feel after having real sex.

and he doesn't even worry about the possibility until he meets you. a pretty girl in his class who is so kind. you're so airy. he doesn't know how to explain himself or exactly what that means--he guesses that you're just sort of like a big breath. you feel good, natural, easy.

he can't help himself, looking at your body. his eyes pass over you and he wonders, like a pervert--like a bad, bad boy--what you look like underneath your clothes. the perk of your nipples, the curve of your breast. he wonders how your waist would feel. and he is really, really curious about your pussy. he's never seen one. but he doesn't just want to look it up to quench that thirst, that desire. he only wants to see yours.

you come over to his house to study quite a bit. you like how sweet he is. so hospitable; he always has drinks and a snack waiting for you. always listens to your ideas. always compliments how smart you are.

but art feels like a monster. he feels like a wretched excuse for a man. because whenever you leave, he has to touch himself. he gets that same ache in his stomach, his balls. he needs to cum. he hates that word, but it's true. he spits in his hand and fucks his fist and dreams of it being you. dreams of you taking from him, taking his virginity. having him all for yourself. whatever you fucking want, he would give it to you. your name spurts from his mouth like the ropes of cum that coat his hands.

and he scrubs his body raw afterwards. hates himself.

but soon, touching himself isn't enough. the more you come over to study, the more he gets those evil aching sensations but not to touch himself--to touch you. your skin looks so soft. you smell so good. your lips are glossy. he likes how they curl up when you smile.

he cuts you off as you're talking.

"can i please kiss you?" his request is quiet, his voice full of trepidation.

"yes. i was wondering when you would."

art didn't realize you were waiting for him. he launches forward. to hover on top of you on the couch. he's lazily made out with a girl before, but it wasn't anything serious, and they both sucked at it.

art's kisses are eager, his lips ache for more the second they close upon your own. he wants to do it again and again. so his mouth opens wider and he experiments. pushes his tongue against yours. he moans into your mouth, moans your name again and again. he's so desperate to touch you, but he doesn't know how. you push his hand under your shirt; you're not wearing a bra.

he feels the impossibly supple skin, the peak of your nipples.

"fuck--" he whimpers, rolling it between his fingers.

this time you moan. it makes him so hard. he doesn't know how someone could be this hard.

"is this good? do you like this?" the way art asks it isn't in the sexually charged way, it's a sincere question; he's worried he's doing a bad job. that you don't like this.

but you pull him back in. a 'yes' rolls from your lips as you nibble on his and your hand snakes down his torso. he's toned an hard there. he's harder when you feel his cock, straining.

and when you palm him, it's lazy. but art mewls against the corner of your mouth; he's basically drooling. his mouth falls open and you realize he's cumming. his hips jerk and he hides his face because god, that's embarrassing.

"we gotta get your stamina up." you whisper against his neck.

art nods and bites back a smile because you said we and not you.

[radiance1]

Killer Croc and Jack Fenton are brothers.

Killer Croc was the first born, just a about 5 years older than Jack. Their father was a large man, much larger than should be possible considering he never had a meta gene.

But oh boy would it have not surprised them if he did. Because that man was strong, 10 feet tall, and shrugged off things that would injure most people.

Like a brick to the head.

Anyways.

Croc was entranced with his younger brother; he was so small so much tinier than he had any right to be, and cuter than a button. He babbled like most babies do, but Croc wouldn't think twice before calling his baby brother the best baby of them all.

His dad could fit him in the palm of his hand easily! Which was just one of Jack's many great qualities in his opinion!

Croc and Jack's parents weren't really on the best of terms, Croc could tell. He didn't know why, really, but he didn't want his baby bro to feel unloved in any sort of way, and it's not like he really had friends to hang out with, plus his parents were busy with jobs.

So he mostly spent his time taking care of and playing with Jack. Changing diapers, feeding him, lifting him up and down with his tail, just the normal sibling stuff.

He feels kind of bad for his dad though, whatever kind of job he had didn't even let him come home most days, and when he did he could barely even walk upright without falling asleep and jolting awake. He still made time for them, however, when he got those rare few off days.

He's honestly surprised that man managed to drive a car properly in the state he was in.

Their mother was often out of the house, Crocc didn't know what she was doing but he just thought it was like his dad. Unlike his dad, however, she didn't really like him. He didn't really know why, nor did he really care either if he was to be honest.

Around a year later the tension between their parents got so thick it could be cut with a butter knife. Then it turned to arguments in the rare times they both were in the house, he didn't even know his parents could make such cutting remarks to each other, and then both of them being in the house less than before.

Then when he turned 10, and Jack 5. They got divorced. Croc was left with his mother and Jack got taken by his father. His mother didn't take the divorce well, really, probably because at the same time she got fired from whatever the hell she was doing and was left jobless.

Then she dropped the bomb on his that his dad wasn't even his actual dad and Jack is only his half-sibling and then promptly abandoned him in the sewers with the rats and what was most likely very poisoned water due to it being the sewers and Gotham.

Well. Fuck.

Croc thinks that Jack doesn't even remember him due to how young he was, nor did he ever see his dad again cause, y'know, being abandoned in the sewers and all.

Then multiple years later he ran into his brother again and got DAMN was he tall. Not taller than him, but it was basically the equivalent of a gut punch to Croc, because he remembers his baby bro being so tiny, so baby.

He blames his father's genes for him being 8 feet taller now. A head shorter than him, sure. But he wants back his small baby bro alright.

Then he finds out his baby bro has a family.

And fuck did he not want to involve himself anymore in fear of being a catalyst for tearing said family apart due to being, well, him and all. Then he was promptly (quite literally) dragged over to meet said family despite his stance on the matter.

Then he finds out he's just treated like a normal person with zero amount of fear. His wife? She had to have a giant in her family too because she was 7 feet tall and was smart enough to kick his ass.

His daughter? 6 feet tall and their first meeting she accidently became his therapist. Also, he was sure she was a meta of some kind, probably something to do with wolves.

Then finally, their son.

It felt like he was thrown back to his childhood when he saw him, he looked so much like Jack did, and he was so, so tiny just like his baby bro was. He had to physically hold himself back from doing anything with the kid because he feared he would accidentally break him or something.

Then he found out that apparently his nephew was half-dead and that his brother and his wife hated ghosts with a passion, built a portal to the other side, had their city attack by the ghost king and then promptly found out about their son's half-dead status and had to do a major revamp of basically everything they knew and acted upon.

Which they're still working on.

Oh and also their daughter is a werewolf, she had a meta gene from someone of his dad's side and only recently activated it.

All of that which was a lot to take in for old Killer Croc, also he knew his niece had something to do with wolves.

So, Killer Croc in all of his life from the point of being abandoned at up to now, decided to go screw the bats and whatever they're attempts of figuring out what the fuck's going on with him (look at you Red Hood.) and decided to try and integrate himself into this family and brother's life again as best he can.

[lostintransist]

Fallen Angel | Charmed

Simon knows how it started. This...superstition that leads to his men feeling safe. It involves you. Of course, it does. You have crept into every other aspect of his life, as slowly as squash vines fingering their way up bushes and houses. He doubts you even know you've done it, infiltrated his peace.

Johnny, in his ineffable suaveness, kissed you on the cheek one time as he said his goodbyes before a mission. The man got blown clear through a wall with nary a scratch. The only thing different he could remember doing had been kissing you. Bastard couldn't keep his mouth shut about it. None of the other guys had met you yet. Ghost knew that would change. Johnny wouldn't shut the fuck up about how he had to test this again, to see if a kiss from you turned out to be a lucky charm.

Military men were more in tune with spirits, vibes, cosmic entities than most religious leaders, witches, or charlatans combined. They had to be. There were no atheists in foxholes after all.

They did meet you, Price, then Gaz, then Roach. Ah, Roach. Always the last to be let into a new dynamic. A capable solider, a solid member of the 141, but still a guarded, protected member, to those on the outside. You welcomed him with a warm smile and a surprise knowledge of sign language.

"This is Roach," Gaz clapped him on the shoulder. "He doesn't speak."

Roach had glared at Kyle over his shoulder. The heat in the stare had been clear even behind his sunglasses and surgical mask.

You squinted up at Kyle from your place at the coffee table, mid-game of cribbage with Johnny. (This was the only game he had a chance of winning since luck could sway a hand in either direction).

"Does he not speak or does he not communicate with you because you're kinda an asshole?"

Kyle's nose scrunched down at you. Price laughed into his drink and Simon wouldn't help a small chuckle. He opened his mouth to defend himself but you turned to look at Roach. You moved your hands quickly, one brow lifted in question. Simon recognized only one of your moves as sign language.

Roach did a little head shake before replying, hands flying as fast as yours did.

You laugh at whatever he signs, "I am not calling you roach. My friends will not let me live it down if I make another friend with a weird name."

You glare at Johnny who grins in reply.

Roach signs more as Kyle slips into the kitchen for a drink for everyone.

"My brother is deaf. I learned to sign before I could speak, my mom taught me by virtue of signing with my brother." You sign along as you speak, telling everyone your half of the conversation at least. "We still talk regularly even though he moved to Australia to be a professor at one of their colleges."

You and Roach had hit it off, becoming fast friends. Signs flew back and forth. At one point Simon watched your brows draw together before snapping to glare at Johnny and then back to Roach. Simon watched it all with a slight fascination. Roach had never taken to anyone so fast, let alone a woman. You slid into the dynamic of the 141 as if you were molded for it.

When the guys had readied themselves to leave you ducked under Johnny's attempt to plant a kiss on you again. Instead, you dragged Roach off to the bathroom and sent him out askew. Sunglasses pushed into his hair, mask sitting wonky on his face, and several kiss marks in pink lipstick covering from ear to ear. Several were only half covered by his mask.

