#Zee writes

[wasteddmoondust]

little family || remus lupin

pairing: remus lupin x reader 1,258 words, single mom! reader, established relationship, FLUFFY FLUFF, kid fic, maybe i just crave domesticity a/n: back to back fics like who is she... (had this in the drafts for a WHILE) omfg guys this was soooo crazy indulgent I'm gong crazy no i did not proof read but i hope you like it anway

Remus is just about to leave work when he gets the call. He sees your contact name pop up on his screen, Y/N <3.

"Hello?" he says when he picks up the call.

"Hi, Re," you reply. You voice sounds rushed and anxious. "Do you happen to be free today?"

"I am, love. What is it?" he asks softly, stopping in his tracks to listen to you.

"Something came up at work today that I have to stay and handle, could you pick up Lyla from daycare?"

Lyla, a little girl equivalent to a ball of sunshine. Though you had only been dating for over a year, he sees her as his own.

"Of course I will. I'll bring her back to yours?"

"Yes please, thank you so much. I'll buy takeout for dinner when I'm done. You okay with that?"

"Yeah, sure. I'll go pick her up now."

He hears you heave a sigh of relief over the phone. "I appreciate you so much, I love you."

He smiles. "I love you, too. I'll see you later."

Remus reaches the daycare and realises he doesn't know what he's supposed to do. He walks by the window and sees Lyla colouring in her classroom. She notices the movement and looks up from her drawing. He can't hear her through the window but she's jumping around and cheering at the sight of him, waving excitedly.

He waves back at her, smiling, then notices one of her teachers gesturing to meet her at the entrance.

She gets past the gate to the classroom, leaving Lyla behind. "Hi, I know you're here for Lyla but since you're not her mum I'm going to need your ID," she says pulling out a file from one of the shelves.

He pulls out his wallet and gives it to her and watches her scan a list of what seems to be names of parents of the children.

She takes a few seconds and finally says, "Ah yes, Remus Lupin. You're on her list. I'll get her for you." He watches the teacher look into the classroom and call Lyla.

And then he realises. He's on the list. He's on the list of people who can pick Lyla up from daycare. You put him on the list of people who can pick Lyla up from daycare.

He's snapped out of his thoughts when he hears Lyla's voice. "Remoose!" she yells, running up to him.

"Hiya, angel," he says and picks her up. His heart melts as she immediately wraps her arms around his neck for a hug. "Mummy will join us later, but for now it's just you and me, okay?"

"We can watch TV?" she asks. "And then- then play toys?"

"Mhm, that sounds like a good plan," Remus replies, and they head to your home.

Later, you turn your key to your flat and open the door. You can hear the television playing a movie and the sound of your daughter's laughter. You kick off your shoes and walk into the living room.

Remus is covered in the fake makeup from Lyla's child-friendly kit. His hair is also adorned with little flower hair clips. He sits cross-legged on the floor while she sits in his lap.

"Looks like you had a lot of fun without me, hm?" you say. Lyla jumps at the sound of your voice, immediately running to you.

"Mummy! Remus fetched me today!"

"I know, darling," you kiss her cheek. "I asked him to. Did he take good care of you?"

She nods aggressively. She runs back to Remus, who is already walking up to you.

"Well don't you look pretty today," you tease. He smiles and breathes a soft laugh.

"My makeup artist is talented. She's very serious about this," he presses a kiss to your forehead. "You hungry? I can heat up dinner."

"That'd be great, and then it's time for this bug to go to bed," you pick up Lyla. "Isn't that right?"

She lays her head on your shoulder, visibly getting sleepy as it gets closer to her usual bedtime.

"Say good night to Remus?" you turn your body, so she faces him.

Remus bends down to kiss her hair, "Good night, angel."

Lyla slowly closes her eyes, "G'night..."

Putting your baby to bed goes smoothly, and she easily winds down as she is tucked into bed. She snuggles into her blanket and looks up at you.

"I like it when Remus fetches me from school," you hear her mumble.

You smile at that. "Really?"

She nods. "I really like Remus."

"I really like Remus too, darling."

"I think you get very happy around him, Mummy," she whispers. "You were not very happy last year, but now I see you be happy with him. So I'm happy."

