#DO YOU THINK “THANK YOU FOR THIS” WAS HIM REALIZING JON CARED. I THINK SO | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

feyhunter78 · 8 months ago

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Chapter Seven - Back in the Red Keep, you and Jon face a new set of challenges. Note: I think R + L = J is soooo boring and basic, so I'm throwing in a theory that's been floated around online for a hot minute

Ch 8

“He saved me cousin, he could have left me to be assaulted and killed by the crowd, could have escaped with his traitorous family members, but he stayed and saved me.” You add, lowering your eyes submissively, you hate this, hate playing this role, but you cannot lose Jon.

Joffrey looks at your aunt then grandsire who nods. “Very well, you may keep your dog, cousin.”

You curtsy, thanking Joffrey over and over again, spilling out platitudes that makes bile rise in your throat. Dog, he called Jon a dog, your Jon, your champion, your defender, the one who chased after you instead of his father and sister.

“But I want him kept on a leash, if I see him sniffing around, his head will substitute for his father’s on the spikes of the gate.” Joffrey warns, that cruel smile spreading across his face once more.

You nod and thank him again, before taking Jon by the wrist and dragging him out of the throne room.

Once you both are safely in your chambers, you collapse onto the rug near the fire, Ghost getting up and trotting over to Jon.

Jon buries his hand in Ghost’s fur, letting out a shaky breath.

“I am so very sorry, Jon.” You look up at him from your place by the fire, feeling completely in disarray.

“I am still alive.” He says, unable to look at you, the tension clear in every aspect of his very being.

He stands stiff, his chest rising and falling as he forces his breath in and out to calm himself, his eyes stay locked on Ghost, his head bowed, his inky curls falling forward shielding his face.

“But you are separated from your family, and you had to endure Joffrey speaking of you as a dog.” You say softly as you begin to remove the pins from your hair, letting it fall free.

Jon settles down beside you, holding his hand out for the pins. “I have endured much worse than being called a dog.”

You both sit in silence for a while as you undo your intricate hairstyle, the one your aunt favored, the one you thought would endear her to you. Jon takes each pin from you, setting them in a neat pile on the end table. This is routine, something you and Jon have done time and time again, and while it is calming, you know it is not normal. That sworn swords do not sit beside their charge and help them undo their hair, that they stand guard outside their door while the servants undo their charge’s hair.

But you had seen your Aunt Cersei and Uncle Robert do it once, when you were very young. And though he was not her sworn sword but her husband, as a child you found it hard to tell the difference, husbands were supposed to protect their wives, as sworn swords were it seemed so similar. It was a good day, they were getting along, and as he escorted her back to her chambers you spotted them.

Your aunt, heavily pregnant with Myrcella, pulling out the pins, your uncle taking them, helping her detangle the stubborn ones. He was smiling, and she was too, a small one, her expression soft and open, thanking him quietly when he gently ran his fingers through her hair. For a moment you believed the act they put on in public, for if this is how they acted in private, surely it was true? It was not until you were older that you realized you were wrong.

“Is what your father said true?” You ask Jon, detangling your hair with your fingers, careful not to pull too hard.

He sighs and leans forward stirring the fire with the iron poker, his armor now fully discarded and set aside against the far wall. “I believe it to be.”

“If Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen are bastards, ones born of incest they will never be able to inherit Casterly Rock, and Uncle Jaime cannot because he is a Kingsguard, my grandsire would not be able to give it to my aunt since she is the one who had the bastard children, which means…”

“After the death of your grandsire, you will be heir.” Jon says, completing your thought, speaking the words you dare not speak.

You lay down on the rug slowly, shocked. “I have never even dreamed such a thing.”

“Lady y/n Lannister, heir of Casterly Rock. A fitting title, you would do well as heir.”

You hum in response, staring up at the vaulted ceiling of your chambers. You can imagine it, you a golden heir, ruler of Casterly Rock, Jon by your side, perhaps a child or two with his curls and your eyes. He would do well there, shaping up the guards, playing with your children in the Hall of Heroes.

“Do you not wish to be heir?” Jon asks, leaning on one hand, his head tilting to the side, resting on his shoulder.

He looks tired, you are sure you do as well. “It is not that, I just…I am the daughter of a third child, a second son, a disfigured, scorned son. My mother was no one, the eighth daughter of the third brother of Lord Hawthorne, I could not even claim anything from her. It is my lot to marry some old man and bear his son, not rule Casterly Rock. I am not important in the grand scheme of things.”

Jon lies on his side facing you. “If the people of Westeros believe my father’s words, then soon the only trueborn Lannister grandchild of direct descent will be you. That will make you very important in the grand scheme of things. ”

You shift to face him, running your fingers over the plush rug beneath you both. “I guess you are right.”

“And if they do not believe his words—Jon reaches out and his fingertips ghost the curve of your cheek—you are still important to me, I know it is not as grand, but it is true.”

You want to kiss him, you have never wanted to kiss anyone in your life as badly as you want to kiss Jon, but you will not. You will not put him in such an awkward position, and your father’s words ring in your head. Not a husband. A lover, or a guard, but never a husband.

Instead, you close your eyes and lean into his touch, featherlight as it is. “It is grand enough, my champion.”

Jon laughs softly, more an exhalation of air than a laugh, his breath stirring the hair around your face.

“You are important to me too, Ser Jon, I do not wish to lose you.” You admit, keeping your eyes closed, not wanting the moment to shatter. “I forbid you from fighting in any other tourneys.”

“Then how will I present my lady with her crown?” He jests, his hand settling on the side of your face, his thumb resting just below the corner of your lips. “Surely the one you have now will wither beyond repair soon enough.”

“I care more for your safety than a crown.” You say, finally opening your eyes and meeting his gaze.

His eyes are the color of a gathering storm, dark storm clouds rolling in, shot through with streaks of lightning, the air alive, the taste of rain. The depth of them going on for leagues and leagues until you feel you could be lost in them.

“I would give you the crown, the throne, if you asked it of me.” He breathes, his eyes searching yours, his spoken words of treason slipping from his lips so easily you cannot help but reach for him, anchoring your fingers in his tunic.

He is a man of eight and ten, you a woman of seven and ten, you are not ready to be queen, not yet, but his words, his words make you believe you are.

“That is treason you speak of.”

He gives you a wry smile. “Will you turn me in, My Lady?”

“Never, I trust no one else with my safety, I would die before you are taken from me.” You say, tightening your grip on his tunic, panic coursing through you at the very thought of Jon being taken from you, of being alone in Joffrey’s court, of being without Jon ever, in any place.

His smile fades, that solemn, serious look returning. You have spoken at length of Joffrey’s cruelty, of your fears if your father was ever not there to protect you, what vile men wished to take you for a bride, the things they have said to you. “I would never let that happen. Do you hear me, y/n? I will never let anyone separate us.”

You nod, warmth flooding your veins, washing away the fear at his words, at the sound of your name and your name alone coming from his lips. He says it so perfectly, wrapping each syllable in his rough Northern accent. It is unlike any pronunciation of your name you have ever heard, and you adore it.

You wish to ask him to stay, to share your bed, not in a carnal sense, but to sleep beside you, to ease your fears, but you know you cannot. You and Jon already act far more companionable than most sworn shields and their charges, and with Joffrey’s eye on him, it is too risky.

Your father calls you to his solar for evening meal, Jon your ever-present shadow is ordered to wait outside the door, and not to enter until he is called for, but he does not move until you give him a nod. Once the door is closed, and you take your seat, your father laughs. “You have him trained well.”

You bristle at his words but calm yourself, this is your father, he has been insulted all his life, he would not be so cruel, not to Jon. “He is my champion.”

“Yes, I am well aware, seems we picked well out of the Stark lot.” Your father says, beginning to cut into his food.

You do the same, waiting for a moment before you speak. “Do you know who set Lord Stark and Sansa free?”

“Stannis most likely, or Renly, either stand to gain from the North backing their claim, though Renly less so now. Though they did make my plan flow much smoother.”

You chew thoughtfully, then take a long drink from your wine. Of course, your father had been a part of the plan to free Lord Stark and Sansa, he was a good man at heart, and the death of Lord Stark would mean war. “And the rumors? Of my cousins’ parentage?”

Your father sets down his knife. “I have seen Robert’s bastards, and while it sickens me to think my siblings could be engaging in such…I do not think the rumors are false.”

“So, will we be named heir of The Rock? There is no one else, besides one of Grandsire’s brothers, but I doubt he would be willing to give them control.” You hope your father will tell you yes, yes, he has been named heir. Then you will take Jon and run, run all the way to Casterly Rock, and hide with him there until the realm has forgotten of your shared existences.

“I think it is more important to focus on the current heir problem, little lion.”

Your shoulders slump, but you nod. “Of course, Father.”

He sighs and reaches for your hand. “Y/N, my darling girl, I know your life has been upheaved ever since we left Winterfell, but I need you to trust me.”

“Trust you with what?” You ask, though of course it matters not the answer, he is your father he will always have your trust.

“Renly will fall, Stannis is declaring himself king, and the Tyrells will soon move to set one of their own beside Joffrey.” Your father explains, picking up serval cubes of cheese and setting them on the table strategically. “We shall send Myrcella to Dorne to shore up allies, and for her own safety, I would send you as well but—”

You cut him off, horrified. “I will not go to Dorne.”

“Yes, yes, I know, which is why I am not sending you along with her.”

“Thank you.”

“I have spoken with Lady Olenna Tyrell, terrifying women, intelligent beyond all others, if she were not so old I might suggest she take the throne herself. And we have come to an agreement that relies on many moving pieces, ones which I am delighted to say do not involve you and Jon until later plays.”

“Go on.” You are already making mental notes, attempting to see the connections before your father speaks them aloud.

“Joffrey should not be king, this is well known, and while I do adore Myrcella and Tommen, neither are fit to rule, they are sweet and innocent, too easily taken advantage of.”

“So, the Tyrells?”

Your father shakes his head, “not entirely. The Tyrells and the Starks.”

You digest the information, about to speak when your father continues, his voice lowered to a whisper. “I spoke with Ned Stark when I helped him and Sansa escape, he revealed something quite interesting to me about your dear champion.”

You lean forward, eyes darting towards the door.

“You know of the tale Rhaegar and Lyanna, the horrid tragic downfall of the Targaryens.”

“Yes, of course, all the realm does.” You say, trying to hurry him along, your curiosity growing with each moment.

“Jon Snow was born of a Stark, but not the one the realm believes he was born of.” There is a conspiratory smile on your father's face, as if he is not speaking madness.

“Are you—Lyanna, Jon is Lyanna’s son? He is a Targaryen?” Your own voice drops to a whisper, shock seizing your muscles, keeping you frozen to your chair.

“Gods no, though that would make our lives much easier.”

“Then what is he? Do not tell me he was born of incest.” You say, your hand going to the hollow of your throat, stomach churning at the very thought.

“He is a Dayne.” Your father says carefully, watching your reactions. “Son of the Sword of the Morning.”

“He is in line for the seat of Starfell? Rhaegar’s closet companion slept with the women he assisted him with kidnapping?”

Your father shrugs. “The ways of men are odd little lion, we cannot know how it all came about, only that the blood of Dorne runs in his veins.”

“But Arthur Dayne is dead, and Lyanna Stark is dead, there is no one who can prove this claim.”

Your father smirks. “Is he?”

You massage your temples. “Father, please do not drag me about, tell me the truth.”

“My apologies, allow me to elaborate. Lord Stark said he believes Dayne to be dead, but he did not deal the final blow himself, he and Lord Howland left with Jon before Dayne had taken his assumed final breath.”

“And unless you see the body cold before you, there is no assurance of death.” You say, remembering a pearl of wisdom your Uncle Robert had impressed upon you once.

Your father nods. “We must presume Dayne is dead unless proven false and act accordingly. A marriage must take place to secure a more profitable future.”

“You will not marry off Jon, he is mine.” You snap, pushing back from the table and standing, your face like stone.

“He is not yours; truly he belongs to House Dayne, his family.” He says, raising one eyebrow at you.

“No, he does not, they do not even know he lives.” You argue, clenching your fists, anger bubbling up inside you, a fire sparking, kindling, snapping to life.

“If you do not wish him to marry, we could send him home to Dorne with Myrcella.” Your father suggests.

The flames jump, climb, scale the walls of civility built within you and consume your rational mind. Your actions are no longer your own as you seize the nearest thing you can—an apple—and throw it at your father, who easily dodges it.

“Y/N, you are acting like a child, stop this at once, you cannot keep Jon from others forever.” He demands, his voice cold, colder than you have ever heard directed towards you.

It hurts, his words, the truth of them, the idea that someone else would take Jon from you, will warm his bed, bear his children, will get to love him as you long to. But you are a Lannister, you do not feel grief or sadness, you feel rage.

“He is my sworn sword, my champion, my Jon.” You grab another thing to throw, a plate, it crashes against the wall. “I will not let you or Lord Stark auction him off like a breeding stud.” Plates, fruits, silverware, even your napkin has been thrown in a fit of rage until you have nothing left to throw but the heavy chair you were sitting in. Which you do not have the strength to throw far enough, that it will make you feel better. “Jon swore his life to me, no one else, he is mine.”

Your father’s solar is a mess, and you are breathing hard, angry tears in your eyes as you stare down at him.

“He did, which is why we will not marry him off, we will marry off Robb.” Your father says, unfazed by your display of rage. “Ned Stark was declared regent, there was no mention of who should be heir, assumptions could be made.”

You slump into your chair, tears slipping from your eyes. You are not Joffrey, not a full-blooded Lannister, Hawthrone blood lessens the lion’s rage and allows you to cry. “Why did you not say that first? Why would you allow me to think—”

“I needed to be sure you wished to stay by him, and so did you. This will not be easy, little lion; many things may change once the truth is revealed. The Daynes may call for his return, or seek retribution for the deceit, if deceit was at play.”

