#and I mean yeah I’ve suspected it’s possible

[littleslaywrites]

joy to the world | spencer reid x bau!reader

summary: you surprise spencer with big news on christmas morning

word count: 1.1k

cw: fluff, pregnancy, mentions of birth control, JJ heavily featured (no jeid mentions)

The presents had all been opened, and you were sitting on the couch with Spencer in front of the fireplace. Crackles from the fire mixed with the sound of the radio playing Christmas music. You were dipping cookies you’d made the night before in a shared glass of milk. His arm is wrapped around your waist and your head is on his shoulder. 

You'd been anxious all day, waiting for the right time to give him his last gift. You knew he’d be excited, but you also knew it’d change your whole lives. 

It had been just over a week since you’d found out you were pregnant. JJ was the first to know, being the one who suggested it as a possibility. You’d been nauseous for a week, hardly having the appetite for anything. Any strong smell made it worse. JJ has suspected something was up, but what made her voice it to you was when you mentioned your period was late. It was a passing comment, but she pulled you aside, mid-case, insisting that you take a test. 

“Could you be pregnant?” she asked, whispering as to not alert the others in the local police office you were set up in. 

“I mean, I guess,” you said, trying to remember if you had missed a pill recently. You realized that, with your frequent time zone changes, you had probably mixed up times at some point. “Oh god, yeah, I could be.”

“What are you thinking?” JJ asked, sensing your nervousness. 

You had talked about having kids with Spencer, so you were sure he’d be excited, but you didn’t expect it to happen so soon. 

“I’m thinking a lot of things,” you respond. She grabs one of your hands, subtle enough to not draw attention. 

“We can find a drugstore tonight and get a test for you,” she says as the two of you are called back into the conference room. 

That night, you two gathered in your hotel room. The test sits face down on the bathroom counter, phone timer counting down. When the alarm goes off, you don’t move from where you’re sitting side-by-side on the floor. 

“Turn it over,” you tell JJ.

“Me?” she says. The two of you go back and forth on who has to turn it over, giggling like school girls. Your play argument ends with the decision that you’ll flip it together. 

“What do you want it to say?” she asks when both of you are standing in front of the test. 

“I think…” you hesitate for a second, considering the two possibilities. “I think I want it to be positive.”

You imagine your life with Spencer as a family, creating a new human that’s half him, half you. 

The two of you count down from 3, flipping it over, revealing the tiny words. 

Pregnant

“Oh my god,” you say, glancing over at JJ.

“Oh my god!” she says, grabbing you by the arms. “You’re going to be a mom!” She’s jumping up and down, almost more excited than you are. You’re standing there in shock as she pulls you into a bear hug.

Pulling back, she asks “How are you going to tell Spencer?”

That’s how you two came up with the idea to tell him on Christmas. JJ knew just as well as you did that Spencer would be overjoyed. You could hardly keep the secret from him, wanting to tell everyone you knew. Penelope knew something was up, catching onto the looks JJ gave you. It was torture not being able to tell her, wanting Spencer to find out before the rest of your team. It was almost impossible to have any secrets in an office full of profilers. 

“I’ve got something else for you,” you say as Spencer is cuddling you with the cookie tin on top of his legs. 

“What is it?” he says. 

You stand up, getting the small gift bag you had hidden inside your closet. “So, you know how you like to journal?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I got you one that you’ll be needing soon.”

You hand him the gift, sitting back down as your heart pounds inside your chest. 

He opens it, revealing a small book that says “First Time Dad’s Journal” on the front. 

You try to read Spencer’s eyes, shuffling through a range of emotions. “Are you…” he trails off, meeting your eyes. 

“Yeah,” you say smiling. He grabs your hands in disbelief. 

“Are you serious?” he says, borderline giddy.

“Completely serious.”

He pulls you close, holding you tight. When he pulls away, you see light tears brimming in his eyes. “This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten.” He lightly kisses you, smiles breaking across both your faces. 

“Who knows?” he asks, keeping your hands locked inside his. 

“Just JJ. She was there when I found out, but I wanted you to know before everyone else.”

Spencer can’t stop smiling. His eyes are studying you, seeing you in a whole new way. “When will we tell them?”

“I guess we have to tell Hotch pretty soon. Once we tell Penelope, I’m sure everyone else will find out.” You both giggle, imagining how she’ll react. 

The moment settles, both of you slipping into the quiet of the evening. You find a place again at his side, him holding you even closer than before. 

“I want to be a good dad for you,” he says quietly, “for you both.”

“I know you will.” There’s no doubt in your mind. You’ve seen him with kids before. “You being worried shows that you care.”

He hums, hand finding your stomach. “I just don’t want to be like my father,” he says, almost whispering. 

“You won’t. You’re already nothing like him.” One of your hands goes to his hair, playing with it. You wish there was a way to make him know how perfect he’ll be as a father. He’ll know when the baby gets here, you think. 

Silence overtakes you, the both of you imagining your new future. You’d always planned on having children, but it felt more real than ever before. You can almost picture another set of legs running around the apartment. 

Your phone rings, breaking through the quiet. You answer it, Hotch on the other end apologizing for interrupting your holiday to inform you that you have a case. 

Getting ready to go, Spencer stops you in front of the bathroom mirror by hugging you from behind. 

“Please don’t get all overprotective,” you say.

“You know I can’t promise that.”

Spencer pulls you into one last kiss before you head to the office.

author's note: merry christmas to all of you that celebrate!

[ayyeeequality]

So if I happened to be experiencing autistic burnout and cptsd, could they perchance…. cancel each other out?

[foldingfittedsheets]

At this point in our relationship my betrothed is well versed in my compulsive need to help animals. It wasn’t part of their upbringing but it was a huge part of mine. So now whether it’s lost dogs or injured birds they know that for me it’s not a matter of convenience, it’s just the only possible option.

My most notable rescue took place during one of the least opportune times. We were watching a friends boxer puppy, Bella. The dog was dumber than a box of rocks and I took deep offense that at six months old she still didn’t know her own name. My betrothed and I were working with her on that as well as leash manners, so we walked her frequently.

On our way home from a walk I looked across the street and saw a cat. My betrothed didn’t need to ask, it was simply a given that faced with a cat I’d go say hello, so they waited with Bella as I crossed the road.

As I approached the cat several things caught my attention. The first was that he wasn’t wearing a collar. The second was that his coat was greasy and disheveled- this was not a cat that was thriving if he didn’t have energy to groom. The third thing was that he was way too skinny, with bones jutting out from his shabby coat.

The fourth thing I noticed was that this cat was a purebred Bengal.

Now, I understand that it’s suspect to identify cats as bengals. Many people see tabbies and call them bengals. But as a teenager I became obsessed with these cats and went on a hyper obsessive deep dive. I spent hours reading about them, looking at pictures, and dreaming about Bengal cats.

The cat in front of me had unmistakable rosettes, the narrow frame, piercing eyes, and from a very rough estimation probably cost thousands of dollars. There was no world in which he should be wandering my neighborhood with no collar and his ribs jutting out.

Which all led me to one conclusion. He was lost.

The second I realized that it was over. It wasn’t a matter of thinking the situation through it was a simple conclusion: he was lost so I would help him by any means necessary.

This sweet cat showed he was friendly and trotted right over to greet me. I pet him and tentatively went for a lift. He did not care for that. Suddenly we were tussling, and it was instantly clear to me that he was going to stay lost if I couldn’t restrain him, so we pitted all our wiles against each other and at one point I had him agonizingly by just a toe but I refused to let go and finally I had him in my arms, one hand scruffing him and the other supporting his weight.

That’s when I noticed a couple things. There was blood dripping down my elbow. Across the street Bella was going crazy barking and pulling toward me and the cat. And my betrothed was giving me an agonized look.

Without a word they started power walking Bella back to our house. I followed at a slower pace, keeping my grip on this poor lost cat.

It was a warm summer afternoon and several neighbors were out chatting. They saw the circus parade of my betrothed dragging a yelping puppy and me following holding a screaming cat.

Oh yeah. So I forgot to mention. Bengals are not normal cats. They’re bred back with a wild cat and their vocalizations are on a completely different level. The cat in my arms wasn’t meowing or yowling. Instead he was making one long continuous eldritch wailing, oscillating in rage and distress.

My neighbors saw this, me, stonefaced carrying a cat who was casting evil spells with his voice, blood dripping down my arm, while a puppy frantically fought my betrothed to reach us, and they laughed.

I don’t think I’ve ever been more offended that no one offered any assistance, but it was fine. I knew I could count on my betrothed. I slowed my steps slightly again when I saw my betrothed round our corner. I knew they would kennel the puppy and bring a cat crate for me.

Sure enough, I rounded the corner and they had our door open, crate at the ready. I popped the Bengal into the carrier and we shut him into the bathroom.

Then I looked at my shaking, bloody hand. He’s scraped his back claws up me and it wasn’t deep but I was bleeding heavily. Then I looked at my betrothed and started to cry.

They held me while I had a panic attack and helped me thoroughly peroxide my cuts.

“That was so brave, weren’t you scared to grab him?” they asked me.

Truly, no. I think to be brave or scared you need to actually conceptualize what you’re doing and I hadn’t. I saw a cat that needed help, and then there wasn’t options, I just acted.

They asked what my plan was and I didn’t have one. Where would we put him, in a home with three other cats and a puppy? I don’t know. I just grabbed him.

We ended up calling a friend who’s special interest is dog rescue. She brought her chip reader and a huge dog crate we could keep him in overnight with a disposable little box, food, and water.

He’d been summoning demons behind the bathroom door the whole time, making sounds previously confined to various netherworlds but she bravely uncaged him to read if he had a chip. No, to my surprise. It also turned out he was a love machine despite the ghastly sounds.

We loved on him and gave him small portions of food every fifteen minutes so he didn’t eat himself sick.

The next day we brought him to the local pet rescue, after I called ahead to warn them I was bringing in a Bengal. The lady had a very blasé attitude about this claim, clearly used to people claiming every lost tabby was a rare cat breed.

When she pulled him out of the crate she exclaimed, “Oh my god, it is a Bengal!”

“That’s what I promised. One whole ass Bengal.”

We said our goodbyes to the sweet man, and the posted him on the website as a found pet. He was picked up by his family two days later. I’ll never know how he escaped but I’m certain his family was so grateful to have him returned.

[lackadaisycats]

Hey Tracy! Have you heard about the new Ai called Sora? Apparently it can now create 2D and 3D animations as well as hyper realistic videos. I’ve been getting into animation and trying to improve my art for years since I was 7, but now seeing that anyone can create animation/works in just a mare seconds by typing in a couple words, it’s such a huge slap in the face to people who actually put the time and effort into their works and it’s so discouraging! And it has me worried about what’s going to happen next for artists and many others, as-well. There’s already generated voices, generated works stolen from actual artists, generated music, and now this! It’s just so scary that it’s coming this far. 

Yeah, I've seen it. And yeah, it feels like the universe has taken on a 'fuck you in particular' attitude toward artists the past few years. A lot of damage has already been done, and there are plenty of reasons for concern, but bear in mind that we don't know how this will play out yet. Be astute, be justifiably angry, but don't let despair take over. --------

One would expect that the promo clips that have been dropping lately represent some of the best of the best-looking stuff they've been able to produce. And it's only good-looking on an extremely superficial level. It's still riddled with problems if you spend even a moment observing. And I rather suspect, prior to a whole lot of frustrated iteration, most prompts are still going to get you camera-sickness inducing, wibbly-wobbly nonsense with a side of body horror.

Will the tech ultimately get 'smarter' than that and address the array of typical AI giveaways? Maybe. Probably, even. Does that mean it'll be viable in quite the way it's being marketed, more or less as a human-replacer? Well…

A lot of this is hype, and hype is meant to drive up the perceived value of the tech. Executives will rush to be early adopters without a lot of due diligence or forethought because grabbing it first like a dazzled chimp and holding up like a prize ape-rock makes them look like bleeding-edge tech geniuses in their particular ecosystem. They do this because, in turn, that perceived value may make their company profile and valuations go up too, which makes shareholders short-term happy (the only kind of happy they know). The problem is how much actual functional value will it have? And how long does it last? Much of it is the same routine we were seeing with blockchain a few years ago: number go up. Number go up always! Unrealistic, unsustainable forever-growth must be guaranteed in this economic clime. If you can lay off all of your people and replace them with AI, number goes up big and never stops, right?

I have some doubts. ----------------------

The chips also haven't landed yet with regards to the legality of all of this. Will these adopters ultimately be able to copyright any of this output trained on datasets comprised of stolen work? Can computer-made art even be copyrighted at all? How much of a human touch will be required to make something copyright-able? I don't know yet. Neither do the hype team or the early adopters.

Does that mean the tech will be used but will have to be retrained on the adopter's proprietary data? Yeah, maybe. That'd be a somewhat better outcome, at least. It still means human artists make specific things for the machine to learn from. (Watch out for businesses that use 'ethical' as a buzzword to gloss over how many people they've let go from their jobs, though.)

Will it become industry standard practice to do things this way? Maybe. Will it still require an artist's sensbilities and oversignt to plan and curate and fix the results so that it doesn't come across like pure AI trash? Yeah, I think that's pretty likely.

If it becomes standard practice, will it become samey, and self-referential and ultimately an emblem of doing things the cookie-cutter way instead of enlisting real, human artists? Quite possibly.

If it becomes standard industry practice, will there still be an audience or a demand or a desire for art made by human artists? Yes, almost certainly. With every leap of technology, that has remained the case. ------------------ TL;DR Version:

I'm not saying with any certainty that this AI blitz is a passing fad. I think we're likely to experience a torrential amount of generative art, video, voice, music, programming, and text in the coming years, in fact, and it will probably irrevocably change the layout of the career terrain. But I wouldn't be surprised if it was being overhyped as a business strategy right now. And I don't think the immensity of its volume will ever overcome its inherent emptiness.

What I am certain of is that it will not eliminate the innate human impulse to create. Nor the desire to experience art made by a fellow soul. Keep doing your thing, Anon. It's precious. It's authentic. It will be all the more special because it will have come from you, a human.

[scarletemeraldpurple]

Kinktober day 9: Lactation (posting this at 1 am on the 10th but ssshh)

Rio finds you on the brink of death, but it isn’t your time yet. She takes it upon herself to nurse you back to health.

CW: Reader suffers from homophobic violence, the consent is a bit dubious

Other notes: Very gentle Rio, lots of pet names, lactation with healing properties (and aphrodisiac properties), reader becomes Rio’s pet

“Well well, what have I found this time?” Rio mused to herself as she saw you on the ground, curled up, almost unconscious.

Death. You thought to yourself. Death has come to take me. It’s just as well.

“Let’s find out what your story is, hm?” Rio said, lightly massaging your temple.

What she found horrified her. You were dragged out here by a group of men. They beat you half to death, in theory it was because you were suspected of being a witch, in reality it was because one of them suspected you of trying to seduce his girlfriend.

“They don’t even truly know of the power you hold,” Rio said quietly, “it’s not your time to go yet, little one.”

That was the last thing you heard before blackness took over your vision.

You woke up in a cave, on a mat of woven vines.

“Sorry, I don’t have guests often and I don’t really sleep, this was the best I could do on short notice.” The strange witch who saved you said.

You tried to get up, you were unsuccessful, wincing at pain coming from your abdomen.

“Easy there sweetheart.” She sat beside you on the mat as you laid back down.

“I thought you were Death, coming to collect me.”

“Well in a sense I did, just not in the way you expected. But you can call me Rio.”

“Rio?”

“Rio Vidal, at first it was just a pseudonym, but I’ve gotten a bit attached to it.”

“River of Life, so Death has a sense of humor.”

“Gotta have one in my line of work.”

You chuckled lightly, which caused you to wince again.

Rio reached a hand out, very cautiously, to brush some hair out of your face. “I can help you with that, sweet thing.”

“Yeah? Why do you want to help me?”

“Someone’s a bit mistrustful.”

“Can you blame me?”

“No I cannot. Look, here’s the deal. I have something I need help with, and you can help me with it.”

