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hitlikehammers · 22 hours ago

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POV: when you overhear your boyfriend’s bandmates who ⛔️do not like you⛔️ talking to him—about YOU

“Be real though, Ed. Harrington? You can’t actually be serious, here.” Steve doesn’t like to eavesdrop, like, on principle. Which is to say he totally does it. He just doesn’t wholly approve of it, or think it’s a very good habit to have, while still doing it. “You got me,” Eddie sighs, longer and deeper than can be taken wholly seriously. “I’m running my longest successful con to date.”

rating: t ♥️ tags: post-s4, established relationship, corroded coffin, as in: the gang’s all here and being VERY JUDGEMENTAL of eddie’s taste in men, and maybe steve had to pick eddie up from practice today so he overhears it WHOLLY WITHOUT INTENDING TO OKAY?, no one ever REALLY want to hear what the people they love really think of them when said people don’t know who all’s actually listening, true love, declarations of feelings, it’s actually really fucking hard to stand up to your friends, happy ending♥️

for @steddielovemonth day ten: "We are all a little weird and life's a little weird, and when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness and call it love." —Dr. Seuss

also! Unnamed Freak is Doug for the purpose of this fic because the book can fuck itself I say so 🖤

“Be real though, Ed,” the voice that filters through, and holds Steve’s hand from pushing the car door shut loud enough to notice, is fairly reasonable, like trying to talk down a suggestion absurd enough to send someone to the ER—which means, of the subjects at hand? It’s gotta be Jeff.

“You can’t actually be serious, here.”

Steve doesn’t like to eavesdrop, like, on principle.

Which is to say he totally does it.

He just doesn’t wholly approve of it, or think it’s a very good habit to have, while still doing it.

“You got me,” Eddie deadpans, but it’s like, venom-laced. It stings just to hear and Steve’s struck with how much his life’s changed since Spring Break, and more still since…well.

Since Eddie.

Because Steve is well aware the man can cut glass with how sharp his tongue can get, they did go to high school together whether they ran in the same circles or not.

It’s just strikes Steve in the moment that not once since Vecna, has Eddie turns that tongue on him.

Now, other uses of his tongue—

“I’m running my longest successful con to date. Yep, totally pulled it over on all you bitches,” and where it could be playful, every single word is sharpened to stab, to pierce, to drag the wound out so it bleeds, like a shiv to remind someone where they fucked up, in perpetuity.

“Please applaud.”

And oh, even Steve flinches at that tone, and he’s not even the target. Hell, he’s still in the driveway—he doesn’t make a rule of crashing band practice, no matter whose parents’ garage they’re using; Eddie’s van is just regularly in the shop for one thing or another, so he’s gotta come get his man. But he doesn’t, like, push his way in. Sometimes doesn’t even get out of the driver’s seat. He knows Eddie would more than welcome him; has the handful of times he’s ventured to step in to apologize for interrupting but remind him they have to pick up the shitheads. But one: Eddie is alone in his welcome, and like, the polar opposite of the other three guys, who range from staring daggers at Steve to sneering so scrunched up to the nose that it’d give Carol Perkins at her snittiest a run for her money.

And Steve wouldn’t have made it this far if he didn’t know how to recognise where he’s not wanted, and learn how to make the calculated decision of whether to walk or push his way in. And much as he loves Eddie? Steve actually wants his friends to eventually come around from probably, like, muttering ancestral curses under their breaths at him or something.

Plus, from what Steve understands? Jam sessions are personal. Sacred. Eddie had blushes and stammered the first time he let Steve listen in on works in progress; and Steve had rewarded him for the gift of it liberally and with genuine gusto. It’s earned him repeat performances on the regular, but Steve gets it’s a private thing in general. And these guys don’t know him, don’t presently care to—don’t trust him.

He figures it’s like…masturbating in front of someone. The art thing, the depth of making music and stuff. Showing your soul a little bit, losing control for the betterment of the final product.

Now, he and Eddie definitely have masturbated together, it’s actually fantastic foreplay, or even just a deliciously sloppy go on its own. But that’s neither here nor there. And also totally fucking different.