You wipe under your eyes with your sleeve, the anger draining from you, leaving you hollow. “Why can I not simply flee to Casterly Rock and hide with Jon there?”

Your father walks over to you and embraces you tightly. “Because you deserve more, if Lady Tyrell is correct, you could control the Westerlands, you could marry a man you love, and the realm would have a good king through Robb.”

“But what if that does not work? Stannis has a daughter, does he not? Could we offer to betroth her and Tommen?” You ask, wracking your mind to try and recall the age and name of Stannis’ only child.

“If the Tyrell’s plan does not work then I will convince my family to extend the offer, then you and I will lock ourselves away in The Rock and let Cersei and Stannis eat each other alive.”

You laugh, the sound watery. “Or perhaps we shall run to Dorne and try to install Jon in the line of succession for Starfell.”

“That may prove more difficult, but it is always an option.” Your father laughs, the sound eases the remaining unrest in your heart.

You rest your chin atop his head. “Alright then, I will trust you. But who will tell Jon?”

TL: @mostclevermiss, @solacestyles, @2valentines, @sharknutz, @idohknow, @bdudette, @pluraldoggo

#meg's writing #jon snow x you #jon snow x reader #jon snow x y/n #jon snow imagine #jon snow imagines #lannister!reader #AHHHHH THE PINING #THE LONGING

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ribread03 · 8 months ago

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Dance Party! M.Sturniolo x Reader

Bread talk: I came up with this idea while writing my Nick Sturniolo head cannons.. so yeah. I hope you like this... A HUGE thank you to @6ix9inewiturmom with helping me pick out songs for this. ILY thank you. Also this is a LOOOONG one.

WC: 2597 [just stick with it]

CW: Smut, cursing, unprotected sex [wrap before you tap], idk what else honestly. let me know if I missed anything important..

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"Don't ya wish your girlfriend was hot like me?" Nick sings loudly with the music.

"Don't ya wish your girlfriend was a freak like me?" You're singing the next line of the song.

"Dont Cha" by the Pussycat Dolls plays loudly in the kitchen of the triplets house. Me and Nick dancing our hearts out not having a care in the world of what we look like to the outside eye.

Dancing and laughing with Nick and you spin around the kitchen, bumping into him every once and a while. Rolling your shoulders to the beat of the song. Moving your hips in a sexual way not thinking about anything but you a Nick.

"I probably be just as crazy about you if you were my old man" Both of you singing this line together. While you point at Nick with your finger.

Laughing as the song ends and the next one comes on. You look over the the couch and see Matt sitting there on his phone. Looking over at Nick you now see Chris behind him.

Cheering as the next song starts because it's one of your favorites. "Get Low" by Lil Jon feat. Ying Yang Twins comes on. You start to sing the song. Getting low when it says to get low still singing.

"Till the sweat drops down my balls!" You sing loudly in the house.

"Let me see you get low you scared you, scared you." Chris now singing the part of the song. Dropping down to the floor at this point you bounce back up shaking your ass.

Still singing the song still you move your hips to the left and to the right when that part of the song comes on, wiggling when they song says so.

"To the window, To the wall!" All three of you sing. Pointing to to the window and the wall.

You now feel someone behind you. Knowing the only other person that could have joined you guys would be Matt. The lyrics "Bend over to he front touch toes back dat ass up and down and get low" come on and you do that as you have been with the rest of the song.

Not realizing how close Matt really was to you. You end up hitting his crotch. Him immediately grabbing your hip so you don't rub against him, but you do anyway. You know what you are doing to him. You and Matt have always had a flirty relationship, agreeing that you guys where just friends. Everyone knew that you both kinda liked each other or thought the other one was cute.

Plastering a smile on your face when you feel Matt grip your hips tighter when you directly rub up against his growing boner. Backing up a little more when the same lyric is said again.

The song now ending you step forward going to make away from Matt but his hands are still on you. He quickly pulls his hands away from you and moves them to cover the small bulge that is now in his pants.

The next song starts with some whistling. "Moves Like Jagger" is now playing over the speakers. You start to jump up and down to the beat of the song. Spinning in a circle as you sing the song. Nick and Chris in their own world dancing with each other.

You feel hands on your shoulders stopping you from dancing. You huff and turn your head seeing Matt's faces close to your ear. You can feel his hot jagged breath on your neck as he talks.

"Wanna see my moves?" He pauses for a sec, but continues when you don't move. "They're just like Jaggers."

Now spinning to face him, he winks and walks off to his room. Leaving you there to finish dancing thinking about what he has just said to you.

Knocking on Matt's door it quickly opens and he pulls you inside. Gasping at the sudden jolt you lose your balance falling right into Matt's chest. You are thinking about whether or not it was a good idea to come down here.

Matt chuckling, he looks at you. You now realize how long you have been standing holding onto his shirt in silence. Stepping back from Matt you look up. "hi." You speak at almost a whisper.

"hey." He says back almost as quite as you.

The tension in the room is so thick you could see it. The dim lights of Matt's room not helping. The mood seems to be set, his bed has silk sheets on it, paired with a matching quilt.

You finally decide to speak up about what Matt had said to you 5 minutes prior. "What's with this 'wanna see my moves' thing?" You question, seriously not knowing what he was talking about.

Matt sits and stares at you for a few seconds before finally taking two steps towards you, grabbing your face and planting his lips on yours. You are shocked at his sudden action. You slowly start to kiss him back when you realize what is happening. Matt pulls away from you lips and looks you in the eyes.

"That help?"

You answer him by kissing him back, this time he is the one that is caught off guard. Pulling away you answer with a breathy "yeah" and a quite giggle. Matt pulls you closer to him with his hands on your waist.

You cant stop smiling. You never thought this day would come when you would be able to kiss Matt. Not wanting to push Matt to do anything you just put your arms around his neck and wait for him to make the next move.

Matt without any warning picks you up, walks across his room and places you on his bed. Standing in front of you he bends down to be level with your face "You have no idea what you do to me, do you?" He whispers in your ear.

His hot breath fanning your neck sends shivers down your spine, making you let out a low whimper. Chuckling Matt moves his face so now he is making eye contact with you. Deciding hes not going to do something about the obvious tension in the room, you kiss him again.

This time it gets heated. Your back is pushed against the bed, Matt on top of you. Matt's hands are on your waist. Your hands rest on his chest, playing with the fabric of his shirt. His grip is strong making it so you cant move. He is leaving wet kisses down your jaw and neck, then moving back up to your face.

Matt's hands are traveling up your sides, making you squirm at his touch. He pulls away and lifts his shirt up and over his head. You've seen Matt shirtless before, but you cant help and stare right now, taking in every detail of his torso. Matt clears his throat becoming nervous under your gaze.

"sor-." You go to say. Matt cuts you off by kissing you again. His hands playing with the bottom of your shirt now. Taking the hint you break the kiss and slide your thin top up and over your head. Matt is the one staring now, as your chest is now only covered by your lacy bra. Giggling quietly "My eyes are up here silly." Grabbing his chin and bringing his eyes back up to yours.

"You're so beautiful." Matt is kissing you again not giving you time to even say anything back. Smiling in the kiss at the compliment. You go to toy with his belt. Matt pulls back from the kiss looking down at where your hands are, so close to where he needs them but so far away.

You drop your hands as quickly as you can thinking that he is uncomfortable with what you're doing. Matt quickly grabs them and puts them back, letting you know to keep going. You quickly unbuckle his belt, throwing it somewhere on the floor. Still kissing Matt you feel his hands at the waist band out your pants. Nodding yes to let him know it's ok to take them off.

Matt rips your pants down your legs, along with his own leaving you both in your underwear. Your arms go to wrap around your waist to hide from Matt but he stops you by holding your hands above your head, interlocking your fingers. He gives you a quick peck on the lips before moving down to your jaw and neck.

Your breath hitches when he kisses your collar bone. He looks up at you, making eye contact. "Can I take this off?" He ask playing with the strap of your bra. Shaking you head yes. "Words now please." He says. Instant butterfly's enter your tummy.

"Yes, take it off Matt." You say slightly moaning his name when he kisses the top of your breast.

Matt takes your bra off and his mouth quickly finds your nipple swirling it around with his tongue. Whimpering as he does this you can feel him smiling onto your skin. Hands flying to his hair to try and push him down to where you need him the most. "Matt."

"Hm" He responds not taking his mouth off of your body traveling farther down. "What do you need sweetheart."

"I need y-you, Matt, I need you so bad." You confess.

"All you had to do was ask." He starts to move down your body, now at the top of your panties. He loops his finger under the top of them and looks at you once again in the eyes asking for permission to take your final piece of clothing off.

"Matt, just take them off already." You beg slightly, becoming needy. "Please, I need you inside of me already." This makes Matt's cheeks turn a slight shade of pink as if his not undressing you.

Ripping your panties off Matt stares at your naked body laying in front of him. "How did I get so lucky?" He ask himself. He's now face to face with you pussy. You feel his warm breath on your heat. You can feel you heart rate pick up, this is something you never thought would be happening to you.

Gasping when you feel his tongue lick a strip through your folds. You can feel him smirking against you as his tongue moves at a fast speed now. You are becoming a mess from just his tongue, how would it feel when he is pounding into you, his dick hitting the right spot every time.

"M-matt" His name comes out of your mouth louder than you thought because he stops his movements and puts his finger to his lip tell you to be quite. His chin is covered in your juices.

"shh. Wouldn't want them to hear." He says nodding his head towards the door implying he was talking about his brothers.

Quickly nodding your head Matt gets back to work. Your legs start to shake not to long after he starts again. Your hands are pulling on his hair. "Matt-I ug- Im close." You manage to moan out. Matt quickens his pace when he hears this.

"Cum for me, let it all go pretty girl" Hearing his words you cum all over his face. Your legs are shaking, your thighs squeezing around his head as your organism washes over you.

As you are trying to catch your breath Matt's face comes out from in-between your legs. Wiping his chin with the back of his hand, he comes up to your face and gives you a quick little peck on the lips. His lips travel from your lips to the top of your breast.

His hard on presses against your thigh, pressing your thigh up into his cock. He whimpers at the feeling when you do this, lightly biting down on your chest. You do this again, this time earning a moan from Matt. Smirking at what you do to him, you quickly flip so now you are on top of him.

You loop your fingers in the waist band of his underwear and he takes the hit and pulls them down. You can't help but stare for a second, thinking about how it will fit. Matt clears his throat and you bring your attention back to his face.

"Are you sure about this?" Matt ask you.

"Yeah." You tell him. "What about you? Do you want this to?"

"Most defiantly."

With that you kiss Matt. Pulling away Matt flips you guys over again so he is on top once again. He lines up his tip with your entrance. He slowly pushes into. You wince at this pain as he stretches you out. He slowly starts to thrust into you.

Little sounds escape your lips when the pain becomes pleasure. Matt starts to move his hips. You feel over the moon right now, never in a billion years would you think this would be happening, all because of a stupid song.

Matt's lips reconnect with yours. His hips are moving slowly still. "Mhp- Matt." You let quiets moans and whimpers of his name leave your mouth, pushing Matt to move his hips faster.

"You're so pretty." He lets out. "I hope you know that." Blushing at his comments his name slips past your lips again.

Matt hits the spot that makes you crumble every time. You can't hold back your moans anymore, letting the whole house know what is going on. Matt is quick to put his fingers in your mouth. Picking up his pace as his rams into you.

You're close to cumming again, you can tell Matt is as well. His thrust are become sloppy and uneven. "C-close." is all you can mumble out.

"Me to, me to." He tells you as he takes his fingers out of your mouth wanting to hear the noises he causes you to make. "Cum with me y/n?"

Before the whole sentence leaves his mouth your cumming, him not far after you. Matt pulls out and falls down on the bed next to you. You look over at him, his face slightly sweaty from the events that just had happened. "That was..." You start but trail off.

"Yeah it was." He knows what you mean, you just smile at the fact he thinks that same. He looks over at you, making eye contact with you. He leans over and gives you a quick peck on the lips before getting out of bed and walking into his bathroom. He walks back into the room with a washcloth.

Walking over to you he drags the cloth all over your thighs being careful around your more sensitive parts as he cleans you up. Peppering kisses all around your body as he does this.

Once he is done he throws the cloth in his dirty clothes bin and grabs you a sweatshirt and underwear from his dresser. After helping you put them on, and his own pair, he climbs back into bed with you. Snuggling up close to you, you can feel his hot breath on your neck.

"Soo-" you start before Matt cuts you off.

"Can we talk in the morning? I just want to cuddle right now..." Matt shamelessly admits.

Laughing lightly at his small confession, "Yeah." You answer. "I like that idea" Snuggling back into his chest. Slowly you start to drift asleep, in arms you're used to sleeping in but this time it's different. A good difference, one that you like and could get used to.

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ANpt2.: I hoped you guys like this. This took me forever to write but I really enjoyed it. this is so long so thanks for reading the whole thing. OKAY BYE LOVE YOU <3!!!

#Spotify #matt #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x you #sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets

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wondersinwaynemanor · 11 months ago

Text

here i go again with "big brother dick grayson strikes again" prompts.

thinking of Dick probably helping his siblings on their first dates and offering to take them to the location.

Dick to Jason: Hey, Little Wing. I know you can take one of your motorcycles, but let me take you. You can just focus on being pretty.

Jason: Shut up, Dick. But, are you sure? I don't know why my hands feel a bit numb-

Dick, takes Jason's hands on his to warm them up and untighten the nerves there: It's okay. I got you. You're okay. It's going to be okay. Don't stress yourself out.

Jason: I know I fucked up many times, Dick. I don't want.. I don't know what to do if I fuck this up.