“What exactly does Death need help with?”

“You forget that at the end of the day, I am a green witch. And there’s a little side effect of that I need help with.”

You looked at her confused.

“What exactly do you know about witches?”

“Not a lot. Managed to find an old banned book about potions but that’s been about it.”

Rio nodded slowly. “Okay well…how should I break this down? I can help heal you, quickly in fact.”

“Okay. And in return I?”

“You help me get my breasts to stop aching.”

Your eyes widened.

“You drink from me, it heals you, I get rid of my milk from this cycle.”

You could not believe what you were hearing. She had to be joking right? Maybe Death’s sense of humor was more twisted than you thought.

Then Rio flung her top off, and you saw her nipples leak a bit. “Think you can get on your side or do I need to straddle you?”

“Does it have to be like, mouth to tit? Can I not use a cup or something?”

“You could if I had any.”

“Right, right, guess you don’t really need to do the ‘sustenance for survival thing’.”

“Look, sweetheart , you can spend possibly months healing, unable to sit up for weeks. Orrrrrr, you can put your mouth on my tits and both of our lives will be so much easier.”

You really did not mean to be staring at her chest, but they were big…full, and right in front of you.

“You’re not exactly being subtle, doll.” Rio said, bringing a hand to cup one of them. “C’mon, it won’t take that long, you don’t even need to drink all of it to heal. And I’ll still get some relief.”

Fuck it. You thought to yourself. “Okay. Y’know making a deal with Death was not really on my agenda for today.”

Rio smiled. She slid next to you and gently coaxed you to your side. You cautiously wrapped your lips around her nipple. She stroked your hair encouragingly.

“There you go, just like that.” She let out a moan. “Oh you’re good at that baby.”

It really did work quick. You were already starting to feel better. You felt calmer too. You weren’t sure how to describe what it tasted like, but it was good, and you wanted to keep going.

“Mmm, feeling better baby?” Rio asked.

You were but you found yourself in a haze. It just felt so good to keep sucking. To keep drinking Her in.

“Mmm, I bet you are. You should be all healed up actually. But you can keep drinking that works for me. You’re awful cute like this.” She scratched at the back of your scalp and you moaned around her.

“Maybe I should keep you. Yeah, I think I’ll do that. You’d like taking care of me like this every month, wouldn’t you pet?” Rio mused as she petted you.

“Other side now if you wouldn’t mind. Not that you’d mind very much right now.” She chuckled.

You readjusted so that you were on top of her, now drinking as much as you could from her other tit.

“It’s been so long since I’ve had such an eager little mouth on me. You feel so good pet.” She reached an hand between her legs. “You’re being so good for me baby, just keep sucking.” She said as she started to rub her clit to the sight of you.

She had stopped leaking into your mouth so you detached and realized how worked up you had gotten…how worked up she had gotten.

“Kiss me, pet.”

You didn’t hesitate to obey. Her free hand wrapped around the back of your neck as she let you explore her mouth with your tongue. You moaned into her.

“Easily excited little thing aren’t you?” Rio whispered against your lips. “Fuck baby I’m so close, fuck, yeah keep looking at me like that.” She said as she grabbed your jaw, wanting those big doe eyes on her for as long as possible.

You felt her shake underneath you as she came. Eye contact broken as she screwed her eyes shut in pleasure. You stroked her hair, totally in awe.

Rio composed herself and brought her fingers to your lips.

In that moment you realized you never wanted to be done tasting her, every part of her.

“Such a good little pet. Already so well trained.” She teased. She adjusted you so that your legs were on either side of her thigh. “This is the last thing I want from you tonight okay? Can you cum for me, sweetheart?”

You nodded and started grinding against her. Every sensation seemed so intense tonight.

“I did forget to warn you about something my dear. See I can just heal people, but if someone is healthy, then drinking from me can act…as a bit of an aphrodisiac. Feeling a little fuzzy?”

You nodded and continued rocking your hips against her.

“I could have stopped you I suppose. But you were just so cute. And I bet if felt really good didn’t it?”

You nodded again, whimpering.

“And I bet this feels amazing right?”

“Uh-huh” you moaned out.

“Oh did I make you lose your words? That’s okay. Pet’s don’t need words, they just need to hump or suck, or whatever else I tell them to do. And right now? I want you to cum.”

Your body complied with her demand. She took your hips and made sure you rode all the way through it. You collapsed on top of her.

“Big night huh sweet thing?”

“Mhm.”

“Get some sleep my dear. I’ll be right here.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Quiet Ones 9

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader

Note: in the land of delulu.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

Steam rises around you as you lower yourself into the water. It might be relaxing but your flesh doesn’t meet porcelain. Instead, you lay across the man who sighs beneath your weight. Just as soon as you recline, Lloyd’s arms are around you. 

You flinch as he grabs his other arm and squeezes you close. You tense as he remains completely lax between you. He’s relaxed and confident. He knows he has control. 

“Ah, jellybean, isn’t this nice?” He rocks you with him. “You have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming of this.” He’s right, you don’t. The more he talks, the more you suspect he’s been watching you for longer than you realise. And he talks a lot. “You and I. Happy. Together.” 

He unclutches his hand and it wanders up your naked chest. Goosebumps rise at the reminder of your nudity. He’s the only person who’s seen you like this. He’s the last person you would want to. You squirm as you feel him harden beneath you.  

His other hand walks to your thigh. He tickles your skin and pushes his fingertips firmly into your soft flesh. You shudder as his touch sends a tingle through you. 

“So, since we’re doing this the not-so-fun way, how about a trip to Las Vegas? We can hit a drive-thru chapel then stop at the casino. Gamble a little, fuck a lot--” 

“Vegas?” You echo. “I...” 

“Oh, yeah, you’re classy, aren’t you, bean? Yeah, that’s not right. Vegas. For my wife. Did you know you can get married pretty easily in Hawaii. And it’s gorgeous,” he purrs. “You’ve never been to Hawaii.” 

You wince. Each time he tells you how much he knows about you, you remember how little you know of him. Where did he come from? How did he find you? And what kind of man nonchalantly gasses someone one out after a whole stalking campaign? This is absurd. You just can’t believe it’s real. 

As he fondles your chest, you’re assured that it is very real. 

“Your heart’s racing,” he shifts his hand to spread flat above your tits. “You’re excited. Me too, bean. Me too. I promise, this ain’t just about the sex. Which I am very much rock hard about. No, jellybean, this is about us. About us expressing our love for each other. Sealing it. A pact to be together. Forever.” 

He laughs. You might even call it a giggle. He nuzzles your hair and hums. 

“Look what you’ve done to me. I feel like a teenager. I’m... I’m just... happy. I’ve never been more certain of anything, bean,” he purrs as he flutters his fingers down your stomach. “You know, I always thought marriage was stupid. Women, they were fun. Something to play with.” He pets your pelvis as he speaks. “I know, I know, I won’t mention the past. You don’t need to know about my mistakes. I was lost without you, jellybean. Stupid. Those women. Sluts. They mean nothing.” 

You stiffen and catch his wrist. His splays his fingers, then curls them. 

“I know, I’m getting impatient. Promise, I’ll be your good boy. I can wait.” He hooks his other arm around you. “Tell ya what. We’ll relax, get freshened up, then we can go book our flights, and look for a pretty dress.” He rambles on as you stare at the ceiling in horror. Everything you say is just a hurdle he easily jumps overs, “and some sexy lingerie. Only the best for my, bean, right?” 

It’s a good thing he can’t see your face. As clueless as he is, you think your disgust would be all too obvious.  

🩷

Lloyd has everything ready to go. Tickets, luggage you’ve never seen before, and even a passport. You never had a passport. You never travelled and you could never spare the money for the expense of it. That eerie suspicion rises again. How long has he been plotting to dismantle your entire life? 

The question hardly matters. You can’t go back. He’ll make sure of that. He already has. What is there to go back to? An empty apartment and no job. You doubt the company will buy the ‘oh sorry, I was kidnapped’ excuse. 

As unprepared you are for any of this, the airport is well beyond anything you can bare. As you enter, you’re struck by the sheer number of people and the noise alone is enough to make your ears itch. You stand in line with Lloyd, searching around for any sliver of hope. This is it. You get on that plane, and that’s the end. 

You cover your ears as your head begins to pulse. Lloyd nudges you as the queue moves ahead of him and you pull your luggage along. He hands over the boarding passes and your IDs, then helps get the bigger bags onto a cart. He retrieves his phone and the passports and leads you off towards security with only your carry-on. 

You shrink down as you’re crowded on both sides. Lloyd startles you as he rubs your back. You glance over at him with wide eyes. 

“Once we get through security, we can head over to the diamond long, jellybean. Less crowded there,” he keeps his arm around you, “only the best for wifey.” 

You turn your head straight and stare at the back of the stranger in front of you. You hate this. You never enjoy being among the general public but this is all too much. There’s so much sound and people and moving. It’s chaos. 

You hold your breath until your eyes threaten to bulge. You slowly let air through your nose as your eyes flick back and forth. You want to run but there’s nowhere to go. 

Lloyd ushers you forward and your feet drag. When it’s your turn, you walk through the scanner then stop for them to wave a wand around you. You wait as Lloyd collects his watch, phone, and wallet from the tray. 

He comes to you and takes your carry-on from you. He directs you around as you look around at the people rushing by. Faces blur and voices blare. You only move in hopes of being free of this. 

He leads you through a tunnel and the wall of noise fades behind you. You come into a lobby with a desk labeled Diamond Lounge. A woman greets you with a chirp but it’s much preferable to the chattering and yelling of before. 

Lloyd shows your boarding passes again. The woman says something but you can’t discern her words clearly. You're tugged by your hand into another room. 

The lighting is softer and the space is sectioned by leather seating and mounted televisions, and low tables. There are artificial fires set into the walls and pillows waiting on the cushions. You follow Lloyd to a couch and he sits you down beside him. 

“Hey,” he puts his hand on your shoulder, running his thumb up and down, “jellybean, you okay? You look foggy.” 

You look at him and cough. Your chest aches from holding your breath. You nod and sit back. His hand slips away from you. 

“Bean?” He murmurs. 

You press your tongue to the roof of your mouth. Another woman in a white blazer similar to the one behind the desk appears. She pours two glasses of bubbly wine. You watch her and say nothing. 

She leaves and Lloyd caresses your knee. You stare at his hand. The dress he put on you chafes. You want jeans and a tee shirt. 

“I...” you begin hoarsely, “hate people.” 

He stills his hand and covers your knee, “I know, baby. Me too. We’ll be okay. It won’t be so bad from here.” He drags his hand away and takes the stemmed glasses, “here,” he offers you one. “Cheers.” 

You take it and hold it up. He clinks his against it but you do not drink. He sips but stops himself. 

“This will be good for us, jellybean. Just think, a proper wedding would be overcrowded, overpriced, and overdone. You know,” he leans towards you and grins, “what I love about you, besides the fact that you’re gorgeous from head to tits to ass to toe, is that you like simple things.” 

You blink at him and take a gulp. This isn’t just a flight or a shotgun wedding, this is your whole life. This man, this maniac, is never going to let you go. 

“You need anything? You hungry? You want a blanket? You can relax, baby--” 

You think about that more. He’s as good as giving you a life sentence. With him. It’s not just terrifying, it’s enraging. He’s enraging. He never stops. 

“I need you to shut up,” you snap without thinking. 

He recoils and his brows arch, “jellybean?” 

Your mouth opens and you stare at him. You wait for him to explode. To say something. He just looks at you, stunned. 

“I said shut up,” you repeat shakily. 

“Oh? I’m sorry, bean. I know you get a bit stressed from everything going on--” 

“Shut.” You trace a finger through the air, “up.” 

He takes a breath then shuts his mouth. He nods and pouts. He bats his eyes at you and sits back. You watch him uncertainly. He just looks back at you. You turn your attention to the glass of wine and drain it. 

Finally, some peace and quiet. 

🩷

Every little girl, every woman dreams of their wedding. Don’t they? 

No. Not you. Not ever. Never. Not in a million years. And to that man? 

To your surprise, the plane ride is quiet. You have your first-class seat and a pair of earbuds and an almost worryingly quiet neighbour. Since you barked at him to stop talking, Lloyd has obeyed. The longer he stays silent, the more you worry.  

Is he angry? You don’t want to care if he is but this man is dangerous even if he is ridiculous. He did gas you out of your former life. 

You disembark and he gets the bags. All of them. He’s suffocatingly servile. He loads the rental car and opens the passenger door for you. The only words he utters are ‘jellybean’ or some other redundant pet name. 

You chew your lip as you stare out the window. It’s gorgeous. It takes until that moment for reality to hit. You’re in Hawaii. You’re far away from home. Further than you’ve ever been. The beauty of the island battles with your displacement. 

The hotel is just as immaculate as the rest of the scenery. Lloyd checks you in and sends for the bags. You go to the balcony and stare off at the ocean as he fumbles around the suite. 

“On its way?” He says into the phone. “Yeah, that’s great. And the minister? Mmhm, yes, right on the beach.” 

You slump and cross your arms. You want to just fold into yourself. Maybe if you bash your head against the window... 

“Jellybean,” Lloyd calls to you. You cringe at the glass doors and turn your head slightly. He approaches, almost demure in his posture. “I don’t want to ruin our special day but there are a few things we still need to get ready for tomorrow.” 

You face him fully and stare. Now he wants your input? 

“You know I love you, right, bean?” He says, his lips twitching. He smooths his mustache with his fingers then shakes his hand out. You don’t have an answer, just an endless stare. “I’d do anything for you.” 

Love? Really? Right. He knows you as much as you know him. Not much. He might know about you, but he doesn’t really know you. And do anything for you or to you? Or to keep you? Because none of this is what you want. 

“Your dress will be your something new, and something old is your ring. Did I mention it belong to Elizabeth Taylor?” He smiles sheepishly, “so you just need something blue... I was thinking a garter? And something borrowed...” He puts his hands together and wiggles free his pinky ring, “you can try it on? Or just put it on a chain.” 

You squint at him. He’s crazy. That’s obvious but he really is. He thinks this is a dream come true. Not just his, but yours. This is an actual nightmare. 

“Well...” he takes your hand and presses the ring into your palm. “I know you need to rest before the big day so there’s some wine and whatever in the mini fridge. I can get you some champagne? Or something else? Are you hungry?” 

You shake your head and pull your hand from his. You turn away and look back through the window. You watch the coast and the peaceful lapping of water. You can’t be there right now, not mentally. So in your head, you’ll run out into the waves until they swallow you up. That’s much preferable. 

“Jellybean,” he says, “I’ll shut up now.” 

[vaguely-concerned]

Eight Little Talons Reread Thoughts

Which, I’ll level with you folks, is mostly just me gushing about Teia and Viago and how much they should kiss because of who I am as a person, but maybe also some actual observations sprinkled in. This is still my favourite story in Tevinter Nights, I think, there’s so much Character Stuff in it. Let’s go!

Viago hated carriages—no amount of plush seating could make up for the inevitable ache of being knocked around like weighted dice. But decorum insisted, and he would not be outclassed by his fellow Talons.

Vs.

“You didn’t take a carriage.” 

“My luggage did. But I couldn’t resist the opportunity for a country jaunt.” She nodded toward the thoroughbred Taslin strider grazing on the top of the hill. “Andoral so rarely gets a chance to let loose in Rialto.” 

“You named your horse after an archdemon?” 

“Don’t worry, Vi. I won’t let him nip you.

You know… Andarateia might gain some illusion of normalcy by standing next to the most paranoid wound-up-tight repressed man around to provide contrast, but I think it’s crucial we keep in mind that she is also nuts. Naming your horse after an archdemon IS an insane thing to do in the world of Thedas huh. I suppose she genuinely seems to think of Caterina Dellamorte as a warm maternal figure and is in love with a tetchy snake of a guy too, it does all start to add up when you look at it like that.

— Beneath the smooth samite, he felt like a sinewy ball of tension. Teia suspected contact of any kind made Viago uncomfortable. It would explain why he swathed himself in indigo from chin to toe and refused to remove his gloves during dinner.