Steve really doesn’t want Eddie masturbating in front of anyone other than him, ever again. Steve’s sure as shit not looking to on his end; definitely not with the other members of Corroded fucking Coffin.

The metaphor might have gotten away from him. But you get the picture.

“No, man,” and that’s, that’s Gareth’s voice, Steve’s almost sure. Sharper. Concerned but also caustic on the undertow. “It’s just,” he snorts, the disbelieving sort: “this can’t be real.”

Okay, yeah. Tone plus actual words add up.

“Yeah, just,” Doug laughs a little nervous, like of all of them, Eddie’s verbal attack had the most weight in tempering his response of the three of them; “blink twice if you’re being held against your will.”

They all chuckle, but it’s toned down the whole way around—even Steve can clock that. These guys are boisterous when left to their devices, Steve’s taken note of that. Mostly watching from the sidelines—almost exclusively when they don’t know he’s there to watch.

Again: does not condone eavesdropping.

Does not try at all to refrain from doing it.

“I mean, you don’t expect us to believe you’re actually fucking him,” and oh, yeah, okay: Steve was pretty sure he was the topic conversation here, and despite some of the setbacks of recent years, he’s not insecure when it comes to relationships especially.

He’s definitely the only one fucking Eddie. And Eddie’s the only one fucking him.

And while he doesn’t really hold it against these guys for being wary of him—he wasn’t really a perpetrator of their high school woes, but he definitely didn’t do anything to make them less…woeful—so he’s mostly bummed about it for Eddie’s sake, and on principle, but like, seriously.

Doubting Steve successfully scoring Eddie Munson? Like, Eddie’s a catch, Steve of ll people is well aware, but. Steve’s also been long past fishing the shallow end of the pond, y’know?

Give him some credit.

“Right,” Steve narrows back in on what’s happening in the garage that he’s definitely feeling less guilty bout, seeing as he’s definitely a subject of the debate unfolding, but Eddie sounds…angry. Pissed off in that way he gets when he’s fed the fuck up.

“I’m out,” Steve hears scraping of equipment, the guitar case flipped open; “can’t actually make it next week,” he adds like a footnote.

It’s clear within a second he’s the only one who takes it with that same…energy.

“But we have to practice before the open mic—” Jeff, ever the voice of reason, sounds baffled; on his way to ticked off but not quite there yet.

Eddie, however—as is his wont in this type of mood—could not give two shits where the people around him land on the anger-o-meter; he’s exceeded them, even if only in his own head, and they are all therefore irrelevant to his very responsible decision to put distance between himself and doing something stupid he can’t take back.

It’s not the nicest way to deal but, honestly? Steve’s mostly just proud of Eddie for sticking with a coping mechanism that, while not without consequences, generally works better than most.

“I’ll see you guys in two, then. Probably.” And the case clicks shut, definitive, and Steve’s proud of that too; that Eddie’s not digging a hole when the guys re trying to bait him, intentionally or not, over Steve.

Steve doesn’t need Eddie to complicate his band, his friendships, over what the two of them have. One, it’s not their fucking business. And two?

Steve doesn’t thing he’s being self-important in saying he and Eddie…are bigger, and more, than even the very beat high school band.

Not that Steve would ever ask Eddie to choose or some bullshit like that. And he really does believe Eddie’s going places, if that’s what he decides he wants. But…there’s that.

Then there is them.

Different, like, stratospheres.

“What the fuck came up that you can’t make it next week? When we’re staring down our first actual shot at Battle of the Bands this year,” and yeah, of course, if anyone’s gonna try to drag the whole thing out, it’s Gareth. Kid’s got a fucking temper.

“Something more important.”

Which yeah, that’s what was going through Steve’s mind, basically, but—

“The hell could be more—“

“I have plans,” Eddie hisses, viper-quick and fucking deadly, shuts them all right up for it, but then he spins a 180–preens so big Steve swears he can hear his shoulders go back and his chest puff out:

“It’s my anniversary.”

So…yeah. Just because it was where Steve’s head had just been at doesn’t mean his whole chest goes all gooey to hear it said out loud.

And in front of Eddie’s band, who…they aren’t hiding from, but they have discussed keeping kinda mum around. For the same kinds of reasons Steve’s been privy to just in the past couple minutes.