You feel your heart do something. Jump? Lurch? Lyla was right, being a single parent comes with its challenges and you can admit a lot of late nights were spent biting your nails and wiping tears from your cheeks. You tried your best to prevent her from seeing you in that state, but you know she's observant enough for her age.

And that's why you're so thankful to have met Remus. He accepted you despite the fact you had a whole child. He saw you not only as you but also as the mother of your child. He understood that Lyla would always be a priority to you over romance (unlike most men you've met). Despite all its complications, he has been able to fit into your lives as if he's already meant to be there.

A prime example could be taken from today. Surely he could've said no to picking up Lyla from daycare, he's just her mother's boyfriend, after all. But he agreed and handled the rest.

"He does make me really happy," you say to her. "Does he make you happy too?"

"Mhm! He always plays with me and watches shows with me. He also hugs me and kisses me. He makes me happy. He's like my Daddy."

You chuckle, trying to hide the way your heart is going crazy at that. Somehow, you take the leap. "You want Remus to be your Daddy?"

"Can I call him my Daddy?" she asks, her eyes hopeful.

"You'll have to ask him tomorrow," you say, and you wonder what his reaction would be.

"Okay, I'll ask him tomorrow. Good night, Mummy."

You kiss her forehead, "Good night, darling."

You walk out of her room to see Remus placing your plate of food on the table for you. Without saying anything, you approach him and hug him. He hugs you back.

He is silent for a while, swaying your body slowly as you hug. "You were in there for a while, what were you talking about?" he mumbles into your hair.

You take a deep breath and look up at him, chin resting on your chest. "I love you," you say.

He furrows his brows but nods anyway. "I love you, too."

"Lyla wants to call you her dad."

Remus stops swaying. What is he thinking?

"Okay," he says, simply.

You jerk your head back, "Really?"

"Of course, I love her too, you know. I'd be honoured."

Chuckling, you bury your head into his chest and squeeze him. You feel him press a kiss into your hair.

"We're like a little family," he whispers to you. And you can see it too. You, your daughter, and Remus altogether as one.

And there's honestly nothing you want more than that.

a/n: SO LIKE UM this has been in the drafts about the same time as the james one like i said this is just very very indulgent brainrot i still have plans for the james series!!!!!!! ty sm for your support <3 likes and reblogs are always appreciated.

[aashiqeddiediaz]

of biting goodbyes

she's back with ill-advised tragic i-don't-want-you-to-go sex and angsty feels.

Pairing: Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz

Rating: E

Chapter: 1/1

Word Count: 5,524 words

Snippet:

“Buck.” Eddie reaches up to cup his face, tilting their heads back so he can look Buck in the eye, his gaze unguarded for the first time since Eddie told him he was moving to El Paso. He doesn’t like the despair that lives there, but he knows that it’s the same one that lives in his chest right now, the same serrated feeling that’s been tearing him apart since the day Christopher walked out the door. Somehow, this feels like acid on a wound that refuses to heal. He reads the desire in Buck’s eyes, the desperation that lives there. He sees the way Buck’s eyes track all over the walls in the same way Eddie’s had been doing only minutes ago. And he realizes that Buck feels the same way he does. That maybe they’re together in this, too — realizing when it’s far too late to do anything significant about it. But then—  Buck tilts his head, moving closer like he’s about to kiss Eddie, and Eddie tightens his grip on his face, his brow creasing. “Buck, we can’t,” Eddie says quietly, his thumb circling the bolt of his best friend’s jaw. Buck’s cheek jumps against his fingertips when he grits his teeth, but Eddie doesn’t let up with the soothing movements, fingers tracing and memorizing the planes of his face. “Give me this. Just once,” Buck pleads, his eyes falling shut for a brief second as he pulls Eddie in closer. “Please, Eddie, please .” He knows what Buck wants. He knows the absolute fucking irony of both of them being on the same page at this moment, less than 12 hours before Eddie gets on a plane to leave his life behind. He knows this is a bad idea. He knows that there will be nothing left of him once he gives in to Buck. Knows that this is a step they will never come back from. “You’ll hate me tomorrow, Buck,” Eddie whispers, leaning up to press his mouth to the birthmark that steals his attention 90% of the time.