He offers his arm to her and doesn’t pull away when they meet Caterina — only when Dante shows up. Interesting (and possibly part of why Caterina seems to consider the two of them a cleverly stabilizing package deal when they get along lol). I love the mix of playful seduction and genuine fond, intimate knowledge and interest Teia has for him all the way through too — speculating about his childhood, trying to divine his thoughts and intentions, testing to see how he reacts to different things. And it’s so sweet that she seems to regard him with this affectionate amusement and fascination (which he seems to be afraid means that she’s mocking him but is, I think, just another level of appreciation she has for him. Correctly. Because he’s one of the funniest people in Thedas both in concept and in practice. Accountant brained-ass noodle arm Vetinari homage poison specialist. Teia’s neurotic purse dog of a man. Sole royal bastard who willingly chose to have a boring Antivan day job (killing people) and makes spreadsheets about it.) 

— “Not exactly welcoming, are they?” Teia whispered, her breath warm against his ear. 

Viago’s grip tightened on the head of his walking stick.

I swear to god courtney woods is so fucking good at writing romantic and sexual tension. One sentence!!! She drops in a one-sentence detail and it says everything!!!! She has such a knack for consistently adding these details without getting overindulgent or spelling it out too much that I really admire, I tend a bit more towards indulging too much as a writer that way myself so her sense of where to show restraint has me in awe 

— “Don’t ‘Nonna’ me, Andarateia Cantori,” Caterina snapped, although the heat in her voice had lowered to a simmer. “Not even my actual grandchildren call me that.” 

“Well, considering who your grandchildren are,” Teia responded, “I’m not surprised.” 

“How is Master Lucanis?” Viago asked.

Hell yeah Lucanis mention! Can’t wait to see how their dynamics will turn out in-game, we could be in for some truly spectacular and absurd workplace comedy nonsense if we’re lucky

— As always, Viago had with him his leather case of poisons and antidotes for toxins typically hidden in ingredients such as olives, truffles, pasta, lamb, cheese, cream, and alcohol. But he had not expected eggplant.

This is one of the funniest things I’ve ever read, I love Viago so much he’s such a perfect weirdo. Reader, he had not expected eggplant. 

— Taking a deep breath, Viago focused on tying his cravat—an ordinarily simple task except now Teia was running her hands across every surface in his room, and his fingers kept slipping on the final knot. “It would help if you removed the gloves,” Teia remarked. “Surely your own cravats haven’t been tampered with.”

Viago being just… seethingly horrifically despairingly horny every time Teia shows up is so amazing, and Teia clearly paying A Lot of attention to his hands and his reactions at all times… again, courtney woods s tier sexual tension provider. 

— “No,” she said, crossing her arms. “Not until we boil some water.” 

Viago raised a brow. “Eight people were poisoned in this room.” 

“Then run your little tests to make sure it’s safe, but I refuse to look at another dead body until I’ve had my coffee.”

I must take care to repeat: teia is also fucking nuts (affectionate). It’s SO FUNNY that her slightly lighter and softer moral take on being a Crow means she does feel bad about the servants ending up in the crossfire, but she will also demand that viago make her coffee with their horrifically bloated corpses still strewn about the room fhdsjka. 

— Teia had often imagined what it would be like to kiss Viago. She told herself it was only natural. He was handsome, in his own way, and wound up so tight that she likened him to a giant knot. He was a challenge to untie—to twist and pull and loosen until the tension gave way and he unraveled, laying bare all his secrets. But knots were a delicate business. Tug the wrong way and you could end up with a noose.

I know I KNOW they have sex so weird and intimate and no one even takes their clothes off during it I know it in my heart

— “Do you not think you’re attractive?” Viago turned on her, his ears pink. “Ten people are dead.” 

She didn’t back down. “And whoever’s responsible will pay, but that has no bearing on this conversation.” 

“It could be me.” 

Covering her mouth with both hands, Teia doubled over, laughter spilling from her lips. “It’s not you.” 

He looked as if she’d slapped him. “I’m more than capable of killing everyone here.” 

“Don’t tell me you’re offended!” 

“It is offensive,” Viago protested. “Professionally.”

Teia please tell me you love me not only for my body and fashion sense and numerous and fascinating neuroses but also my extensive knowledge of poisons and capacity to cause death

— Again, Viago felt like a lute string. With every challenge, Teia twisted the pegs, tuning him, until she found what she wanted. Which is what, exactly? he asked himself, not daring to listen to the number of answers that bubbled to the surface of his mind.

You know Viago I think we should let her try some scales here at least. See what happens. (There’s no explicit sex in this story but everything that’s going on is nevertheless so kinky fdsjak. I think Teia could convince Viago to show a flash of his naked wrist and have a reaction like a sheltered young Victorian gentleman seeing an exposed ankle and a playful wink for the first time)

— As if she could feel the sudden rush of shame within him, Teia brought her hands up to rest on Viago’s hips, holding him in place. His thumb stilled as he realized her breath was short. Her pupils dilated. Before he could stop himself, Viago nuzzled his forehead against hers, his nose brushing her cheek. Teia’s hands snaked up his chest to run through his hair. She tugged him forward. He braced himself on one arm, while the other curled around the small of her back. 

This whole scene is unspeakably good of course but it’s always the detail of ‘his nose brushing her cheek’ that does me in the most. The longing!!! The yearning, the intimacy, the awkward perfect clumsy physical reality of it!!!! If he kissed her here the magical potion thing on her lips would have been immaterial, the results would have been the same without it!!!!!! The tug of war between longing and fear!

— oblique Zevran mention! <3 as the ultimate failson of house arainai, granted, but as I believe he might argue here: ‘ah, but you have heard of me, no? :>’. Babe I support you so much go out there and raise hell/kill whoever you want to I got your flower

— Big shoutout to the author for managing to pull off an entirely workable ‘And Then There Were None’ plot in the background here, even though the real meat and potatoes going on is the character and relationship development (and what meat and potatoes they are too)! It’s not an easy thing to do even in an abbreviated, more of a homage sort of form and balancing it with everything else going on is a feat

— Caterina 100% knows Teia is in Viago’s room when he’s supposed to be isolated and just doesn’t care lmao. (They act like such teenagers in that scene where she knocks on the door and they haven’t even kissed yet I’m dying). Caterina seems like a terrible person but it’s impossible to not feel for her a little, trying to keep Talons in line seems a lot like herding (very horny very carrying sharp objects) cats 

— Standing outside her ex-lover’s room, Teia tried to quell the violent drumming within her. Normally, she didn’t need to come down from a physical encounter. Seduction—like any form of manipulation—was about control. She could enjoy herself, but Teia always made sure to hold the upper hand. Viago had shattered that control without so much as a kiss.

I feel like this is a sneaky common trait that actually is part of what makes them so compatible (and the playful negotiation of which must feature prominently in their sex life eventually lmao): they are both HUGE control freaks. (Indeed it might be hard to be a successful Talon without this trait.) Teia and Viago both strive for control of themselves and their surroundings so deeply, she’s just much more extroverted, psychologically minded and soft power focused going about it (not unlike Caterina, whose power is built more on fear than charm but works along the same lines), while he’s more coldly intellectual and uh materialist? I want to call it? about it. Which makes perfect sense considering their backstories! Teia came from nothing in a monetary sense but has found she excels at moving people, hearts and minds style — and she’s very good at it, she is everyone’s favorite — so that’s the source of power for her, and Viago is not very charismatic or interested in people naturally but grew up seeing how status, wealth and power have their own clinical gravity that can be used, and also that people can never be trusted to watch out for you in that system.  

If Thedas has a Machiavelli-equivalent to ask whether it’s better for a ruler to be feared or loved they would both instantly give their answer with their whole chest and then squint at each other like ‘babe how do you live like this’ lol

(Also this line of thought has me wondering what the hell Caterina’s partner/spouse(s) would have been like — she must have at least two children to account for Illario and Lucanis, I wonder if she was ever married and what that looked like.)

— I really like the oppressiveness and claustrophobia you get from the descriptions Teia uses in Dante’s room — it feels so icky and sticky with history and sad and confining, and the way she keeps pushing herself through it anyway is weirdly melancholy to me. 

— I also like how their flaws/traits that drive them apart at the crisis point have follow-up consequences outside of their relationship before they reconcile. Teia’s penchant for manipulation and pushing on people indirectly causes the death of someone she once cared about (I mean, fuck that guy, not crying any tears for Dante or his broken bottle, but like in the overarching principle of the thing lol). When she goes too far with it or gets careless, she renders other people vulnerable and helpless in ways she doesn’t anticipate. (Rightfully or not this seems to be part of what scares Viago so much about it, he has this fear of being dissected for whatever she finds interesting and then abandoned when she’s tired of it, the whole underlying being a footnote in her life when she could clearly be something uh a lot more in his anxiety.) Meanwhile Viago’s insistence on self-reliance and reluctance to engage in human contact leaves him easily isolated and nearly results in his death. (And even when Teia saves him he has a hard time giving her full credit in favour of his many neurotic coping mechanisms lmao disaster man.) But when the two of them work it out to understand each other better and come together as a partnership, they’re such a force to be reckoned with that it brute forces the resolution and return to stability near the end. (Well. A significantly reduced version of stability to be fair but y’know better late than never.)

— Also: delicious detail that she is actually the closest you might get to a self-made woman/Talon, and he is definitely at least not in a position to fully dodge the nepo baby allegations — he wants so bitterly to be entirely independent and self-sufficient and not reliant on anyone, and yet it’s his connections inherent to his birth that have helped him get here, while she wants so desperately to have people to rely on because she comes from nothing and has known what it is to be that alone and unprotected. He knows protection and gifts — and love — can easily be taken away and used to control you/render you helpless in your vulnerability from how his father treated his mother, and she knows you have to try to hold on to something in other people or it’s just you and the dirt and you die. Which is what they’re really talking about in that scene where they argue, and it’s why they’re both right and wrong at the same time and it’s so tasty. It’s really Teia asking ‘Will you ever trust anyone? (will you ever trust me, or will you put up this wall every time no matter what I say or do?)’ and Viago going ‘Will you never take precautions to protect yourself against this hurt? (will I have to be the bearer of bad news about how the world really is every time?)’ and neither of them realize that’s what they’re taling about and it’s why it all explodes so badly. (I mean. Factually both came to the wrong conclusion about who the murderer was for fairly good reasons, so there’s also that haha.) 

— I wonder if we’ll see Bolivar or the heirs to the houses left Talon-less in the game itself. I’m guessing they probably won’t have big roles, at least, but you know just as background flavour, especially since Crow!Rook is already within the de Riva uh household as it were. I think Viago is still sensibly mid-table at Fifth Talon in Veilguard and Teia remains Seventh? So at least they’re not messing around with that rank order during the occupation 

— In semi-not teia and viago news (I am a character first writer and reader I canot change this), it’s neat to see it outlined just how much the Talons really are just merchant princes with some more added knives and cultural weight behind them. They are at the end of the day running businesses, no matter the mystique ™ you wrap it in. (Which I think Viago would be the first to tell you and Teia might try to argue against at least a little haha. Being a Talon is what you make of it you live your truth girl kill awful men you’ll never run out of contracts!!)

— Can’t believe the Crows have self-congratulatory ‘top 10 murders in history!’ classes as part of the training. Do you think Zev sat through those. Probably, if Teia did, right. Now there were some entertaining hours around the campfire during the Blight I’m sure

— Viago understanding but not accepting Teia’s offer to help him with an alibi and at first angling it as being out of hesitancy to accept help/rely on someone, and then later unveiling the added element that he knows Teia respects and loves Caterina and doesn’t want her to have to lie to her for him… Viago is nothing so simple as secretly nice deep down but he IS horrifically in love with and desperate to be kind to specifically Teia and it gets to me okay  

— I’d forgotten that DA’s passionate love affair with toxic yuri and some recreational bury your gays extended to Guili and Lera in this fdskjah. Would it really be Thedas without it I suppose (considering the genre of the short story it’s fine with me in this case, though, everyone’s dropping like flies in this even the straight people that’s just equality) 

— Viago was not a typical Antivan. He liked facts—checklists, numbers, precise measurements. Heart palpitations, clammy hands, tight pants—Viago did not like these things. In fact, he would go so far as to say he hated them. Mild curiosity was his favorite mood. What Teia had elicited in him was akin to an internal natural disaster.

I simply love him so so much. Mild curiosity was his favorite mood. He failed to account for the eggplant. He’s so annoyed at being poisoned and dying horribly and it literally never occurs to him that anyone would help him until he wakes up in Teia’s lap. He organizes all his poisons by puns. He uses his potentially last breath to argue with Teia about his precise state of dress or undress. Have we finally found him, the perfect man? 

(Also between Reyes and Viago Courtney Woods does such a good line in guys who’d really rather be emotionless machines of practical violence and monetary gain but find themselves down so horrifically catastrophically bad that it cracks them open to reveal a soul they aren’t all that happy to discover they have lol) 

— When Viago woke, it felt like someone had drained the blood from his body and replaced it with sludge. But it wasn’t all bad—someone who smelled like coffee and cinnamon was playing with his hair. . . . Her fingers resumed stroking his hair. It felt better than the water. It felt better than anything.

Unspeakable. Don’t look at me. 

— Viago reaching out and touching Teia’s cheek with his bare hands without a thought and all his tenderness and reverence for her laid bare in turn is something that can actually be so personal and it only took very nearly dying to get there (also… he’s presumably still half-naked through all of this while cradled in her lap. Amazing.). Can’t believe bare hands to cheek feels like third base with these two. And his fucking THOUGHTS through all of this… Don’t cry, he doesn’t deserve your tears, no one does (I don’t, I don’t want to be something that causes you pain) AOUGH

— Vaguely related: the implication in how that part is built is that he’s reaching out specifically to gently dry away her tears, right. Double AOUGHHHHHH not only does he manage to not be selfish or unfair in asking her not to cry he does that instead… there’s hope for you yet messere de riva  

— Teia with the red-hot poker standing guard over Viago while he ‘looks like a king in judgement’ and does the Poirot in the library exposition is everything and so hot what the fuck. She a snacc she attacc but most importantly… she protecc, she’s so fucking cool lol. they’re both really smart, but she’s clearly the brawn as well as the social skills (hey manipulation is such an ugly word!) and he’s the logistics and realpolitik on two long thin nerdy legs, absolute power couple. She’s the gaslight he’s the girlboss together may they gatekeep this invading army out of antiva  

— You guys… this might come as a surprise I have tried to keep it on the down low but. I really do love the world of Thedas so very much. I love the people and the places and the history and the stupidness and the brilliance so much. We must save the world because everyone I love lives here. Let this be a secret between just you and me we can’t let people know we sit/have emotions etc.  

— A servant approached to take the cage in Viago’s hand. 

“Careful,” Viago warned. “He bites.” 

“I can’t believe you’re keeping that snake,” Teia said, shaking her head. “It almost killed you.” 

“Which is more than any man can say. He deserves my respect. And a good home—with all the mice he can eat.” 

“But did you have to name it Emil?” Teia asked, making a face. 

“An homage. You’re always telling me to recognize my fellow Talons.”

Andarateia ‘names her horse after an archdemon’ Cantori x Viago ‘keeps the deadly adder that nearly killed him as a pet and names it after the last guy who failed to murder him’ de Riva. Freak well and truly matched. Soulmates, no notes, I’ll do borderline anything for these two to make it, goodnight. 

[roseykat]

KINKTOBER DAY 9

TITLE: Don't bite the hand that feeds you

PAIRING: Seungmin x reader

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate every single interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work and page whatsoever.

SUMMARY: Featuring Seungmin as your lecturer's student assistant who runs your tutorials and possesses just as harsh a personality as he fucks.

TAGS: Mean tutor Seungmin, oral sex (f!reader receiving), unprotected sex, public sex, swearing.