But then Eddie’s voice follows the feeling in Steve’s chest like they’re tethered there, and honestly, more times than not?

Steve thinks they just might actually be, and he’s not proven wrong with the way Eddie halfway coos:

“Our anniversary.”

“Your what?”

Jeff, again, is that middle ground: actually confused, laced with being angry that Eddie’s ducking out.

“Six months,” Eddie answers, soft-like, a little dreamy but in this way that’s rooted somehow still, and in being struck all over again by a level of shock Steve understands, sometimes feels in reverse, but still doesn’t understand being felt so deep as it sounds, now, when it’s applied to…him.

It’s wild y’know?

“I’m like,” Steve hears Eddie’s curls brush against something as he shakes his head—Steve’s money’s on him crouched by his case, or having it already slung over his shoulder:

“Never thought I’d get something to celebrate like that in the first place, but get to keep it, that long without fucking it up?”

Steve, again, wants to give up the pretense and walk the fuck in there and kiss the shit out of his boyfriend because one, same, but two?

Dumbass.

Steve goddamn adores him.

“You mean, with Harrington?” Gareth’s spitting and Steve just shakes his head, a little sad—he doesn’t know what’s crawled up that kid’s ass about him, man; he’s not so much younger that Steve never saw him or didn’t know of him but godDamn: the circles he ran in at the time weren’t the ones doing shit yet when they were in the same elementary school, Steve was barely popular in middle school, and come high school the worst anyone he knew did to the frosh was bang them into a locker—not great, but.

Not worth this shit. And the worst part is if he doesn’t know what’s crawled he did to really piss Gareth off this bad? He can’t even try to Harrington-charm his way back into the guy’s tolerable category. Like, even his best fucking not-pot brownie recipe didn’t sway the fucker.

“Yes,” Eddie is answering, the answer emphatic, like he’s brimming with feeling over it, but then clipped too, like demonstrating that he was brimming and is now being forced to clip it all backis very much the intent: “of course I mean with Steve, who the fuck else?”

It’s not lost on Steve how Eddie says his name. Ever. All the name.

But right now, how he’s making a point to say it in that warm, kinda…beloved way, when anyone else uses his last name in a way that’s anything-but.

“You cannot be—” Gareth scoffs, Steve can imagine him throwing up his hands, that sort of deal, but then Eddie comes in, and it’s a tone Steve’s only ever hear when he’s about to run a campaign into the ground where the characters may never recover, and if somehow manage it, they’ll wish they hadn’t:

“Oh, I am deadly serious.”

Because it’s not Steve’s character, but in defense of Steve’s relationship, that tone trickles something molten through his veins and prickles up his spine and…he’s gone have to stick that one in his back pocket to explore at a later date, for sure.

“Six months?”

Jeff—and Steve kinda likes Jeff, and not for the reason his bandmates would like, that he kicks around Hawkins after graduation, too, but more because Steve knows why; that’s to make more money for a college outside Indiana, and Steve thinks that’s fucking cool—but it’s here where Jeff dips fully away from being angry to being stupefied. Steve lets himself smirk at nothing because fuck yes: him and Eddie.

Six whole goddamn months.

“I was actually gonna ask you guys to come over soon, introduce him properly and stuff,” Eddie says, the disappointment in his voice again; Steve’s niggling desire to go and hug him from behind, maybe kiss under his ear a little, back in full force.

“He picks you up from practice, we see him,” Doug pipes back up, likewise confused, but Steve just takes the useful confirmation that no one did catch on that he pulled up ages ago, now.

“We know who Steve Harrington is—” Gareth snaps, protests in the way that betrays his eye-rolling, his thin-wearing patience.

“No!”

And that comes out of Eddie fierce enough to echo down at least half the block they’re on—seems like Eddie’s patience was worn out a while ago.

“You don’t!”

And everyone is silent in that way Steve knows all too well: when shit’a gone down but now you’re waiting in the edge for the worse thing to hit.

Then it does:

“And it’s a good thing I didn’t bring it up because you dipshits aren’t ready,” Eddie snaps, says dipshitso different from how he does with the Party, theirParty, their kids; he says it here with something real fucking close to disgust.