[Read on AO3]

[meowriddler]

Touched Starved Edward

A/n: hey yall…. It’s been a min so here is this ig loll

Warning: kind NSFW /touch starved Eddie duh ( never wrote anything smutty and posted so that’s a warning on its own)

-Touch Starved Edward: who seems to gravitate towards you every time your setting on the same couch, almost clinging to you.

-Touched Starved Edward: who hugs you a bit tighter and longer then normal just wanting to feel your warmth for a while longer

-Touched Starved Edward: who can’t help but hold your hands every time you go out together even if his hands tend to get sweaty

-Touched Starved Edward: who craves your touch and will do anything to intent it whether brushing his hand against urs to even having his hand onto the small of your back

-Touch Starved Edward: who even Daydreams about cuddling with u every second of the day

-Touch Starved Edward: who’s a shamed how pathetic he feels every time you show him an ounce of your attention and will do anything to get you to praise him

-Touch Starved Edward: who gets tense every time you set close to him, you can’t help but offer to massage his poor shoulders

-Touch Starved Edward: who’s mind is racing with a million thoughts, wanted to explain himself on why he’s so tense around u but doesn’t

-Touch Starved Edward: who almost lets out an shameful moan the second your pretty hands touched him

-Touch Starved Edward: who was so close to cuming onto his own pants when your touch gently started going lower onto his so aching back ( something else was aching too)

-Touch Starved Edward: who doesn’t notice he’s been grinding his hips onto the couch and groaning into the cushions hoping it’ll hide how pathetic he is for you and your simple touch.

-Touch Starved Edward: who begs you not to stop,and cums the second you called him your pretty boy.

Touch Starved Edward: who’s a pathetic whimpering, and needy mess around you

A/n: as I always say don’t forget to drink water my shawtys 👹👍

[zee-rambles]

Raph: U-um…D-Dad…there’s this…someone I really like-

Splinter: Aw! That’s wonderful! Anyone would be lucky to have you, my son.

————

Mikey: Dad! Dad! I think I might be in love!

Splinter: That’s great. Make sure to take Raphael with you as a chaperone.

Mikey: Daaaaad!

————

Splinter: Please, just, FIND someone. I can’t believe your only love was a jacket!

Donnie: Not true. I have another love.

Splinter: Really?

Donnie: SCIENCE!

Splinter: *Facepalm*

————

Leo: Yo, Pops! You’ll never believe it! I met someone-

Splinter: I FORBID YOU FROM DATING UNTIL YOU’RE THIRTY!

Leo: WHAT!?

——————————————————————————————————

Save Rise

[seths-rogens]

cardboard houses, cardboard hearts | M | 1.9k | ao3

should’ve been finishing my infidelity au, but instead the cardboard joe cutout i was given inspired me to crank this out in one sitting,, anyway, please enjoy :)

—————

Eddie often thanks God that he took the leap and moved to Indianapolis after he finally graduated high school. Not that he really believes in God. Just… figure of speech and all. Though, maybe he’d believe in God if they were a metalhead with tatties and an eyebrow piercing, but he thinks that might ruin their image honestly.

He’s getting off topic.

Eddie often thanks God for Indy in moments like these. Moments where he has a fucking beautiful man pinned to his own front door, strong, thick fingers tangling in his hair as Eddie desperately tries to fit his key into the lock. He shoves his thigh between Pretty Man’s legs - he didn’t catch his name - and presses upwards. Pretty Man whines, grinding down and making it all that more difficult to unlock the goddamn door.

“Hold on, Sweetheart. I just gotta-“ Eddie bites back a groan as Pretty Man kisses down his neck, sucking a bruise over his pulse as the key finally slips into the lock. Chrissy’s never gonna let him live the marks down.

He’s surprised he picked anyone up tonight at all. He’d gone to a concert alone for once, as Chrissy was staying at her new girlfriend’s place, and Gareth and Jeff weren’t the biggest fans of his guilty pleasure artist ‘King S’.

And honestly? In any other world. Eddie wouldn’t be either.

King S isn’t his usual style. Where Eddie usually loves a hard drumline, thrashing guitars and lyrics you can only scream, King S is all soft melodies and crooning vocals set to slow drum beats.