Johnny glared at him for getting kisses that he needed to test for luck. Gaz clapped him on the shoulder.

"Guess I'm not the only asshole here today. Better luck next time Soap. But at least we know that if Roach comes through an impossible situation then she is definitely a good luck charm."

Everyone laughed as they trailed out of the building. Simon had seen you, leaning on the railing on the top of the stairs. You sent him a two-fingered salute, he nodded and shut the door behind him.

Roach had taken a shot to the side, missing his liver by millimeters. That had confirmed it for the team, you were a good luck charm. That is why Simon had popped back to the flat, for a smidge of that luck.

He found you asleep on the couch. Peaceful. The couch would hurt you if you stayed on it too long. Simon knew from experience. He slid a hand under your knees and upper back, lifting you into his arms. You blinked sleepily up at him.

"Hi Ghost. Why are you carrying me?"

"Can't sleep on the couch," he grunted back.

"Oh," came your sleepy little reply. "Do you need a kiss?"

Only the training of years and years kept him from freezing up at your question. He pushed into your room through the cracked door, sitting you upright in your bed. He knelt on one knee at your feet. You rubbed your eyes as you looked at him.

"Yes."

He had a solo mission. This one scared him. Something in his bones told him that he wouldn't make it home in one piece.

You lift both hands to his masked face. Leaning forward you place two gentle kisses over the eyeblack of his eyelids. It wasn't enough. Ghost shifted the mask up to sit over his nose. He watched your gaze flick over his scars, moving like a dragonfly.

Still holding his face you pull him close, angling him for a kiss. The softness of your lips against his rough ones zaps at his soul. He can't help but put both hands on the bed, bracketing your hips, and pushing up into the kiss. Your thumbs slip beneath the edge of the mask, rubbing streaks in the hallows of his face.

Taking the barest part of your lip between his teeth he pulled. You breathed a moan into his mouth before pulling back. Avoiding his eyes you pull the mask down, shifting it to sit just so. Going so far as to tuck it into his hoodie you still avoid his eyes.

When your hands are settled in your lap again you look at him.

"Good luck Ghost, Simon."

He looked at you a moment more before slipping from your room and the flat altogether.

Fallen Angel Masterlist | Masterlist

[pumpkinpastiesandcoffee]

Princess - Lip Gallagher

Lip Gallagher x F! Reader 18+

Summary: Tony's little sister has a crush on Lip and Lip has fallen for her even if she seems like a princess. Words: 2400 Warnings: NSFW, Dry sex / Dry humping, alcohol, marijuana

~MDNI~

Y/n was Tony Markovich's little sister and she had the world's biggest crush on Phillip Gallagher. Lip hadn't always liked the girl, he found her too shy, always hiding in the background but the last few months, bumping into her as she leaves her brothers place to then hanging out together, he found himself falling for her. Walking sunshine would be his best description of her, followed closely by princess which she complains about although she secretly loves the nickname.  

Lip was apprehensive to start anything with Tony's little sister, the man might like Fiona and by extension Lip and his family, but he was still a cop and he'd seen how scary he could be towards her boyfriend Kyle a few years back so it was no surprise she'd been single since. Y/n however was afraid Lip just wasn't into her and had been too afraid to say anything, her anxiety keeping her feelings just below the surface. It was hard though, watching him with Karen then even harder when they stopped seeing each other because now she could feasibly tell him how she feels but still the words would stick in her throat.

Tonight, she sat huddled under a picnic blanket, staring at the small crackling fire as people around the makeshift circle laughed and chatted. She glanced up when a beer bottle entered her line of sight and smiled up at Lip who was offering her the drink. "Thanks Lip, looks like it was a fight for the cooler tonight" she mused, eyeing the small group of guys that were stood around said cooler yelling at each other. "Ah, worth the fight I recon" Lip had laughed as he sat down beside her and as she tugged the blanket tighter around herself. Getting a glare from her in response, "It's not my fault I dressed for summer in summer, only for the temperature to drop like it's fall".

Lip pulled out a joint, lighting it up and taking a long drag of it, watching the smoke he blows back out dissipate into the air. Turning slightly, he offered it to y/n before remembering she doesn't smoke, "sorry, I always forget, you're a princess" he scoffed, lips curled into a playful smirk. He often made fun of her for it but never with the intention of forcing her into it and up until now she had never shown an interest either, never seemed bothered by the teasing. However, to his surprise he felt her fingers brush over his hand as she moved to take it from him causing Lip to raise a brow in surprise.

"Y'know I'm joking right? It's fine you don't smoke" Lip was quick to reassure her as he turned to face her properly. "Yeah, I know. You'd never make me do anything I didn't want to Lip. I want to try it, just been afraid of getting caught by Tony and he's working tonight, so" she shrugged, blue eyes flicking up to meet his. "Plus, I know I'm safe with you for my first-time smoking weed so, if the offer stands?" Lip nodded, that familiar warm feeling settling in his chest which he was quick to wave off as the weed even though he knew better. He handed the joint to her, explaining how to smoke it then watching as she followed his instructions.

Y/n only held it in her lungs for a few seconds before the dry burn of her lungs had her coughing. Lip reached over, rubbing her back as he laughed at her, a shit eating grin on his face. “Cat got your lung?” Lip laughed again, only to get whacked in the chest by her hand causing him to cough. Y/n shot him daggers but her lips were quirked up, her features alight with amusement the way he loved and it made him smile and that warm feeling tighten.

It only took a few minutes for it to kick in, but when it did, y/n found herself entranced by the fire, the way it moved and the flames broke off and flicked up into the sky had her captivated. Lip however was captivated instead by her, the way her eyes watched the flames and reflected them and the little gasp when it made a particularly loud crackle. At one point y/n leant into Lip’s side, his arm moving to wrap around her while she spoke, “Does it always feel this peaceful?” Lip shook his head, squeezing her lightly, “Not always, depends on the person and how often they smoke.” Y/n made a small sound in reply before smiling up at him. “I think this is the first time in my life I actually feel calm, like I can talk without everything catching in my throat, I like it” her voice trailed off as her eyes returned to the fire.

She perked up as a new song came on, “Oh! Oh Lip, I love this song” she beamed, standing up and extending her hand to him, “dance with me?” Had it been anyone else he would’ve said no but he couldn’t, not to her and with that he placed his beer down and took her hand. Y/n wasn’t a good dancer, but her awkwardness was rather endearing to Lip as they danced to a few songs, laughing freely as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him into a hug. Lip smiled, wrapping his own arms around her waist and hugged her back before lifting her up and spinning her around. She giggled, holding on tighter until he set her back down. Y/n expected the anxiety to bubble up as she looked up at him but instead found only the uninhibited desire to kiss him. One hand still holding his shoulder, the other moved to his cheek as she leaned in to kiss him, catching Lip off guard entirely. It took a second for him to kiss back but once he did, he never wanted to stop. It was a simple kiss, but they could both feel more, so when she pulled back, he pouted causing her to laugh.

“Walk me home?” she asked, a small smile on her lips. Lip nodded, “yeah, ‘course.” He took her hand and they headed for Tony’s house, although as they reached the foot path, the cool breeze had y/n shivering, curling into his arm. As much as he liked her being that close, he felt bad and quickly pulled away to shed his coat and wrap her in it, smiling when only her finger tips peeked through the sleeves. Taking her hand again, he was relieved when she leant back into him. As they reached the porch, she unlocked the door and stepped inside, smiling back at him, “coming?” Lip was quick to take her outstretched hand and follow her in. They walked upstairs and she pushed open one of the doors, he looked around her bedroom before looking back at her. She was kicking off her shoes and hopping onto her bed so he followed suit, coming to sit beside her, back against the wall and feet hanging off the other side of her bed while she sat facing him, legs tucked to the side.

Her fingers brushed his hand, pulling his eyes to her, “can I kiss you again?” Lip smiled, leaning forward and she was quick to meet him halfway. This time the kiss wasn’t unexpected and Lip made sure to make it a good one. His hands sat either side of her face, fingers curling into her hair as his tongue traced her bottom lip and without hesitation she opened her mouth for him, giving him complete control as she leant into him. Her hands grasped at his shoulders and Lip moved a hand to her waist, pulling her closer until she was sat, straddling his lap. The kissing only got more heated from there, Lip ran his hand on her waist under her top, loving the way she leaned into his touch. His hand moved to her back, tracing up and down her spine before returning to her waist.

Lip broke the kiss causing y/n to whine before he pressed his lips to her neck, hands moving to shove his jacket off her shoulders. She easily shrugged it off, letting the heavy fabric hit the floor as she focused on the way his teeth nipped her neck making her gasp. “Lip” her voice came out so softly it was barely audible but their proximity meant he heard her and he smiled against her throat, “Princess?” Her cheeks reddened at the teasing tone, her fingers carding through his hair, tugging at the short pieces at the back making him groan as he looked up to her. Both of his hands sat on her hips now and he gripped them tightly, pulling her forward, grinding her against the rough denim that wasn’t doing much to conceal how hard he was in that moment. She surprised herself with the moan that escaped her throat, cheeks now a deep shade of red as she looked down at him.

“Lip, I…” her voice trailed off and Lip stopped, eyes lifting to meet hers, brows knitting together, “We don’t have to if you don’t want to” She shook her head, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before glancing down, “I want to, I really do but, you should know I’m, well I’m a virgin.” Lip felt bad, the way she whispered the word ‘virgin’ sounded like she was ashamed and his hand caught the side of her face, encouraging her to look at him, “It’s okay.” Now it was his turn for his voice to trail off as he sighed, “You’re still high though, we can’t… you’re first time should be sober.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I should’ve told you before I invited you up here, now we’re both, I’m sorry Lip!” y/n rambled, immediately afraid she’d ruined his night and was about to hop off when Lip grabbed her hip, shaking his head, “It’s okay, we can just, make-out if you want? Or not if you don’t want to.” She shifted her weight back to the centre of his lap to kiss him however the friction had them both groaning. She was quick to apologise again and Lip was just as quick to reassure her it was okay, pressing his lips to hers in hopes of returning to the make-out session.