“Asking hostage questions, fuck off,” he huffs, and Steve hears Eddie’s footsteps, can’t tell if he’s gonna leave it at that, come find Steve and know he’s been standing there but that’ll be fine, it’s not like Steve wasn’t going to let him know as soon as they left—but then:

“Look,” and Eddie sounds the way Steve sounds when he’s pinching the bridge of his nose to fight a growing migraine, the sting of tears for all sorts of pain behind his eyes, and that hurts to hear from his boyfriend, like, a lot.

It fucking hurts.

“I am not just fucking him,” Eddie growls through the bridge-pinching pain; “I mean, fuck yes, I am, but,” and Steve hears the way he swallows all the way down the drive:

“I’m in this for the long haul,” Eddie tells his bandmates like throwing down a gauntlet; “and if you can’t respect me enough, and my choices, that stings,” Steve knows Eddie shrugs then: “but I’ll live.”

Steve’s about a millisecond from saying fuck it, opening the door just to slam it to announce his approach, and then going to physically grab his boyfriend, drag him to the car, and park in the abandoned lot down from the Wheelers’ neighborhood to kiss him senseless because that’s the closest place he can think of and he doesn’t think he’ll make it to either of their homes before he can’t fucking handle himself.

“But if you are gonna disrespect the man I love, no. Absolutely not.”

Eddies voice is a deadly sort of whisper. Steve would cower at it, the way it washes through a person, if he hadn’t just…said.

That.

“You love him?”

And for what Steve thinks is the first time since he climbed out of the car and committed to listening where he wasn’t invited, Gareth sounds…muted. Genuinely asking a question.

Steve, for his own part, kinda expected that he’d be more breathless, heart racing and shit, to hear the answer but in reality?

“Of course I love him.”

Steve already knew that in his cells, in his bones.

In his steady, not all-that-fast but particularly-especially-happily beating heart.

“Have you guys, like, said it and stuff?”

And of course Steve already knows that answer, both the literal one and the one that matters more, but he does perk up a bit, curious to hear what—if anything of note—Eddie chooses to give away here.

“He has,” Eddie says, and now…now maybe Steve should stop listening because this part, the way Eddie says that as flat fact—Steve doesn’t knowthis part beyond speculation. But…

“I wanted to, like,” and eddies voice can’t hide the way he’s gotta have that soft smile, the one he used to hide behind his hair before Steve started pulling it back to see in full, so now he only brings his hair out just to tease, to okay.

“I don’t think I’ve wanted much in my whole life, but he’s,” and Steve thinks he hears how Eddie chews his bottom lip for a second, in the subtlest click of how it slips free before Eddie takes a deep breath and—

“He doesn’t know what he’s worth,” Eddie starts, a little mournful almost, even, and Steve is unexpectedly glued to the spot in his fucking Nikes.

“He doesn’t understand that I’d sell the sun and the moon just to keep him,” Eddie’s saying, and with passion. With whole-ass honesty. And here, maybe, is where Steve gets to have some of the heart:fluttery feeling after all:

“He comes out the gate with the whole you don’t have to say it back and I just,” Eddie sighs, sniffs a little before heaving another breath deep enough to stretch his shirt, which Steve’s not imagining or anything, at all;

“I couldn’t say it, not right then, and risk him everthinking it was something I’d done to like, match. Like that I didn’t mean it with everything I’ve got, when I mean it with everything I’ve got and then also everything else. Like, anywhere. Ever.”

Steve realized he’d stopped breathing at some point when the little dots start floating in front of his eyes and he sucks in a shaking breath because: he’s known Eddie loves him. Unshakeably.

But, but all this—

“I couldn’t say it and have him ever wondered if I wouldn’t rip my heart out of my chest just to keep his safe.”

And of-fucking-course Steve’s pulse is running fucking riot about how much he’s in love right now, make no goddamn mistake. Jesus, he—

“Fuck.”

And Steve has never heard Gareth Emerson pushed just this side of speechless but: that’s the best way Steve can describe the kind of breathless wonder he says it with, like watching a rare bird take flight.