He’d stumbled upon him completely by accident, honestly. It’d been a slow day at the record store Eddie manages. He’d been there for nearly five hours and so far he’d only served maybe three customers - and two of those customers were an old couple shopping for their granddaughter. So he’d picked the first magazine he could reach off the stand by the counter, and flipped it open to a random page.

It’d been an interview with King S, who’d just released his first album at the time. He was talking about his inspiration for making music - his best friend and little brother who, he’s quoted as saying, ‘always ragged on him when he played his pop shit in the car’ - and the meaning behind his stage name - reclaiming an old high school nickname he’d been given after his brief stint as a bit of a mean girl, though now he promises he’s using it for good.

He’d flipped the page to find a double page spread of King S curled up in a bathtub. His eyes were squeezed shut through the lacy masquerade mask that was supposedly his staple (no one knew his real identity after all). His hair was messy and flying all over the place. He was…

He was naked. Or at least that’s how it seemed.

His arms and legs were bare, the black and white photo only emphasising the toned curves of the muscles in his arms and back and the dark hair covering those lush thighs.

Call him obvious but Eddie had been intrigued. He knew they’d received a new shipment of records that morning that weren’t supposed to be hitting the shelves until the next day, so he figured what the hell!

Ten minutes later, elbow deep in a shoddily painted green wooden crate, Eddie emerged victorious with King S’s debut album ‘Robins and Tadpoles’ in his hands.

The album cover was two people’s hands clasped together, matching ice cream cone tattoos on both wrists. There was a little dedication on the back. To R & D.

He took it out to the turntable on the shop floor and dropped the needle. When the soft music started, he was hesitant, but as the album moved on he quickly realised he was hooked.

He’d gone into the shop bright and early the next day - on his day off no less - and bought the album. Only slightly laughing at the look on Mike’s - part time Lit student, part time cashier, full time grump - face.

That had been two years ago, and Eddie had been solidly on the King S train since.

Sure, Gareth and Jeff - and Grant too when he was in town - would tease him about abandoning his people, about betraying the freaks and the weirdos, but really they supported his love for the artist, even if they didn’t quite get it.

So when King S announced a stop in Indy on his second album tour, the guys (and Chrissy) had banded together to get him tickets as an early 26th birthday present. Except when the day came, they were all busy, so he went by himself.

He didn’t mind really, was just happy to be there to appreciate the music. (And the man himself, Eddie has eyes, come on now.)

Elated and feeling just a little self fulfilled after the concert, Eddie had gone to his favourite queer/metal bar, Crash. He’s picked people up there before, sure, but they’ve all been metalheads, just like him, and as many of his friends have said in the past, he’s cursed to have the hots for the preppy jock types.

Usually, that’s not the type of guy he’d find in Crash. Tonight was different.

Eddie had been sat at the bar, thinking about King S’s arms beneath the crimson sweater he wore on stage, when a gorgeous man had stepped up beside him to buy a beer. The man was wearing a dark, charcoal coloured t-shirt under a light grey Members Only jacket, paired with light blue levi’s.

Eddie kinda felt his jaw hit the floor. Could this be the perfect end to the perfect night?

This brings us back to now. Eddie finally pushes the door open, swings Pretty Man around and pushes him back against it.

He drops his keys somewhere. It doesn’t matter. He’ll find them tomorrow.

They’re grinding fast against one another now, only their harsh, panting breaths filling the silence of Eddie’s apartment. Eddie slides his hand into Pretty Man’s hair, tugs on this side of too hard. Pretty Man moans, loud, almost echoing, and tilts his head to the side, baring his neck for Eddie to defile.

Eddie leans in, presses his lips to those two little moles, and—

“What the fuck?”

Eddie pulls back to look at Pretty Man’s face. He’s still, not looking at Eddie, instead staring with wide eyes into the open plan of Eddie’s living room.

Eddie follows his gaze and… Oh. Yeah. He forgot about that.

See the King S tickets hadn’t been Eddie’s only birthday gift. He knew this would come back to bite him in the ass, but his friends thought it was hilarious. Eddie thinks they’re assholes.

Because Pretty Man is staring at a life size cutout of King S, standing by the wall.

Eddie winces, pulls away. This guy might not look like a metalhead, but he was in a metal bar, there’s no way he listens to King S. He’s gotta come up with an explanation for this, and fast.