Lip kept his hands to her back and waist, his lips on hers or the hickey he had started earlier. Y/n however was still well aware of just how turned on they both were and decided to roll her hips against him. Maybe it was the weed or maybe it was the desperation for some form of friction, either way, feeling Lip dig his fingers into her waist made her smile. It wasn’t until she did it a second time with a bit more force that Lip realised it was no longer an accident, he glanced up at her with a brow raised and she bit her lip, “Is this okay?” Lip was sure he should say no and stop her, he should be decent and tell her to go to bed, but his decency seemed to stop at sex. Grinding on one another though? That was fair game. So instead, he found himself pushing his hips hard up into her, watching with a smirk as she gasped.

Things devolved into desperation after that, both tipsy and high, they wanted to feel good and their hot kisses full of tongue and teeth were only adding fuel to the fires burning in them. Lip was now gripping y/n’s hips tightly, using them as leverage to drag her over his now painfully hard cock, grunting as he pressed his lips to the crook of her neck. Y/n was no better, the previous slow rolling of her hips was now faster and getting uneven like her breathing, the small whimpers and moans only pushing Lip closer to his own climax. “Fuck, princess, you sound so sweet” Lip groaned against her ear, kissing her temple then her lips. She had avoided speaking, knowing sentences weren’t going to be achievable right now but she stuttered nonetheless, “so close, Lip, so” her voice cut off with a particularly harsh thrust from Lip. “Lip, Lip please, Lip,” she whimpered, nails biting into his shoulders as she chanted his name. She came moments later, body tensing as she cried out his name while Lip kept her moving as until he came too, groaning against her chest.

Y/n began to come down from her high, head resting against his shoulder as she got her breathing back to normal. Lip held her tightly still, arms now wrapped around her waist and his head leant back against the window. They stayed like that for a while, both enjoying the euphoria and comfort within one another before finally y/n leant back, cheeks red as she looked at Lip. He was quick to kiss her before leaning back to meet her eyes, “you okay?” She nodded, “yeah, I’m okay. You?” Lip nodded, kissing her cheek softly. “It’s probably really silly but god I am so tired now” she whispered causing Lip to laugh. “No, it’s not, it’s pretty normal. I should get home anyway; let you get to bed” He smiled softly at her.

Nodding, y/n slipped herself off his lap, “Yeah, plus if Tony comes home to us in bed together, I think he’d kill you.” Lip laughed nervously, hopping off the bed and grabbing his jacket, holding it in front of his crotch in hopes he could hide the dark patch they’d both made. He leant across the bed, kissing her gently but with a depth that had her head spinning. “I’ll see you tomorrow princess” Lip smirked at her before heading out. Y/n sat on her bed wondering if she just imagined it all or if it was some crazy weed induced hallucination, however as her eyes flicked across the floor, she noticed Lip’s scarf on the floor and she went a grabbed it. With the scarf in hand, she curled up under her covers, bringing the scarf up to her nose and breathing in, smiling at the smell of cigarettes, weed and beer she knew it was real and found herself falling asleep to thought of seeing Lip again tomorrow.

[megalony]

Another Life Lost- Part 2

Here is the next part of my Buddie x reader imagine, thank you all for the amazing feedback on the first part. I hope you will all like this one.

Please let me know what you think.

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Buddie Masterlist

Part 1

Summary: Eddie, (Y/n) and Evan want to start a family together, but it doesn't seem to be going the way they planned. And now that they're pregnant, again, (Y/n) is starting to panic. She can't handle another loss.

Enjoy.

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Yanking his shirt over his head, Evan rolled it down towards his hips and clicked his neck into place before he trudged out of the bedroom. He tucked the end of his shirt into the top of his jeans that he snagged a little higher on his hips while he headed into the hall.

When his eyes glanced down to his watch, he clicked his tongue and padded across towards the bathroom.

They needed to set off or they were going to be late.

Evan had a thing for being punctual. He liked to arrive to things either ten minutes early or dead on time, being late wasn't an option.

"Baby, you almost ready to go? Eds is gonna meet us down there, remember?" He rapped his knuckles lightly on the bathroom door and leaned his head to one side as he waited for a response.

They were going to a scan today. It was Evan's day off, but Eddie had a long shift that he couldn't swap. Although, Bobby was gracious enough to let Eddie take an hour off to race down to the hospital, be there for the scan and then head back to the station. Bobby knew both men needed to be there today at the scan. (Y/n) wasn't going to cope on her own and Eddie's head wouldn't be on the job if he had to stay behind while his partners went to their scan.

So far, Bobby was the only one who knew (Y/n) was pregnant, and that was only so Eddie and Evan could tell him when they had appointments that they needed to be there for.

They both knew (Y/n) had begrudged telling Bobby because she didn't want anyone to know yet. She had almost burst into tears when Eddie said that after this scan today, he wanted to tell Chris. They couldn't exactly hide this from him and (Y/n) was going to start showing soon, Chris was bound to find out and he needed to be one of the first to know.

"Baby," His voice rung out in a sing-song tone and a smile danced across his lips as he waited for a response.

"I don't want to."

That wasn't what Evan had been expecting. His smile faded into a frown and a shot of adrenaline dosed through his stomach and wormed right up to his heart that added in three extra beats. The sound of her voice was panicked and Evan knew instantly that she was, or had been, crying.

"What?" He gingerly opened the bathroom door and peeked his head round to try and find his girlfriend and see what she was doing in here.

His eyes landed on (Y/n) almost immediately and his heart stuttered when he took in her state. She was perched on the toilet, arms secured around her waist, body slowly rocking back and forth like she was having some kind of panic attack. And she had tear tracks running down her face and trickling across her chin.

For a moment, Evan clenched his hand down on the door handle and leaned into the frame to support himself. He closed his eyes tight and tensed his neck so much that the back of his head began to ache. A gruff noise croaked at the back of his throat and he shook his head to rid the flashing memories from his mind.

He didn't want to remember the night he woke up to (Y/n)'s voice feebly calling out his name. Evan didn't want to remember seeing her laid on the bathroom floor, blood coating her thighs and hands and towels scattered round her as she tried feebly to hide what had happened.

When he opened his eyes again he sucked in a deep breath and pushed off the door, walking over towards her as he reassured himself that she was okay, at least physically. She wasn't crippled over in agony or screaming that anything was wrong or telling him her stomach was cramping or something bad had happened.

He let himself sink down on the edge of the bath with his elbows resting on his thighs and his hands clasped together between his parted knees.

"Talk to me."

"I don't want to go. If there's n-no heartbeat, I'd rather not know." (Y/n) shook her head and refrained from looking down at her stomach before she unhooked her arms from her waist.

Her hands moved to smother her face and she held her breath, trying in vain to calm herself down and ward off the tears that somehow wouldn't stop.

(Y/n) didn't want another scan. She didn't want anymore scans if there was a chance they would turn out the same as their last one. They were around sixteen weeks. Right in the prime zone for something bad to happen. Again. They were nineteen weeks the first time when (Y/n) lost their first girl. She was twenty-one weeks when they went for a scan and found out it had happened again without any of them knowing.

If that was going to happen again, (Y/n) would rather not go and get that news. She would rather stay home and pretend that everything was fine and wait for the day she collapsed or the cramps she was waiting for finally took over.

Her arms started to tremble when she felt Evan's hands gently curling around her wrists and she felt him leaning so close his breath started to tickle the back of her hands.

He cautiously pulled her hands away from her face and leaned forward so he was within her sights. The broken look in his eyes made (Y/n) whimper, but his smile was etched with sorrow and it made her feel ten times worse. She didn't want to upset him. She didn't want to make either of the boys feel as broken and sad as she felt, especially when the pair of them were trying to be upbeat about this.

The feeling of Evan's thumbs tracing across her wrists and over her pulse made (Y/n) shiver but she couldn't help leaning towards him.

"No, no baby we need this scan, okay? We have to make sure they're okay and everything is going smoothly. There's gonna be a heartbeat because you're both perfectly fine."

He brought her hands close so he could pepper kisses against her knuckles and the touch was calming, but his words weren't having the desired effect.

"No, Evan please-"

"Sweetheart, we can't just not go to a scan. We have to make sure you're both okay, it's just routine, nothing's gonna go wrong."

"It did last time."

The last one was routine. They had gone into the hospital that day expecting to come out with a scan photo and the sound of their daughter's heartbeat. They didn't expect to come out with a scheduled date to end the pregnancy because their baby had been lost.

With a deep breath, Evan ran one hand down his face before he took (Y/n)'s hands in his again. "That was different… those things happen, baby. But not this time, trust me."

He wouldn't let it happen again. Evan didn't know what he would do or how he would prevent it, but he would do anything. He would pray if he had to. But Evan needed this to work out, he couldn't see all three of them break from another loss. They couldn't lose another, they couldn't each be mourning a child.

"I w- I want this to work out," Leaning forward, (Y/n) slumped her cheek onto Evan's shoulder and curled her hands around his arm, pinning it to her chest like it was a calming mechanism.

They wanted kids.

Eddie had Chris who had always been his world, and he wanted more kids. Evan had always wanted kids, he wanted a baby in his arms, a little life to watch grow and help thrive and someone to love and nurture. And (Y/n) wanted a baby with both her men. She wanted to have a baby of her own and have this experience. She didn't see why it wasn't working out so far.

Was there something wrong with her? Was she not supposed to be a mother? Was this a sign? Or could she just not have girls? Would this time work out because she might be having a boy?