KINK: Freelance

KINKTOBER23 - MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @kbitties @luneskies @mal-lunar-28 @kibs-and-bits @aaasia111 @fairy-lixie @dreamingaboutjisung @queenmea604

A/N: this is for all the Seungmin stans out there x

There isn’t any way to work around a more stubborn person. People that you’ve met before don’t even come close to the level of arrogance that this person carries with them. That person being one of your tutors for a class at Uni, Seungmin. For some reason, he always has the time of day to help other people but has an issue with your supposed incompetence in completing a task when it comes to you. 

Seungmin never checks your work, never goes over your answers, discusses your ideas or anything like that. He has a very prickly attitude yet only those needles are only for you. You see the sigh he lets out whenever you need to approach him to clarify something he went over during the tutorial. You see the crease between his eyebrows as the annoyance grows when you ask if he can read a draft of yours before you submit it. 

He never does that with other students. Seungmin is happy to help them, makes conversation with them before class, and always seems to have time for them. 

The difference in his behaviour towards you definitely placed an unnecessary burden on your shoulders. But you’re not one to budge. Whether his intentions are malicious or not, you’re not exactly an easy one to crack, which is why you continued to supposedly ‘bother’ him. 

“Hey,” you approach him after one of his tutorials, hoping you used a good enough manner to not light a fire under his seat. “Would you be able to check this for me?”

Seungmin furrows his eyebrows - not a good sign, and averts his eyes from the whiteboard to look at your paper, “I can’t help you with that.”

“And why is that?” You question. “You had no trouble looking at everyone else’s. How’s mine any different?”

“Judging from your grades, I’d suspect there would be a lot of differences,” he responds.

“I’ll take that as a compliment since I’m one of the top in the class thank you,” you scoff. 

“And one of the top most arrogant too,” Seungmin fires back. “If you haven’t got anything relevant to show me, I suggest you leave. The next tutorial group starts in twenty minutes.” 

Your face contorts slightly, “well since this isn’t relevant enough for you, is it possible for you to check over one of the drafts we have to send in on Friday?”

“Can’t do that either-“

“Then what can you do exactly?” You cut him off impatiently. “Seriously, I’ve been trying to ask you for help for the past two weeks and you’ve only ever given me vague answers to my questions and you won’t proofread any of my work which is what you’re here to do.”

Seungmin takes off his glasses and closes the distance between himself and you, “I don’t help out entitled people like you who always demand things.”

You glare up at him, “I’m not entitled. I was just merely commenting about the fact that you don’t do what you’re being paid to do.”

“And you just keep proving my point as to why you are entitled, because you don’t shut up and you always complain. After every tutorial, you come up to me and ask me for something.” 

“Yeah, just like everyone else and yet, I don’t see you giving the same shit to them as you do to me,” you argue right back with him. 

“That’s because you expect things to be handed to you on a silver plate. Unlike them, you don’t work for your shit with me,” Seungmin responds, placing the cap on the whiteboard marker a little bit too rough. 

“Being here is me working for my shit,” you press back. “You’re just being a stubborn ass because you don’t like me.”

“Well you’re right with one thing,” he sighs.

You roll your eyes and scoff, “fuck you honestly.” 

It took a lot of effort not to just shove Seungmin out of your way as you headed out the door with a fresh stormy cloud looming over your head. Felix could spot it a mile away when you went to meet up with him for lunch nearby after his class too. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks carefully, studying the pained expression on your face. 

“Nothing,” you sigh, trying to let it go. “Just one of my stupid tutors.”

“Is this the same one that isn’t doing his job properly?” Felix questions, remembering the conversation you both had about him a while back. 

“Bingo.”

“You know, he’s probably dealing with things in the background that you don’t know about,” Felix points out, his habit of always giving people the benefit of the doubt starting to shine through. 

“Yeah, pretty sure he’s dealing with ‘absolute fucking dickhead disorder’,” you spit. “And even if he was - even if the worst is happening to him, he has no right to be taking out his anger or frustration on me.” 

Felix sports a disappointed look on his face, “is it just you, or are there others?”

“It’s just me, I swear.”

“Okay, I believe you,” Felix assures. “If he really is as bad as you say he is, maybe just ignore him. We’ve only got seven weeks left, that’s not too long until you can get away from him, yeah?” 

It was easier said than done, because the next round of tutorials that approached in the following week, opened up that fresh wound of just seeing Seungmin’s face and dreading it. All of Felix’s advice went out the gate, almost like it was never there in the first place.

In the end, you simply chose not to speak. What’s the point in arguing with a person who won’t move?

So right after the tutorial, you don’t bother darting straight to Seungmin and asking for his help. He’s not willing to give it to you so there’s no point in lingering behind. As you pack your things up from the table and start to head out, Seungmin peers at you from behind the glasses that you so badly want to knock off his face sometimes. 

He’s not entirely stumped that you haven’t approached him, but he is a bit intrigued. Maybe he had come across too strongly with you the other day - maybe within the past month without being of any help to you at all. Then again, Seungmin isn’t the most apologetic of people. 

“Surprised you’re not asking me to check anything for you,” he projects his voice to you just before you leave the class. 

You heard him on your way out, but what’s a retaliation going to do? Only add fuel to your own fire. Seungmin isn’t the one who’s got something to lose here. He’s just a student tutor who’s clearly got enough competence to reinforce the learning you receive during lectures. At the end of the day, his grades for this class aren’t on the line. Yours are. 

“Y/N,” you hear a voice call out to you, recognising it to be Felix. Caught up in the swirl of your own thoughts, you almost forgot Felix had been waiting for your tutorial to end as he sat in a row of seats against the wall. 

“Hey,” you call out to him. 

“So, how was it? Did you say anything to him?” He asks as you sit down beside him. 

“I just gave up,” you answer. “I forgot that you can’t get your point across to dickheads so I stopped trying. I’ll just go to the other classes' tutorials if they let me switch. Or maybe I can just cross-check my work with their tutor.”

“Geez, that bad is he?”

“The fucking worst,” you confirm.

However, you weren’t surprised to learn that Seungmin’s attitude and behaviour still continued in the following tutorial, close to an essay hand-in date which is what you didn’t need. The only saving grace is that instead of going over the content that you learned in an earlier lecture, Seungmin allowed his students to study for another upcoming in-class test in the upcoming week. 

You spent that time wisely working on the essay you needed to hand in since it was the first due. Then, by two o’clock, everyone started wrapping up their study session. You slot your books into your bag, zip it up, and ready to leave.

“You, come here,” Seungmin speaks in your direction, but you really don’t want to listen. At first to begin with, you were surprised he was even talking to you.

“And if I don’t?” 

“Don’t be stubborn. I want to talk about your assignment,” he replies. He set his bait and waited for you to take it. So you approach him hesitantly from your chair, leaving your bag behind at the table. 

“See, how hard was that?” 

You roll your eyes. Not even a full conversation in and he’s already made you reach your limit, “oh go fuck yourself.”

Upon hearing your nasty sentiment, Seungmin’s hand latches quickly onto your wrist, “what did you just say?”

You look down at your arm in disbelief, then back up to him, his eyes narrowing at you, “what?”

“Say it again.”

“I said; ‘go fuck yourself.”

“Fucking brat.” 

Without warning, Seungmin’s hands grasp the sides of your arms in a flash, backing you against the wall behind him. Out of nowhere, his mouth comes down and crashes against yours in a bruising kiss. There’s no time to process what’s actually going on when you start kissing him back, allowing his tongue to delve deeper into his mouth. 

In the back of your mind, you can’t believe your own actions, but at the same time, pushing back on him also feels like you’re letting some of that frustration go. To take things further, Seungmin breaks away from you for a moment, turning your body by your arms, and backs you straight into the desk until your hips hit the edge.

Your first instinct tells you to lean back while your legs automatically lift so that Seungmin can slot right in, pressing his semi-hard dick against your pussy. 

It gives you the opportunity to wrap your legs around his waist, trying to bring him in closer as you hope for more friction. Seungmin pins your wrists down to the desk, kissing along your jaw and down to your throat where he bites and sucks until there’s a line of future regretful hickies for you to deal with later on. 

“D-Do something,” you stammer, feeling so dizzy from the pleasure that you desperately start to chase. 

“Why should I?” He mumbles into your skin. 

You turn your head, watching figures of people pass by through the frosted glass of the door who could potentially walk in at any given time. In saying that, a portion of you recognises that there’s something so naughty about being caught in the act. 

“Please Seungmin,” you beg for him, feeding into his ego. 

His head rises from your neck, “that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you say ‘please’.” 

You didn’t care what he meant by that. All you care about is relieving that itch inside the pit of your stomach because you know that horny feeling will take a long time to dissipate. Nonetheless, Seungmin seems to listen to you when he unbuttons the first two buttons of his white dress shirt. 

His fingers reach down to your jeans, unzipping them and yanking them right off your legs until you’re just left in your underwear, already soaking through. Seungmin uses the pad of his thumb to brush gently over the fabric which is sticky to the touch. It makes the corner of his mouth tug up. 

“Keep quiet if you don’t want people to come in,” he warns before taking his glasses off and placing them to the side of you before kneeling down. 

Your chest already starts heaving just feeling his warm breath fan across your inner thighs. The anticipation leading up to it has you clawing at the desk when Seungmin starts removing your underwear. 

“Look how fucking wet you are,” he speaks from a stance of astonishment just seeing what he was able to do to you from a simple makeout session and some rough and tumble. 

His comment turns you into a flustered mess that is easily shattered when Seungmin moves his mouth closer to your pussy, kissing your inner thigh and inching closer until he reaches your clit. Your back arches in an instant. One hand clasps over your mouth to stifle a loud moan at the heat of Seungmin’s mouth, the other grabs a fistful of his hair and starts tugging. He doesn’t dare hold back; sucking on your clit, lapping up at what he can to make your entire body shudder. 

It never occurred to you that Seungmin is like this. You’ve always made him out to be some rich, entitled, arrogant, teacher's pet with good grades and an outstanding reputation when he goes and does shit like this – eating you out in broad daylight, in public.

Whatever rabid spirit took over Seungmin, it wasn’t stopping him. His tongue dances perfect circles and random shapes against your clit, embracing your thighs quivering shamelessly around his head. 

“Oh my god, feels…feels so good,” you mutter, using every drop of energy you can to subdue the moans into whimpers. 

Not even the hand you’ve been trying to use to cover your mouth is working because when Seungmin keeps building you up to that edge, you increasingly become louder. But that’s all on him for initiating this, not that you’re complaining. Not when your head is just about thrashing back behind you on the wooden surface trying to syphon all the pleasure you’re getting. It’s like rouge electricity, a live wire inside of you that has no chance of being tamed. 

“Fuck, gonna make me cum,” you mumble, eyelids already fluttering. “So…good.”

Seungmin heard that as a sign to press his face further into your pussy but kept the same momentum and pace that his tongue uses to make you cum, and when you do, every ounce of pleasure pours into all the cells throughout your body. It rattles you in such a good way, that you forget how hard you’re tugging on Seungmin’s hair as he continues to eat you out through to the very end. But you managed to stay quiet – just. 

Your body unstiffens and your chest heaves up and down trying to catch air. The orgasm was so massive that afterwards, you couldn’t figure out what time it was or where you were. It nearly took out every bit of consciousness you had remaining. 

“Been wanting to do that for a while,” he rasps. 

Whatever that means – not that you can articulate it as of yet. You’re still trying to grapple with reality and when Seungmin unzips his pants to free his cock, you know there’s no point in trying.

He’s big in length and has a sizeable girth. He teases you with his tip, sliding up and down from your now oversensitive clit to your drenched hole. Just feeling how wet you are makes him wonder one thing:

“Are you a virgin?” He asks. 

You’re still trying to regain a bit of consciousness, only able to muster a few words at a time, “no...no I’m not.”

“I pinned it down to either that or someone hasn’t touched you in a while,” he responds. You groan at the embarrassment. Seungmin must obviously be that experienced for him to make such an observation. 

“The latter. Now just hurry up and fuck me.” 

“Shut up,” Seungmin snipes, even though he begins to push his cock inside of you at a terribly slow pace. 

You didn’t realise how much you had been aching to have someone inside you. Your own fingers can’t seem to do the right trick of actually feeling full and satisfied. But now that Seungmin is here, slowly thrusting in until he reaches the hilt, can he make you feel that way. 

“Jesus fuck,” Seungmin bites down on his lip and has to hold onto the edge of the desk beside your body for support. 

He’s never felt anything like it. Even after sleeping with other women prior to you in his past, there’s something about the way you feel that isn’t like the rest. Maybe it’s from the fact that you hadn’t been touched in a while or not, either way, Seungmin can’t contain himself when he starts thrusting properly. 

His cock glides in like melted butter, the lewd wet sounds making you want to hide from embarrassment. But Seungmin revels in it like it’s about to slip through his fingers like sand. So he lowers his body onto yours, resting some of his weight comfortably on you. It’s intimate yes, but it enables Seungmin to start whispering things in your ear. 

“So fucking wet for me, aren’t you?” He purrs. “Such a good girl for taking all of my cock, especially for someone who hasn’t been touched in a while. Just opened up for me so easily.” 

No words could ever spring to your mind in response to that, but it causes your body and mind to have a reaction you’re all too familiar with from about five minutes ago. That tingly feeling starts creeping up inside you the longer Seungmin keeps fucking you. His cock repetitively hits such a deep sweet spot that you don’t think anyone’s ever reached before. 

“S-Seungmin…it feels…fuck it feels so good,” you moan right in his ear, your arms clinging to his back. 

“Yeah?” He chuckles. “I bet it does with the way that you’re clenching around me.” 

Seungmin just keeps finding ways to unintentionally embarrass you, but if there’s one thing that he’s learnt about you and himself, it’s that he likes seeing you so flustered. He thinks it’s cute. In saying that, he doesn’t want to get too caught up in things when the euphoria that has already built itself impossibly high starts making itself known.

Just like you, Seungmin feels too good right now. He’s doused in warmth from the heat wrapping around his cock and the way that your walls keep involuntarily clamping around him. 

“S’too much…” you gasp for air, fingers digging into his clothed arms at this point. “M’gonna cum again please.”

Seungmin presses himself up away from your body but still thrusting at his same pace, “go on then. I want to see your face when you do.” 

It washes over you quickly and he’s fast to clock onto the small reactions beginning to change. The only thing that doesn’t alter is the fucked-out look you have on your face. That remains all the way up until the bliss starts packing its punch. Seungmin’s hips don’t hamper your orgasm, not when he watches your eyes roll back and sees the words to describe how you’re feeling become lodged in your throat. 

“Y-Yes!” you call out, your voice echoing throughout the empty classroom. Your wet walls convulse around Seungmin’s cock, clutching onto him for dear life as you cum hard. 

“I suppose that’s why you cum so easily, huh?” He asks, catching his breath. “Because nobody’s been touching you? Poor thing.” 

Your cheeks burn a bright red as Seungmin continues to fuck you, right up until he’s had his fill. Regardless of how overstimulated you are, he can’t stop because he’s nearly there. His hips stutter forward a few times as he chases the tail of his orgasm, getting hit with it right at the last second. 

“Fuck I’m gonna cum,” he lowers his head, watching where his cock keeps disappearing into and listening to your whimpers. It’s all enough to tip him right over the edge and into a pool of warm euphoria. “Yes – fuck!” 

With a few more grunts and thrusts, Seungmin slows right down as he cums inside you. For a split second there, his vision started to go splotchy. It reminded him of the fact that he hasn’t cum that hard in a while. In saying that, you get to bask in the warm sensation that fills your lower half. 

“Shit,” he gasps, breathing heavily. In the back of his mind, something told him that he shouldn’t have done that. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine,” you swallow, trying to dampen your dry throat. “You’re lucky I’m into that.” 

He lets out a breathy chuckle and for the first time, you’ve actually seen Seungmin genuinely smile. 