Dick, brings Jason closer: Shh. You won't, Jay. You're very smart and strong, and so so caring and you don't even realize it it. Ask the kids at the Alley, they idolize you. Roy adores you and everything you do. He knows who you are. And trust me, I'm not that bitter anymore of one of my best friends dating my younger brother.

Jason smiles which warms Dick's heart, making him smile too.

Dick: Plus, we wouldn't want Ollie to think that a Wayne cannot dress up and be romantic right?

Jason grins this time.

Dick to Tim: Timmy, I have a great idea! I'll drive you there. I know you're tired from work already. Just let me know which restaurant then you can rest a bit when we travel there.

Tim: It's okay, Dick. You're also tired from your shift. I'll just let Kon know I'll be late for a few-

Dick: No, no. If you want to rest first, let him know, he'll understand. But I'll still take you.

Tim: But, Dick...

Dick: Nah-uh. I didn't drive you to prom, remember? Let me do this, Baby Bird. And for me to also look out for Lex, just in case he bothers Conner again. We don't want that happening in the middle of your date.

Tim, laughs: Well, Kon will just have to drag Lex's ass to space.

Dick laughs with him.

Dick to Cass: Aww, you look beautiful, Cass. So where you going? Where will you meet Steph?

Cass, fixing her necklace: By her house.

Dick: Great! I already know where that is. I'll drive you there. We don't want to ruin your beauty. I mean, that's totally impossible, but I want you to just relax before the date.

Cass, blushes: I can do it.

Dick: Of course, you can. But I want to. Pretty please, pretty please. I'm a little protective over my sister.

Cass, rolls her eyes fondly but smiles: Of course. Thank you.

Dick: You're most welcome. And tell Steph if she does something extreme like set some fireworks, tell her to lay off with those energy drinks she started on her diet.

Dick to Duke: Little D, Little D! Don't even try to say no cus maybe your brothers and sister have already told you, but this is kinda my tradition now. I'm taking you to your first date.

Duke: They did tell me. But, Dick.. I don't want to be a burden. Weren't you injured-

Dick: No, no. That was like last week. I'm good. As long as you're good with me to take you, right? Now, I don't want to be the burden.

Duke, smiles: Never.

Dick, smiles and gives Duke a side hug: Then you're never a burden too, Little D. A big bro has to look out for the younger ones. Plus, I can say that you dressing up nice comes from my influence.

Duke, chuckles: Who else am I looking up to, right?

Dick to Damian: Shush, Dami. I know you're dating a super, and he can come and get you without a minute to spare, but tell Jon I'll be taking you.

Damian: Richard, please. I'm already at the right age.

Dick, puts a hand on his little (not so anymore) brother's shoulder and he refuses not to tear up (he fails ofc): I know, you've grown up so much, Dami. So much, since I made you Robin. But please, it will make me really happy to do this. It will give me peace, in some way. It sounds ridiculous, but yes.

Damian, doesn't even try to hide the fond he has on his face: Alright, Richard. I'll let Jon know.

Dick: He's not taking you somewhere out of Gotham or Metropolis, right? Cus then we'll have to take the Batplane.

Damian, chuckles: It's in Metropolis, don't worry.

Dick: Phew. I was as nervous as the time I took Tim on his date.

so....

maybe after a few years on Dick and Wally's wedding day, Dick's younger siblings will be walking with him on the aisle by his side and Bruce, their Father, on his other side of course. and they're thankful that the aisle is wide enough to fit the whole Wayne kids. Dick is a crying mess and he hasn't even reached Wally yet by the end of the aisle. because he's genuinely happy to have his siblings take him to the love of his life this time.

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roomsofangel · 9 months ago

Text

IN THE ABSENCE OF EVERYTHING, I PROMISE TO KEEP YOU WARM . . jeong yunho

“you’ve ruined me for anyone else, i don’t think i could ever stop loving you even if i wanted to.”

pairing idol!yunho x fem!reader

one sided dislike/hatred. sunshine x grumpy. could be seen as an enemies to lovers but it’s all one sided on y/n’s end and she just doesn’t like him in the beginning while yunho is completely oblivious, but still matches her energy.

genre angst, fluff, smut, fic.

synopsis ateez are on a much needed break after their recent comeback — traveling overseas for a short-term vacation, yunho desires nothing more than just to ease himself and let go of worries.

but with a run in with someone he deems an angel in human skin, yunho learns she doesn’t know who he is and pretends to be someone else.

filled with secrets and a burning romance, yunho learns that no matter what you do or how hard you try, life just isn’t fair.

and he only had himself to blame.

warnings mature themes, mainly due to language. a lot of dishonesty. hurt without comfort if i’m being honest. nsfw later on. arguments and miscommunication. reader and yunho don’t have a good first impression at all, and they both don’t use the most nicest words at first. a lot of talk of mental health, exhaustion, and being overworked.

notes this is told in past tense, yunho’s pov. think of it as you are listening to him tell the story after it all ended, only knowing his side. this was also going to be a one shot, but i instead have changed my mind and went with original idea when first planning this, and this will be a fic.

a/n this is a repost! so if it sounds familiar i originally posted this with my old blog mothworked!

status ongoing

started 05/06/23

completed n/a

reblogs & comments are very appreciated and also help out a lot! thank you for reading and giving my work a chance ^_^

. . . # chapters !

PREVIEW BELOW. . !

yunho hasn’t been happy in a while.

he doesn’t know when or where this sudden realization came into place, nor does he know when the feeling of numbness even decided to pop in for a chat as if it was a distant relative who came over for the holidays and refused to be put to bed.

he just knows he hasn’t been the same person after their comeback — assuming that he was only overworked, this will cease.

it didn’t.

his hands shoved his clothes into the oversized suitcase, hearing the zipper tug and close his belongings all tightly knit together, yunho let out a huff of air, allowing himself to pause for a minute, take in everything while staring blank at the pompompurin keychain he had setting on his nightstand with the mental reminder to hook it onto his bag to match with mingi — “will this actually do anything?” he voiced outloud, grumbling before pulling and rolling the suitcase off his bed and down the hall, “i’m here.”

the first person to lift their heads towards him was hongjoong who smiled in response, eyes showing he was just as exhausted and eager for this break, “does anyone know where we’ll be going?” he asked

“california — not so bad, huh?” seonghwa acknowledged, a light tone to ease the tension created from just the lack of care to their needs that begun to radiate off of then in their tones and actions

and yunho wanted to believe him, he really did.

but the feeling in his chest was yelling at him otherwise.

“san’s birthday is coming up,” yeosang mentioned one night while he and yunho unpacked, the two sharing a room together after losing a game of rock paper scissors

yunho could recall the shade the walls were painted, green lily. mingi was the one who mentioned the color by name and it had made them all erupt in fits of giggles on how — and why, he knew something like that but thanked him nonetheless, san announcing the dorms should be painted the same shade before getting a pillow aimed towards his head by a sleepy jongho

and now, yunho was scurrying around downtown LA, attempting to find a good present for his friend. why was gift shopping so hard? would san even like it? no, scratch that, san loved anything given to him — he was just a big ball of sunshine.

it was yunho who wouldn’t deem it good enough.

maybe coffee would help, yeah, that would. just something to distract his neverending nerves so he can think better. he should’ve asked seonghwa, he thought to himself.

the sky was clear, the sun being bright and reflecting on his freshly dyed scalp, it was his mind that was clouded and unable to steer in one set direction — not fully processing where he was going, only aware he was aiming towards that coffee shop he noticed. oh, if he knew then, he would’ve turned around.

colliding with a body, soft gasps and cold drink being spilled on his warm skin, “fuck,” he cursed out loud at the sudden temperature and new situation

and that’s when his eyes met yours.

but with the way his day and emotions had been, he didn’t intend for his next words to be come off so harsh, “i’m sorry”

you looked at him with an annoyed expression, brows knitted tightly together, “just watch where you’re going now i have to deal with a day without my drink.”

scoffing, yunho shook his head, “i wouldn’t be talking if i were you, you basically were fucking naurto running into my chest,”

you let out a huff, “naurto running?!” running your fingers through your hair, you shook your head, “if i wasn’t so mad, i would have laughed.”

“i can get you another one,” yunho tried to compromise, not wanting a feud with a stranger over a drink

plus, he wasn’t sure if you knew he was an idol and if you did, he didn’t have any desire to end up on an article, his thoughts broken by your scoff

“no fuck you, i wanted that one,” you folded your arms over your chest, eyes darting to the floor before you started getting napkins to clean up, yunho unaware of why he followed behind

“are you this uptight all the time?” yunho blurted, earning his chest to hit your back before you turned with raised brows

“only to dumbasses who make me spill my drink.”

“touché.”

he finally convinced you to let him get you another drink, taking a seat by you while the straw was between your lips and your fingertips tapped the cold plastic cup that had water droplets decorating, “you can leave now,” you said

“don’t flatter yourself, i ordered something too,” yunho shook his head

you sneered, “your presence just annoys me.”

yunho leaned forward, propping himself up with his elbows as he looked at you with a mocking grin to tease you more, “is that any way to talk to me after i got you another tea, which may i add, at a coffee shop?” he paused, looking at you taking a bite of your cake pop, “plus that cake pop.”

“yeah.” you shrugged

yunho ordered hot chocolate, his intentions were to get an iced americano but with the day he was having, his taste changed for today, his hands holding the warm wrapped brownie he hoped to enjoy if not giving it to san later

you teased him about it which was fair, he did so about your tea.

“what’s your name?” he asked

met with silence.

“hello, are you deaf?” he titled his head in response, you looking at him with a teasing grin

“for you, yeah.”

ignoring what you had said, yunho straightened his posture, “i’m yunho and you are?”

and yet again, met with your silence

“you’re making this really herd,” he huffed

“that’s the goal.” you replied

yunho didn’t know how much longer the two of you sat in silence, eating and drinking before you began getting up to clean your area, he remembered how the strands of your hair fell in front of your face and you harshly moved them aside in annoyance, jaw clenched while you got your bag that he didn’t realize you had with you — eyed landing on a specific dangling keychain that resembled the one he had connected, before he could make a comment about coincidences, you spoke

“y/n.”

“huh?” he questioned

you dusted yourself off and laughed, “my name is y/n, you asswipe.”

that was the first time he met you

and sometimes he wished he would’ve left you alone after that

maybe the two of you would have been better

maybe you wouldn’t hate him this much

and maybe he could’ve done things differently if he had another chance

but you won’t give him one

and he knows he doesn’t deserve it after what he did.

it was almost fate.

the situation and timing could come off as such — at least, yunho wanted to believe the two of you were starcrossed lovers destined to get it right either in this life or the next one.

he didn’t expect to see you there, polished and composed, the opposite of who he met the day prior. you radiated something that he knew he wouldn’t be able to get enough of.

and he couldn’t.

even now, he found himself drowning in your memory and wanting to be swept under permanently — it nearly sounds as if he was praying for a fatal outcome, but he did not want to die. he just wanted his heart back.

the same one that still stayed in your hands while yours was forcibly removed from his

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afewproblems · 1 year ago

Note

Angsty dialogue prompts 👀

Number 13 - "Why would you say that?"

-@strangersteddierthings

Ahhhhhh thank you for the request Jess! @strangersteddierthings I hope you enjoy, I took this into a bit of a different direction than even I expected!

***

It takes Robin's foot connecting with his ankle to make Steve realize he was starring.

At Eddie, yet again.

Something that he had been doing a lot over the last few months since everything with Vecna and the Upside Down. Since Steve and Robin had managed to drag Eddie back from the brink, fighting off inky tendrils of death as Dustin led the way while Nancy brought up the rear, shot gun in hand.

Between the four of them, Eddie had actually made it. Torn up and missing about two liters of blood, but alive.

Of course, navigating the aftermath of the earthquakes and the loss of half the town had actually made it easier to avoid the murder charges that had been lobbed at Eddie.

Especially with the way Lucas, Erica, and Max had sworn up and down that Jason had been the one responsible for all of the murders, that they had narrowly escaped becoming his final victims.

And who could argue with the evidence, certainly not Jason after the surge of white hot energy that split the earth had finished with him.

So with Eddie's newfound freedom and the inability to argue with Dustin's insistence that he had been officially adopted into the party, his presence in their lives had become something that Steve looked forward to.

It was nice having someone else his age in the group. Robin was his other half of course, his soul mate, but it was nice having another guy to hang out with, and of course it wasn't because of anything else, Robin.

He let it slip one time that Eddie had nice eyes and was easy to talk to and, do you think he's seeing anyone Bobby, and suddenly Steve is accused of having a crush. Of all things!

Steve feels two fingers suddenly pinch at the outside of his thigh and has to suppress a loud yelp as he bats Robin's hands away from his leg with a glare.

She rolls her eyes and gives him a knowing look before turning back to the conversation.

"Take Stevie over here," Eddie says around the joint between his lips. He takes a long drag before passing it over to Argyle and Steve can't help but watch, transfixed, as the smoke billows out from his nose like a dragon.

"I can guarantee you that he's seen the ocean before while the rest of us land-locked lubbers will probably never get the pleasure," Eddie continues with a wink and kicks his leg up onto the coffee table in Steve's basement.

Argyle blows out a long puff of smoke, he's leaned back against the couch with his head tipped up towards the ceiling, "thats wild man," he says with a laugh in his voice, he doesn't react when Jonathan snorts and takes the joint from his hand.

"Seriously?" Jon asks after a minute, "dude, we lived in California, we literally went to the beach all the time?"

Robin and Nancy both laugh at the noise of recognition that Argyle makes while Eddie rolls his eyes.

"Okay but for everyone else who didn't have the benefit of local geography," Eddie says, gesturing at the girls and himself, "we will be cursed to never feel the sand between our toes and all that shit".

Robin quirks an eyebrow and takes a swig of beer from the can in her hands, the sleeve of her denim jacket brushes against Steve's arm as she moves to set the can back on the coffee table.