“You mean it.”

And Steve can pick out Eddie’s huffs and categorize them, on demand at this point: he doesn’t need to see the eye-roll to know Eddie’s deemed the expression of pure shock to be so beneath him in this specific context that he’s deemed it unworthy of any more attention.

His heart’s not jumping that loud to have missed it. So.

Steve just kinda grins toward the blacktop under his shoes.

“Why didn’t you,” Doug starts, still—usually, really, in Steve’s limited experience at least—the peacekeeper, the one who’s most invested at the human level when he’s not getting swept up in whatever the rest of the gang has deemed the cool thing to laugh at or make fun of at any given moment.

The huff Eddie gives this time is his incredulous one, which allows for just the slightest bit more consideration:

“The fuck do you think?”

The slightest bit, being the operative point.

“I’d hoped you’d take it better but,” Eddie adds, and there’s less drama in it than Steve might have expected. He’s being serious with them, and he sounds…disappointed.

Steve kinda want to make some kind of noise, give away his position, and just…hug Eddie tight from behind, if nothing else. Be there. Solid against him, wrapped up around him. Never wavering. Always at his back as much as at his side.

But Eddie’s not done:

“I’m not even asking you to like him, just be decent,” and it sounds like it hurts him to say as much, and Steve knows why; he genuinely despises when anyone thinks Lea with a the very beat thing about Steve. Steve believes this to be n unreasonable standard, and has expressed as much to Eddie who nods and smiles and kisses Steve’s forehead and does absolutely nothing to change his stance, but deep down?

Steve fucking feels so…loved for it.

“And like I said,” Steve can hear the judgement in Eddie’s tone clear as day; “you’re not ready, and I’m not putting him in that kind of situation.”

Steve sucks on the inside of his cheek, lest his grin at the way Eddie is not just defending him, but…protecting him, not his honor but his heart…

No ones ever even tried that before. Steve may not need it, or maybe he just learned he couldn’t survive needing it.

Getting it now…now it’s just…

Wow.

“And I’m in this for keeps, like, this is a forever type thing, so long as he wants it,” Eddie saying, explaining the color of a sky to a small child like what these words are that fundamental, that unalterably true. “So—”

“We’ve known each other forever, man,” Gareth eventually mutters, sounds indignant, but mostly gutted.

Steve knows before it happens that it’s not gonna make a difference.

“And we can still know each other. Just not everything, anymore,” and Eddie does sound a little sad but he’s…he’s a monolith, unshakable. “I don’t trust you with the parts that revolve around him, yet,” and Steve feels more than hears the ways his friends deflate, maybe shrink for being deemed so…insufficient. In the eyes of their ostensible leader, no less.

“Eddie, we didn’t,” Jeff starts, slow, and he doesn’t sound remorseful but—Eddie has all those coping mechanisms for a reason, right?

Because he’s quick to feeling, good and bad, and sometimes neither is fit to the moment.

Steve can’t help but be kinda glad Eddie doesn’t bother with those mechanisms just now, though, if it means he gets to hear this part:

“I know you didn’t, that’s the fucking problem,” Eddie groans, Steve can see the way he lens, bends at the knees and throws his body around a little in sheer, undiluted exasperation. “

“Because I could tell you he’s changed since school, and that’d be true, but that’s not even it,” and there’s more of the frustrated stomping round, Steve can hear it, but he’s…he’s ready distracted by that thing in his chest that has to has to be tied up in Eddie’s, too, that thing tugging on him to pay the fuck attention.

And who is he to ignore it?

“he was never who we thought he was in school in the first place. He is,” Eddie licks his lips, just to snack them loud:

“He is kind and funny, and goofy, and such a fuckin’ nerd, and he’s smart in these incredible ways where he’s sees what everyone else misses, and he’s protective as fuck and he’s got a heart of gold,” and Eddie’s voice only gets more heartfelt in its own right that longer he goes and Steve just, he’s, it’s—

“And I would tear my skin off just so it doesn’t get so much as a scuff on it,” Eddie ends with the most scathing delivery imaginable: he fucking meansthis shit. And Steve is going o live and die next to this man, scuffed heart still kept safe to the fucking end, he will swear that shit to anyone who needs to hear it.