“Um, yeah… About that… would you believe me if I said I didn’t buy it?” He asks sheepishly, avoiding Pretty Man’s eyes.

“You’re a fan?” Pretty Man asks, except he sounds dejected, which Eddie thinks is weird. And actually? Fuck this guy. He’s allowed to like whatever he wants.

“Yeah, man. What’s wrong with that? Maybe it’s not for everyone but King S actually makes really good music.” He gets more than a little defensive, takes a step back and crosses his arms over his chest.

“No, no… that’s not what I meant.” Pretty Man raises his hands placatingly.

“Then what did you mean?”

Pretty Man sighs, rubs a hand over his face. “Don’t you recognise me?”

Eddie furrows his brow in confusion. “Do I like, know you or something?”

Pretty Man raises his eyes to the ceiling like this is difficult. “Really? Nothing?”

Eddie shakes his head. “I don’t…” Pretty man nods, sighs, and then walks past Eddie further into the apartment. “Hey, you can’t just—“

“How about now?” Pretty Man asks, stopping right next to the cardboard cut out.

Eddie flits his eyes between the man and the cut out, trying to understand what Pretty Man is getting at until he sighs again, pulls down the sleeve of his jacket to reveal…

A tattoo of an ice cream cone, and suddenly it all clicks.

Oh. Oh no. That’s… oh holy ever loving fuck.

“Holy shit!” Eddie exclaims, pointing frantically between Pretty Man and the cardboard. “You’re King S!”

“Yeah. It’s uh, Steve, actually.” Pretty Man, King S, Steve nods, seeming much more shy than he was ten minutes ago. He’s curled his arms around himself, trying to make himself shrink. Eddie feels bad.

“Did you think I was trying to sleep with you because you’re famous?”

“I mean, weren’t you?” Steve won’t meet his eye. Instead he’s staring around the room, taking in all the little details of Eddie’s life.

Eddie takes a step towards him. “No, man. I just thought you were pretty, that’s all.”

“You really didn’t know who I was?” Though he still looks unsure, Steve finally meets his eye.

Eddie shakes his head, coming to a stop in front of Steve. “I didn’t even buy that thing, dude. My friends thought it would be funny because you’re like, the only non-metal artist I listen to.”

Steve smiles at that. He really is so pretty, Eddie can’t help but think. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, man. Heard your first album right after it came out and I was hooked!” Eddie laughs softly. “I used to be a little bit narrow minded when it came to music, but I heard yours and it’s like the world of music blasted wide open.”

A pretty pink blush spreads its way across Steve’s cheeks. “Oh, uh… That’s really cool. I’m glad you like it.”

“I was at your show tonight, actually.”

“You were?”

“Yeah!” He shrugs. “I used to play in a band in high school, we were never very good but I liked to think I had good stage presence, right?” Steve nods and Eddie grins, leaning in a little. “I was nothing compared to you. It was fucking electric, I felt like my skin was buzzing.”

Steve’s smile seems to grow even wider. He sways forward into Eddie’s space, almost unconsciously. “This might be crazy, but do you wanna start over? Forgo the one night stand and just, I don’t know, get coffee or something? I know this cute little 24 hour place, Victoria Street, it’s only a couple blocks away.”

Eddie narrows his eyes a little. “Stevie… barely anyone knows Victoria Street. Are you, dare I say it… local?”

Steve’s cheeks darken even further. “Maybe.”

Eddie laughs. “Then, I’d love to start over. I wanna get to know you as Steve, not King S.”

Steve slips his hand into Eddie’s, tugs him

back towards the door. “God, how much do you know..?”

“I may have read a couple interviews.”

Steve groans, embarrassed, as the door clicks shut behind them.

Then, a few moments later. “Shit! My keys!”

The date goes well. As does the second, and the third, and so on, and so on. They’re officially exclusive by date 7.

Steve meets Chrissy and the boys on date 20. Eddie meets Dustin and Robin, right before date 45.

On date 94, Steve presents his third album to Eddie. There’s a different dedication on the back cover this time.

To E, my love.