They're the only two seated on the floor, Steve having given up the couch so everyone else could be comfortable and Robin couldn't, in good conscience, let her best friend sit by himself.

God he loves her, Steve thinks as he shoots her a soft smile.

He's never had someone that loves him so openly, so unapologetically as Robin does.

Not even when his parents were home for more than a few days a year did they show him the same kind of care that she had in their short time of knowing one another.

Sure, they teased each other, Robin had even made a new scoreboard for his failed attempts at flirting at Family Video --this one with a new section after Steve quietly admitted to her that they had even more in common than they had realized earlier.

But Robin was there, in a way that he hadn't really had from anyone else in years.

"I don't know how you deal with it Buckley," Eddie huffs. He's grinning widely at Robin and Steve, reaching to take the joint back from Jonathan.

"What," she says dryly, "Steve? He grows on you".

"He does," Nancy insists loudly from Jonathan's other side, her cheeks are flushed and her eyes a little glassy. Jonathan lifts his arm to tuck her against his side with a fond grin, he meets Steve's gaze after a minute and mouths, 'still a lightweight,' which makes Steve snort.

"This!" Eddie barks out, lifting a ringed hand to gesture around the basement sitting room, "look there's a fucking Linn LP12 sitting right beside you and a God Damn pool outside".

Steve frowns, looking from Robin back to Eddie. He feels an uncomfortable thrum roll over his skin as Eddie stands up to make his way to the sound system he pointed out.

"Jesus, I think this whole collection cost more than my trailer," he picks up Steve's mothers Joni Mitchell album, turning it in his hands, "must have been nice to have mommy and daddy's money huh? This is like 'fuck you' rich".

Steve feels a faint nervous laugh tumble out of his mouth, even as his stomach rolls at the words.

"Oh my god," Robin laughs, knocking her shoulder into Steve's own, "yes! If I had a nickle for the number of times he asked me why I don't have my own phone line yet whenever my mom answers first, I'd be as rich as Steve!"

Eddie puts the Blue album back and pulls out a copy of The Beatles and now Steve is sweating.

Because Eddie isn't wrong, this is his parents music collection and yes it did cost them a lot of money over the years. But, more importantly, it was off limits to Steve.

The last time his dad had caught him flipping through the vinyls, Steve had been sent to his room with large purple hand prints on the offending arm and two broken fingers.

"Okay, that's my dad's, put it down," he says, hiding the tremor in his voice as he gets to his feet.

Eddie rolls his eyes again but does set the record down on top of the collection. He raises his hands in surrender and raises a mocking eyebrow as he steps back towards the couch, dropping down on the end as Argyle scoots closer to Jonathan to make more space.

Argyle and Jonathan speak quietly to one another seemingly uncaring about the strange tension that begins to bleed into the basement. It's Nancy who is watching Steve, Eddie, and Robin, her mouth set in an unhappy frown.

Nancy had only met Steve's parents once during a very uncomfortable dinner, years back when they had dated. While she may not know the true extent of Steve's relationship with Richard and Cynthia Harrington, she knows it wasn't all sunshine and roses.

"Man," Eddie snorts, shooting Robin a wicked grin, "I knew your parents had spoiled you pretty rotten but I didn't think they needed to buy you a new sense of humor".

"Yeah Steve," Robin pats the carpet beside her, "it's just a joke, lighten up and come sit down".

And that, well, that hurt a bit more than Steve anticipated.

"Why would you say that?" He whispers, the words falling out of his mouth like vomit before he can stop it.

Eddie scoffs from the couch, but Steve isn't looking at Eddie. He's looking at Robin.

Robin who meets Steve's gaze with a slight frown between her eyes, she looks back at Nancy with a laugh in her smile that disappears at the frosty glare Nancy fixes her with.

She slowly turns to look back at Steve, confusion and concern in her blue eyes.

"Oh come on Steve," Eddie takes a drag of the joint, which has dwindled into something resembling a roach before stubbing it out in the brown ashtray on the table, "we're kidding, come on Byers, you get it right?"

Nancy leans up to whisper something in Jonathan's ear and whatever it is, it's enough to make him stiffen slightly and give Steve a long look before he shakes his head, "I think we're going to head home actually".

Steve nods and breathes out, ignoring the way his chest tightens as he refuses to meet Robin's worried gaze.

Eddie slowly stands to follow Nancy and Jonathan, he says something quietly to Argyle that is met with a simple serene shrug

Eddie hangs back as the other three make their way up the basement stairs. He chews his lip and clenches his fist as he looks between Steve and Robin with a frown.

Eddie stands awkwardly beside Robin, spinning one of the rings on his left hand as he looks between Steve and the stairs that the others had used to beat their hasty retreat.

Robin gets to her feet slowly, her gaze never wavering, "Steve?"

Steve winces at the way she says his name.

He knows it was just a joke, he knows he's overreacting, that neither of them could have known about his relationship with his parents.

He knows it's unfair of him to be so upset, but he can't help it.

Because Eddie mocking him, that he could deal with. He could get over it, let go of the fantasies of Eddie's crinkling eyes and warm smile that made Steve's heartbeat quicken.

But Robin?

The way she had laughed, dismissed his discomfort, it was as though he had been transported back to Tommy's basement just a few years back, listening to him and Carol tear him down.

It's just a joke Steve.

He reaches up to pinch at the bridge of his nose, flinching at the sharp intake of air from Robin who immediately makes her way closer.

"Just," he manages to say with an even tone, shaking his head. He closes his eyes and clears his throat, taking a step back from the pair.

"I'm going to bed, got a shift tomorrow, so," Steve says quietly with a shrug. He opens his eyes but drops his gaze to the carpet, knowing if he made eye contact with Robin, he would inevitably ask her to stay.

Robin opens her mouth to argue, a fierce glare in her eyes and a bright flush on her face, he hasn't seen her this upset since the Creel House.

"Steve--"

Robin jumps as Eddie reaches for her arm, pulling her back, hard enough that she stumbles slightly into Eddie.

Steve curls his arms around himself, shying away from Eddie's dark evaluating eyes. He doesn't need to see the judgment there, it's embarrassing enough feeling like he's ruined the evening because of his hangups. He doesn't need the reminder of how ridiculous it is to be angry with them over something so silly.

"Come on Buckley, I'll drive you home," Eddie mumbles as he gently tugs at her arm once again.

Steve hears a harsh sigh, but she doesn't say anything this time. He can feel her staring, as though trying to read his mind like she normally could. But Steve keeps his eyes trained on the floor, until he hears two pairs of feet finally make their way up the stairs, until the front door closes, until Eddie's van roars to life on the Harrington driveway.

Steve eventually makes his way upstairs in a daze, half heartedly getting ready for bed.

He brushes his teeth, washes his face, doing everything he can to ignore the words that echo in his head over and over. He finishes in the bathroom and takes off his jeans, swapping his sweater for an old ratty t-shirt he often used for bed.

It was just a joke.

Steve rolls over until he's facing the window, ignoring the tightness in his chest as he closes his eyes.

Maybe it would be funnier in the morning.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #pre-steddie #stranger things #afewproblems writes #afewproblems answers #platonic stobin #platonic love #hurt steve harrington #steve harrington has bad parents or at least a bad dad

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fanonimus · 5 months ago

Text

I bring you another dream I remember! Mostly.

The first one

Context: Sometimes I dream up random episodes about media I am obsessed with at the time with proper animation and dialogue and stuff.

So this is TimKon, which is less surprising bc I was reading Timkon fanfics before going to sleep.

The animation style is Teet Titans.

The dream is blurry, but I can fill in the gaps. Mostly.

There was no intro this time.

The scene opens with Dick, Bruce, and Damian talking to a nervous looking Tim Drake, who's in a white tux with golden accents. He looks nervous as Dick fits a golden flower crown on top of his black hair.

"You okay, chum?" Bruce asks.

"I'm nervous. What if he leaves before we can do this?" Tim asks, fiddling with the sleeve of his button up shirt. Damian batts his hand away, currently doing Tims makeup.

"Kon is a good man, Tim. You two are good for each other." Dick says.

"And Todd is armed with cryptonite bullets, if he does leave." Damian adds as he finishes off, closing the makeup kit.

"Damian!" All three say in unison, with disbelief. He just shruggs.

Fade to black, then to another room. Kon is admiring himself. He's wearing a black tuxedo with silver details. Jon is excitedly rambling off about all the fun stuff he and Damian will do after the ceremony. Clark is going over Conners confession or whatever while Lois fixes up his makeup.

"He's not going to come." Conner says, sounding dissapointed. Jon frowns.

"He's a bad man. He would surely ruin the whole thing." The boy says.

"I know, but he's still my bio dad, too." Conner says.

"It's Lex Luthor. I would be surprised if he did come." Clark sighs and patts Conners shoulder. "Focus on your husband, son, don't let Lex ruin this for you." Conner nodds, we fade to black.

Wedding music plays, we open to rose petals blowing in the wind. Conner and Tim smiling at each other as they walk down the aisle. Batfam, superfam, and all of their friends are there, cheering. Even some rouges were invited. (Harley vipes a tear in the background, while Ivy is the one contributing the petals. This was strangely specified.)

Jason Todd is the priest.

The ceremony goes on, when the doors open and Lex stepps in.

"I ob-" Before he can say anything, Jason pulls a gun on him.

"Sit down." Lex sitts down. Tim and Kon let out a small giggle.

They say their vows, and all I remember from that is the love in their words. It was warm and nice.

Anyways.

The only other thing I remember is the kiss scene. Tim pulls Conner in, and hey kiss, and then they break apart and touch foreheads, and they are laughing and crying while everyone is cheering, and Harley even lights up some fireworks.

There was also a speech Damian gave, and everyone cried. Damian talked about how he came to care about Tim and how the man helped him realize that his place in the family was his ever since he arrived. He also threatened Kon.

I think Jason and Stephanie also gave speeches, but I don't remember what they said.

This is it. Thank you for tuning in. This was a really nice dream.

Here I made some art for it:

#timkon #tim drake #conner kent #kon el #jason todd #damian wayne #bruce wayne #dick grayson #stephanie brown #poison ivy #harley quinn #jon lane kent #clark kent #lois lane #this was a wild dream

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waterfallofspace · 26 days ago

Note

Hello! Just wanted to say that reading your fics has reawakened the t/m/a hyperfixation in me. I am loving it so I must thank you for that XD

Since you asked for prompts, would you consider writing J/on trying to push through a massive dust allergy in the archives? Maybe he forgot to take his meds and is still trying to quietly tackle the monumental task of organizing G/ertrude's hellscape of an office by himself. Unfortunately for him, it doesn't go to plan ^v^"

Have a good day/night! 🧡

I'm glad!! it's such a hyperfixation for me too haha~ thank you for the prompt, I hope I managed to do it some form of justice!~ this is early days though, so do be warned that Martin and Jon will not have the uh, more friendly vibes we know of them from later!~ <3 which did actually hurt a little to write ;-;

Malfunctions

The one in which Jon experiences some... bodily malfunctions.

Word Count: 3.5k Characters: Jon, Tim, Martin

“Boss?”

Jon waves a hand for Tim to enter, barely glancing up from the paper he’s scouring. If he’d have known what kind of state the archives was in when he was offered the position… well he’d still have taken it, but he might have negotiated a better pay.

“-about it, right?” Tim says, seemingly the end of a sentence, not the beginning.

Wearily, Jon looks up, groaning softly as he realizes Tim has definitely been talking this whole time. “Apologies, I was… a bit preoccupied. Would you mind repeating that?”

Tim simply shrugs, giving Jon a winning smile. “It can wait till later. What’s got you so distracted? Another case not workin’ on the laptop?”

“Quite. It’s frankly unbelievable, the state Gertrude left these archives in.” Jon starts, clenching the paper slightly in his hands. “Boxes and boxes of files and paperwork, all scattered and randomized and don’t make any sort of sense- You’d think someone with such a meticulous system of numbers would bother making it a usable one!”

There’s a slight chuckle from Tim, but Jon hardly even registers it.

“And then the fact some won’t even record- Not to mention the fact they’re mostly just rubbish fiction, it’s starting to feel like her entire existence was aimed at making my job as difficult as possible,” Jon finally trails off, slightly out of breath.

Tim chuckles at this, giving Jon a playful smirk. “Much as Gertrude may have been a bit of a waste of an archivist by the end, I don’t really think you can blame her for your laptop not recording properly.”

“I can blame her for whatever I damn well please…” Jon finds himself muttering under his breath. Tim’s raised eyebrow proves he heard it, but neither of them acknowledge this. Instead Jon simply nods, letting out a long sigh.

“Anyways,” Tim continues, gesturing to the file that- Jon didn’t even notice he was holding. “Found another one fallen behind a shelf, figured you’d want to know about it.”

Another weary sigh, followed by Jon nodding for Tim to leave it on the nearest pile of boxes. What Jon meant was for Tim to set it on top of the boxes so he could go check it out once he was finished here. What Tim did, however, was drop it on top without a care in the world.

A plume of dust rises from where the file hits the box, drifting around into the office air. Tim immediately coughs a few times, waving a hand in front of his face in an attempt to clear a bit of it. Jon, on the other hand, winces visibly, fighting the urge to pull his shirt over his face. He settles for running a knuckle under his already twitching nose. The slight itch that he’d been fighting since this morning spreads into a burning tickle, and it takes everything he has not to sneeze.

“Woah,” Tim exclaims, still coughing slightly. “Bloody hell there’s a lot of dust around here.”

“Seems cleanliness was hardly one of Gertrude’s strengths either,” Jon replies, each word bringing him one step closer to the brink.

Mind over body, he does not have to sneeze. He’s not allergic to dust, and his eyes are not beginning to water. He’s a professional, damn it. And professional archivists, head archivists, are not taken down by something as simple, and common, as dust.