He is going to have a whole fucking life with Eddie Munson, and love him for every single breath of it.

“And I don’t trust you guys yet not to tempt me to tear off my skin,” Eddie says finally after enough silence to catch his breath, and temper his tone just enough to sound tired; a little dejected. “I don’t trust you with him, and until that changes, we’re still friends,” Eddie sniffs, breathes out long; “you just won’t get to know about that part of me.”

He says it so simple, like he’s not half-cutting off some of the longest, closest friendships he’s ever had, and for Steve.

Steve doesn’t know if it makes him a person, or a really selfish one or whatever, if he doesn’t feel any urge to talk Eddie down, to make him walk it back just a little.

He doesn’t think he cares, though, either way.

“Seems like a really big part of you,” Doug says, deflated entirely.

“It is,” Eddie answers, unapologetic in a way that swells and sparkles in Steve’s ribs. “He is.”

“You’d walk from the band?” Of course Gareth asks, but it’s the first time he sounds small in his words. Like he maybe knows the answer, and isn’t so okay with how he got around to it even before Eddie wishes all doubt:

“In half a fuckin’ heartbeat.” Boom. Done. No hesitation whatsoever.

Less than half-a-fuckin’-heartbeat.

“That’s not what I’m saying I’m doing right now, but,” Eddie laughs a little, and that probably cuts deeper than anything for the boys, Steve suspects, especially when Eddie makes it unquestionable:

“It’s not even a question.”

And…maybe that drives a knife deeper for the band, but for Steve?

Steve kinda wants to…giggle, or some shit. He hadn’t realized just how much he wanted someone who answered a question like that, exactly like that, who talked about Steve exactly like that, without anything to gain, just because they…believed it.

“Jesus,” Gareth mutters, sounds kinda blindsided, kinda thrown and then some.

“If we,” Jeff clears his throat after a long period of quiet; “if we do better, could we meet him someday?” And the way he says it, earnest and shit:, like he wants to at least think about, at least maybe try:

“Like, really meet him?”

Like Eddie means enough that he’ll try, and that sings sweet in Steve’s veins because goddamn straight, his Eddie deserves that from the people hecares about. No matter who or what Steve is, Eddiedeserves that much, and so much more.

But he sounds like even just this is something amazing, Steve can hear the smile in his voice:

“Yeah, man,” he answers Jeff, claps him audibly on the shoulder; “I look forward to it.”

And shit, y’know what?

So does Steve.

“See you in two weeks,” and Eddies footsteps follow, guitar slung over his back for the way his weight falls with each one, but then:

“Eddie!”

That’s Doug; the footsteps stop close to the edge of the garage door as another set rushes to catch up, where he’ll see Steve if he walks much farther, where Steve’s got his hand on the door handle of the car, slowly inching it open to push shut and look wholly-unsuspicious now that Eddie might be followed out to his ride:

“Get him flowers. For your anniversary,” Doug says, tone low like a secret; “I know, like, it might seem like guys wouldn’t want flowers, but,” and Steve actually has to strain to hear the next part:

“My mom gets my dad flowers on his birthday every year, and he lights up like the Fourth of July.”

Steve remembers the first time he ever got flowers. His favorites, even if he thinks he only knew it subconsciously because they were handed to him with the stammering explanation of I don’t even know if you like flowers, or like these ones, but you look at them when we’re out, like, just walking or something and your eyes linger, and these ones just remind me of you and—

Apparently, Steve loves hyacinths. And sunflowers make Eddie think of him.

Because of course Steve’s first gift of flowers came from Eddie.

“Thanks man,” Eddie sounds the lightest, most genuine Steve’s heard him since he pulled up and got out of the car; “they’re already ordered.”

And Doug chuckles, and Steve?

Steve bites down his smile to less exploding-star levels—if he’d just pulled up he doesn’t have a reason, save that Eddie is enough of a reason in Steve’s eyes, his mind, the way his chest expands just thinking on him—as he pulls the car door closed again, loud enough to be noticed.

For Eddie to walk out of the garage fast as anything and meet Steve with a smile of his own that justifies the fuck out of where Steve’s had started, anyway.