"I know, sweetheart, and it will." Evan pressed his lips to the back of (Y/n)'s head and cupped her neck while she continued to cling to his arm. "Which is why we need to go today, hm? Check how bubba is doing, make sure both of you are okay."

He felt the way (Y/n) shivered against him, but Evan could of cried when he realised (Y/n) was nodding into his chest. And when she hummed, he sighed and kissed her head again.

He carefully unravelled his arm from her clutches and moved to hold her hips, helping her up. When (Y/n) bound her arms around his torso and meshed herself into his chest, Evan didn't object. He pressed his flush lips against her temple and reeled her in, cupping the back of her neck and winding his other arm around her waist to hold her close.

His cheek leaned on top of her head and they stayed huddled together for a few minutes until Evan was sure (Y/n) wasn't crying anymore and he could feel her breaths evening out against his chest.

He kept his arm around her waist and kissed the back of her head every now and then as they headed out the bathroom and went to get ready.

(Y/n) tangled her hands together in front of her to stop them from shaking. She could feel the resistence welling up inside of her when they stepped out the front door and headed over to the jeep.

She didn't want to go.

She didn't want to feel like this. They had been a little nervous and apprehensive the second time, but all of them had still been happy to get another chance at having a family together. That appointment ruined everything; it crushed all three of them.

Now all (Y/n) could feel was sorrow and worry and she didn't like it. (Y/n) wanted to go to this appointment- and hopefully more- and feel delighted and excited to see her baby on the screen and see them grow and get closer to having her baby. She didn't like feeling apprehensive and nervous and thinking that the worst was going to happen.

Her hand cradled her head when she sat in the jeep and slid down in her seat so she was slouched down.

She could still see the sorrow in Evan's watering eyes and she could see the hollow, broken expression on Eddie's face when he took Chris to one side to explain what was happening. They shouldn't of had to explain to a ten year old that the baby sister he thought he was going to get had passed away. Eddie shouldn't of had to explain that (Y/n) wouldn't be pregnant anymore.

That was why (Y/n) hadn't wanted to tell him yet, not until they had a few more appointments and knew for definite that nothing was going to go wrong.

"What're you thinking, baby?" Evan's voice was smooth like velvet, as if he too was drifting off into his own world in his mind.

Once they were on the road, Evan reached across and dared to press his palm over (Y/n)'s stomach. Like Eddie had said the other day, they needed to tell Chris after this appointment or he was going to work it out himself. He might see the scan photos the boys would have in their wallets and Evan wanted to pin one to the fridge. Chris would notice (Y/n) rushing off to the bathroom to be sick when she had morning sickness. He had already asked last week if she was okay when he saw her throw up.

He would see (Y/n)'s stomach started to become round soon enough, he would notice the cravings when he saw her eating different things and he would notice both dads being more cautious and careful around her. They had to tell him.

Evan was relieved when (Y/n) didn't brush off his touch and he felt shockwaves rattling down his arm when (Y/n) moved one hand to rest on top of his against her stomach.

"I don't want to know what we're having." Her voice was barely more than a whisper, but Evan heard her.

"I think we should."

He managed to look to the right and sneak a glance across at her, but he bit his lower lip when (Y/n) defiantly shook her head and closed her eyes. She seemed to shrink down more in her seat but Evan felt the way she pressed his palm down harder on her stomach. As if she was trying to reassure them both that there was actually a baby there and that they were okay.

"No." She shook her head again and began to glide her thumb over the back of Evan's hand to distract herself from the millions of thoughts rolling around in her head.

(Y/n) didn't want to find out. She didn't want to know if they were having a girl or a boy because it would cement things. Knowing they were having a girl would tell them that this pregnancy wasn't going to work out. But if they had a boy and (Y/n) lost them, then there was no chance of them ever having a baby together. That would prove that being a mother was too much of a challenge for (Y/n) to overcome, and she didn't want to deal with that news.

"Not knowing might worry you, sweetheart. You're already so nervous and it's gonna make you feel sick again. Why don't we find out, hm?"

Evan stroked his fingers across her stomach and moved to squeeze her hip before he slid his hand from her touch so he could change gear and turn off.

He and Eddie had been talking, they were both worried about their girl. They could see (Y/n) was happy about this pregnancy, but she was so panicked too, rightfully so. They wanted her to calm down, they wanted to be able to do something to help her relax and prove that this wasn't going to go wrong again. But they didn't know what they could do or what to say.

They had both agreed to try and do this one day at a time and keep reassuring her and make sure they both looked after her so there was minimal chance of anything going wrong.

"It's a boy… it has to be." (Y/n) looked down at her stomach and dragged her fingertips along her waist while she tilted her head to lean her cheek on Evan's bicep.

She felt the tension running through him but she didn't see the way he bit his lip to distort the flash of pain from his face.

He knew not knowing was going to make (Y/n) paranoid and if Evan was being honest, it would do the same for him. Eddie wasn't superstitious in any sense, but Evan was. He believed in signs and curses and things that couldn't be explained by science. And he knew (Y/n) believed she wouldn't be able to carry a girl.

And he knew that finding out they were having a girl would tip (Y/n) over the edge. But then again, if it was a boy, that would only cement things for (Y/n) that this would be okay.

It was a fifty-fifty chance of either breaking down or calming down and Evan didn't necessarily like those odds. He didn't want (Y/n) to become superstitious during this pregnancy, but he and Eddie both wanted her to be as calm and settled as possible to make sure she and the baby were okay.

"Let's not find out, we'll do this the old fashioned way." Maybe it would be the best way to go.

He reached out for her hand and raised her knuckles to his lips and he felt her squeeze his hand. He had ended that debate quickly to stop an argument and stop them from worrying.

(Y/n) couldn't feel her legs when Evan pulled up in a space and it was time to climb out the jeep. She wanted to keep driving around until every thought faded from her mind and it was time to go back home. When she realised her arms were trembling, she bound them around her waist and tucked herself up into Evan's side as soon as he was standing beside her.

His lips attached to the top of her head and his hand deadlocked on her hip as they headed towards the doors.

"There you are," A lopsided grin spread across Eddie's lips and he tucked his phone into his back pocket when his eyes landed on the pair of them heading his way. "Ready?"

He sucked in a deep breath when Evan rubbed his free hand along the back of his neck and lightly shook his head while his eyes darted down to their girlfriend. She was nervous.

It was written across her face and Eddie's grin faded into a tender, loving smile. His hand fell on Evan's shoulder and he pressed a quick kiss to his lips before he looked down at (Y/n). His fingers pressed beneath her chin, tilting her head up in his direction so he could steal a sweet kiss from her lips.

"It's all gonna be fine."

Evan's arm stayed around her waist while Eddie interlocked her left hand with his and walked on her other side. Being sandwiched between the pair of them made (Y/n) feel safe and protected and she felt like melting down into a puddle between them.

Her eyes trained on the floor and her head leaned on Eddie's arm while she let the pair of them steer her in the right direction. They all knew where they were going, they had been here often enough in the past.

When they signed in, the three of them looked around the waiting room. There were only two other couples waiting, that gave them good odds at being in and out of here- if everything went well.

Eddie ticked his head to the side, indicating to a row of seats but his brows furrowed when (Y/n) shook her head and stayed stood near the wall. She didn't want to sit down. If she sat down she wouldn't have the will to get back up again.

Both of them seemed to understand her plight because Evan's arm stayed looped around her waist and Eddie twisted around to face them both. He rested his left arm high up on the wall just above (Y/n)'s head and leaned over to kiss her temple every now and then. Becoming an effective wall, shielding her from having to look anywhere but at her boys.

The moment her name was called, Evan felt the shiver that rolled through her and he moved his hands down to cup her hips, keeping tight hold of her to try and calm her down.

"Off we go."

(Y/n) deadlocked her hands around Eddie's bicep and pressed her face into his arm while she felt Evan walking close behind her. His hands remained on her hips until they entered the room and when (Y/n) slumped down into one of the chairs and Eddie sat next to her, Evan stood behind them both. He leaned over, his hands on (Y/n)'s shoulders and his lips attached to the back of her head.

"Hi (Y/n), how are you doing?"

"Fine." Her hands fiddled on her lap until Eddie discreetly slid his hand onto her lap and held his palm out towards her. He didn't budge or even blink when (Y/n) began to trace her fingertips along his palm like she was writing secret messages to him. He knew she needed to burn some energy and keep herself occupied.

"Good, are you still having trouble with morning sickness?" The midwife's eyes mostly remained on the computer screen where she was presumably bringing up (Y/n)'s file and jotting notes down.

"A little, but it's okay."

It was manageable, and (Y/n) wouldn't make a fuss or grumble. She didn't care if she threw up all day and night or if this continued right up until labour. As long as she could have this baby, she would bear any cross she had to.

(Y/n) could feel her head swirling from the questions the midwife was asking. It felt like she was trying to prolong this and drag it out to make her feel worse. There seemed to be more questions than last time, but she was glad when Eddie and Evan chipped in every now and then.

"Alright, and you've had no worries, no spotting or pains at all?" The question caused (Y/n) to clench her hand down on Eddie's and she bristled in her seat.

Was the midwife expecting her to lose this baby as well? Was she preparing for the worst case scenario?

She could feel Eddie holding her hand just as tightly and Evan pecked the top of her head, muttering 'breathe' into her hair to try and coax her to stay calm. It was just a question; just a precaution that had to be asked. No one was expecting the worst.

"No."

"That's good. If we can pop you on the scales, take a quick measurement and then we can do the ultrasound." Her smile was understanding and a flash of sympathy crossed her eyes before she got up and motioned to the scales next to the door.