——————

taglist: @judasofsuburbia @gothbat99 @cheatghost @flowercrowngods @fastcardotmp3 @simplebtromance @gonzofromspace

lemme know if u wanna be added to a permanent taglist for anything i do in the future, i’m thinkin’ that might be funky :)

[zeemczed]

A: Against all odds, I believe I am getting used to the human predilection for eating ANYTHING. H: I feel like this is the windup for something. A: But this… I don't get. H: Okay, it can't be weirder than peppers or mint. What is it? A: This… human… Scottish beverage. Irn Bru. H: …hhhhhhyeah I've got NO explanation for that one, that's just… Scottish people love it, never caught on anywhere else. A: This… coincides with presently existing data. H: Huh? A: Regarding Scots as an anomaly even among the usual chaos of you humans. H: I'm almost afraid to ask what the other data is. A: The entire concept of the Highland Games, the invention of Golf, pasta in pies… H: Okay, that's fair- A: …deep fried Mars bars, totemic use of Sudocrem as a healing salve, illegal contraband being sold out of ice cream vans… H: Uh. A: …literally burnt rolls being considered a delicacy and putting up with the English. H: … A: … H: Yeah. That, uh. That tracks.

-

(Edit: English/British confusion fixed.)

[alwaysaslutforarthurmorgan]

Losing Everything

Hey y'all

It's been a hot minute, hasn't it? I won't bore you with where I've been, all that matters is I'm back now!

*This is a re-post of a fic I posted before and deleted for reasons that don't matter anymore*

I'm bringing it back because I missed it and because I really want to write this fix-it.

Part two is in the works already!

___

Sneak Peek:

Steps pass by the door, thin wood the only barrier keeping them from finding you. Every time they pass the door you freeze, breathe as quiet as you can. Praying to anyone who may be listening that they don’t open it. That they don’t come in, that they don’t find you. It works, they don’t come in, instead passing in front of the door. One set of footsteps shuffling, the other more surefooted. Crossing in front of the door, but never opening it. 

It works. 

Until it doesn’t. 

___

Read it on Ao3 here.

[vimylove]

She has the urge to beg. 

Ribs throbbing under where her hand rests on them. Knees digging into the hard ground beneath her. Looking up into the eyes of the first person to show her kindness in what felt like a lifetime. The first person in ages to show her that hands can do more than harm. 

She has the urge to beg.

To plead, to explain. Please don't do this. Please don't go. Please don't leave me like everyone else has. I just didn't want a little kid to get hurt. I just didn't want another kid to lose someone to an enforcer like I did. I was just trying to stop you from changing.

I was only trying to help. 

She has the urge to beg. 

She doesn't. 

Because as she looks up at the first person to show her kindness in what felt like a lifetime, she doesn’t see that person anymore. The person who traded her rifle for a potion. The person who laid on that bed with her, held her hand while she remembered all the ways she failed her little sister. She doesn't see Caitlyn, Cupcake. Sees no kindness, only hands that have harmed her. 

She sees an enforcer. 

And if there's one thing her time in Stillwater taught her it's that begging doesn't affect enforcers. They don't care for pleading and they hate explanations. She'd tried, once upon a time, the first time one had paid her a visit in her cell. Only a week after she got dumped there to be forgotten. Remembers being young and angry but also scared. Remembers begging in between punches to her face for them to stop, please stop. 

They hadn't. 

So she doesn't beg. Doesn't plead. Doesn't try to explain. Just watches as Caitlyn, no, the enforcer, in front of her climbs the ladder and disappears. Watches until she's gone and then does the only thing she can do, the only thing she could do those first couple years at Stillwater, before she bulked up and started hitting back. 

She cries.

[biboomerangboi]

Writing Hua Cheng’s POV is so hard how do you all manage to condense all that’s wrong with him and write it coherently.

[wndasstar]

would you guys like me to finish the stepmom!Wanda fic or should I scrap it?

[crystalromana]

Everyday I'm rewriting stranded.

[wasteddmoondust]

james has a crush on you. and he thinks he's sooo slick about it.

he forgot his pencil case today.

(he didn't, really. it's buried deep in his book bag and hope no one actually rummages inside to look for it.)

he takes a deep breath and put on his play-it-cool face before tapping your shoulder.

"hey can i borrow a pen? i forgot to bring mine," he asks.