All star-bright and everything.

♥️🎸♥️

✨also on ao3✨

btw this is either titled ‘halcyon shoegazing’ or ‘heart in your shoes’ so if you have an opinion you should maybe tell me or something, my brain’s tired and is resisting decisions rn

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @ajeff855 @askitwithflours @awkwardgravity1 @bookworm0690 @bumblebeecuttlefishes @captain--low @depressed-freak13 @dragoon-ze-great @dreamercec @dreamwatch @dreamy-jeans137 @estrellami-1 @goodolefashionedloverboi @grtwdsmwhr @gunsknivesandplaid @hiei-harringtonmunson @hbyrde36 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @kimsnooks @live-laugh-love-dietrich @mensch-anthropos-human @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notaqueenakhaleesi @ollyxar @pearynice @perseus-notjackson @pretend-theres-a-name-here

divider credit here and here and here

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #post s4 #established relationship #corroded coffin #as in: the boys are here #and they DO NOT APPROVE OF STEVE #and think it’s absolutely essential to confront eddie about what the hell he thinks he’s doing with HARRINGTON of all people #and yeah okay: maybe steve OVERHEARS IT ALL #it’s 100% accidental though #eddie’s van is just in the shop! he needs a ride from band practice!#fluff #romance #anniversary #eddie munson: COME DEFEND YOUR MAN #true love #declarations #love confessions #steve harrington gets to feel all warm and gooey about his boyfriend okay? he deserves that #stranger things #steddielovemonth #prompt: we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness and call it love #hitlikehammers v words #hitlikehammers writes

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moonstruckme · 16 hours ago

Note

Here’s my idea for Spencer and intern!reader if you’d be so kind to write it <3 something like Spencer comforting reader after she saw/experienced something rough and is trying not to show emotion bc she thinks that’s what being on the team is

Thank you for requesting!

cw: crime scene, no descriptions but there is a body and the killing is discussed in vague terms, nausea, reader is a bau intern but also an adult

Spencer Reid x intern!reader ♡ 1.1k words

You’re all bottled up. Spencer should be listening to the police officer telling them about witnesses who discovered the victim, but you’re distracting him. You’re breathing deep and slow, intentionally, and your gaze flickers between the cop and the body like you’re not sure which deserves your attention more. Your skin looks waxy in the morning light.

Spencer is able to step away fairly easily, leaving JJ and Morgan with the officer as he grasps your elbow to pull you with him.

Closer, your breaths are audibly stilted. “What’s up?” you ask, sounding remarkably composed despite how your eyes are still moving between Spencer and the victim.

He walks you away from the crowd, back towards the SUV. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

You say it too fast. Spencer watches you realize this, and in the same moment you know of course he has too.

Still, he says gently, “You look like you’re going to faint. If you are, it’s better if you tell me.”

You reach the SUV. Spencer opens the passenger side, expecting you to sit in the seat to steady yourself, but you only take refuge behind the door. Away from the eyes of the rest of the team, you close your eyes, sucking in another deep breath.

“I’m not going to faint,” you say on the exhale. This time, with enough conviction that Spencer believes you. “I’m really sorry, I just—I feel sort of sick.”

“That’s okay,” he murmurs.

“I’m fine. I’ll be fine in a minute.”

“Do you want some water?” Spencer reaches into the glove box to find an unopened bottle. “Here, drink small sips of this.”

“I’m okay,” you say, twisting the cap off to do as he says.

“It’s okay if you’re not,” he offers. “I know it’s not your first crime scene, but it can be disturbing, the things we see. You know, for most people, even smelling a dead body without seeing it is enough to…” He slows when he can hear his team groaning at him in his head. Spence, JJ would say, in her fond and motherly way, not helping. “...to…well, you know. It’s a lot.”

You give a little laugh. Fortunately, you seem not to be affected by Spencer reminding you of the smell. Unfortunately, you now look closer to tears than vomiting.

“I know we have to see this stuff all the time.” Your voice is choked down to a whisper, face pointed at the ground. Spencer finds himself leaning closer to hear you. “And I know that none of the deaths are pretty, or…or easy. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to let it affect me.”