(Y/n) looked between both her men and found Eddie smiling at her with his free hand scratching down the stubble littering his jaw. And Evan ticked his head to the side, silently motioning for her to stand up, he would walk over there with her if she wanted him to.

Anxiety flooded her veins and she couldn't stop from fidgeting, whether it was her feet tapping or her hands drumming against her thighs. Her eyes darted to watch Evan to try and distract herself when she got on the scales and the midwife jotted down the numbers and her height.

Her hands began to tremble when she slowly reeled her shirt up so it bunched beneath her bra. She found herself looking around the room, desperate for something to focus on instead of the midwife who was stood very close in front of her to examine her stomach that hadn't changed that much yet. Her bumpw as barely visible.

She found herself watching Eddie who had suddenly moved from sitting down to leaning against the back of the chair. He had his arms crossed over his chest, one leg stretched out and a calming smile on his face as he nodded at her.

(Y/n) kept her eyes on him while the midwife checked and measured her stomach and her smile suggested everything seemed to be fine.

"Let's take a look then."

Her legs trembled when she slowly trailed behind the midwife towards the bed in the corner of the room. It was a relief to have both boys following behind her, but (Y/n) realised she was trembling rather badly when she got to the bed.

A whimper burned at the back of her throat and she flapped her hand out to the right until she managed to grab Eddie's hand. She reeled his hand close to her chest, unable to stop from stumbling into him while her other hand rapidly pointed towards her eyes. Her expression was stricken and Eddie's brows rose in panic when he noticed how shallow her breathing was and the way she kept squinting up at him.

"C-can't…" Her hand continued to shake in front of her eyes even as Eddie cupped her chin and tilted her head up towards him.

"Amor, it's just a blackout. You need to breathe deeply for me… come on let's sit down."

(Y/n) gasped when Eddie's hands slithered down to cup the back of her thighs and he expertly lifted her up until she was sitting on the bed just behind her. Once she was sat down with her legs swinging back and forth, Eddie cupped her face in his hands and tilted her head up so he could kiss her temple.

The sound of his breathing and the way he held his breath for three seconds at a time encouraged (Y/n) to do the same. And within thirty seconds, the black spots dancing across her eyes started to fade out and all the pixels formed a proper picture again.

"It's okay to be nervous." She didn't realise Evan was so close until she felt his hand stroking across her thigh.

"Perfectly normal, but let's get you lying down and comfortable, it'll help to relax you." The midwife patted her shoulder and smiled when Evan helped swing (Y/n)'s legs up onto the bed.

She did feel a bit better once she was sat up on the bed and she let herself lean back, keeping her shirt tucked into her bra so it was out the way.

Once the gel was on her stomach, (Y/n) grabbed Evan's hand and tugged him closer until he was stood beside her shoulder. She could feel Eddie moving around to stand near her hip, one hand on the bed and the other holding her thigh, squeezing her skin every other second like a mantra to calm them both down.

"I don't wanna look." (Y/n) hated how quiet her voice sounded as she snapped her eyes closed and turned her head towards Evan.

She grimaced when the sonogram pressed into her abdomen and she had to hold her breath to stop from gasping and blacking out again. This was as close as they got last time. Lots of prodding and poking only to be told everything was all in vain.

Her shoulders tensed and pulled up but she felt Eddie firmly pushing her thigh down when he automatically knew she was about to coil her knees up towards her stomach. Evan brought her hand to his lips and ran his free hand up and down her arm to try and coax her to calm down.

He wanted to scream when he saw the panic plastered across (Y/n)'s face and the way she squirmed and grimaced showed how panicked she was. She was expecting something to go wrong and it killed Evan to see her like this and to know that in the back of his mind, he was expecting the same thing.

It seemed too good to be true that they could actually have a baby this time. They had no problems getting pregnant, it was getting through the process where they seemed to hit the bumps in the road.

"And there's baby, right there."

She still couldn't look. Not when Evan tugged on her hand and tried to run his hand up and down her arm again to gain her attention. Not when she heard the little sound Eddie ellicited when he looked at the screen. She didn't want to open her eyes.

"Blood flow is good, placenta is in place… and you've got a very strong heartbeat there. Everything is perfect, (Y/n)."

When she opened her eyes, she found tears distorting her vision and it took another minute to brush them away and manage to see the screen. The heartbeat suddenly flooded the air and made all three of them shake and press together like they thought they were sharing the same dream.

They could all see it. That grey and black outline and the little but steady movement of the heart beating. They could all hear that melodic sound. They could each see that little baby lighting up the screen, curled up perfectly like they were having a little nap.

Their baby was right there, the heartbeat was strong and loud and overpowering. And when (Y/n) felt Evan moving their conjoined hands to brush the side of her stomach, she realised she was smiling through her tears.

It was still early days, none of them could get ahead of themselves just yet, but this was definitely an improvement. Things were progressing smoothly, they had no cause for concern and no reason to panic.

Everything was going in the right direction.

"That's our baby."

***

A quiet hum filled the air as Eddie bustled about the bedroom, opening drawers and stacking the laundry back in place. His head ticked along with the song stuck in the back of his head while he started layering the shirts in order of colour.

He knew Evan. As disorganised as he could bee, there were certain things that Evan liked to have in certain orders. He liked all their plain shirts to be folded in the drawers and in separate coloured piles. He liked their button up and ironed shirts hung up in an order in the wardrobe. Evan liked the bedding to be folded and set in vertical rows in the bed drawer or else he would take them out and reorganise them.

Both (Y/n) and Eddie had learned very quickly how to organise the bedroom so it didn't irritate Evan. They all had their quirks and little ways and all three of them learned their dynamics so they could all help each other.

Eddie continued to hum but as he opened the middle drawer and started to put the pyjamas away, a smile flickered across his lips. He stopped humming and paused what he was doing when he felt a pair of hands on his waist.

His smile broadened when he felt (Y/n)'s hands slither around from his waist so her arms were encircled around his torso with her hands pressing against his abdomen. He couldn't help the way he shivered when she pressed her face into his back between his shoulder blades and he could feel each soft breath she took.

"Hi baby." He leaned back into her a little more so he could finish putting the pyjamas away and when he shut the drawer, he remained in place.

His hand reached down to rub up and down the back of (Y/n)'s hand but when he didn't receive a response, Eddie craned his head over his shoulder to try and get a peek at her. She was breathing softly into his shirt which told him she wasn't upset or annoyed or seeking something in particular.

"You okay, amor?" He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and waited to see if she needed anything.

"Hm."

"Good." He felt the way she sighed softly into his shirt and it made him wriggle in her arms at the touch. He waited another moment before he turned and slowly walked towards the bed to grab the rest of the washing while (Y/n) stayed attached to his back like a baby monkey.

Her arms stayed deadlocked around his waist and she twisted her face so her cheek was pressed against his back rather than her whole face. When Eddie leaned over, (Y/n) leaned with him and he grinned when he felt her press into him a little more until her bump was pressed between them.

When he was done with the washing, Eddie gave her hand a final squeeze before he turned around in her arms. His head tilted to one side and he narrowed his eyes when he looked down at her. There was something behind (Y/n)'s eyes that made his heart quicken; he wasn't sure what it was, but it made him worry.

His hands reached down and gently cupped her face so he could tilt her head back, allowing him to look down at her properly. While (Y/n)'s arms stayed around his torso with her palms now pressing into his back like she was keeping him pressed up against her in case he tried to pull away.

"What's up baby?" His thumbs swiped across her cheekbones and beneath her eyes while he darted his eyes up and down her frame as if checking for injuries or any distress signs.

"I…" She swallowed deeply and darted her eyes down. She didn't want to say it.

Her lips rolled together into a thin line and her eyes stayed focused on Eddie's chest until he gently tilted her head back a bit more and swooped down to steal a kiss. The touch took her by surprise but the feeling of his warm lips on hers distracted her from all the thoughts rushing around in her head.

(Y/n) kept her eyes closed for a few more seconds when Eddie finally pulled back and let her catch her breath. When she looked up at him, she saw one of those heartwarming smiles on his face, one that always managed to reassure her in any situation.

The look in his eyes was silently telling her to talk. She knew he wouldn't judge or laugh or roll his eyes at anything she said or asked him, but she still felt nervous about what she wanted to say.

Her eyes trained down on his chest again while she unravelled her arms from his torso so she could reach up to hold his wrists where his hands were still cupping her face.

Intrigue flooded Eddie's eyes as he watched (Y/n) pull his hands away from her face, but she stayed standing close enough to him that their breaths mingled together. He watched intently as (Y/n) lowered his hands down until both palms were cupping her stomach. Eddie took a deep breath, unable to stop himself from stepping closer until he was pressing into her bump and his thumbs gently stroked up and down her skin over her top.

"I- I haven't felt anything, for a while. Check them… please?"

The look in Eddie's eyes softened like melting chocolate and his smile broadened when (Y/n) had been expecting him to laugh or shake his head and tell her she was being silly.

The quiet "Okay," that he murmured against her temple made (Y/n)'s stomach flutter with adrenaline and she squeezed his wrists.

He didn't want her to worry. If she asked him to check on the baby then that's what Eddie would do. There was nothing silly about why (Y/n) was panicking and Eddie knew if it would calm her down, he would always take a look and try to check on the baby for her.

His hands stayed firmly on her stomach and (Y/n) took a sharp breath when Eddie suddenly started to walk her backwards. She kept her hands on his forearms and slowly shuffled back until she felt the end of the bed behind her knees and Eddie nudged her to sit down.

Her head tilted to one side, curiosity burning within her eyes as she watched Eddie tower over her and she felt his hands moving along her skin. He scrunched his fingers up in her shirt- which he knew was one of Evan's lounge shirts- and started to tug.

"This is in the way," He murmured against the shell of her ear, pulling back just enough to pull the shirt over her head. He tossed it somewhere on the bed behind her and moved his hands down to her stomach that was now exposed to his prying eyes.