-

A/N: I’m not going to lie, I kind of want to make a part 2 to this but reader finds out that she’s pregnant lmao

[thekinghazzastyles]

i take my whiskey neat | eddie munson x black!reader

(anyone can read, no real description)

summary: you're new to hawkins and are invited to a party when someone catches your eye. [2.9k]

warnings: mutual pining, suggestive content (no smut (I tried but I literally cannot lmao)), drinking, smoking, weed, language, no spoilers, no upside down, bold!reader, fem!reader

a/n: this has the possibility of having a part 2 which would most likely be smut but I've never written it and idk if I can lol. if enough people beg for it maybe I can muster something up but I can't promise it will be good. omg and PLS listen to the song, it’s the only thing i listened to while writing lol. - Love , H <3

You had spent most of your time since you’d left your house for this party, smoking a cigarette outside. Being the new girl and going to parties had its ups and downs. As you finished your first cigarette and went to grab your second you were stopped. 

“You’re not gonna have another one of those are you?” You looked up to see a guy with long curly black hair, smiling at you as he walked over to where you were standing. You hadn’t seen him at school during the week and he was not one of the guys that Robin, your “self-appointed tour guide” as she called herself, had mentioned, you definitely would’ve remembered a smile like that. 

“What else do you suggest I smoke?” you asked, challenging him. 

“Well I mean I have other plants, if you’re interested.” He said, shaking his metal lunchbox in your face.

“Oh yeah?” you questioned, smirking at him.

“Yeah,” he smirked back. 

“For how much?”

“For you gorgeous, it’s on the house,” he flirted. 

“Not that I’m complaining, but why?”

“Well for one, you’re new here and I suspect that it’s part of the reason as to why you have yet to head inside.”

“How do you know I’m new?”

“It’s a small town, sweetheart. And I’ve only just started seeing you at school.”

“You go to Hawkins High?”

“Yeah… why?”

“Oh, no reason, I just feel like I would’ve noticed you.”

“You would’ve noticed me?” he asked, a look of surprise on his face as he pointed to himself as he didn’t believe someone who looked like you, would notice him. 

“Uhh, yeah, you’re hot.”

“Yeah?” He smirked, you could feel his confidence oozing off of him as he got closer. So close you could feel his breath on your lips. He smelt like weed, cigarettes, and cheap cologne.

“Yeah,” you responded, getting even closer. He held up the joint and you took it from his hands. You looked down at it as you twirled it between your fingers. “You gonna make me smoke alone?” you asked, looking up at him through your lashes. He didn’t respond but instead he took out a lighter and held it up to the joint. You put it between your lips and inhaled as he held the lighter to the other end. You pulled the joint from your lips and proceeded to blow the smoke out to the side. “You never told me your name,” you said, passing the joint off to him.

He took a deep inhale and held it in for a little before tilting his head up towards the sky and blowing it out. It gave you a better chance to look at him before he brought his eyes back to you, he smirked as he handed you the joint back as he caught you staring at his hands. “It’s Eddie,” he said with a chuckle.

“Y/N.” It didn’t take long before the joint was reduced down to its filter. You took a deep breath before you came to the conclusion that it was time to head inside. “I’ll see you inside?” you asked, making your way up to the door. He looked back at you and nodded. You smiled in return and continued inside. 

You were immediately ambushed by a drunk Robin who insisted that you both take shots. 

“Robin, you are cut off for the night,” a voice said from behind her. He had hair that seemed to be defying gravity and was a lot less drunk than the other attendees. “I can’t make her drink alone, Steve,” Robin responded, slurring her words which made you chuckle. His eyes were brought to you at the sound. His eyebrows raised as if he were asking you who you were.

“Y/N, I’m new, Robin invited me. I hope it’s okay?”

“So you’re the new girl Robin won’t shut up about. “She’s so cool and pretty but she’s not a bitch which is great.”” He spoke as if he were mimicking Robin which earned him a fist to his bicep. “Ow- shit Munson’s here, I’ll be right back,” Steve tried to take the shot from Robin as he walked away but it soon turned into a tug-of-war. You instead turned your head to the door to see who Steve was talking about and the only person who caught your eyes was Eddie.

“Is “Munson” Eddie?” You asked, turning back to the two who seemed to be bickering like siblings.

“Yeah, why?” Steve asked.

“I spoke to him outside,” you said, casually which made Robin also turn her head after she secretly took a shot behind Steve’s back. “What did you guys talk about?” she asked, handing you a shot. You gladly took it from her before responding. “Oh, nothing, he just gave me a free joint and we shared it,” you paused before you spoke again. “He’s kinda hot,” you stated, and then you took your shot.

You turned at the silence and found both Robin and Steve staring at you in shock. Both had their jaws dropped and failed to produce any words. “You think Munson, Eddie Munson,” Steve emphasized, “Is hot?” he finished, in shock. Robin on the other hand, had almost completely fallen to the floor in laughter, and would’ve if it weren’t for Steve grabbing her by the arm and pulling her back up.

“Yeah, and what about it?”

“It’s just-,” he cut himself off. “Is there no one else that could check that box for you?” You took a second to look around, scanning the people in attendance. There was one other guy, but for lack of better words, he looked like a dick. Why wear a shirt to a party if you’re going to leave it open? You pointed to him, not caring if he saw, “I mean, he’s hot too, but he looks like a dick,” you said as you turned back to them. 

“And is,” Robin said, vigorously nodding. 

“And Eddie?” Steve asked, still confused.

“Well he gave me a free joint.”

“Is that all that makes him hot? Because I’m sure you could get free weed from someone else.”

“No that’s not all,” you paused. “He looks like he can fuck.”

“Oh my God, I did not need to hear that,” Steve whispered to himself, shaking his head.

“Oh look who it is,” Robin exclaimed, and before you could find who she was talking about she was calling out to them. “Eddie!” she said as she waved her arm in the air telling him to come over.

Watching Eddie maneuver through the crowd while occasionally stopping to greet some people made him look even hotter. He moved swiftly and calmly. Like he was in his element. Maybe it was all the weed you both smoked, but he looked like he was moving in slow-motion. When he finally got to where the three of you were standing, stopped right next to you with Steve on his other side, he smiled down at you before speaking, “Harrington, Buckley, what can I do for the two of you?”

“Oh nothing,” Robin started. “We just heard that a certain someone thinks you’re-” The rest of her sentence came out muffled, as Steve quickly put his hand over her mouth to stop her. “Thinks I’m what, Robin?” Eddie asked, tilting his head to the side. “Oh,” you started. “She’s talking about how I think you’re hot,” you spoke flatly. Steve and Robin's jaws dropped for the third time that night because of something that had come out of your mouth. This made Eddie turn his head towards you. He looked you up and down before speaking, “Oh I know, sweetheart.” You both held eye contact for seemed like an eternity before turning to Steve and Robin who were silently in shock. 

“Yeah I don’t think I can listen to this anymore,” Steve started. And before he could speak again Robin screamed, “Oh my God I love this song! Y/N we have to go dance!” She handed you a drink and grabbed your other hand to drag you to where everyone else was dancing. 

“So,” Robin started, speaking into your ear. “What was that look between you and Eddie?”

“I don’t know, you tell me,” you shrugged, continuing to dance. Your eyes scanned the crowd till they landed on Eddie who was already looking at you. You held eye contact for a bit till Robin spoke again. 

“Were you serious about what you said before he came over?”

“Oh a hundred percent,” you pause, taking a large gulp of your drink. “That man, looks like he would fuck me like a God.”

Robin was in even more shock than before leading her to also take a large gulp of her drink. “I can tell he’s into you.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. You guys have spoken for what, all of ten minutes and he’s already flirting with you.”

“He doesn’t have like a girlfriend or anything, right?” You asked, simply wanting to make sure you weren’t getting in between anything. That was not something you wanted to do within your first month of being in a new town. 

“Nope,” she spoke, popping the ‘P’. “He has been single for as long as I’ve known him.” This left you to think more about him as your eyes followed him as the night went on. And the drunker you got, the bolder you got. 

***

For the rest of the party, Robin dragged you around introducing you to a few more people along with more shots, and splitting a joint. You found yourselves in Steve’s living room with the rest of the stragglers playing a game. The music had been turned down and the songs had switched to something a little calmer.

It was your turn to pick a card, so you reached to the center of the coffee table and read it aloud, “Pick someone to spit a shot into your mouth or take three shots.” You took a second after looking around at all of the people playing before speaking again, “Can I pick someone who’s not playing?”

“I don’t see why not,” Robin said, turning to you with a smirk as if she knew what you were thinking. 

You got up from your spot on the couch making sure to grab a shot glass and the bottle of whiskey. You walked with confidence over to where Eddie and Steve were sitting, talking amongst themselves. When they realized someone had approached them and they both looked up at you but you kept your eyes on Eddie. “Hey,” you smiled at him, tilting your head to the side a bit. 

“Hey,” he smiled back.

“Can I ask you for a favor?” you asked sweetly.

“Anything, sweetheart,” he turned toward to focus all of his attention on you. 

“You know the game we’re playing?” He nodded. “Well, the card I picked said I have to choose someone to spit a shot into my mouth.”

“And you chose me?” Eddie's eyebrow quirked in surprise, but there was a glint of amusement in his eyes, as if he relished the challenge you presented.

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” He slowly stood up to his full height and for the first time that night, you realized how much taller he is than you. He poured the whiskey into the shot glass and as he raised the glass to his lips, you couldn't tear your gaze away from his full lips. He grabbed your face with both hands, the warmth of his touch searing into your skin allowing you to close your eyes. Your pulse thundered in your ears as you parted your lips, a silent invitation that he eagerly accepted. Time seemed to stand still as you savored the taste of him, the tang of whiskey mingling with the heady rush of desire. It was quiet and you both knew that everyone had their eyes on you, but neither of you cared. 

You licked your lips once he was done and held eye contact with him. Eddie brought a thumb to your chin to wipe away the alcohol that had dripped down your chin in the process and slowly brought it to his lips. You looked up at him through your lashes and smiled, “Thank you.” He stood speechless, not believing someone, and you at that, let him do that in front of people. Before he realized it, you had grabbed the bottle and returned back to your spot on the couch where the original group of people sat in shock. 

“I can’t believe I just watched that,” Robin whispered to herself but loud enough for you to hear. You looked over at Eddie, who was still standing watching you in shock, and winked at him. The both of you kept sneaking glances at one another throughout the rest of the night. 

Earlier, Steve had mentioned to you that you could stay overnight and once Robin heard that; it’s safe to say that you could now consider your situation as being held against your will. As the night went on, the only people left were you, Eddie, Robin, Steve, Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle. You had quietly retired to the back porch to finish off the last of the joint you and Robin forgot about. You hear the door open knowing it wasn’t Robin or Steve, as Robin had finally succumbed to her excessive drinking and Steve was the one helping her out.

Eddie sat down on the chair next to you and sat so he was facing you. You both had yet to speak so you decided to pass the joint off to him. He gladly took it and placed it in between his lips. For the second time that night, your eyes were focused on his lips. Maybe a little too focused as you didn’t hear a word he had just said. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

He chuckled and shook his head before passing the joint back to you. “I said we put on quite a show earlier, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, we did,” you said, laughing, with smoke coming out of your mouth, passing the joint over to him once again. Eddie wanted to make you laugh over and over again if it meant he got to hear that beautiful sound come from your perfect lips. 

“I’m not going to lie though,” he started, taking a puff and releasing it. “I kinda enjoyed it,” he chuckled, bringing his head down and rubbing the back of his neck. Nervously thinking you’d think differently of him because of that. 

You gasped and his head shot up, a look of worry on his face. But then you started smiling which soon turned into laughter. “You are a kinky man Eddie,” you said still laughing, and he laughed with you till silence filled the air between you two. “But I guess that would also make me a kinky woman, because I really enjoyed it,” you said with a straight face with a slight smirk appearing the more you looked at him. Soon, the both of you, once again, broke out into laughter. 

You and Eddie talked all night and by the time you realized it, the sun was rising. Eddie mentioned that the only way you both could get out of helping clean up was if you left within the hour. You felt bad leaving without saying anything so you left a note for Steve and Robin thanking them and saying that your mom wanted you home. You walked to the party so your plan was to walk back when Eddie offered you a ride, and you didn’t have it in you to object. 

***

“Thanks for taking me home, Eddie,” you said to him, as he opened the passenger side door of his van and lent you a hand to assist you. 

“It was my pleasure, sweetheart,” he said smiling, as he closed the door behind you. 

You both walked up to your door in silence, and then proceeded to stare at one another on your front steps before he spoke again. “Do you wanna go on a date? With me? Thursday night? But if you’re busy I totally get that and if you don’t want to I totally get that too,” he was going to continue rambling on if you hadn’t cut him off. 

“I would love to go on a date, with you, on Thursday night, Eddie,” you responded, answering all three of his questions, smiling at him.

“Sweet,” he whispered, smiling at you. “I will see you at school then,” he said as he backed down your stairs.

“Bye Eddie,” you beamed.

“Bye Y/N,” he smiled back. You continued to watch him walk to his car when you realized something. “Oh, Eddie, wait!” He turned around at the sound of your voice only to see you briskly walking towards him. “I forgot something,” and before he could ask what, you pulled him in by his leather jacket for a kiss. It was soft and his reaction was immediate as he pulled you in even closer by your waist. Before the kiss got too intense you pulled away smiling at him as he looked at you in bliss. 

“I’ll see you at school,” you smiled. And suddenly you were inside your house and Eddie was left in your driveway staring at the door in shock and excitement. 

One thing was for sure, Eddie couldn’t wait for Thursday. 

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

I Can’t Leave

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Summary: When the reader is forced into hiding, she’s desperate to inform her fiancé and his son

Warnings: canon level violence, talk of domestic terrorism, some angst, guns

Word Count:  3.2k

Masterlist

“Here you go,” I said, putting a glass of whisky in front of my father. I took my seat across from him, raising my glass. “To the Speaker of the House, part three.”

He smiled, touching his glass to mine before taking  drink. “Thank you, dear. So how’s work?”

“It’s good. I mean, as good as hunting down predators and murderers can be,” I sighed. “But it’s good, I feel like I’m doing some good in the world.” I looked up to find my father’s expression falling. “What?”

“I just- uh… well it’s not that I want you to be unhappy but this next thing would be easier if you hated your job,” he chuckled awkwardly. Confused and nervous I urged him to go on. “Well there are some bad people after us, Y/N.”

“Dad, you don’t need to dumb it down. I’m an FBI agent, I take down bad people all the time. What’s going on?”

“Some extremists are after our family. Y/N, they sent death threats… about you specifically,” he said as gently as possible.

“Okay, so? I mean yeah, it’s strange that they were sent about me in relation to you but they’ve sent them to mom. I get them on my own from people we’ve locked up.”

“They suspect that the extremists are working with some members of Congress in the opposing party. Which can be incredibly dangerous for you.”

“So what? You want my team to investigate? I can hang back on this one if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Well I’m glad you’re willing to hang back because… you need to go into hiding.”

I only stared at him, not believing what he was asking. “Did you seriously just ask me to go into hiding?”

“Y/N-”

“No, absolutely not,” I refused. “Dad, I’m an FBI agent. If anyone can protect themselves it’s me.”

“This is serious. I’ve talked to people in Homeland Security, people way above you and your team and they recommended you go into hiding.”

“What about you?” I was visibly upset now. “Are you hiding?”

“I can’t. The houses are already divided and each party is getting more radical. I can’t just leave, especially when I was just reelected.”

“So what makes you think I can just leave? Why can’t I just have body guards?”

“Because your job won’t allow that. I know you’ll run away from them with no regard for your own safety the second a — what is it you call them? Unsub? — when an unsub runs away. Besides, they said you won’t be safe unless everyone thinks you’re dead.”

“Excuse me?” I was angry now. “What could possibly be going on that Homeland Security thinks I need to be dead? Oh my god,” I said suddenly, realizing what my father was asking. “Can I at least tell my team that this is fake?”

He shook his head regretfully. “I’m sorry. Homeland Security wants as few people to know as possible.”

“Can I at least tell Aaron and Jack?” Tears were pricking my eyes now as he shook his head no. “Dad, he’s my fiancé,” I was begging now. “He has a son. Jack is basically my son. He already lost his mother to a bad guy. I can’t leave them. He can’t lose two mother figures.”

“That’s exactly why you need to be protected. So you can be a mother to him again.”