“I mean I knew it was bad in storage,” Tim continues, seemingly oblivious to the struggle Jon finds himself fighting through. “But I figured at least in your office it would be a bit cleaner.”

“I haven’t had a chance to get a deep clean done,” Jon retorts, feeling annoyance start to creep into his tone. “I’ve been quite busy, if you hadn’t noticed.”

Tim holds up his hands in mock surrender, “Right, right, wasn’t making a comment on your work ethic or anything. Honestly I just figured Elias would have sent someone to do it for you or something.”

“I know,” Jon offers, softening his tone. “I’m sorry. I’m just a bit…”

“Yeah,” Tim replies. His smile is back, but it seems a touch more genuine this time. “We’re all pretty stressed. Gertrude left us a hell of a mess to clean.”

“Quite literally,” Jon says, giving a small smile of his own. “And yes, Elias did offer, but there’s hardly been a reasonable hour that I haven’t been here cleaning up hehh– her mess.”

It’s only for a second, but Jon feels his entire body go slack as the sneeze begs to be released, teasing up the edge of his nose. He manages to turn away from Tim enough to pinch his nose for a minute. It does nothing against the deep itch that’s beginning to creep up into his ears and eyes, but at least for now it stalls the sneeze enough for him to turn back.

Tim, for his part, doesn’t seem to be paying attention. Instead, he’s standing in the doorway, holding up one hand with the other hovering in front of his face. At first, Jon can’t for the life of him figure out what the hell Tim’s doing. Is this some form of practical joke?

It takes him right up until Tim gasps, with Jon nearly jumping to his feet at the sudden noise, before he realizes.

“hiehh– hiH’YIESHh’ooo!”

Jon finds himself damn near envious of Tim. He always seems so carefree and unashamed. Those were never qualities Jon shared, even with something as trivial as this. His own nose throbs fiercely in response.

“Wheew,” Tim sighs, lowering his hand with a dramatic sniff. “Sorry ‘bout that, not normally that affected by dust, but I guess if there’s enough it’ll get to anyone!”

There’s a beat of silence, Jon finding himself physically incapable of response. The tickle’s damn near unbearable. His entire being is aching for the release. He knows there’s no point in fighting, it’ll just make it worse when it finally breaks free, but still. A boss should be able to control themselves. The Head Archivist should be able to control their own body.

“What, no blessing?” Tim mocks playfully after a moment of silence passes. He pauses slightly when Jon still shows no sign of response. Finally, Tim seems to get bored, waving a hand in front of Jon’s face as he chuckles out, “Boss? You still in there?”

It’s barely a breeze, but the movement is enough to stir the dust in the air around Jon’s face again. Imperceptible to anyone else, but Jon sees the particles begin to swirl. It’s just enough to break his focus, and he hardly has time to pinch his nose before the sneezes begin to break free.

“hh’nGT–! ah’gNDt–!”

“B-less you boss! See, that’s how you respond when someone sneezes-” Tim begins, trailing off slightly as Jon shows no signs of stopping.

“ah’gNT–! gNNT’ch-! hh’gNDTchh-! Good lord... h-hehh– ah’dNGT–iuh!”

“Bless you some more, wow you really-”

“hH’NNGT-iuh! ah’knDGT-dhh!”

By this point Tim has the decency to look concerned, reaching across Jon’s desk and pulling the tissues closer. Jon blearily grabs a handful, pausing for a series of desperate sounding hitches before ducking into the pile for a few more tight stifles.

“Damn, boss,” Tim says, seemingly a bit lost for words. If Jon’s misery wasn’t the sole cause, he might even find that a bit entertaining. It’s hardly a common occurrence for Tim to be speechless.

“‘Scuse mbe. I’b fide-” Jon begins, noticing Tim wince at the congestion in his voice. Can’t really blame him for that.

“You certainly sound ‘fide’,” Tim mocks gently, moving the tissues closer again. Jon blushes slightly at this, taking a few and turning away politely to blow his nose. Tim, for his part, seems unfazed by this, simply waiting until Jon finishes to resume his taunting.

“That was a hell of an attack, never knew you were so allergic to dust!”

“I’m not,” Jon starts, almost by instinct. Tim’s immediate raised eyebrow confirms there’s really no way out of it this time. “Alright, maybe a little, but it’s usually not nearly this bad. I juhh… hehh– eh’GNDt–iuh! Excuse me. Just forgot to take my medication this mor- enGT-uhh! Excuse me. This morning.”

Tim looks a touch taken aback, staring at Jon with a face Jon can’t quite place. Almost… concern, but with a bit of respect?

“How do you function like this?”

“It’s not normally like this,” Jon replies, massaging the brink of his nose gently. “That’s the point of the medication. I simply was in a rush this morning, and it slipped my mind to take.. t- take… hH’ENGT-dhh! ah’kNDt-iuhh! Excuse me. To take some. Then with your little file incident-”

“Yeah, sorry ‘bout that,” Tim interrupts, giving a bit of a smile. It’s equal parts sheepish and mocking. “If I’d known you were so allergic, I’d have been a lot more careful.”

Jon fights back his lecture about ‘carelessness in the archives’, and instead settles for a deep sigh. “It’s alright. No way you could have. Like I said, it’s usually quite manageable.”

“Well,” Tim continues, “It’s still quite early. You could run home and grab some medication, I’m sure the archives can survive without you for a quick hour or so-”

“I appreciate the suggestion,” Jon cuts him off, “but I’m fine. I am perfectly capable of running my archives.”

Tim simply shrugs. This is obviously a battle he doesn’t feel like fighting. Jon gives his nose another rub, shivering slightly at the lingering tickle that’s steadily only growing worse.

“Ihh.. If there’s nothing else?”

“Nope! That was all. I’ll leave you to it,” Tim replies, starting to exit the room. Just before he leaves though, he turns on his heel and gives Jon another winning smile. “Oh, and I’ll be sure to tell Martin to pick up some more tissues.”

Jon just grimaces, half certain Tim’s simply trying to get a reaction out of him. But knowing the man, he’ll do it just to get some entertainment. Still, telling him not to would just be ensuring it happens. There’s really no winning here.

Thankfully, Tim closes the door as he leaves, and Jon finally has at least enough privacy to let out another small fit without prying eyes.

“hH– enGdt-iuh! eh’gNT-uhh! ah’ngxT–! eiH’ZSHhhuh! Good lord…”

The last one breaks free, and Jon silently hopes Tim was far enough to not hear it. It’s mortifying enough that Tim’s witnessed what he has, he certainly doesn’t need to see or hear anything further.

Sheer power of will carries Jon through the next two statements relatively uneventfully. Sure, the recording has to be rapidly paused once or twice, but that’s simply a slight malfunction that he quickly corrects. On audio you should hardly be able to tell.

One such… malfunction, however, does manage to slip onto a tape. Of course it had to be one that would only record on the damn tapes. Jon internally (and perhaps externally) curses the statements for refusing the digital plane. A slight hint of editing could remove this error in mere moments, as he perhaps did with a few others. Instead, he sighs deeply, ignoring how damn itchy that sigh was, and rewinds the tape.

“Statement of Elyse Williams regarding unusual activity in her attic. Original statement given March 21st, 2011. Audio recording by Johh…”

Jon pauses for a second, collecting himself and stalling off the impending interruption.

“Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Mahh… hH- h’nDGxt–dhh! Christ.”

The tape clicks off again, and the whirring sound of it rewinding sets Jon’s teeth on edge. Head archivist of the damn Magnus Institute! What kind of archivist, head archivist, can’t even control themselves long enough to record a statement.

With the next go he manages to make it almost halfway through before another interruption.

“It was then that I saw them, crawling all… all around my… hihh– eh’knDgt! ek’nGDt–dhh! Good lord.”

This time he doesn’t even bother rewinding, settling instead for grabbing a new tape entirely. He’ll record over this tape later, but with so much to rewind… it would simply be a waste of time to do it now.

“Statement of Elyse Willaims regarding unusual actihh… activity in her attic. Original statement gi- hh’nXGt! given March 21st, 2011. Audio reco- eh’ngDT–dhh! Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head… hhh– Head Ar… Archivistofthe- hk’ZSHHieuhh! Goddamn it!”

There’s a timid knock at the door, and it takes everything Jon has not to throw something at it. Letting out a low groan, Jon clicks the tape off and calls out, “Come in, Martin.”

As expected, the door swings open to reveal Martin with a collection of boxes stacked in his arms. He seems to hesitate slightly in the doorway, futilely attempting to control the concern and worry lacing his features.

“S-sorry to bother you, I was just looking over some of these files and had a few questions about the research you asked me to do- oh, but you’re recording and I should have checked and I’m-”

Jon sighs loudly, cutting off Martin’s rambling. “It’s fine. I was… taking a break. What are the questions?”

Martin starts off on them, most of which are fairly trivial and Jon finds his headache beginning to grow. He manages to sneak a couple of silent stifles, passing them off with a light cough or simply timing them when Martin’s preoccupied.

“Martin-” Jon finally interrupts, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose. He can pass it off as the headache that he does have, but he can’t help but admit it might have more to do with the blooming tickle. After a pause he continues, “make a list of the questions. Tim and Sasha can handle most of them, and the ones they can’t I’ll answer or pass on for Elias to answer.”

“Oh, r-right!” Martin stutters, gathering up the boxes into his arms again and heading for the door. He pauses, once again lingering at the entrance.

“Is there somethh… something else?” Jon asks, pressing his tongue to the roof of his mouth. The tickle is growing unmanageable, and he has mere minutes to get Martin out of his office.

Martin’s still standing, fidgeting with the boxes as he seemingly builds up the courage for something. Irritating at the best of times, of which these are decidedly not. Jon can’t help but sigh, though he does notice a slight shudder run through Martin at the sound.

He can’t linger on this however, as the sigh pushes his nose over the edge and he finds himself ducking into his wrist for a tightly contained- “hk’nGDT!”

“Oh, bless you Jon!” Martin says. Apparently able to form words now. Perfect timing.

“Thank you, do excuse me. Now, are you just planning to wait in my office for the remainder of the workday?”

The tone is harsh, and he knows it. There’s a pang in his chest as Martin’s face falls for a moment, but Jon quickly crushes it. He’s wasting time, and lord knows they don’t have enough of that to spare. They should both be working. The tone is warranted.

Despite this, Jon finds himself softening slightly when he speaks again. “Is there anything further I can help you with, Martin?”

“N-no, not really, just the questions, I’ll make the list like you said,” Martin rambles, still not moving towards the hall. Jon raises an eyebrow, not missing the way Martin blushes slightly.

“O-okay… well… yes, there is… well-”

“hk’gNDt–dhh! Excuse me.”

“Bless you, that’s actually- that’s uh, that’s actually what I wanted to…” Martin trails off, setting the boxes on the ground and rummaging through one of them. He produces a box of tissues along with a handful of travel packs, and Jon curses Tim under his breath.

“So I take it Tim told you to… t-to… hk’nGT–dh! Excuse me. Tim told you to bring those?”

Martin mumbles a blessing, but lets Jon finish his sentence otherwise uninterrupted. There’s another awkward silence as Martin stands frozen, eyes wide as he seems to be running through a million possible answers in his head.

“He- he did mention something, yeah,” The answer finally comes, Martin blushing slightly again as he places the box on Jon’s desk. “But um… well, you’ve also been- it’s uh, it’s not exactly been… subtle?”

The tone pitches up towards the end, and Jon feels the heat begin spreading over his own face in return. He wants to say something, make some form of denial, but… he’s not an idiot. And at this point, denial might be a bit out of reach.

Case in point, Jon finds his breath catching again, his mouth falling open slightly. Martin takes notice of this, and timidly holds out a travel pack, offering a warm smile that Jon merely glimpses as his eyes begin to flutter closed. He accepts them, weighing the embarrassment of accepting help with the mortification of letting this fit out into his hands.

“Thankyou-” Jon manages, breathy and high, before he ducks into his stapled hands, tissues pressed in them.

“hH’nDGt–dhh! hk’gnDXt–uhh! Excuse me. Oh god… I’m gon- gonna… hH’DZSHHhuhh! eh’zzZSHhhh’oo! hH’DZSHhhuh!”

The last of the fit breaks free, and Jon finds himself blushing behind his hands.

“Bless you a lot, Jon, Christ. Are you alright?”

“I’b fide-” Jon starts, still from behind his wall of tissues. There’s no point in attempting any discretion now, and he gives Martin an apologetic glance before swivelling in his chair and blowing his nose. It barely helps the itch, but it does help reduce some of the congestion before he speaks again.

“I’m fine. Please do excuse me, that was-”

“Quite the show!” Martin interrupts, laughter beginning to seep into his tone. It doesn’t feel cruel, nor does it even carry the tone of mocking Jon had grown so accustomed to from Tim. This laughter feels… almost light. As if he’s included in the joke, instead of being the subject of it. Despite himself, Jon feels the hint of a smile ghost his face.

No. It’s unprofessional, and… he has to be mocking him… just, he’s better at hiding it. That's worse than Tim's blatant lack of respect. At least he doesn't pretend to... to care.

“I suppose. Now, back to work,” Jon says, letting the ice dip into his voice.

Martin blushes a bit, beginning to stammer again, “R-right, of course, well I just- I mean, I didn’t mean- I’m just- I don’t want to pry but… I wasn’t- uh, are you sure you’re fit to work right now…?”

The question is almost whispered, Martin’s voice dropping off in what might be… concern? Jon finds himself biting down the urge to reply. To tell Martin that no, he’s not fit to work, he needs to go home, and that he just feels… miserable, to put it frankly. But no, it isn’t concern. It’s… pity. It has to be pity.

“I am fine,” Jon begins, standing from his chair. “I am more than fit to continue my work, and more than that I am capable of continuing to act as your boss. This is nothing I can’t hahh– hH’NdXGt–dhh! Nothing I can’t handle.”