Eddie nudged his nose against (Y/n)'s, angling her head just right so he could kiss her lips.

(Y/n) shuddered when she felt Eddie's lips leave hers and peck the corner of her mouth, then the tip of her jaw. Her arms trembled from the shiver that tore down her spine when Eddie grazed his teeth across her neck like he was debating whether to bite down and leave a mark or not.

He seemed to decide on leaving a tiny mark before he switched to leaving hollow, open-mouthed kisses down her skin as his hands gripped her thighs and he crouched down.

She pressed her knees into his chest as Eddie crouched down in between her thighs with his hands periodically squeezing her thighs like he was reminding himself of something or trying to keep some sense of control.

(Y/n) didn't know what to do with her hands so she settled for dancing them across Eddie's shoulders, with her head tilted to one side as she watched him start to move. His hands left her thighs and travelled up to her stomach like he had just remembered she had asked him to do something. To check on the baby.

He started to press the heel of his hands around her bump that was finally starting to round out and get into shape. They'd never gotten past this stage before. This was as much as her stomach had ever changed. (Y/n) seemed to just start to show and get a proper shape, and then things went wrong. She just started to feel kicks and movements and wriggles and then it was all gone and she was left empty and hollow.

She liked the way both Eddie and Evan seemed to reach out for her stomach during the night now. She was getting used to waking up with either a hand or a protective arm draped over her bump.

"They're lying properly," Eddie whispered and leaned forward to kiss the centre of her bump. "Head is over here… so we should feel some kicking round here."

He pressed his fingertips around a little more and circled the area where he felt the feet were. He pressed his lips over her stomach before his hands shifted to press down into the mattress either side of her hips so he could push himself up. He hovered between her thighs again, leaning up enough so he could steal her lips away in another tender kiss.

Whenever (Y/n) started to get nervous, Eddie would make a show of checking how the baby was laid and waiting with her until she finally felt them wriggling or felt a kick. He knew that last time (Y/n) hadn't felt or noticed anything go wrong and that had come as a great shock to find out the baby had passed when she felt fine.

Now that they were starting to feel movements, (Y/n) panicked any time she hadn't felt anything for a while. It was understandable and Eddie and Evan would calm her down any time she panicked, like today.

"Still hasn't moved," (Y/n) looked down at her stomach and danced her fingertips over the side of her stomach.

Usually when Eddie started to prod around and check on the baby, it made (Y/n) nervous and fuelled with adrenaline and it got the baby moving. That was all she wanted. She just wanted the baby to constantly move and kick or just make a little tiny movement so she knew they were okay and all three of them could be reassured.

Eddie's fingers pressed beneath her chin so she was once again looking up at him.

"Since when?" There was no annoyance or irritation in his tone, only love. And it made (Y/n) feel calm. He wasn't annoyed that she was asking him again and he wasn't telling her she was being silly for getting worried.

"Before dinner, it's been a while."

"Okay, stay there." His lips pecked her temple before he got to his feet and headed out the room.

(Y/n)'s eyes followed him as he left the room and her hands danced across her stomach while she wondered what he was up to. He had vanished from the room to go and get something or to go and do something, but (Y/n) wasn't sure what he was thinking. Usually they waited around for the baby to move. Maybe he was going to grab a drink, sometimes cold water made the baby liven up.

The nerves in her chest ignited again when she watched Eddie waltz back into the room with a grin on his face and a stethoscope hanging around his neck like a chain.

"Let's double check."

(Y/n) wasn't sure why they had a stethoscope in the medical cupboard but she figured one of the boys had brought it home from work. God knows Eddie and Evan were always getting into accidents and getting colds so it was handy to have that around the house for those little emergencies.

With a deep breath, (Y/n) leaned back and planted her hands down behind her on the bed to prop herself up. Her head tilted to the right and her eyes stayed intently zoomed in on Eddie as he crouched between her thighs again and took the time to kiss her stomach.

She loved how calm and collected he was and how he looked like he was a medic on shift again when he set it in his ears and moved the stethoscope around (Y/n)'s stomach.

She couldn't help but reach one hand out to run the pad of her finger across his freshly shaved jaw when his head tilted to one side. He looked like he was in the zone in his own little world and the hint of a smile on his face made (Y/n) want to drag him up to her and kiss him. But the way his smile brightened and pushed up into his cheeks made her hold her breath.

She watched as Eddie carefully unhooked the stethoscope from his ears and reached up to set them in hers instead.

"Nice and strong, don't you think?"

There it was. (Y/n) could hear it. That steady drumbeat that sounded like someone tapping on the window, periodically thumping away like the best song they had ever heard.

"Probably just having a nap, nothing to worry about, mi amor." Eddie's free hand moved to cradle the side of her bump and he leaned up to peck her lips again.

"He's okay."

"Baby, it might not be a boy." The warning tone in Eddie's voice made (Y/n) shiver and take a sharp breath as he reached over her and took the stethoscope from her ears after a minute. He couldn't resist from having another listen but that warning look of one brow arched and his lips pursed stayed on Eddie's face. Even while he reached over to slump the stethoscope on the bedside table.

(Y/n) cast her eyes down while she shuffled back on the bed until she was sat in the middle with her legs stretched out and her eyes focused on her lap.

She thought Eddie would of carried on wandering around the room, tidying up like he had been doing before she distracted him. But she was surprised to find him crawling onto the bed with her- more specifically, on top of her.

His knees pressed down into her hips so he was hovering over her lap with her effectively trapped beneath him. And he sank back on his heels while his hands reached out to cup her face and he leaned over, meshing his chest down into hers so he could snatch a kiss.

"I wouldn't get this far if it was a girl."

The broken look that filtered across (Y/n)'s eyes tore at something in his chest and his hands tensed against her face as he kissed her, swallowing her words like he wanted to snatch them from her mind. (Y/n) felt his tongue tracing her lower lip and the way his chest tensed and pressed down into hers.

They were twenty-three weeks along now. This was the furthest they had gotten and (Y/n) couldn't help but believe that was because they might be having a boy. Sometimes it felt as if her body knew the boys were desperate for a daughter and therefore evicted any girls she tried to have.

"Mi amor I told you, me and Buck are gonna take good care of you. We might have a girl in here, but even if it is a boy, nothing bad is gonna happen this time. I swear. Okay?"

(Y/n) nodded quickly and moved her hands to cup his wrists, tracing her thumbs over the back of his hands while she grazed her teeth along his lower lip.

Whatever this baby was, (Y/n) had to keep them safe.

[rogueddie]

When Steve wakes up, he is very confused. His room looks very different and unfamiliar- but he knows it's his. It still has the plaid wallpaper his mom had picked out for him (he hadn't liked it, but there was a lot of lines and pretty colors).

The toy car his babysitter, Sarah, had gotten him for his fifth birthday isn't on his dresser anymore. He knows that she'd left it there for him last night, playfully insisting that he couldn't play with it until his actual birthday.

He'd been so excited to play with it. He wants to cry, and wail. He wants to run to his parents and scream until they give it back.

But they aren't home. That's why his babysitter had been over the previous night. They have a very important business trip that they aren't allowed to miss, not even for Steve's birthday.

The pictures in the hall look different too. Sarah had put up some cool pictures for him. She'd done the same for his fourth birthday. They had to take them down at the end of the day, but it had been nice to have family pictures up. Even if it was just for a day.

Sarah isn't downstairs.

He almost does scream this time. She'd promised that she'd stay the night, sleeping on the sofa, so he could have pancakes for breakfast. It's one of the many things that he can't, or isn't allowed, to make on his own.

His cake isn't in the fridge either. He even pulls a chair over so he can climb on it, to see if she'd hidden it on one of the higher shelves.

He sits on one of the dining chairs, watching the clock, and waiting.

After two hours pass, he gives up any hope he has.

Sarah, just like his parents, is probably too busy for him. He reasons that she probably just forgot to tell him. His mom had done that one time- it had stung, but he couldn't blame her. He forgot lots of stuff, even if it is important.

The only cereal in the pantry is some plain, corn brand that he doesn't recognise. It tastes just as bad as it looks, but there isn't a lot of food anymore.

At least, not a lot that he can make.

He has a second bowl, putting a few spoons of sugar in. It's not much better, but he doesn't feel so hungry anymore.

The TV looks different too. There's weird and new things playing. It's fun, interesting, and distracts him well enough that he's able to keep himself from worrying about how long he'll have to be alone again.

The next day goes the same.

The third day, he risks cooking. It ends up a little burnt, but it's better than cereal all the time.

The fourth day, he can't eat the food he tries to cook. It smells too nasty. He has to have cereal again. The sugar helps.

The fifth day, he doesn't risk cooking. His parents have never left him alone, without a babysitter, for more than a week, so he'll have a nice meal soon.

The sixth day, he checks their voicemail. There's a few odd messages from grown up sounding people, asking about how he's feeling, but he doesn't recognise any of their voices. He doesn't know what numbers he should try calling. He hopes they try calling again.

The seventh day, he sits at the bottom of the stairs. He stares at the front door, ready to jump up and give his mom and dad a warm welcome home.

The eighth day, he's starting to worry. Surely his parents will remember to call a different babysitter?

The ninth day, there's a key in the door. He almost misses it, sat in the kitchen, glaring at his cereal.

"Steve!" Someone calls. It sounds like one of the nice, unfamiliar grown ups who left a voicemail message. "Stevie! You here? How are- oh my god."

"Hi," Steve greets. He waves, tries giving his most polite smile. He almost forgets to keep his lips shut- his dad told him that his teeth don't look nice enough for a grin that big yet. "You're one of the nice people who left me a message, right?"

She stares at him for a long moment, mouth hanging open. "Steve?"