“Can’t you see this will do irreparable damage? Aaron won’t let me back into his life after I knowingly hurt him and his son in a way they’ve already been hurt. You want me to go into hiding? Fine but please let me tell Aaron.”

“I’m sorry dear, my hands are tied. Your death is already being orchestrated now. Your car will be crashed in about 10 minutes.”

My eyes widened as rage filled me. “I don’t even get to see anyone one last time?” I covered my face in frustration. I needed to calm down if I was going to think of a way to communicate with Aaron. “Fine but just let me do one last thing.”

My father nodded eagerly. “I’ll try my best to fulfill that.”

“Part of the reason I came over was to get my old Hot Wheels. I was going to bring them back for Jack. Can they say they were found in the trunk and you said to take them to Jack because I was delivering them?”

He thought for a moment. “I don’t see why not. I’ll ask the agents posing as officers to bring them.”

“Thank you,” I breathed. “I just didn’t want to leave Jack with nothing, you know? I’ll grab them,” I said, heading into my old room. Immediately grabbing a post-it note and a pen.

I’m alive. Tell no one. Love you - Y/N

I folded it up as tight as possible and stuffed it inside the door of a ‘65 Mustang I had once broken the door off of when I was a kid. I then replaced the broken door, which only fell off when you rolled it around, before tossing it into the box with the others.

~~

Aaron had been cooking lunch on one of his few days off, excited for Y/N to return home so they could have some alone time when he heard a knock on the door. Cautiously he grabbed his gun before creeping towards the door silently. Checking the peep hole he spotted two cops. Frowning, he put his gun down behind the door before opening it. Before he could say anything the officer spoke. “Aaron Hotchner?”

“Yes?” he answered hesitantly.

“We’re very sorry to inform you but your fiancée, Y/N L/N, has passed.” Every ounce of hurt Aaron had ever felt hit him all at once. All the shots, stabs, and the countless punches Aaron had ever felt. This hurt more than Haley, which at the time he had thought would be the worst pain of his life. He didn’t even hear what the cops were saying until they mentioned his son. “We found these. We spoke to Y/N’s father and he said she was bringing them back here to Jack.”

Aaron stared down at the box that was filled near to the brim with Hot Wheels. The same toys that Jack and her had been so excited to play with together. He took the box before quietly shutting the door, wanting to be alone. Setting the box on the kitchen counter he leaned up against it, letting his agony consume him. He couldn’t even make tears fall as empty sobs wracked his body. Aaron was consumed with anger, hurt, sadness, any and every emotion associated with grief. But most of all he was trying to figure out what to say to his son. How could he tell Jack that yet another mother figure was taken from him?

Unable to handle anything he texted his sister-in-law that he had to go into work and asked her to take Jack for the night.

Aaron completely lost the rest of the day. He felt like he was in some sort of haze. He only “woke up” when he started going through Y/N’s Hot Wheels collection, desperate to hold onto her. When he stumbled upon the ‘65 Mustang he was consumed with memories. The first time he had met her parents she had showed him her old room including this exact car. She told him that she used to pass secret messages with her friends in this car. Curiously he fiddled with the door until it popped out. Peering inside he was surprised to see a note stuffed into it. Anxious about what he’d find he pulled out that note that had been very tightly folded.

Without even reading it yet Aaron already felt emotion consume him at the sight of her handwriting. Pushing through he read the note.

I’m alive. Tell no one. Love you - Y/N

He read and reread the short note trying to convince the whisper in his mind that it was in fact for him and Jack. Y/N’s father’s reelection had caused some sense of insurrection in radical groups and he had heard rumors of death threats against her family but they had received death threats in the past. They must have gotten worse and more targeted for Homeland Security to force her into hiding. He also knew she’d never fake her death without telling him and Jack and judging by the nature of the note being smuggled in she hadn’t known about the plan.

While he was relieved to know she was alive but afraid for her safety. If a threat was bad enough to force her underground it must be serious. And he still had to deal with the worst part of it… telling the team and explaining the situation to Jack.

He texted his sister-in-law again that their jet was delayed so he could take Jack for the night and bring him to school tomorrow. Just 15 minutes later Jack was back in his home.

After his son got settled in, Aaron went into his room. “Dad, where’s Y/N?”

Aaron hesitated for a second. “Um yeah, about that…” he had no clue how his young son would handle the news. Especially after Haley had already been killed. “Well first of all, Y/N is okay. She’s safe with a bunch of people to protect her but she’s going to be gone for a little while. Some people are angry at her father and well… they’re threatening to hurt her so some very powerful people think it’s best that she hide for a little while until she’s safe.”

“Is it like the people who hurt mom?” Jack asked with innocent eyes.

That hit Aaron like a bullet. He wasn’t quite sure how to handle it. “Sort of. They want to hurt her family but this is about something bigger than her family or our family.” He didn’t really think it’d be a great idea for him to explain the intricacies of domestic terrorism to his son right before bed. “But you can’t tell anyone about this, understood? We weren’t even supposed to know she’s alive. Not the team, not your aunt, not your teacher, not your friends. It could be really dangerous for Y/N.”

Jack nodded. “Okay dad. When will Y/N come back? In time for the wedding?”

Aaron also didn’t need the reminder that your wedding was supposed to be in two months. “I don’t know but I hope so buddy. I hope so…”

The next day at work Aaron was trying to work up the nerve to speak to everyone about Y/N’s death. There was a case about some women who looked like her and he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe this was connected but he knew he wouldn’t be able to share his theories with anyone.

As everyone filtered in they were all wondering about Y/N. “Hey, Hotch, where’s Y/N?” Morgan asked.

Aaron sighed heavily. “About that… I learned yesterday that um…” this was difficult to say even though he knew it was a lie, “Y/N was killed in a car crash yesterday. I thought this news needed to be said in person rather than over the phone.”

The room was left in shocked silence for a moment until Derek spoke. “Hotch I’m so sorry.” Everyone was keenly aware that this would be the second woman their Unit Chief loved that died.

“It’s not just my loss. It’s all our losses,” he deflected, the always altruist boss.

“How’s Jack handling it?” JJ asked.

“He’s not ready to talk about it so I’m giving him some time. I can’t imagine it’s easy losing another mother figure.”

“How are you handling it?” Rossi asked.

That was a question he didn’t know how to answer. Truthfully he wasn’t okay even though he knew his fiancée was alive because he knew dangerous people were after her. “I can’t really afford to think about it right now. Wheels up in 15, we’ll debrief on the plane.”

~

1 Year Later

Even though his fiancée was still alive he was still reeling from her loss. It was hard having absolutely no contact and no updates about the status of her or her case.

He was filling out case reports when he heard a knock at his door. “Come in,” muttered not looking up. After not hearing anything in response he looked up to find Y/N’s father, the Head of the Secret Service, Mark Sullivan, and the Secretary of Homeland Security, Tom Ridge. “Sirs, how can I help you.”

“This is about my daughter,” the Congressman began. “She’s alive.” Aaron wasn’t sure if he should reveal that he knew that or not.

“You already knew,” the Sullivan observed.

“Yes, I did. Y/N sent me a note,” he admitted.

“Has she had any contact with you since?” Ridge asked.

“She hasn’t. What’s happened?” he knew they wouldn’t come to him at work unless they needed profilers.

“It’s been a year since Y/N went underground. She’s been bouncing around various countries and they’ve somehow managed to follow her without us making any headway on the investigation. And we’d like the BAU to help us track these terrorists down.”

“I’ll have my team on it. Where are we going?”

“Brazil.”

~

In less than an hour the entire team was on the plane with Garcia calling in. “Why are we headed to Brazil? We don’t have jurisdiction there,” Reid asked.

“There’s a very high profile victim being hunted by a small domestic terrorist organization. The Brazilian government wants them out and they’ve given us full jurisdiction over any US citizens there as well as the ability to question any Brazilian citizens as long as they’re arrested by Brazilian officers or agents.”

“So who’s the vic?” Emily asked.

“It’s Y/N,” Aaron admitted. It felt like he had just released a breath he had been holding for a year. “She didn’t actually die in a car crash, she had been in hiding.”

The plane erupted into angry yells and confused conversations. “Hotch how could you not tell us?” Derek asked angrily.

“I know you’re all confused and angry, so was I. I wasn’t even supposed to know, Y/N had to smuggle me a note. As far as I know she never knew she was being forced into hiding until it was too late for her to say goodbye.”

“Still you should’ve told us,” Derek seethed angrily. He felt lied to by his boss and one of his closest friends. Both of which were always supposed to have his back.

“Enough, Derek,” Aaron said sternly, silencing the plane. “If you want to be angry be angry at the terrorists threatening her but I was just trying to protect her and she was trying to protect Jack and I. Like it or not this is bigger than you and I will remove you from this case if you can’t keep your emotions in check. Got it?” Derek begrudgingly agreed and soon enough the team was discussing theories.

~

It took a week full of interviews, analysis, dead ends, hundreds of suspects, and more fake names than they could count but the BAU finally tracked down the terrorist organization that sent one of their agents running. And along with with their investigation they had found where their teammate was hiding. Every member of the BAU wanted to rush over but they couldn’t afford to send the terrorists underground again so they waited for them to make a move.

As soon as the BAU got word that terrorists were moving in on Y/N’s location they headed over. Aaron’s heart was beating out of his chest the entire ride over. Terrified that they wouldn’t reach his fiancée in time.

They pulled up to the small cottage just as Aaron spotted some men dressed in camouflage creeping around the house. Aaron barely put the car in park, too anxious to get to his love. “FBI! Put down your weapons and step away from the house,” he ordered as the rest of the team and several other soldiers stormed out of the cars.

Seeing as they were outnumbered several of the terrorists put their guns down and raised their hands in surrender. The same couldn’t be said for the mercenaries at the back of the cottage as he heard a window shatter and several yells from inside. Immediately going for the door he had to knock it down, stumbling inside to find a stand-off. Y/N was stood half shielded by two guards with her gun raised at a few terrorists. The guards he recognized as Secret Service also had their guns raised and they were yelling.

“It’s over,” Aaron announced as soldiers appeared into the window, drastically outnumbering the two men who had their guns aimed at Y/N. One took a shot and he was instantly put down by at least five bullets aimed at him. The partner seemed to have been accidentally been hit because he went down with a yell. But Aaron didn’t care about him, he was concerned about Y/N. He looked over, finding her tending to one of her guards who had suffered a bullet to the arm. Her hands were covered in blood and Aaron wasn’t thinking rationally as he reached her. “Are you okay?” he asked, gently grasping her shoulders.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “Can you call an ambulance?”

“Sure,” he agreed hurriedly. “This is Agent Hotchner, we have two suspects down and a wounded agent. Send medical assistance immediately.” By now the other guard and some soldiers who had medical training were attending to the wounded agent and pushing Y/N away. “Y/N,” he called, dragging her attention away from the guard.

She looked at him, really looked at him for the first time in a year. “Aaron,” she began to cry, throwing herself at him. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for leaving,” she sobbed against his bulletproof vest.

“Hey, no, it’s okay,” he hushed, squeezing her tightly and stoking his fingers through her hair. “I know you didn’t want this. Thank you for sending that note to Jack and I.”

“I couldn’t bear the thought of either of you losing someone again,” she explained. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

Masterlist

[muldermuse]

Plus One (Fox Mulder X Reader)

This is based on an ask I recieved <333 thank u for sending it through

Scully is unable to attend an event so Fox asks you to be his plus one.

“It means a lot that you’re coming tonight, I’ll uh- I’ll pick you up at your apartment at 6? Have a chat about the mission in the car and then go from there…I’m looking forward to seeing you…Scully said your dress looks good and you know that she knows more about that stuff than me *laughs*. Um, okay well this is a long voicemail so uh-right, I’ll see you in a few hours. Oh! This is Fox by the way.”

It definitely was not your usual practice to have a glass of red wine before getting ready for a mission but you had to admit that you felt nervous about tonight.  It was standard for Mulder and Scully to do something like this. To get intel about a case, they’d dress up and rub shoulders with people unknowingly involved in an X File. Sometimes they’d pose as a couple and other times they would pose as two singles trying to seek out a partner for the evening. They would collect as much intel as possible and within the following weeks; the case would undoubtedly be solved.

This was a huge case so Scully was in another state, sleeping in her car to avoid the bed bug-ridden motel that Skinner had put her up in. Fox was too nervous to ask you so you got a call from Scully late last night. The key contact Fox had been trying to speak to about this case was attending a Gala in Washington. The contact was old school, any guest to the Gala had to have a date for the evening, and of course; it was a black tie event. You were reluctant and Scully knew you would be. “Listen, if you want to fly out and take my place in this crappy rental car, which stinks of fries for some reason- I would thank you for it. But, you’ll have a great time and I know you have that black dress that you’re looking for an excuse to wear…”.

So here you are, pouring a large glass of red wine and listening to the Spice Girls as you try to focus all your nervous energy into applying your make up and curling your hair. You slip your dress on at quarter to 5. The dress was expensive and it looks it. It’s black and shimmering under the fairy lights strung over your bookshelf. It’s hugging your curves, it’s hiding any insecurities and you have to admit- you look amazing. The remaining wine in the glass slides down your throat and gives a final rush of adrenaline. Fox knocks at the door at exactly 6 o’clock.

***

He's wearing his glasses. That’s the first thing that you recognize. Not the bouquet of flowers tightly clutched in his fist, not the perfectly tailored suit or the nervous expression covering his face.

“You’re wearing glasses, I’ve never seen you wear them outside of the office.” You smile at him and he smiles back but he seems distracted. He doesn’t reply for a few seconds and as the awkward energy fills the air; he thrusts the flowers towards your hands.

“Yeah, I think they make me look smarter” He awkwardly laughs. “These are for you...obviously…you usually have peonies at your desk on special occasions so I thought you’d like them.”

“They’re beautiful, I didn’t realise that you noticed stuff like that. Maybe you’re a better agent than I suspected Fox” you wink as you go back into your apartment and place the flowers in the sink with some water. You take the moment with the faucet running to compose yourself.

God.

He looks so fucking good.

The nerves that have slowly dissipated over the past hour are suddenly back without warning. He looks so good- do you look alright? Oh god, are you not dressed up enough? Does he think you look okay? I bet he wishes that Scully was here right now, you could potentially jeopardise this entire case and you know how hard they’re both working on it.

You’re too lost in your own thoughts to hear Fox cross the room and place a warm hand against your lower back. The tension zapping through your body streams out with a deep exhale.

“I have a car waiting downstairs, we should probably go”. He holds his arm out for you with a grin and he guides you downstairs. He holds the car door open for you. Whilst you have a moment alone; you whisper to yourself an affirmation that tonight will go well.

You have no idea that Fox is doing the same thing.

***

Fox has liked you for a while and he suspects that this occasion is all Scully’s doing. There was no real reason for her to travel to Wyoming, it was some anonymous call which Fox completely doubts the validity of.  When it comes to the X Files and his career, Fox is a ‘do-er.’ He wants to get out there, prove the importance of his work and save lives.

However, when it comes to his relationships. At the minute, Fox is less active.

The moment he saw you smiling; you had never been far from his thoughts. Scully struck up a friendship with you through a mutual love of the same sandwich served a local deli. Fox would sit in on your lunch dates together, he’d always try and make you laugh- feeling an immense sense of pride when he did.

Scully had disclosed to him her feelings on your boyfriend, Jason. You had so much love to give and he seemed to be the opposite. Closed off and cold. Scully told Fox you’d been arguing more and were getting close to breaking up. When you did, Fox watched from afar as your usual bright smile never reached your eyes.

***

The car ride is filled with idle chat. The tension in the air seems to mount as you both try desperately to ignore it. Fox tells you about the Gala and what to expect. It’s more of an occasion to scope out the group rather than to gather intel on a specific target.

You don’t realise that as the car drives closer to your destination that your knee begins to bounce and your fingers fidget with the tassle on your handbag. Fox rests his hand on your knee and his thumb rubs calming small circles on your soft skin.

“You look amazing, thanks again for doing this.”

Before you can thank him or compliment him back, the car pulls to a stop and the door opens.