"oh. yeah, sure," you take a pen from your pencil case and pass it to him. "you can give it back tomorrow."

he smiles at that. "thanks," he breathes out. you turn back around before the lesson starts.

remus is staring at him. "i literally sit next to you."

"yeah, but did i ask you? shut it before i shove your pens up your arse."

he plans to cherish your pen as much as he can.

a/n: i am him he is me. i did this when i was 14 with the boy with the uniball signo 0.38 pen.

[aashiqeddiediaz]

he is half of my soul (as the poets say)

Pairing: Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz

Rating: T

Chapter: 1/1

Word Count: 4,020 words

Snippet:

His eyes drift over the stubbled jaw, the full bottom lip, the mole under his left eye, the scar right above his right eyebrow and back down until locking with Eddie’s. He’s never quite been able to describe the way Eddie’s gaze settles on him most of the time. He knows it pierces through him, reading every last inch of him like a well-loved book, voraciously soaking up everything there is to learn about Buck. He knows it’s telling, and always fond. He knows it keeps Buck steady, helps him stay anchored.  He knows that Eddie’s eyes with Buck have never been truly guarded. Even though it’s always been difficult for him to be vulnerable, Eddie gifts that vulnerability to Buck in a thousand different ways. It’s not effortless, because nothing difficult is ever effortless, but he does it in a way that makes Buck feel worthy. He does it in a way that doesn’t expect anything out of Buck, even for the privilege that it is. And that’s how Eddie’s looking at him now, every last detail more pronounced by the diminishing space between them. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Buck asks, almost soundlessly. Hope cloys the words into something sticky sweet, strands of sugar stretching from Buck’s lips to Eddie’s gaze. “How am I looking at you?”  “Like…,” he whispers, anxiety looping around his lungs once before he decides to take the plunge. “Like you’re in love with me.”

[Read on AO3]

[meowriddler]

Yall guess what

[zee-rambles]

Donnie: All right, brothers, let’s go. Chop chop.

Raph: Wha? How did you get them out of the lair so fast? I have to drag you guys out on missions.

Leo: I have my ways, big bro.

Mikey: He said if we can get out in five minutes, then he won’t make any puns for a week.

————————-

Fanart

[seths-rogens]

82 and steddie for the ANGST

i wrote this ENTIRELY ON THE CLOCK i feel both powerful and insane anyway here u go bestie, some lovely steddie angst <33

word count: 1.1k

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82. “This is a one time thing.”

He should’ve known.

Should’ve known when Eddie’s eyes fell hooded. Should’ve known when his back was pressed hard against the wall of his hallway. When Eddie’s tongue was down his throat. Should’ve known when Eddie pressed in slow and his head fell back against the pillow.

It should’ve been obvious. He should’ve known.

But now, lying bare, covered only by the thin top sheet, Steve frowns as he watches Eddie sit up and start searching for his clothes.

“What’re you doing?” He fiddles with the covers, pinching and twisting them between his fingers.

Eddie barely spares a glance over his shoulder.

“What does it look like?” He reaches down, shuffles as he pulls on his boxers. The low light casts shadows over the curve of his back, illuminates the Gauth tattoo he got a week last Friday. “This was a one time thing, Harrington. Did you expect me to stay and cuddle?”

Steve’s stomach drops like he’s falling from a height. He feels sick, anxiety rolling through his stomach.

Is this all he’s good for? A quick fuck and nothing more?

Does he not deserve more than just this?

Spiralling is never a nice feeling.

He laughs, cold and harsh, plastering on that old ‘King Steve’ persona and crossing his arms tight over his chest. Nothing can break through that tough exterior. “Course not. Why would I expect anything from you?”

Eddie has his shirt on now. He’s stood, searching the floor for where he tossed his jeans. He meets Steve’s eye at his stern tone.

“Woah, whats your deal man?”

“My deal? There’s no deal.” Steve shakes his head, a glare settled on his face.

“I mean, clearly there is. You were fine like five minutes ago and now, what? You’re acting all bitchy for some reason?”

“Fucking rich coming from you, Munson.”

Eddie’s eyes widen in shock. “The fuck?” He mutters under his breath. “What’s gotten into you? You haven’t called me Munson in months!”

Steve glowers, tosses the covers back and strides, naked as the day he was born, into the bathroom. “You can see yourself out.”