"That's me! What's your name?"

"Robin."

He sticks a hand out to her. "I's nice to meet you Miss Robin!"

"Yeah," she replies, voice high and thin. Her hand is trembling when she gently shakes his hand. "I'm... gonna need to use your phone. Real quick, ok?"

"Um... ok. But you can't make long distance calls, mommy will be very mad at me." He bites his thumb nail, following her into the hall. "Are you a babysitter? Is Sarah sick?"

"Sarah?" Robin echoes, questioningly. She's only half paying attention though, pushing in a phone number.

"My babysitter. She was supposed to be here for my birthday."

"It's your birthday?" She chokes out, spinning around so fast she stumbles. She looks heartbroken.

"Not anymore! It's ok, you don't need to be sad. She gave me my present early too, so it was good."

"Wait. How long have you been... what have you been eating?"

"Um. Cereal, mostly. All the food is different. It's weird."

"That's not- oh, hi," she turns away slightly, talking to whoever is on the phone. "Yeah, I'm at Steve's right now. Gather, like, everyone. We have a major emergency."

"No!" Steve quickly says. He tugs at the bottom of her top. "Not an emergency! You can't say that, you'll get me in trouble!"

"You don't understand, this is-"

"No, please," he pleads. He can only hope he won't get in trouble for talking back to her. "I'm sorry."

"Ok, ok, alright," she agrees. She pauses for a second, listening. "No, that was Steve. Yeah, exactly, that's why-"

"Tell them it isn't an emergency. Please. If dad hears, I'll be in big trouble."

"Ok, big guy. It's not an emergency. Just... yeah, do that. Yeah. Alright. No, I'll be fine. I can deal with it. Ok, see you soon."

She hangs up with a sigh, turning to look at him. She still looks sad.

"Are you ok, Miss Robin?"

Her laugh sounds strained, but she laughs. "I'm alright. How are you?"

"I'm ok. Do you know when mommy and daddy will be back?"

"I don't. I'm sorry, Stevie."

"It's ok. It's only, like... I can't really, uh, cook."

"I can make you something. What's your fave? It was your birthday, you said? Let's get you something special! How old are you?"

He stumbles a little, trying to keep up with her fast talking as well as he long strides. "I'm five. Sarah was going to make me pancakes."

"We can do pancakes." She searches the cupboards and fridge, frowning. "Where is anything?"

"I dunno. I looked but everything is all gone or weird."

"Well... we'll just have to have pancakes later. Special pancakes, for the special birthday boy."

"I guess."

She steps close, putting her hands on her hips as she looks him over. "Are you sure you're five? Did you hit your growth spurt early? You're getting real big."

"I dunno. Mommy says I'm gonna be tall and be a real ladies man, or something."

"Do you even know what that means?"

"Not really. Mommy thinks it's cool though."

"Hm. Are you too big to pick up?"

"Oh, you're not supposed to. Daddy says I'm a big boy now. Big boys don't get picked up."

"Your dad's an asshole."

Steve giggles, quickly covering his mouth with both hands. "You're not supposed to say that! It's a naughty word!"

"Supposed to do this, supposed to do that," she tutts. She leans down, scooping him up into her arms, resting him on her hip. "Your five, stop being so boring!"

Her hand feels so big on his back, like there's no way he could fall with her holding him. She doesn't even seem to mind his hand automatically grabbing the collar of her shirt.

"Daddy doesn't like it when people pick me up."

"What do you like? Hm? Do you want me to put you down?"

"... No."

"Then I'm not putting you down. Daddy isn't here to tell us off, is he? And what he doesn't know, can't hurt him."

She bounces him a few times, making him giggle. Judging by her satisfied grin, that was her aim.

It confuses him, a little. Mostly because she keeps doing that- little things, little comments, trying to make him laugh. Trying to make him smile. Even just listening to him talk about things. Little things. Silly things. Like she isn't annoyed when he goes on, and on, and on.

By the time another person comes in, he's decided that she's the best person in the whole wide world. If she puts him down or tries to leave, he's going to throw a tantrum.

He knows it's bad, but he doesn't want her to leave too. She's cool.

"Oh, God. Robin, please tell me that the baby isn't Steve."

"He's five," Robin corrects. "And yes, it's Steve. I checked, it's him."

"What the hell happened to him?"

"I don't know, I called you!"

"Is something wrong with me?" Steve asks, voice quiet and timid.

"No!" Robin quickly tries to say, at the same time the man says, "yes, obviously."

"Dustin!" Robin scolds.

"What? Lying to him won't help!"

"Neither will being a dick about it!" She tutts at him, adjusting Steve in her arms when she looks to him. "It's nothing, like, bad. It's just kinda weird. See, when we saw you, a week ago... you were a little bit older than me. And now you're five."

Steve stares at her for a moment. She looks too serious, too honest.

"Weird," he says.

"Exactly," she agrees. "From what you've said, though, it's not that bad. You're still you, and you're healthy. You're just... not so big."

"Maybe El can fix him," Dustin mutters, squinting at Steve. He leans close. "When did this happen?"

"He's been like this for a week," Robin tells him. Her voice is quiet, almost scared- it doesn't help that Dustin looks horrified too. "At least."

"Who's been taking care of him?"

"No one."

"What the hell," Dustin turns his frown on Steve. "Why didn't you call anyone?"

"Not supposed to unless it's a real emergency," Steve says. "Mommy says she has a repo... rep... rep-yuh-tay-shun. It's a big thing."

Dustin looks heartbroken, turning to Robin, who shrugs back at him. He groans after a pause, frowning at Robin. "Shit. You can't drive."

"Oh, shit."

"I'll call Eddie," Dustin sighs, already heading to the hall.

"Who's Eddie?" Steve asks.

"Eddie's a friend. He looks a little scary, but don't worry. He's a big softie, an absolute teddy bear." She leans close, whispering loudly with a grin. "Don't tell him I told you, though. He likes to pretend that he's all tough and mean."

"And he's... not mean?"

"Not a cruel bone in his body."

"Ok," he bites at his thumb, frowning when Robin gently pulls his hand out his mouth. "You won't leave though, right?"

"I'm not going anywhere."

"You gotta promise, though! Pinky Promise!" He lifts a hand, sticking his pinky up- Robin almost immediately wraps her own around his.

"I promise I won't leave you. Who knows what could happen if I leave you alone with the gremlins." She pretends to shudder. "Oh, the horrors.."

"He'll be here in five minutes," Dustin announces.

"That's... quick."

"Yeah. I barely got out 'Steve is in trouble' before he hung up."

"Maybe don't start like that next time," Robin rolls her eyes. She adjusts Steve again, trying to sit him higher on her hip. "He's probably breaking at least, like, five speeding laws or something."

"I don't think that's how it works."

"Whatever." She huffs. "Jesus. Steve, bud, I might need to put you down for a sec."

"Oh... um... do you have to?"

"My arms are really starting to hurt, bud," she says. She looks as upset at the idea as he feels. "Maybe we could sit down together. Would that be a good compromise?"

"Yeah!" He grins. "What's a comp- compa-"

"Com-pruh-mise." She says it slowly, careful to sound it out, as she sits down on the sofa. She pulls Steve around so he's sat on her knees, facing her. She keeps one hand on his back, supporting him.

"Com-pa-mise," Steve repeats.

"Oh, that was great!" Robin encourages, laughing at how big and excited Steves responding grin is. "Well, compromise is when..."

Robin is so patient with him, taking her time with him, making sure he understands what she's saying- before easily jumping onto whatever tangent he brings up.

It feels like only a few minutes have passed by the time the doorbell rings. Dustin stands to answer- Steve had completely forgotten he was there the whole time, too caught up in his conversation with Robin.

He doesn't come back for a moment. Steve can hear muttering, straining to hear what they're saying, but the living room doors shut.

A man follows him inside. He's tall, with long hair and dark clothes. He looks different to anyone Steve has ever seen before. He looks scary.

"Oh god," he mumbles, frowning at Steve. "You're not joking."

Steve tugs at Robins sleeve, leaning close to her, whispering, "who's that?"

"Oh, right!" Robin groans when she stands, lifting Steve with her. "Steve, this is Eddie. Eddie, this is Steve."

"This is Steve," Eddie repeats. "Jesus Christ."

"Why do you look so scary?" Steve blurts out. He slaps a hand over his mouth, horrified.

But Eddie just laughs. "Damn, Stevie, tell me what you really think."

"You do!" Steve snaps, face warming. "All the black and chains and stuff."

"Robin is wearing 'black and chains and stuff'."

"Yeah, but Robins cool."

"You wound me," Eddie gasps, slapping a hand to his chest. "I'm totally cooler than Robin."

"Nope," Robin quickly cuts in. "Steve said I'm cool, not you. It's been said, declared- no, decreed! Facts are facts, Eds, suck on it!"

"Ew," Steve and Eddie say in sync, grimacing.

"Alright," Dustin interrupts, hands on his hips. "You're introduced, now can we go? Now?"

Part two

[chronicbeans]

Yandere Platonic Alastor x Victim Reader

You got killed by him when you both were alive, because you accidentally ended up witnessing him burying a body. Unknowingly, because neither of you recognized each other in Hell, you both became friends... Now the memories are returning.

TW: Death, Murder, Cannibalism (again, this is Alastor), Fear and Anxiety, Invasion of Privacy/Personal Space, Stalking, Manipulation, Yandere Behavior (Upped to more than usual, for Alastor)

• You remember how you died relatively well. Back in the 1920s, you decided to go on a nighttime walk in the woods... well, more like heavily wooded swamps of New Orleans, only to stumble across a man burying a body in the ground. You panicked, which alerted him, and you got shot. That's the gist of it. You don't know who did it, you don't know why he killed that person he was burying, but you have always vowed revenge on the person who did it.