***

The room is grand and glamourous. It’s a decadent affair with rich red velvet curtains and carpets decorating each room. The different perfumes and aftershaves blend together to create a sweet floral scent that lingers as every person passes. It’s a crowd of black tuxedos and billowing ballgowns, everyone smiling politely with a clear hint of judgement to every passerby. The sound of the band is lost over the exchanging of pleasantries and the distinctive pop of champagne corks, followed by a polite cheer.

It's completely unlike anywhere else you have ever been or anywhere you are likely to ever go.

“I think I’m the poorest person in here by about three million dollars, Fox”

“Oh no, it’ll be way more than that,” Fox says with a wink as he hands you a glass of champagne. He moves in close enough to whisper to you and you try to ignore the sensation of his breath fanning your neck.

“See that guy over there with the red suit, he has a huge interest in extraterrestrials. It’s massive so much so that he spends around five and a half million dollars a year trying to prove they’re real. He’s got that much money it’s basically a game.”

The bubbles of champagne trickle down your throat as you move closer into Fox’s hold. He holds your waist and rotates you to look at another corner of the room. His breath remains hot on your neck and you’re not sure if it’s the alcohol coursing through your veins or his presence that is making your head feel fuzzy.

“That lady over there with the huge hat, like, ridiculously big hat.” You nod at Fox without taking your eyes off her. “The Lone Gunman guys suspect that she gets all her money from selling UFOs that crash, on the black market. She only leaves her guarded house three times a year and this is one of the occasions.”

“Suspect? So it could be something completely different.” You smirk up at Fox, he grabs another two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and hands one to you. “Who knows, maybe she makes her money selling really big hats.”

“Or maybe, the reason her hat is so big is because it’s broadcasting a message to a UFO flying over Washington”. His grin matches yours.

You clink the glasses together and without the other knowing, both of you acknowledge the butterflies fluttering in your stomachs.

***

Neither of you speak to anyone else, you find a quiet corner tucked away in the hall room and chat. You sip on a glass of wine and Fox holds a tumbler of whiskey but both drinks go warm as you get lose in the conversation with each other.

It dawns on you that before tonight, you’ve never really spoken to Fox as it’s usually a group environment or a passing hi-goodbye as you both make your way home at the end of the day.

He tells you about his family, he tells you about his favourite cases and more importantly than all of the things he’s saying to you- he’s present with you the entire time. Conversations with your ex were one sided and that was something that took months to admit. You realized your relationship with Jason was over during a conversation. You’d just got the promotion that you’d spent months working on and he asked one simple question that felt like a knife to your pumping heart.

“When were you going to tell me about that promotion?”

You had told him; of course you had. You’d told him when you first heard about it, you’d told him the planning you’d spent weeks organizing and you told him the morning of the interview.

He hadn’t heard any of it.

You’d been together over a year. You had met each other’s family, met each other’s friends, you’d fallen in love and within that conversation; you realized how far from love you both had fallen.

The big band music was gradually playing louder and louder. You’d both been straining to shout over it to keep the conversation going. Eventually, you realized a way you would be able to hear Fox better, you grabbed his hand and pulled him onto the dance floor.

***

The music was soft, flowing through the air as the lights began to dim slowly and the illuminated table decorations filled in the dark spaces. You placed your arms around Fox’s shoulders as his large hands slid down to your waist. Your heart was beating the steadiest that it had all night.

“How did you know about the peonies? I’ve never told you or Scully about that.” Your hands remained interlocked around his neck as you fought the urge to run your fingers through his hair.

“Well, I know your birthday and you had peonies on that date. When you got that promotion, you had peonies, and when uh…yeah, you have peonies.” A nervous look flashes across his face. You know what he was going to say.

“When I broke up with Jason, someone in the office got me peonies and left them on my desk. It was the only thing that made me smile that week”. The memory still makes you emotional, the week was relentless sleepless nights and non-stop crying. On the last day of the week, there was a gorgeous bunch of peonies in a vase on your desk. No note, no name- nothing.

His hands tighten around your waist as he rests his forehead against yours, “I’m glad you liked them…it was hard to see you look so sad”.

Of course it was him.

It always was.

It always is.

Before you can carry on speaking or stop the tears trying to fill your eyes. He tilts your chin to meet your eyeline with his thumb and forefinger.

“I don’t think I’ve told you how beautiful you look tonight or thanked you for this…I mean thanked you properly."

You place your head against his chest and wrap your arms around his waist, continuing to sway to the music; you hear him take a breath before carrying on.

"I've liked you for a while and god, does that sound childish to say. This means a lot to me and you being here means even more. I'd like to take you out, I can't always promise it will be this fancy...actually, I can guarantee it never will be but I want to spend time with you. In any setting, I possibly can."

He doesn't look at you and you don't look at him. It felt like a confession he needed to make but perhaps didn't have the confidence to say it to your face. Which is amazing to you because Fox Mulder doesn't strike you as someone who struggles with anxieties.

"I think this place is a bit too fancy for me, maybe we can chat more at the 24 hour diner near my apartment? I think we'll look a bit different from the usual patrons" You gesture at your black gown and his tuxedo. He smiles as he takes your hand and leads you to the exit.

Before you get back into the car, you press a kiss to his lips and thank him for the evening. For the entire journey to the diner; you hold each other's hands tightly.

[jthealien]

To key or not to key, that is the question. (Aka I wanted to put my two cents into the “Buddy is a key” theory since Book of Deacon had more people talking about it, for good reason.)

So what do I think? Uh. Well. It’s complicated. I’ll try to keep this organized, but man do I love tangents.

TLDR: Buddy’s not a key, not not a key, but a secret third thing.

First off, Book of Deacon established some pretty major things, specifically that keys can go into books and what keys look like inside of books. I’ll focus on the latter for a bit.

While much more human looking, Silver still retains a lot of her key (ha.) features: partially gray skin, gem eyes, a general sparkliness.

She’s so shiny :D

I’m going to make an assumption that most of those traits (especially the first two) apply to the other keys’ human forms.

And Buddy? Well he doesn’t have any of those. There’s absolutely zero color on that guy that isn’t #FFFFFF, and while his eyes do kind of stare into your soul — they also look like normal human ones.

But we do know that keys can make minor appearance changes to their users. Considering skin modifications like tattoos are possible, who’s to say any key-like features could just be covered up? It hasn’t been stated otherwise, so that can’t be discounted as an option.

But, in Dreams by Night (it’s not one of my rants without me bringing up that episode) we get our first — and to date, only — actual glimpse of Buddy that isn’t in a book or dream.

From what we see of his ear, it doesn’t look very key like. Silver’s ear had some of her key skin tone, so if Buddy was a key, his ear would be a different color as well. It isn’t, though.

But, hypothetically: if Buddy was a key, what key would he be?

I’m almost certain the answer is Violet.

I’ve pointed this out before, but they look really similar. Like, down to the eye color, eye shape, and weird little smirk.

It’s likely not a coincidence. I can’t really think of a reason why Violet would make any other key look like a more masculine version of herself — or if that’s even possible for her to do.

So yeah, he’d be Violet. (I’ll get into the implications of that later because oh boy.)

If that's the case though, can keys put themselves into books? I mean, maybe?? But I feel like that wouldn’t work. Another reason why I don’t really believe that Buddy is a key.

But I can’t ignore that there’s definitely details that’d be explained by it.

That thing around Buddy’s neck in his dream? Other people have pointed out that it kinda looks like a keyring. And yeah, it really does. I’m not quite sure what else it’d be.

How does Buddy know every detail of every story Chase goes into? Keys have that ability.

Why doesn’t Buddy like water? Well, metals can rust.

There’s another thing I can’t bring up because the episode is in fastpass jail as I’m writing this. But it deals with keys not enjoying being stuck as keys with the keyring. (Other fastpassers know what I’m referring to, I think).

All that being said, I’m going to go over some possibilities. Kind of in order from how little to how much I believe them

1. Buddy is a key, but not Violet

It’s not impossible, but I’ve already mentioned the reasons I’m convinced that if he were a key, he’d be Violet. So I’m going to write this one off for now.

Well uh, I would if it weren’t for Chekov’s Gun (or I guess Chekov’s Keyple, in this case).

Why would Punko use a whole episode to establish that keys can use other keys for books, if that wasn’t going to come up again in some way? I suspect that payoff is going to happen this season. Otherwise, it’d make more sense to introduce this detail later.

Unless the focus isn’t meant to be on that ability of the keys, but rather what the keys look like. In a way this might be meant to prove Buddy couldn’t be a key.

But, for the most part, I believe this option the least.

2. Buddy is a key, and Buddy is Violet

I don’t really think this one is true, but it might be my favorite just for the pure symbolism and potential. I might make an AU about it tbh.

Them being one in the same would be the simplest(?) explanation as to why they look so similar.

It’d also mean, technically, Buddy/Violet is in some way trans. Besides me just thinking that’d be neat (source: I’m trans), it’d also have some fascinating story implications.

Like, Buddy has some pretty heavy identity issues, what with him thinking he has to fit the role of the villain, because he doesn't know how to act outside of that. Chase then shows him he can be more than the expectations placed on him by others. Buddy being transmasc would defensively fit into this too.

It also fits with the story’s themes of breaking conventions. We already see that with Chase and Buddy’s having two keys of the four keys that are gendered — and also the only two specifically stated to be for a female role. What else would be a bigger upheaval of conventions, though, than for the personification of the villainess role to actually be a man?

There could definitely be something there too, of Buddy feeling trapped in the wrong body by resenting being a key.

Do I think the story will go down this route? Eh, probably not. But it’s fun to think about! (I think that’s how I’d describe the whole “Buddy is a key theory” in general).

In terms of evidence against this, barring what I’ve already talked about, there’s one thing. However it's in a fastpass episode, and I’m hesitant to say anything about it because I’d feel really really bad for spoiling anything. It's not that major, but I’m going to be on the safe side. Just take my word that it’s pretty solid proof Buddy and Violet are not the same person. (It’s from that scene in ep. 53, if anybody wanted to know.)

Side Note: This section might be the best place to add this, but the name Violet comes from the Latin ‘Viola’. The most well known use of this name is the main character in Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night. She spends the majority of the play disguised as a man to work for a duke and ends up falling in love with him. Not trying to say this is how it’ll work in Cinderella Boy, but I just think it’s interesting.

Anyway, the next and last option.

3. Buddy is not a key, Buddy is not Violet, but is related to her in some other way

Somehow the theory I believe the most in is the one I’m the least sure how to explain, lmao.

Based on everything I’ve said, I’m pretty sure Buddy is a human. At least from a narrative standpoint it’d make the most sense, because Chase dating one of the keys just seems kind of… weird? (But maybe liking keys runs in the Hollow family, who knows.)

If Buddy was a key, then the other keys would be his family. He really just doesn’t talk about them like that, though. In Rules of Engagement II, he calls Silver “it” and “your key”, and I just don’t think the keys would do that to each other.

So, my other explanation as to why Buddy and Violet look similar is that Buddy is partially a key. How? Why? Great questions because I also don’t know. The closest answers I have are almost purely speculation.

Maybe Violet is Buddy’s mom?? Walk with me here.

By mom I mean like, some kind of magic was used to either create a human version of Violet or infuse some of her powers into a human.

It would account for their positive relationship, considering she’s willing to make Buddy pretty outfits. It’d also explain why Buddy has a lot of attributes of a key (omniscient knowledge of a book, needing to see the story to completion, etc), and make all the key symbolism around him more metaphorical.

Unless she is literally his mom. (Don’t ask me how that’d work because again I don’t know.) In All That Glitters III he hesitates before he says his key did his hair.

Assuming that Violet actually was involved and he didn’t do his hair himself, what was he going to call her? Mom? Sister? Second cousin once removed? Friend? Maybe after his and Chase’s little talk at the end of Beach Boys he realized “oh yeah Violet would be a familial figure/friend.” I’m not sure, but I thought I’d bring it up.

As for the ‘why’ — perhaps Ex Libris wanted someone who is like a key but can also gather Narratonin. Yknow, for efficiency or something.

It’d tie back into Buddy’s identity issues, too. Because yeah I’d also be pretty messed up if I was created for a specific purpose that my entire worth hinges upon. I’d also be really pissed if Some Guy chose to just waltz into the stories, chose to deviate from the plots, chose to gather Narratonin — when I’ve never had those choices.

Case in point, I think this option is the most likely because I really don’t believe Buddy is a key. But I also don’t believe Buddy is completely unrelated to Violet.

[what-bot]

I just had the world’s WORST idea

The “Do the butts match” situation but with the Renegade

I think what would happen is Hopper or someone would do it as a joke, not realising they accidentally guessed correctly. Also people are now digging through old images of Tron to figure out if he matches with the Renegade (he doesn’t)

When Tron finds out about this he does the absolute longest sigh and adds some ‘improvements’ to Beck’s disguise so his cover’s not blown

Edit: I’ve made a fic

It started with a NetWeb post.

‘That loser can’t hide the truth! The butts match! The facts don’t lie!’

Someone had posted two images on the public forum. One was of Beck chatting to a group of programs in the Argon garage. The other was the Renegade turning into a poorly-lit alleyway.

Both were taken from behind, with red outlining the butts in question.

Now, given most people on the Grid wore form-fitting suits, this was actually a problem. Especially given who was now reading the post.

“Why are you showing me this drivel?” Tesler grumbled.

“I think they’re accusing this program of being the Renegade. Funny way of doing it, though,” Pavel sneered.

“We can’t identify the civilian from the photo, but we do know the garage it was taken at. I suppose we should investigate.”

Tesler grumbled and fumed.

“We are not doing…butt checks. This is ridiculous.”

Paige looked closer at the image.

“Him? No, I know that program. He’s harmless! Soft. He can’t possibly be the Renegade.”

“Nobody’s harmless! Seize him!!!” Pavel screeched.

“Pavel, I am not in the mood. I don’t want to hear another word about this tripe, is that clear? Drop it,” Tesler snarled.

Pavel deflated sullenly, and stalked off.

“Yes, sir.”

*****

Zed caught Beck at the lockers.

“Dude, have you seen that thing that’s been going around? Someone totally thinks you’re the Renegade. I mean, it could never be true, right? You’re not THAT dumb.”

“Gee, thanks. Wait, what? Who thinks I’m the what?”

Beck tried to sound casual.

Zed pulled it up on his datapad.

“There’s this post that’s been going around, comparing you and the Renegade. Honestly, I don’t see it.”

Beck stared silently for a couple seconds. Just react normally. As much as such a thing was possible.

“Okay, I was not expecting that. That’s super weird.”

“This is gonna get so stupid. Now everyone’s trying to get photos of Renegade butt. And for what? No offense, but there’s no way you’re the Renegade. I mean, that’d just be ridiculous.”

“Yeah, that’s crazy…”

*****

On the drive to the mountain, Beck fretted about how he was going to raise this with Tron.

He needn’t have bothered.

Instead of spying on Argon like he normally was, Tron was waiting for him at the door.

“Oh, hi.”

Tron motioned at the screen behind him.

There they were. The two shots of Beck’s ass plastered on the screen.

On spotting them, Beck flinched away, and rethought his whole runtime leading up to this point.

“Care to explain?”

“I…have no idea where this came from.”

It was true. Why was he embarrassed? It wasn’t like he did this to himself.

“Someone called Hopper posted it.”

Beck groaned.

“Not that guy! He’s had it out for me since he first joined the garage.”

“He must suspect something.”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure he was just putting me on blast because we got in a fight the other day. Probably has no idea how right he is.”

Tron headed over to the screen and began going through the comments. New ones were coming in every second.

“This could pose a problem.”

“Because they match?”

“I was going to say it’s drawing attention to you.

If you’re standing still in public long enough for people to examine your butt, you’re going to get sniped.”

“They got photos, though!”

“Nobody is looking at the Renegade’s butt.”

“Paige might be,” he mumbled.

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Not if it gets me killed! Can you get rid of it?”

“Sadly, no. I can track who’s opened it.”