Martin whispers a blessing, but goes a bit pale while doing so. Jon feels that familiar pang start in his chest, the one that says… maybe you went too far. Honestly, he’s not even sure why Martin brings that out of him. Tim mocks him all the time, Sasha even can cast a glance and throw a joke but… somehow when it’s Martin it just…

“S-sorry, you’re right, I’m sorry-” Martin’s rambling cuts through Jon’s thoughts just in time for him to see Martin beginning to walk into the hall.

“No, I’m sorry Marti-” Jon starts, but finds it comes out merely a whisper. The door closes, and he hears Martin’s footsteps retreating down the hall.

Well, that’s that. Jon grabs a handful of tissues, choosing the box Martin had brought for… well because it’s closer. That’s why. That’s the only reason why.

He blows his nose a few times, letting out another stray “hH–dnGt’uh!” into the soft folds. After a few rounds of this, he clears his throat, and finds the quality satisfactory. He still sounds a bit rough around the edges, but on such an old device you should hardly be able to tell.

Clicking on the tape again, Jon starts the statement over from the beginning. Again. He pointedly ignores the guilt beginning to fester in his chest, devoting himself entirely to the recording. He was merely being the boss, doing what he needed to do. Martin was speaking out of turn, and had to be reminded of such.

Still… he makes a mental note to thank Martin for the tissues next time he sees him. Suppose maybe he’s not entirely useless after all.

“Right, now then,” Jon says, grabbing his papers and placing the recorder in front of him.

“Statement of Elyse Willams regarding unusual activity in her attic. Original statement given March 21st, 2011. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London. Statement begins.”

#waterfallasks #waterfallwrites #thank you for the request!! i dont think this is exaaactly the same as what you asked for #but i had the ideas and wanted to write this so i hope i still managed to get enough of what you were looking for!!#dust allergy j/on is such a beloved of mine like AUGH!! he absolutely WOULD wouldnt he~ insert dreamy sigh here~#snz #snzfic #snz fic #snzkink #snzblr #the m/agnus a/rchives

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twwings · 4 months ago

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so I spent the last few months just marathoning The Magnus Archives??? I was curious and I have a long-ish commute that I need to fill with audio, so I went for it. I was somewhat spoiled by fanart I saw randomly over the years but not entirely spoiled, and I quite enjoyed it. Some thoughts (both positive and negative thoughts below) because I wanted to write them down as I chew over the show. Also my ramblings might be pleasurable to folks who are big fans and enjoy hearing about people listening to their thing for the first time?

Spoilers for all of TMA, but as I haven't listened to The Magnus Protocol yet (I'm sure I will) no spoilers for that.

thoughts in no particular order:

didn't know that my trypophobia could be activated aurally! thanks, season one. it's good to learn about yourself

because I had seen lots of fanarts around, I knew that Jon/Martin would eventually be a canon thing, so I just spent the early episodes making fun of Jon whenever he was mean about Martin. Jon would be like "ugh, Martin, amirite?" and I'd yell at the car speakers like "lol you're gonna MARRY that guy"

sometimes I found the show a little boring or too expositiony (like the episode where Leitner shows up) and it made me think a lot about the conditions of production, like, having fans who were super into the show and red stringing it up clearly made them want to explain things sometimes in a way not necessary to the story - or, at least, it didn't feel necessary to me as a casual listener who was coming in after the fact and not part of the fandom. maybe it felt necessary for other folks, or to the cast and crew at the time.

relatedly, oh god, I did not keep up with all the plotlines and stuff. like it took me a WHILE to realize that the show was not just gonna be standalone/anthology stuff and would have an overarching plot so I did not pay attention early on to repeated names or plots. and because I was listening on my commute I was like "welp, can't google it, gonna let it go" and I did. I'm here to tell you that the magnus archives is still enjoyable even if you don't care that much about what's going on

when I did really start to care was the end of season four/season five. absolutely love that they went there with the end of season four (I thought it'd just be a buffy-style "now we fight a BIGGER big bad at the end of this season" escalation forever, but no, they unleashed hell on earth, baller move, A+, loved it

so I was spoiled that Martin (and Jon? I wasn't sure) died at some point, though I didn't really know where or how. I also saw someone post something like "oh TMA, great show, too bad it ends after five minutes into episode 160" so from that I kind of extrapolated that Martin died in episode 160? so my experience of listening to that one was REALLY on tenterhooks because the first five minutes was Martin going for a nice walk! and then Jon getting taken over by the statement! so while listening to the middle bit of 160 I was convinced that when Martin came back from his walk Jon was gonna kill him (while possessed, obviously) as part of the ritual thing. so really the following 40 episodes of Martin being alive were pretty sweet to me. Every episode after that when Martin was alive I was like, score, bonus, love it, I'm glad Jon didn't stab him three seconds after they got into a relationship

kept listening for a physical description of Jon to match all the fanart and never got one? I guess the fanon of what Jon looks like is just super consistent for some reason?

hated Tim, I can't disguise it, I hated Tim and I was glad when he died and I was glad he didn't come back, sorry Tim fans, live your truth and I will live mine

wish there weren't so many cops on this show, tho the show did seem to recognize that a little in S5 and try to do some things about it

I'm just a huge sucker for every genre experiment in S5. omg I loved it. Terminus gets a coroner's report, The Unknowing gets slam poetry, The Flesh gets a gardening manual?????? mwah. it made me excited for the format of the statements again when they'd gotten stale. so many smart and interesting genre experiments in S5! and I, like Jon, don't even like poetry (just write some prose! I've never identified with a character more), so you know I'm impressed when I'm exclaiming about some poem

seriously! the genre experiments!!! so good

"queer couple navigate their new relationship and also The Hellscapes" = amazing, ty, also ty for doing it twice

somehow I managed not to notice the line about Jon being asexual at first and then I saw some tumblr post about it and I was like, wait what? my brain had gone pretty far down into some non-asexual fanfiction stories before I got that bit of canon and had to record-scratch freeze-frame. anyway I am pleased by the ace rep and hope to go read some non-sexual D/s for them in the future, please tell me if you know some good stuff

please also tell me if you know about fanfictions where Martin consensually feeds Jon his own memories and it's weird and intense

saw a cute fluffy domestic fanart where Jon was blind (ie had blinded himself to escape the eye) and I laughed and laughed that this is a fandom in which the happy fluffy AUs are the ones where the characters have violently blinded themselves. not to say I'm not gonna read the fluffy AUs where they've violently blinded themselves, I am, I'm sure they're lovely, it's just funny

don't think I wasn't thinking about Crowley and Aziraphale in the episode where Jon is like "what if we ran away together" in season four. When Jon is like "What if we ran away together, you and me, we could do it, what if we did" and he absolutely knows that Martin is not gonna say yes and maybe he doesn't want Martin to say yes but he wants to ask him anyway, he wants to try it anyway, because the fantasy of escape, together, is overpowering. anyway don't think I didn't think about Crowley

also laughed and laughed at the like four episodes at the end where Jon is like "maybe I should . . . . . . . . . . . become the Torment Nexus? From the classic scifi novel, Don't Become the Torment Nexus?" and first Martin and then everyone else is like "Jon, don't become the Torment Nexus" and it's really clear that you should not become the Torment Nexus but then later Jon says fuck it and becomes the Torment Nexus

I say it's really clear but the idea that you should strand and isolate and burn out the powers is not a bad one. I did like that the second to last episode was just a debate on morality with no clear resolution. that's a lovely way to send off your characters. tho it didn't matter a lot to the end plot? but still.

Jon "I think I'll just become the Torment Nexus" Simms, istg

THE TORMENT NEXUS

Sue Simms' voice is incredibly hot, Gertrude Robinson is absolutely deadass smokin, love how the Legend of Gertrude just built up over the seasons until by the end she was this like powerful callous avenging angel, no notes, might build a shrine in the woods with pictures of Gertrude in little jars

Gerry and Jurgen were both madly in love with her and she didn't notice or care because she was too busy kicking ass, no notes AT ALL

I really like the bit at the beginning of S5 where Jon is depression-listening to old archives tapes, like it's really effective to do the birthday party flashback just there when the world's just been apocalypsed, but I can't stop thinking about how Jon is listening to that tape and, in retrospect, being like "did Elias/Jonah use his all-powerful knowledge and vision to find out that there was cake in the office?" idk it really feels like Elias's motives in that flashback are like "eat cake" and no one else realizes that he's used his monstrous evil eye power to locate cake. anyway I imagine that Jon had all of these thoughts during his depression

Basira made me laugh ALL THE TIME, the voice acting was so good and she was so over everyone's shit. but at the same time there's this real softness to her at the end of S5 after she's killed Daisy, like she's still tough and grounded in her own perspective but suddenly more compassionate or sympathetic. she has such a good journey over the show

were Basira and Daisy a thing? I could not tell. maybe I should not ask. maybe I am not meant to know. maybe even asking shows how little I know, because their intense and murderous bond exceeds traditional relationship categories

I had a really nice time!!!

I will need to read fanfictions

I will need to watch animatics

I will need to seek out fanarts

the end

#the magnus archives #tma #jonmartin

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somuchbetterthanthat · 4 months ago

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Jonelias day 3! It's when people start to realize that, wait, I truly do have an endless recurring theme, huh. Setting: sick // Prompt: confessions

This... was not what Elias had expected. The goal, of course, had always been for Jon to be marked by the encounter in some fashion, and Elias had been eagerly waiting for it. This was to be the first stepping stone to his grand and final plan, after all, the apotheosis of centuries of work -- And yet, as Jon laid down on the ground, worms burrying into his skin, there had been no satisfaction whatsoever.

Hours later, Jon trembling with fever in Elias's bed, Elias still couldn't make out what had gone wrong -- or, rather, he feared he understood too well, but the idea was so ludicrous it was hard to entertain.

Half gone from both the sickness and the medication he'd taken for it, Jon was murmuring under his breath bribes of statements, mostly from the Corruption, his voice regularly shifting to the pitch of Jane Prentiss. Elias sat next to him, running a fresh wet towel over his face and neck, and kept staring, and staring, and staring.

Jon was going to be better in the morning -- he was too tied to the Institute for a few worms to claim him, and even if he hadn't, the spiders were protecting him; a few had slipped under his tongue a couple of hours ago, no doubt to devour the last remains of the unwanted parasites. Elias ought to let them to it, ought to let Jon to it, have him fully take in the encounter so that he may wake up stronger, changed, more beautiful still than he'd already been --

But he couldn't. Just as he hadn't been able to stop himself from bringing Jon home to him, ignoring Jon's fervent and exhausted insistence he was going to be just fine on him own despite having fainted mere minutes before, while finishing to interview Martin. Just he hadn't been able to stop his arm from pulling the handle of the fire sprinklers much earlier than first planned.

"I didn't think you'd care," Jon had muttered in the car, shivering, annoyed and quiet and still painfully grateful not to be alone after all this, no matter what he said out loud.

"You almost died, Jon," Elias had retorted, voice tight.

"Maybe you'll believe me next time I tell you a supernatural monster is hunting us," Jon had snarked, before slouching a little bit more into the car seat, eyes half closing. "You saved me, though. I guess I haven't said thank you yet, have I?"

"Rest," Elias had ordered, but Jon had fumbled to grab his arm, very briefly.

"Thank you," he'd whispered.

"What have you done to me, you terrible thing?" Elias asked now, at last, very softy. His hand brushed against Jon's cheek, who unconsciously leaned into it with a gentle sigh. "The Mother wouldn't have given you to me if they didn't wish for the same thing I do," he continued, all too aware of how tender his tone was. "If you were always meant to distract me, then why let Prentiss attack us at all? Is it all you, Jon? What do you have than none of the others had?"

Had Elias underestimated his own loneliness those past decades, that he would be so taken by this new young man to forget what truly mattered? Had it been easier to discard past lovers because they weren't made of the same ilk he was, or because he'd been then surrounded by many more people to fall in love with next? Was this a fancy, a midlife crisis, as it were, two centuries in the making, or was it just that Jon was everything Elias hadn't thought he would find one day? A mirror; a potential equal; a true partner, at last.

"I suppose I do truly love you," he confessed, slowly. The truth, not quite agreeable, seemed to be fearsome enough that Jon's eyes suddenly opened wide to look back at Elias. Elias shivered and considered killing him, right there, right then. It wouldn't be hard to explain away, after today, and Elias would not even have to fake the heartbreak.

But no. Just because it wasn't what he had expected didn't mean that it couldn't be interesting in its own right. Just because Elias hadn't wanted it didn't mean he wasn't curious about following another path, one closer to Jon and less focused, at least for now, on ending the world properly.

"Let's see together where this lead us," he told Jon. "It's been a very long time since I prioritized love, if I ever did at all -- this ought to feel novel for the both of us."

It seemed appropriate, then, to lean forward and kiss Jon. To make a proper vow out of it.

"Elias?" Jon mumbled, vaguely, against his lips.

"Shh," crooned Elias, now quite decided. "Sleep. Tomorrow is going to be full of surprises for the both of us, my love."

#the magnus archives #joneliasweek2024 #Can You Guess What The Theme Is #Am I Subtle Enough #god i love them #but i love elias loving jon more than anything else in the world #tma stories

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devine-fem · 11 months ago

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(D+J) The Valentine's Day I’ve been thinking about.

I’ve been thinking about Jon and Damian having been together for a fair amount of time, just enough to make Valentines important. Damian doesn’t try to go out of his way a lot but he wants to this time. He’s been planning something for Jon, something he thinks will make him very happy.

He’s been trying to learn kryptonese with the help of Kara. She was not a good teacher so much at first but he was a good student. At night if she wasn’t available he’d shovel through his Dad’s files on Kryptonians and study the alphabet and vocabulary.