A clean break will be easier. He can lose it in private once Eddie’s gone.

He goes to shut the door but a palm slams down, holding it open. Steve flinches, eyes flicking up to meet Eddie’s.

“Wait a goddamn minute, man. What did I do?” Eddie looks desperate now, where before he seemed apathetic. Steve can’t help but be confused at the shift.

“Why do you care? I thought this was a one time thing?”

“It is! That’s what you wanted!”

Steve let’s out a short breath, ducks his head and punches the bridge of his nose. He can’t help the tears stinging at the corners of his eyes. “You didn’t even ask me.” He chokes out.

“What?”

“You didn’t ask me what I want.”

A crease appears between Eddie’s eyebrows, confusion swimming in his eyes. “You’re not a queer, Steve. You just wanted to get off, right? It’s okay. I’m not mad that that’s all you want.”

Steve laughs, letting go of the door and running a hand down his face. A couple tears spill over. “And you were just there, right?”

“Exactly. We’re friends. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

Steve’s voice breaks. “You think I would use you like that? That’s how little you think of me?”

“What? Stevie, sunshine, no. I think the world of you.”

“Then why is it a one time thing! Why can’t I be more? Am I not good enough? Don’t I deserve it?”

“Sweetheart—“

“No.” He puts his foot down. “You don’t get to call me that if you’re just gonna fuck me and toss me to the side.”

Eddie flinches as if struck. “I—“

“I’m so tired, Eddie. I’m so tired of being this person everyone thinks is only good for sex. I don’t even care about sex that much!” Steve runs a hand through his hair, before grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his hips. He’s too exposed. “Like yeah, sure, it’s fun. But I want more than that! I like the hand holding and the dates and the inside jokes. I don’t want just sex. I want to be loved.”

Eddie’s expression softens, his eyes a little wet. “You are so loved, Steve Harrington. Robin and Dustin and the rest of the kids love you so much. Hell, they would die for you.”

Steve shakes his head, staring at the floor. Eddie’s holy socks next to his bare feet. “That’s not what I mean. That’s different.”

“You want to be in love.”

Steve nods. “Yeah.”

“Well, I—“ Eddie starts. Steve looks up at him, a glimmer of hope lighting in his chest. “No. Never mind, I don’t even know what I was going to say.”

He takes a step back, steps into his jeans and pulls them up. He’s fiddling with the belt buckle when he says, “I should get going. I’m sorry I upset you.”

He makes for the door but doesn’t get far before Steve stops him. “Eds?”

Eddie stops but doesn’t turn around. “Yeah?”

“What were you going to say?”

Eddie shakes his head, croaks out an answer. “Nothing, Stevie. Promise.”

“No.” Steve squeezes his eyes shut as he whispers the plea. “Please say it.”

Eddie turns around.

His eyes are closed. His fists clenched so tightly his skin is pulled white. “You could never want me. So why ask for more when I could have you for one night?”

Steve makes a pained noise but says nothing, sensing Eddie isn’t finish. Eddie let’s out a shaky sigh.

“I thought I was protecting myself. Limiting it to one night, one time. I thought we could just move on. Just be friends who had sex that one time.” He laughs, soft and self deprecating. “But it’s never that easy with you, Stevie. I knew as soon as we finished that if I let myself stay, if I held you for even a moment, that I’d never recover.”

Steve steps towards him, hapless to resist.

“So I acted like it meant nothing. And I’m sorry I did, truly. If I knew you felt like that, I wouldn’t have.”

“How do I feel, Eddie?”

Eddie’s face scrunches up, pained or maybe nervous. “You… you love me? Right?”

Steve nods. Takes another step forward. “And?”

“And I love you.”

For the first time all night, Steve smiles. The full, gleaming one he doesn’t let slip often. It lightens his eyes, bares his teeth.

He steps closer still until they’re almost chest to chest.

Steve wraps his fingers around the handcuffs that make up Eddie’s belt buckle. He tugs and Eddie stumbles forward until they’re flush.

With his other hand, Steve loosens his towel. Lets it fall.

He cups Eddie’s jaw in his hands, leans in until there’s only a whisper of space between their lips.

“Well then, maybe this doesn’t have to be a one time thing.”

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