He wormed his way into some background admin view that showed hundreds of program IDs. Annoyingly, they didn’t have names next to them. Tron seemed to be gleaning something from it, but he didn’t explain what.

“Oh, good.”

“What about this could possibly be good?!”

“Tesler has blocked Bartik.”

Beck smirked thinking about the grouchy despot being confronted with this. He probably insisted he never see it again.

“Pavel and Paige have saved the post.”

“Damn. Wait, Paige saved it? Did she comment anything?”

“Even if she did, no good would come of it.”

“Come on, let’s find out. I’m living on crumbs here.”

“Ok, fine.”

Tron went back to scrolling comments. The butts loomed ominously above the feed.

Beck steadfastly refused to perceive them.

Suddenly Tron stopped.

Beck craned his neck to see.

It was not Paige. It was some random from Purgos asking ‘Anyone got any shots of Tron from behind?’

Tron let out the most tired sigh.

“You cannot be serious.”

Beck snickered. Not so calm about this now, was he? “It says here ‘for scientific purposes only.’”

“That’s a lie.”

Below was an image of Tron striding down the street, turning towards a gathered crowd.

Further comments read:

‘Doesn’t seem to match the Renegade.’

‘He’s turning, we can’t be sure.’

“Oh, no, there’s another one.”

‘Snagged this gem in 1986.’

This one was of Tron and a couple other security programs standing in formation, ready for battle. Tron had his disc in one hand, baton in the other, and was packing some serious voxels in the back.

Tron apparently knew the poster, because he exclaimed “Seamus… why? In the middle of a bug attack? What is wrong with you?”

The comments seemed to agree.

‘Isn’t that a gridbug wave in front of them? Why weren’t you running?’

Seamus’ reply: ‘Just look at it’

‘Not a bad sight to die to.’

‘Leave him alone, he’s dead’

Beck’s eyes stopped on one of the replies that mentioned him.

‘No way the Renegade is Tron. He’s got a pancake butt.’

“Hey! I don’t have a pancake butt! Do I?”

“Why would I know?!”

Beck did a quick spin near one of the many reflective surfaces in the lair.

He’d bulked up a bit since becoming the Renegade. Objectively not a pancake butt. However, it didn’t measure up to Tron in that photo.

‘@RenegadeProgram what happened? Why the shrinkage?’

‘Maybe he lost it in the war’

“I nearly die for these people how many times, and this is what they choose to discuss about me!” Tron grumbled.

It didn’t bode well. Already they had differences in their build, but Hopper had apparently hit on something notable, completely by accident.

Very notable. It had to be the angle. Surely it didn’t look that way in real life. Did it?

Beck couldn’t believe he was doing this.

He took a couple steps behind Tron and sneakily glanced down.

“Oh, wow.”

Okay, not a good thing to say at that moment. But it was admittedly impressive in person.

It was big. And round. And Beck definitely did not measure up to that.

“Well, uh, they definitely don’t match.”

“Are you done?” Tron snapped.

“Yeah?”

Tron began to storm off, realised that wouldn’t help, and turned to face Beck.

“It had to be done,” Beck defended. “For the cause.

Look, it’s only weird if you make it weird. But in other news, we’re screwed.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“It is that bad! They’re gonna figure out I’m not you!”

Beck turned around. “Look!”

“No!”

“I looked at yours! It’s already weird! Might as well commit!”

Tron went quiet for a bit.

“…ok, they might.

If it makes you feel better, I will tweak the disguise.”

“Would that help, or make things worse?”

“I don’t know. It’s your ass on the line.”

*****

Beck decided not to go with the ‘enhancement’. His ass suddenly doubling in size would probably raise more questions than answers.

He just went on as normal, and hoped it wouldn’t cause trouble.

Unfortunately, next time Beck was in Renegade mode, he soon found himself cornered by a group of angry citizens.

“We know your true identity, Renegade.”

They brought up a datapad and there they were. The dreaded butts.

What the hell?! I thought Tesler ignored it.

Then he remembered that Pavel kept hold of it. He probably put out a reward for Beck or something.

Stall. Stall.

“Who’s that guy on the left?”

“That’s you, idiot! The facts don’t lie! We all knew you weren’t Tron. Your butt is way too small.”

The next words out of his mouth were “Yeah, I lost it in the war.”

“Wait, what?”

Did he really just say that?

Oh well, he couldn’t think of anything else. Might as well commit.

“My former ally, Dyson, mutilated me.

Out of jealousy, maybe. Who knows why that guy does anything.”

This was met with stunned silence.

“It’s not something I like to talk about. And frankly, it’s none of your business. Now get out of my way, I’ve got places to be.”

Beck couldn’t believe that actually worked.

He barged past the group and ducked around the corner before they could say anything else.

A few minutes later, Tron called him on intercom.

He made a few attempts to say something, before breaking off with a sigh.

“I don’t even know what to say.”

“I can’t believe I got out of that.”

“Me either. And it was actually a half-decent excuse. I didn’t think that was possible.”

“Maybe this butt nonsense will finally be over.”

“Unlikely. But at least we’ve got a story now. I’ll put some scars on. That’ll help.”

Tron had that voice he had when his mind was made up.

“That’s gonna look ridiculous.” Beck didn’t actually protest, he just stated the obvious. He knew he wasn’t getting out of this.

“Should’ve come up with something else, then.”

“Oh? And what’s your bright idea?”

Silence.

“That’s what I thought.”

[jusst-you-race]

u posted abt oscar being sandwiched between the hassbands is making u think thoughts... so may i ask that as an occ snippet prompt?

love the fic btw! <3

okay i should be writing other prompts but this was just... too tempting... sorry not sorry everyone... anyway please enjoy possibly the most unhinged thing i have every written you're all welcome <3 for the ccc snippet prompts

Oscar I’m panic texting you from the bathroom

Logan Regular occurrence 

Oscar I need your help trying to work out intentions 

Logan Not my forte but go on…

Oscar you’re better than me

okay so Kevin and Nico are here as well 

Logan Like coincidentally at the bar? Or actually at Mark’s birthday drinks?

Oscar at Mark’s birthday drinks 

Logan Oh that’s nice

I told you not to worry too much about not knowing anyone 

Oscar yeah no not worried about that 

I’ve mostly been chatting with them 

it’s been nice they’re pretty chill 

but then at one point Kevin went to get them both more drinks and Nico decided he wanted to sit down so we went over to the booth and Nico like…idk encouraged me to sit next to him?

I mean it’s loud so like it would have been hard to talk across the booth 

so it sort of makes sense 

but he was really insistent 

Logan Fascinating… I mean like you said he probably just wanted to continue the conversation 

Oscar well yeah but when Kevin came back with the drinks I was like okay I’ll get up so he can sit next to Nico 

yknow his husband 

Logan Yeah… and?

Oscar well Nico just shuffled further into the booth 

and pulled me with him

Logan Pulled you with him how?

Oscar like… by the waist 

Logan Oh I see

Okay I’ll reserve my judgment based on how Kevin reacted

Oscar well he just kind of grinned and sat down on my other side 

Logan Yeah that’s what I suspected 

Oscar the booth was kind of crowded so like it made sense to squish in a bit 

but we were really squished in 

Logan Uh huh 

Oscar and then Kevin put his hand on my thigh

and I uhhh I panicked 

and said I needed to go to the bathroom 

and now here I am 

Logan Okay well they aren’t being very subtle 

Oscar do you think so?

Logan Yeah I’d say there’s a good chance they want you to be their third buddy 

Oscar you really think so?

Logan Pretty sure 

Oscar huh 

Logan I’m sure they’d back off if you weren’t into it 

Just tell them they seem nice 

Oscar well 

Logan Well?

Oscar I’m not … not into it 

Logan Then why are you panic texting me! 

Go get laid idiot!

Oscar I just wanted to be sure? 

Logan Well just go with the flow!

Respond to whatever they’re doing

You’ll be fine 

Oscar thanks Logie 

Logan I want details later 

Oscar yeah okay okay 

wish me luck 

Logan Good luck!!! Have a good threesome!!! 

Oscar yeah I won’t be home tonight 

Logan GET IT OSCAR 

Be safe!

Oscar 👍

Logan Morning champ you coming home soon?

Oscar?

Oscar sorry yeah coming home now 

Logan Bit late… it’s afternoon already  

Oscar uhh

we were busy 

Logan Lmao 

So it was good?

Oscar best sex of my life 

Logan Tell me everything when you’re home 

Oscar nosy

yeah okay 

be there in five 

[redlegumes]

Dec 8th: Dead Give Away, Innit?

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles

prompt: Idiots to Lovers | AO3: link | wc: 861 | rating: G | cw: none | tags: Wayne POV, first kiss, oblivious

Summary: Wayne is tired of Steve and Eddie, beating around the bush. It's obvious that when their 'kids' ask them to host a holiday party together they're ready for these two to get together too.

❆˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗❆

Wayne ducked his head out of the kitchen to see Eddie struggling, arms full ,trying to get through their small home’s door. He was about to help when he saw a familiar tan hand and scarred wrist help his nephew. Steve Harrington, back again.

Wayne waited a beat and then headed out after them. Eavesdropping was something he rarely did around Eddie, the boy deserved his privacy, but… he was curious what the two were up to this time. He hung back a little, listening to the young men while standing just inside the front door.

continues after the cut

He didn’t quite hear what Eddie said but he caught Steve’s reply.

“No, this time Max called.”

“What?”

“Yeah, she wanted to make sure we weren’t just ‘throwing it together’ last minute.”

“What a little ingrate,” Eddie exclaimed.

Wayne cracked the door open and watched as Steve leaned in toward Eddie, startling him into a low chuckle. “You love her.”

“You… no, you ‘Mama’ Harrington,” Eddie said, poking Steve in the chest, inches away from his face now. “You know, that’s what they call you.”

Wayne held his breath. Is this it?

Steve stepped back. “I guess I’ve got a reputation to uphold. So you better be bringing your ‘a’ game Eddie.”

“Sports ref-”

Wayne exhaled and stepped outside into the chill, Indiana winter air. Idiots. “-what’s all this now boys?”

Steve waved, and Eddie grinned before picking his gear back up. “The kids insisted we host a holiday party for them,” he huffed, loading an amp and his guitar into the back of the van.

“Yeah, very specific that we head it up,” Steve added, grimacing. “I don’t know why. I mean I’ve thrown some parties but-”

“Oh, really Stevie?”

Wayne folded his arms over his chest as he watched his boy hip check the always well groomed Harrington, slightly throwing him off balance. He also watched as the blush covered the young man’s face, and groaned lightly. The two had been fawning over each other, teasing, and then pulling back every time it looked like they might be finally getting somewhere. It’d been like that since April, and Wayne had just about had his fill.

Steve had already won him over. Harrington wasn’t given a free pass just for saving his nephew’s life, but in the following months he’d proven to be no fair weather friend to the Munsons. He shepherded those kids Eddie cared about too back and forth to physical therapy and just about anywhere else they begged him to. Steve would put on a show, all put upon, but Wayne saw the protective glint in his eye and the smile he hid every time he was ‘pressed’ to help them out. Steve was good people. But tripping over his tongue in front of Eddie was getting a little old.

Wayne suspected their extended friend group felt the same way if Steve and Eddie had been pushed to plan a holiday celebration together.

“The ‘Hair’ and his masterful party skills squandered on a lil event for a group of sophomores,” Eddie wheedled.

“Hey,” Steve protested. “And us, and Robin, she’s bringing Vickie. Jonathan and Nancy will be back in town, your DnD guys-”

“-my bandmates-”

“-both.” Steve tugged on one of Eddie’s curls. “It’s not just the kids.”

Wayne shifted his weight, fighting the urge to light up a cigarette. This has gone on long enough. “So, it sounds like you two are planning. Are the other older teens bringing anything to help out? You know, the couples other than you two. Decorations? Food?”

Steve blinked slowly. “Um, Everyone is bringing white elephant gifts. I recommended they bring snacks and drinks, but I don’t expect anyone to so I make sure to have plenty.”

“Who all is dating who now,” Wayne asked as casually as possible. If these two knuckleheads are going to keep being dense I might as well act oblivious. “I know the redhead is with Sinclair. But I never seem to know who Hopper’s kid is or isn’t seeing. And your Robin is seeing the Carmichael girl.” Steve was mouthing words without sound. Eddie had frozen where he stood. “But I suppose they wanted you two to host since you're the ones who have been together the longest and are still in town.”

Eddie’s face steadily turned bright scarlet. “What would, Wayne, what… Steve and me?”

“Aw, don’t worry none boy.” Eddie’s jaw dropped. “What,” Wayne chuckled, “was it supposed to be a secret? Jeez, you both doing this holiday get together is a bit of a dead give away innit?”

Steve’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Dustin, it was Dustin’s suggestion, and then everyone said we should…”

“Hmmm?” Wayne chose not to catch what he was saying. “Well, my two cents, if you care, is don’t get too worried about making it all perfect. Make sure you both have a good time too.” Wayne turned back to the house to hide his smile. “And don’t forget the mistletoe.”

…

Wayne parted the blinds a few minutes later to catch a quick glimpse of Steve and Eddie wrapped up in each other, kissing as flurries began to fall.

Finally.

2023 RedLegumes Steddiemas 1 2 3 4 5 6 10 SteddieHolidayDrabbles 1 2 3 4 6 8 9 10

[panlight]

hi! i’ve been really enjoying hearing your thoughts on the whole “olympic coven” thing (tbh it wasn’t something i had really thought about a lot before — i always just thought of them as “the cullens” lmao so i’m learning lots of new things)

but omg let me just say re: your possible alternative names post — “st. carlisle and his disciples” is canon!!!!!!! to me!!!!!!!!

i feel like to a lot of the other vamps the cullens do seem kinda cult-y, and even to the ones who know/like carlisle, it does kinda feel like there’s a little bit of an eyeroll and a “yeah my weird friend carlisle who likes helping humans — strange but charming i suppose”

i guess maybe it wouldn’t be like an “official name” but i absolutely 10000000% can see other vamps calling them that casually, or maybe it’s one of those things that was a joke one time and then it stuck

anyway, i just wanted to say that reading “st. carlisle and his disciples” sent me into absolute hysterics and then i was like “oh shit that’s so good tho like that’s literally them”

i hope you have a lovely day!! 🥰🥰

I'm sure I'm not the first person who has used some variant of that, but I find it so funny too and it seems like human nature--or, well, vampire nature--that Carlisle's whole deal would rub some vampires the wrong way, or they'd be inclined to tease him.

I sort of imagine it really started in Volterra, with its proximity to Rome/the Vatican and the seat of the Catholic power. Carlisle's not Catholic, but I'm sure to ancient vampires who pre-date Christianity, that distinction is hardly important. "The Vatican's that way, Your Holiness," etc.

I also suspect that early on Carlisle was probably a bit more "preachy" in the sense that he was 'young' and native and idealistic and the first few times he met another vampire he had probably assumed they'd be THRILLED to learn the Good News that animal blood was enough and they didn't have to kill people. And he'd give them this pitch that probably sounded like the vampire equivalent of someone knocking on your door and trying to convert you to their religion.

There's also this thing people do where they get kind of . . . defensive, in a weird way, when they meet someone who opts out of doing something that 'everyone' else does. For example, I don't drink alcohol. Not for religious or moral reasons, but more about family history, mental health and a genuine lack of interest. But some people get SO WEIRD when this comes up, like they think I am judging them for drinking or think I think I'm better than them for not drinking. And I imagine Carlisle gets this from other vampires, too that even if he's not proselytizing, other vampires still get this defensive reaction and respond with "okay St. Carlisle we get it, you're pure and holy and we're soulless demons."

But yeah, pre-BD I wouldn't have guessed he has as many friends as he does; I had kind of gotten the impression that only the Denali coven and Aro liked him and everyone else found him kind of annoying, the Ned Flanders of vampires. BD paints a different picture of vampires who like him, would risk dying for him, but I imagine there's still an element of teasing there, especially with the likes of Siobhan and Garrett. Maybe less the off-putting religious zealot who tries to convert you and more like the weird hippie vegan friend who lives on a commune. Nice guy, means well, but super weird.