He wants to surprise Jon with all his hard work and be able to speak his language. He knows he only picks up kryptonese from Chris and his Dad but beyond that, there are few people who he can share that with.

When they meet, Jon’s the one who thinks he’s surprising Damian with a haul of clothes he’s been gawking at and his favorite vegen dishes he suffered through cooking up. He’s dumbfounded when Damian thanks him in Kryptonese, actually he even thought he misheard him.

When he realizes what’s happening he throws back an “I’m glad you like it,” as a joke but when Damian understands and replies casually, his mouth gapes open.

He’s so happy, so purely happy, he can’t sit down anymore - he practically flew to him, berating Damian with questions on where he learned it from and how his punctuation is so good.

Damian’s proud of himself but less proud when Jon sheds a tear, then another, and then his smile just fades. So does Damian’s and now it stops being so proud.

Jon just cries and cries, Damian asks why he’s crying but he keeps saying “I don’t know,” all he can do is hold him tight till it passes.

If he was honest to himself that was the truth, he didn’t know, he was just as confused as Damian when he couldn’t stop himself from shoking on his own spit. Maybe, it had something to do with how at home he felt, or the way it felt so cared about and respected, like sometimes it’s easy to forget that you belong to the Earth as it’s easy to forget some people belong to you. He thought it couldn’t possibly affect him like the others - thought he’d be the one to break the cycle but alas, there still was pain that almost flowed in his blood.

Damian asked him if he didn’t want him to do that anymore but no, Jon insisted that he did and asked if maybe he could do the same for him sometime.

#cw: generational trauma #i dont mean any harm by this its just a drabble #jondami #damian wayne #jon kent #supersons #super sons #jonathan kent #damijon #dc comics

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unmotivatedwrit3r · 1 year ago

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One in Eleven Million (ch. 2)

damian wayne x reader x jon kent

(A/N): so uh it's been more than a week...my apologies. But I hope you all enjoy! Ch. 1 is linked here.

wc: ~1300

warnings: planes, mild cursing

You made it to the Ks before the loudspeaker crackled again.

“Hello ladies and gentlemen, this is your pilot once again. It’s looking like we will require more time than expected to resolve the maintenance issue. There will be a further 50 minute delay. Passengers are welcome to step off the plane and return if desired. Thank you again for your patience.”

Around you, whispers and rustling picked up. Flight attendants repeated the pilot’s message and you sighed, slumping back against your seat.

When you looked down at your phone screen it was black. Tapping it gave you the time: already 45 minutes past the already delayed departure time. The sky was dark when you looked out the windows now. Beside you, Jon and Damian conversed quietly and you made an effort to not eavesdrop. Whatever they decided, you needed to focus more on deciding whether or not you wanted to get off the plane.

“Do you need me to let you guys out?” You asked them. You directed the comment to Jon, but technically you were speaking towards both of them. Damian’s book had been closed, resting on an open tray table. He was instead typing rapidly on his phone. Jon turned from where he was watching his friend.

“Not worth it,” Damian muttered, pulling on a jacket. You caught a glimpse of a white bandage on his bicep surrounded by a deep bruise before it disappeared underneath.

Jon shrugged. “I don’t really like airports any more than I like airplanes so I don’t really care. Are you leaving?”

You shook your head.

“Not sure it’s worth it. I don’t want to have to remember to come back for whatever obscure time they give us or be stuck if the time changes.”

“So we’re all staying then?” Jon asked. You nodded. He pulled his phone back out, opening the app again. “Movie?”

You smiled. A flutter of excitement bloomed in your chest.

“Yeah, let’s do it.”

By the time you were at the Ts, you’d switched to using Jon’s phone to search the database and yours to write down titles that piqued your interest. Outside, the steady beeping sound that had been your background noise for the last indeterminate amount of time was joined by a drilling noise. You forcibly untensed your shoulders. It was unpleasant but tolerable. Next to you, though, Jon’s face was screwed up in discomfort.

“Jon? You okay?” Jon looked up from his lap, face pinched tightly.

“Yeah it’s just loud.” On Jon’s other side, Damian retrieved something from his bag and handed it to Jon. Earbuds, you realized as he put them in. The tension in Jon’s face lessened.

“Thanks,” he told Damian. “I thought I’d forgotten those. I didn’t think I’d need them.”

One side of Damian’s lips quirked up.

“You did forget them. But I assumed you’d want them eventually.”

“Yeah I didn’t exactly plan for—you know.”

“No one plans for multiple hour delays,” you added sympathetically.

Jon looked confused for a moment before his eyes widened.

“Oh, planes, yeah.”

Behind him, Damian let out an amused huff and re-opened his book. You just laughed, turning back to the movies.

“Up for the rest?”

Jon unlocked his phone.

“If we agree that The Last Jedi does not belong on the list, then yes.” You met his teasing grin with one of your own.

“Oh we do. But I’m still not putting Titanic on it.”

Jon sighed dramatically.

“Fine. At least you have a decent taste in Star Wars movies.”

You still hadn’t made it to the end of the movies list—the conversation had morphed into a debate over the best Clone Wars episodes—by the time the loudspeaker rang again.

“Okay, that’s true,” Jon conceded. “But the lost episodes rewrite a lot of–”

You checked your phone for the time as soon as the pilot’s voice—familiar now, unfortunately—clicked on. Despite the promised 50 minute wait time, it had been over an hour since the last announcement.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it looks like we will not be able to take off tonight. We won’t have the part needed to replace the one in this plane for a few hours, so we’ll get you folks out of here once we can taxi back to a gate. Check your emails for your complimentary hotel stay and your boarding passes for updated flight times. We apologize again for the inconvenience.”

For a moment, the plane was silent. Then it was anything but. People stood quickly, pulling carry-on suitcases from the overhead containers. For a moment, you had to process the announcement. And then it hit you.

“Wait I have no clothes with me, are you fucking kidding?” You realized. You might as well have been talking to thin air for all the answers you got. At least your daily medication was in your bag.

Your phone, long off of airplane mode, stayed stubbornly email free. Beside you, a couple you guessed was a little older than you was conversing about their own hotel reservation, already sent to their phones.

Jon leaned to his left, watching as Damian read through what you assumed was his own hotel email.

“Does it say what time we need to be back?” You asked, refreshing your boarding pass. The departure time changed once more, this time to 3:46am. You sighed. Great. “Never mind. I guess we need to be back by 3:20. Except—wait if we leave we need to go through security again. So 2:30 I guess.”

“There must be a nicer hotel closer to us that we can get a room for,” Damian said. Beside him, Jon shrugged.

“I don’t know much about hotels. Is there a company hotel around?”

“No. But a hotel of the quality they’re sending us to should barely be considered quality at all.”

Your phone finally binged with an email notification. A google search revealed your hotel to be 30 minutes away and pretty mediocre. The email also gave information about shuttles to get passengers to and from the hotels. You skimmed it quickly. The shuttle that would get you back to the airport by 2:30 left at 1:30 am.

“Six hundred for tonight isn’t bad at all,” Damian continued behind you.

“Six hundred dollars for half a night in a hotel?” you blurted without thinking, incredulous. “Why would you do that?”

Damian looked at you, eyes sharp in the dim light of the cabin.

“I mean, there’s no way you get quality sleep tonight either way,” you defended, “so why not take the crappy provided room with transportation? We have to be back in like five hours anyway.”

You could see Damian weighing your words even as you regretted them. Who were you to tell them what to do? You liked Jon. You did not know Damian.

“The terrible hotel is more efficient, you’re right,” Damian said with a sigh. “There’s little difference to me in the actual beds. I’ve slept on worse.”

You sighed a silent sigh of relief. Beside you, the line of departing passengers finally started moving.

Jon leaned over Damian’s phone and opened the email up again.

“It says we’re at the Bluiett.” He looked up. “Where are you?”

You rescanned your email. Your lips quirked up as you scanned through the provided information.

“Me too.”

Jon leaned back in his chair.

“Oh thank god. Neither of us know how to get out of here. And I’ve never taken a shuttle before.”

You laughed, tugging your coat on and pulling your bag onto your lap. The line shifted forwards again and you stepped out of your seat, slinging one strap over your shoulder.

“I wouldn’t call myself a frequent flier but I do know enough for that. Follow me.”

“Tt,” you heard Damian mutter behind you. “We could easily figure it out.”

Jon chuckled as he stepped out behind you, pulling a red carry-on from the overhead storage. Your smile widened.

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader x jonathan kent #damian wayne x reader x jon kent #damian wayne x gender neutral reader #jonathan kent imagine #jon kent imagine #jonathan kent #emerson writes sometimes

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tiredtogepi · 5 months ago

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A Lady & Her Hounds

Chapter 1

The Hound x Fem!Reader (Jon Arryn's daughter; Sabrina)

This chapter contains: Fluff | Brat

Word count: 1146

*this is my first GOT fan fiction. There are many chapters with mostly fluff, some angst, and mature content ;) I hope that someone will read it and enjoy it*

Dogs have always fascinated you. The way they create bonds, love their humans, their loyalty, and friendliness. Being Jon Arryns daughter was not bad but, you felt left out most of the time since he married Lysa and their son was born. That's when the dogs came into your life. Some Lord from the north had offered puppies from his newest litter as a gift for your name day. Your father wasn't so happy about it, but he let you keep it so you could finally have some company. Initially, you had 3 dogs, but a few years later after contacting more breeders, you found yourself with a pack of 15 dogs.

You took your time to train them for protection during the conflict between the Mad King and Robert Baratheon. They obeyed you well, they looked out for you, but most of all they loved you, their loyalty was not questionable and they would give their life to save you. When the war was over your father was named hand of the king and you all moved to the Red Keep. You had begged your father to take at least some of your dogs but he wouldn't allow it. Luckily you were close enough to the working staff in The Eyrie to make sure they were well taken care of.

When you arrived at King’s Landing, King Robert made sure to have a feast in honor of the new hand and his family. He was a big man that had fought many battles and almost kept his intimidating factor intact, if it weren’t for the extra pounds he gained. What surprised you is that there were still knights protecting him.

During the feast the conversation around you was like some faded-out noise, but someone caught your attention. A tall man with a half-burned face and intense brown eyes. It was interesting to look at him, especially because of some slight facial expressions he made out of distaste for the conversations around, just like you.

"Ha! Lady Sabrina, I know about your interests in dogs but I didn't realize this one would interest you too!" Robert pointed at the man he was able to catch you staring at.

You blushed as that man at glanced at you.

"Pardon, your grace, I was lost in my thoughts." You gave a quick answer trying to avoid more embarrassment.

"No need for apologies. Sandor Clegane is a tough-looking man, our Hound!" The drunk king was getting more excited by the second. "Tell me Lady Sabrina, if we put your hounds and my hound in the arena against each other, which one would take the win?" He laughed and started choking on his own wine.

"I don't think any hound deserves to be put in that situation. I find it very distasteful, your grace." You stood up and bowed to the king while he laughed at your audacity.

"Are you leaving us already?" Robert inquired

"Yes, your grace. I am unwell, maybe I had too much wine." You were already slowly stepping away.

"Would you like to see the master?" your father asked, he always worried about your health, since your mother passed away from a terrible and silent disease, so any little symptom you had he would take it very seriously.

"No, thank you father, I will go get some books at the maester's library. If I need assistance I will call for it." You bowed lightly and as you turned your back the king spoke

"Clegane, accompany the lady to her chambers. She had a little much to drink and might need some help"

You rolled your eyes as you walked out and heard footsteps coming towards you. This is what you hated about this place. Too many people telling you what to do, keeping an eye on you, and always so many rules on what you can and can't do.

As you went to turn into the next hallway to the library Clegane stepped in front of you. You tried to go around him but he kept blocking your way.

"The king said to take you to your chambers." His tone was serious.

"Maybe you misheard it, but I need to get some books first." You tried to move away from him. He ignored you and kept blocking your way.

You tried to keep yourself composed since you had much anger and frustration stored inside you since coming to the king's landing. You took a big breath trying for the last time to be polite.

"Ser.."

"I'm no Ser."

"Seven hells! Let me go get my fucking books!" Maybe it was the alcohol that gave you the courage to raise your voice and push him out of the way, even though he didn't move an inch.

Apparently, that was amusing enough for him to let you go while he subtly smirked. You finally reached the maesters' library. The Hound stood by the entrance. You took a book, then another, then as you went to get the third book you had an idea.

"Ahem!" You cleared your throat to get his attention. He looked at you as you repeatedly looked down at the heavy books on your arms and up at him.

He scoffed and took your books.

''Wait, there's more!" You said it innocently as he turned around and you decided to find 2 of the heaviest books on forestry and wildlife and put it on top of the pile he was already carrying. He grunted.

"We can go now!" You said innocently, knowing you were being a brat. Honestly alcohol didn’t give you the best ideas.

As you found yourself by your chamber door, Clegane leaned down to hand you the books. You stepped away, opening the door to your room.

"Could you place them inside on that little table?" This time you weren't trying to be inconvenient, but there was no way you could carry all that weight.

Clegane tried to hide his annoyance. He thought you were just another spoiled highborn like Joffrey or Cersei. He placed the books on the table aggressively. You tried to walk around the table to accompany him to the door, but you tripped on one of your book piles on the floor and fell with your face on the big man's chest. He didn't move, you put your hands on his chest to get back on your feet.

"Pardon me...I think I've had too much to drink." You mumbled. He looked down to stare at you making sure you didn't get hurt on his armor. You blushed and looked away as he started to leave.

"Why do they call you The Hound?" You asked as he was almost by the door. He stopped and didn't turn around.

"Why do you care?" He grunted.

"What should I call you then?"

"Don't call me." He replied as he walked away.

#sandor clegane #the hound #sandor the hound clegane #game of thrones #got #fanfic #sandor x reader

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farfaras · 2 years ago

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I think I got an ex but I forgot him.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3 (this is it.) AO3 link.