• However, you decided to try to redeem yourself, still. You entered the Hazbin Hotel, being led in by an excited Charlie, only to then be met with Alastor. You recognized his voice as one you heard on a radio show, when you were alive... and when you asked, he confirmed your suspicions that it was him who was the host! You were surprised, and although you never met him in life, you were comforted by at least having someone from your time period here.

• And as such, you mostly stuck by him. Although you wouldn't call him a friend. It was more like he was a familiar presence for you. Sure, he was the Radio Demon, but he hadn't shown any hostility towards you. So, in your opinion, there was no need for concern or fear. He never seems to mind, either. The most he does is stare at you or ask why you spend so much time with him, and you always be truthful.

• In truth, although he doesn't want to admit it, he enjoys your company. Alastor views you as a sort of lost soul who needs guidance... and by that, it means he wants to take your soul. You seem a bit naive to his true nature, so you'd be relatively easy to trick, yeah? You may not be strong or a good tool to use, but keeping you on a leash would be nice, in his opinion. It's not everyday he finds someone from not only his time period, but his area! You're like a little rare gem, who brings him nostalgia.

• He's proven wrong, however, as you deny his offer for a deal. So, he was proven wrong. You're smart enough to deny his offer for a deal... Which, although he is irritated, he has to applaud you for. You're smart, and he loves smart people! It beats the idiotic brawn he often interprets many of the inhabitants of Hell to be run by, which he despises. So, although he never gets to own your lovely soul, he earns more respect for you as a person rather than just a nostalgic memory from the past. Seeing people less as people, such as viewing them as tools or objects for his own enjoyment, is a problem he has... One that you've gotten past due to being a bit more intelligent than some of the other sinners, and gained his respect as a person.

• The more time you spend together, the more you two become friends... Sure, it takes a long time, but it eventually happens. You find him to have his own sort of charm underneath the eerie exterior, and he sees you as someone at the hotel who really understands him and where he comes from. Sure, Mimzy is also someone who he sees similarly since they were friends in life, but she is rarely at the Hazbin Hotel, if ever. You're a guest of the establishment, though, so he can hang around with you more often.

• Though... you are beginning to have... memories coming back. Alastor sounds a bit like the man who killed you, so you have been thinking about your killer. It's been becoming distressing, because you are worried about meeting him in Hell. Sure, you want revenge, but you are not a very strong demon. There's about a 50/50 chance he might be stronger than you. It's gotten to the point where you decide to confide in Charlie about it. She decides that, the next day, she'd have everyone do art therapy with the task of drawing their greatest stressor. Of course, with your permission, of course...

• So, you alongside the other residents start the next day making art while eating breakfast. You all are not exactly sure who is going to be participating in the sharing process Charlie wants to try out, but you know you sure as Hell won't. You only plan to share it with Charlie... and maybe Alastor. You're not sure, yet.

• You doodle what you remember your killer looking like, the body he was burying, alongside the area you died in. Then, once you're done, you bring it over to Charlie. She seems a little disheartened, as if upset that the situation still impacts you to this day, but supportive. Then, she suggests that you could show it to Alastor. Maybe he will recognize him? And, if anybody could protect you if you do meet your killer in Hell, it'd be him. To be honest, you didn't even think of the fact that Alastor might recognize him!

• Now excitedly, you go to find Alastor. You notice that he also seems to be participating in the workshop. It is probably the first time you've seen him participate in one, but you always suspected he'd join in on one that involves drawing, since he had mentioned enjoying doodling things from time to time. You don't peek at it, considering the challenge is to draw what stresses you, but from the brief glimpse you get you see a bunch of chains.

• "Alastor! Hi! Charlie recommended I show you my drawing, in case you can help me... would you be willing to take a look?" He looks over to you, grinning widely. His first few thoughts are about how he can use whatever problem you have to try, once again, to sucker a deal from you. So, he nods his head rather quickly. "Of course, dear! Anything for a friend."

• You show him your picture, explaining that it's the man who killed you... only for his face to suddenly go pale. He's grinning, like always, but you can tell something is wrong. "Alastor? You okay?" For a few moments, he's quiet, before he snaps out of it. "Ah, yes, dear! I'm fine! The man is um... familiar to me. I just need to try to remember who he is... I'll let you know if I remember."

• He may sound calm, but inside, he's panicking. It's him. It's him. He killed you. He remembers who you were, too, considering the scenery. That, and you decided to keep your name. You were the one victim he didn't plan to kill. The only one that he felt a little remorse for, since you didn't fit the criteria of his usual victims. He killed based off of his weird morals, so killing someone who he usually wouldn't have hit him a bit. So much so, even in Hell, his mind wandered to you from time to time... Now, you're here, and you don't recognize him.

• By a little remorse, he means much more than he'd like to admit. He may be the cruel, sadistic Radio Demon, but back when he was human he still had a bit more care for others. That, and in Hell, it's a lot easier to find people who fit his murderous criteria he had when he was alive. So, although he doesn't go by that code as much in Hell, he still believes you didn't deserve it. You just were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and he couldn't let a witness live.

• Meanwhile, you're completely oblivious to his internal panic. All you're noticing is that, as the days go by, he's keeping a closer and closer eye on you. While you would usually go and seek him out, now, you don't need to! It's his turn to do the seeking! Though, it is odd how he seems to know where you are all the time... That, and he's been knocking on your door the second after you wake up, almost like he's some sort of psychic, or something!

• Now, while Alastor is usually more obsessive and possessive when it comes to relationships, to the point where one may say he's a yandere by default... When Alastor actually is a yandere? You're screwed. Those behaviors are upped to the max. There's no escaping him.

• He's spying on you, yes. He normally would. Now, though, it's almost constantly. From your room, to the store, to the park, to anywhere else you go. He's a lot more obvious about it, too. He'd normally let you have other friends, but in this case, you're not allowed. Well, you are, but he will actively try to get you to not trust them. What if they're your killer? The only exception would be the others at the Hazbin Hotel, since he wants you to stay there. If you're too scared, you might leave, and it'd make it harder to find you to stalk you.

• He's also going to try to make deals with you much more often, now. Little ones at first, though, that don't involve your soul. If he gets you this, you have to get him that. If he does this, you need to do that. Small things, to slowly build you up to the big deal he plans to have you agree to. Like a frog in boiling water. You throw it into hot water it'll jump out, but if you slowly turn up the heat, it'll stay put until the end. You probably don't even notice the deals increasing in intensity.

• And so, when he approaches you with a deal one day, you aren't surprised. However, he knows this one is too good to pass up! Or, at least, it sounds too good until you agree. "Dear, I've figured out who your killer is! Though, I want to make a deal. I'll tell you who it is and make sure you're safe, and in return, you give me your soul. Now, before you disagree, think about it. If I have your soul, I can protect you much easier, as I'll be more connected to you. That, and they can't steal it from you and hurt you more than if they did have it. So, is it a deal?" He's made his points... and you're now so used to intense deals, that you agree to it, despite your unease. Giving up your soul is a big thing, but he's your friend, hasn't hurt you, and from what it sounds like... he wouldn't hurt you once he has your soul. It's to protect you, yeah?

• Once you do, shaking his hand to seal the deal, he immediately lets you in on his secret. His grip moves from your hand to your wrist, his grin wide as he speaks calmly. "Do not panic, dear. I did it. I killed you, because you saw something you shouldn't have." And with that, all his true colors are revealed. He admits to everything, from the stalking, to the obsessions, and to his true reason for wanting your soul: to keep you close.

• You, for one, are terrified. Your worst fear is realized. Your killer is stronger than you - a literal overlord- and now owns your soul. Your leash is much tighter and shorter than Husk's, too. You're constantly being dragged around by him. He shows you off, as if you are some sort of trophy. He probably brings you everywhere he goes, even to Cannibal Town and meetings, so you aren't out of his sight.

• If you try to get away from him, he will literally drag you back. Then, he's going to be holding onto your shoulder tightly for the next few hours. It's his passive aggressive way of saying "I'm not afraid to hurt you", without actually saying anything... As if you getting dragged by a chain wrapped around your throat wasn't enough to prove it.

• You are, in your own way, treated a bit better than Husk. That is, as long as you actually go along with his insanity. If you act good, he'll treat you to food- no, not the raw meat and demon flesh he eats. Foods that you actually like. He'll make sure you have the best room in the hotel. He'll even, begrudgingly, let you have a television. If you aren't so nice, though, he'll basically take away everything. The food you eat will be what he eats, you're probably going to be in his room so he can keep an eye on you, and there will be no technology allowed other than radio and things that came before it. The most you'll get is to be allowed to sleep in his bed, while he sleeps on one of the chairs in his room (that is, if he doesn't stay up all night to watch you).

• Charlie probably isn't aware of any of this. The most she might notice is that you two are hanging out more often, and that Alastor was your killer. However, she truly believes he can be redeemed, especially since your murder wasn't something he wanted. So, she won't question it, and believes a lot of the things Alastor says to explain your odd behavior. "They're a bit nervous, still, but we're working it all out." "They've been staying in my room because the prefer it there." "They got rid of their phone because they realized they were getting a bit addicted to social media." Whenever you try to say anything, though, you feel a slight tug on your chain, which keeps you quiet about it. Stupid deal...

• You aren't going anywhere. He's doing all of this with the goal of making it all up for you, in his own twisted way. Especially since he's now learned that you are the exact opposite of the type of person he would kill. If you act good, you'll see! He'll give you mostly everything you want. He'll shower you in apologies for your death, give you gifts, and maybe let you have some alone time... He just gets a little more than frustrated when you try to leave... Please, he's been waiting for this opportunity for years, so just let him apologize for killing you... Even if his apology lasts for all of eternity.