–

Their plan changed. Them planing to come out changed things, mostly the storyline they were going for. Jonathan realizing he was lonely and didn’t actually love Steve as a way to end the relationship seemed too gut wrenching for a baby gay to witness. So that was out.

The timing of them getting together would stay the same. But instead of those elaborate phases they planned, they would just take it one day at a time. Like normal couples would. When they decide to break up, they would just say they realized they work better as friends. Simple, easy.

Today was probably the hardest part of the plan. Coming out to everyone. Dustin actually convinced them, made them believe that the whole crew would be supportive. If anything went sideways Steve was definitely putting this on him.

They had get togethers almost weekly now. It was a comfort thing. Most of the time the brats used these gatherings to play their nerd game. The rest of them just hanging out. Steve only wished Mike took better care of his basement.

The party and Eddie were playing their game on the table. Steve made sure he sat down close to Jonathan, Robin on his other side. Eleven and Max were reading some comics in the corner, on a beanbag. They looked comfortable.

Steve was anxious. He didn’t know how Jonathan could take this level of anticipation and anxiousness. He was fidgeting almost violently, so Jonathan took his hand in his. Robin, who was in the middle of a rant, faltered for a second before going back to talking. Both Steve and Jon’s attention on her. Even though she was still talking, she looked Steve in the eyes and raised a single brow. He knew what she was asking. He hopefully telepathically sent the right message.

When the party announced that they finished their session for today, Mike rushed to get some drinks. Jonathan dropped his hand and resumed his previous position. Steve caught Will and Eddie curiously eyeing the movement, while Dustin was downright staring and not so subtlely hiding his grin.

Everyone was chatting amongst themselves, when Mike returned Jonathan cleared his throat. “Uh, guys?” His voice was slightly louder than it normally was. Also firm. “We have some news.”

Mike raised an eyebrow. “Who’s we?”

Steve spoke up. “Me and Jonathan.”

“Unexpected but welcomed duo, huh.” Robin tried to lighten the mood. It was like every time someone heard the word news they assumed the worst. Steve gave her a grateful glance.

“It’s nothing bad, don’t worry.” Steve reassured them. They seemed to relax at that, nodding and giving them their full attention. Jesus, their faces were earnest and curious. Steve didn’t know if he was gonna survive this. He turned to Jonathan. “Should you tell them or do you want me to do it?”

Jon gave him a small and teasing smile. “I’ll tell them. You got the worst of it already.”

“Hey! What the fuck? I thought we were cool, Jonathan.” Dustin protested when he heard Jon. And that reaction just proved his point.

Jon just stared blankly at him. “Someone just spit it out already.” Mike said, rolling his eyes like the impatient little shit he was.

“You just don’t know how to wait, huh.” Lucas shot back.

“Shut up.”

“Grow up, Mike.”

“Oh, please…”

Eddie’s voice cut through the argument dryly. “Kids! Please, just stay quiet so they can say what they need to.”

Jonathan muttered a quiet thanks before taking a deep breath, probably mentally preparing himself. “I’m just gonna say it.” He looked around, then directly at Steve, before addressing the whole group again. “Steve and I are dating.”

It was like Steve was able to watch all their reactions in slow motion. He mostly just felt Robin’s, her gasp and the way her neck almost fell off from how fast she turned to them. Eleven just nodded and went back to reading, he supposed they haven’t taught her all about what the world thinks about homosexuality? Max’s was kinda scary, she just smirked as if she was going through all the new material she had to tease Steve in her mind. Mike and Lucas both raised their eyebrows, they were comically up. Will’s eyes sparkled and widened at the revelation, he was surprised too. And Eddie was almost unreadable. His mouth slightly opened and he looked shocked, frozen.

Mike broke the silence. “There’s no way.”

“It’s true!” Dustin looked ready to defend them if anyone had something even remotely weird to say.

“You knew?!” Lucas almost shrieked.

“I did.” Dustin looked so proud.

Steve didn’t want to look at Robin right now, he had absolutely no idea how she might react. Or if she was gonna be mad about not knowing first. He felt a hand in his that wasn’t Jon, so he looked up to find Robin softly looking at him. She squeezed his hand. “Thanks for telling us, both of you.” She directed this to Jonathan, too.

“It’s kinda weird that you both dated the same girl,” Max started. “But I guess you’re cute, or whatever.”

“Cute or whatever.” El repeated. Still not paying much attention to them.

Steve laughed. “Thanks?” “I guess.” Added Jon.

The only ones who haven’t said anything were Will and Eddie. The rest of the room put their eyes on them.

“Oh. Um. Even if it’s kinda unexpected, that’s great.” Will nervously said. He looked around. “Right?” A chorus of yeses and rights filled the room. Steve could breathe easier.

“Yeah, great.” Eddie muttered. “We’re all happy for you guys.” His smile was small, almost subdued.

“Okay, now that that’s over,” Jonathan tried to end this conversation, the kids wouldn’t have that though.

“Wait! I have questions!” Lucas of all people exclaimed. “When was this?”

“Uh– well. We got together a few weeks ago. If that’s what you were asking.” Steve answered.

“When?”

“Like 2 weeks after.” Jon replied. They didn’t need to say after what, it was implied.

They answered all their questions with their planned answers.

Who made the first move? Actually Jonathan because Steve wanted to go at his pace.

How did they get together? Jonathan asked him after they came out to each other.

Were they in love? (This was El) At that, they got caught off guard, they didn’t expect someone to ask that. “We haven’t been together for long, El.” She didn’t seem to understand but left it alone after Max said she’d explain it to her later.

Everyone, like Dustin said, was supportive. Which they were grateful for. And Steve was also super happy for Will and Robin to see that their friends would support them too when they decided to come out.

Steve just didn’t know why Eddie was so quiet all of the sudden. He wasn’t like that, which made Steve worry he was actually not all that okay with this. He didn’t want that to be the case, he didn’t think that was the case. But people could surprise you sometimes.

Steve and Jonathan were holding hands while they answered questions. Whenever Steve chanced a glance at Eddie, he looked like he was staring at their hands but quickly redirected his gaze to something else. Steve felt uneasy.

All too soon it was time to go. Everyone was climbing the stairs, Jon was pulling his hand to get out of the basement. Eddie was still packing some of his stuff. Steve stopped walking. “Go ahead, I’ll catch up with you outside.” He told Jon and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He just nodded and left the basement. Now it was just Steve and Eddie.

“Hey, Eddie.”

“Yeah?”

“What’s up with you?” Steve hadn’t known Eddie for long. But during these last months they had developed a friendship, so Steve thought he knew Eddie an appropriate amount to know something was off.

Eddie’s eyes were slightly more open than usual. “Nothing’s up. Why do you think that?”

“Well, you were awfully quiet at the end there. Not really like you, is it?” Steve went up to Eddie so now they were standing in front of the other.

“Yeah, I’m just kinda tired you know.” He was looking down at his feet.

“You’re not… uncomfortable, are you?” Steve was scared that he might regret asking that. But the way Eddie wasn’t even looking at him right now, made it hard.

Eddie’s eyes widened and worry splayed over his face. “No!” He loudly said. “Not at all, please don’t think that.” He sighed. “I really am just tired, Steve. I promise.”

Steve nodded, maybe he was being paranoid. “Okay, I just. Well, I was worried for a sec.”

“I’m sorry.” Eddie moved his hand, like he was gonna rest it on Steve’s shoulder but then he aborted. Okay, that didn’t really help his case, but Steve wanted to believe him. “I know how I could’ve come across. But I’m happy for you, Steve. Um, both of you. You deserve it.” He smiled and didn’t give Steve time to respond before he bolted.

When Steve stepped outside, Eddie’s van was already gone. Will, Jon and Robin were waiting for him by his car.

“Just ‘cause you’re the boyfriend now doesn’t mean I’ll give you shotgun privileges, Byers. I hope you know that.” Robin deadpanned.

Jon put his arms up, innocently enough. “I didn’t expect you to.”

“Good.” Robin narrowed her eyes at him. “We’ll have to schedule our shovel talk, by the way.”

Will cackled while they all climbed into the car.

The ride was short, or more like it felt short. Steve didn’t even feel like time was passing with his friends making him laugh and happy.

He dropped off Jon and Will first. Jonathan gave him a peck on his cheek as a goodbye before he and Will entered their home.

Robin was awfully quiet when it was just the two of them left. She was unbuckling her seatbelt to get out when she decided to say something. “I could’ve sworn it was gonna take you longer to figure out your sexuality.” She looked at him, fondly. Steve was expecting a lot of things, but not that. “Even if I wasn’t given an exclusive, I’m happy for you, Dingus. Hope he treats you well.” She got out of the car with a salute, the dork.

What did Robin mean by all that?

This was like a whole other level of fucked up. The universe really liked to just tell Eddie “fuck you!” whenever it wanted. And this moment felt like it was up there, in the top 5.

It was one thing to have a crush on a straight friend, who was so unattainable that he didn’t even need to worry about ever bringing it up, outside of his mind. Steve was a great friend. Which just made him crush harder. It was so easy to almost, not completely, ignore it. Eddie had it all mapped out, he was gonna pine from afar until Steve got a girlfriend. Then he’d make himself get over him. He knew it wasn’t gonna be easy, but he had to. For his sanity.

Leave it to Jonathan freaking Byers, to throw that down the drain.

Eddie was well aware how bad his reaction was to the whole thing. He didn’t want Steve thinking the worst of him. He tried his best at reassuring him that he was happy for them! Even if he wasn’t at all. But at the end of the day, Eddie figured he’s still a coward. Because he ran so fast at the first opportunity he had to get out of there.

He supposed that now that Steve was taken, he still would have to get over him.

But it was so much worse now.

Steve being straight kinda softened the punch of any unrequited feelings Eddie had. He had to accept the cruel reality of Steve never even being able to return them. And he was sure he could live with that.

What he wasn’t sure he could live with is Steve liking guys, but still not liking him.

He bitterly wondered what could Jonathan possibly have that he didn’t. Which wasn’t fair at all because it wasn’t his fault that Steve would choose to date him instead of Eddie. Eddie even liked Jonathan.

This was gonna be torture. But Eddie knows that he was still gonna suffer through it. There wasn’t anything really, that could keep him away from Steve.

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jacaeryslover · 6 months ago

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RAISED BY WOLVES: a jon snow fanfic.

02.

it took some time to get the guardian of the north to accept your request, he knew it was going to be dangerous, but he couldn't say no to you, he loved you like you were his own blood.

arya was as thrilled as you, she couldn't wait to begin the journey to kings landing. " i hope i get to practice with my sword" she said to you, while mimicking the action of sword fighting, she also told you that jon gifted her a sword, and that she called it needle.

you knew that sansa was smitten by that baratheon boy, prince joffrey. but you wished to never be in his presence, he was a repulsive human being, and you saw that the days he stayed in your home. but love blinds you, or perhaps, dreams do.

somehow, the news travelled fast enough that they reached robb and jon. robb looked at you, analizing your expressions, like he knew that that was exactly what you needed, a look into your past. and jon didn't say a thing, maybe he didn't care enough to try and change your mind, or perhaps he cared so much, he couldn't say a thing. and you wished it was the latter.

later that day, robb stark entered your chambers, and only the old gods and the new ones knew what the young wolf had to do to put his hands on the old book. "this is for you, sister. so you don't forget your blood, and hopefully, you discover more about it in your journey" he said, placing the valyrian book on the girls hands.

"thank you, robb. i- i don't even know what to say. thank you, brother" you heard your voice cracking, knowing he did too, you hugged him really tight. since the day you arrived, he cared for you, and loved you as an older brother would. and you were really grateful.

"it's nothing, the next time we see eachother, you will have to tell me the stories of the old valyria, and the rise of the dragons. as a payment for the book" he said, showing you a cheerful smile. but you could see his watery eyes looking at you, you were grateful for this family you thought, and later those thoughts became questions. does your older brother loves your sister as much as robb loves you? you hoped he did.

the second one to visit your chambers was jon snow, you noticed that he looked troubled, his eyes seemed tired and even though he was looking at you, he seemed distant. "hi there, i heard you're leaving for king's landing." he muttered, his tone lacking affection caught you off guard.

"yes, lord stark allowed me to go with them. i think i really need this, y'know? my family lived in the red keep for ages!" jon felt your excitement in your high pitched voice, almost resembling the nine year old arya. he didn't know if you were excited for leaving the cold winterfell, or if you were excited to finally know more about your family. and he could relate, he wanted to know more about his family too, who is his mother, and is his mother alright?. "but i'm particularly excited to see the library" these last words made him realize that love is a dangerous thing, while he didn't want to part from you, he was delighted at the same time, thinking of your sudden happiness.

"i hope you find the answers you're looking for princess, i really do. see, i talked with my uncle benjen the other night, and i decided to join the night's watch. i came here to bid you goodbye, i guess your departure should've made things easier, but i don't want to leave without saying this first-" you could hear doubt in his voice and immediatly your anxiety began to grow.

"i don't want us to lose what we have, i still don't know what will happen in the future, but- but if i join the nights watch i will swear an oath, one i cannot desobey. and one i will regret if i don't-"

"if you don't what?" you said, growing more and more impatient every second he didn't finished his sentence.

"if i don't kiss you, princess" you stared at him, his moonlight eyes catching your lilac ones. you were not thinking straight. your bodies started to seek eachother like the air you need to breath. with each step taking you to a rushed decision, your heart knew it was a right one.

with your faces almost colliding, you muttered almost like a whisper, only for him to hear it "then kiss me, jon snow".

his lips brushed gently against yours, caressing each corner of your lips, tasting and memorizing every line, every taste, and every sound that you provided him. this was a scene straight out of his dreams.

and life was not fair to him, he could only confirm.

the second he got you, was the second he lost you.

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