“That’s nothing to be sorry about. We’re all affected.”

“But you don’t show it.”

“We have…we have practice. But we all show it sometimes. Some cases are worse for some of us than others.”

“I guess I just haven’t—” Your voice splinters, and Spencer’s heart does a poor mimicry of the sound. “—haven’t seen one this…intentional yet.”

You squeeze your eyes shut as two tears streak down your cheeks. You look frustrated and afraid, and even younger than usual. Spencer has his arms around you without knowing how he got there.

He understands what you mean. The cases you’ve worked so far have been awful in their own ways, but this killer took his time in a way the others didn’t. He left his victim mutilated, torn apart with a cold-hearted meticulousness that would be enough to horrify even the most seasoned agent. By your anguish, Spencer knows you’ve probably seen it all play out in your mind a dozen times.

Spencer thinks of himself as an empathetic person. He’s seen some terrible things, but he still tries to meet people, especially people at his job, with compassion and kindness. It doesn’t explain why he’s so startlingly desperate to soothe you.

He holds the back of your head and keeps you folded into him, his other hand rubbing your back as you take in a wet, shuddering inhale.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “It’s okay.”

Your voice is a choked, fraught thing. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.”

“I want to be professional.”

“Sweetheart” —it slips out without him meaning for it to; Spencer ploughs ahead before either of you can think about it— “you’re not being unprofessional. This is…this is what we do. It’s hard sometimes. Everyone here understands that. Everyone on our team has done what you’re doing.”

Another short, soft laugh, followed by a sniffle. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Is that why you’re so good at this?”

Spencer pauses. “No, I’m…well, I wouldn’t say I am good at this, actually. I’m glad you think so, though.”

“Yeah, you are.” You straighten, wiping underneath your eyes with a knuckle. “God, everyone is going to know I cried.”

He can’t deny that. “They won’t care,” he promises you instead. “No one will ask questions if you don’t want them to. We all get it.”

“I knew there were some really fucked up people out there,” you say in a small voice. “I just haven’t really thought as much about the people who…” Your gaze shifts, as if drawn by a magnet, through the tinted window of the SUV and back toward the crime scene. Your expression goes haunted. “...who they…”

Spencer puts his hand to the side of your face. It’s not like him, and your eyes widen at the contact but you let him direct your attention away. Your skin is warm and tacky against his fingertips.

“It might help to sit down for a minute,” he suggests gently. You’re pliable, allowing him to nudge you back into the passenger seat. “Drink some more, okay? Do you still feel sick?”

You think about it, then shake your head. “Not really.”

“Let’s wait a bit anyway.”

You swallow some water. Worry your lip. “You shouldn't have to coddle me.”

“It’s not coddling,” Spencer says quickly. Too quickly, maybe. Luckily, you’re not as skilled a profiler and you don’t catch him. “It’s okay to step away sometimes. They don’t need us over there right now.”

“Yeah.” You breathe out. “Yeah, okay. Thank you, Spencer.”

He gets called lots of things. Spencer is one of them, of course, along with Reid, Spence, Kid, Boy Genius, and sometimes even Professor. None of them sounds as heavy sweet as his name on your lips.

“We can wait here.” He decides it as it comes out of his mouth. He’ll have to get the details of the crime scene secondhand, might even make a trip to the coroner’s later to inspect the body himself, but in this moment Spencer can’t think of anything he wouldn’t do to make you comfortable. Inconveniences are trivial. “They’ll come find us when they’re ready to go to the station.”

You look conflicted, your dedication to the team warring with your obvious desire to avoid being near the victim again. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” Spencer’s own voice sounds distant as he tries to make sense of the unfamiliar tug in his middle. “I’m sure.”

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vettelsvee · 3 days ago

Text

I'M SORRY, JULIET | Mick Schumacher

Mick Schumacher x Secret Girlfriend Vettel!Reader

SUMMARY: You're secretly dating Mick, both of you hiding it from everyone in your families until you get so happy about him getting his first points in Formula 1 that your father, Sebastian, ends up finding out

WORD COUNT: 2404

WARNINGS: Curse words, mentions of teen pregnancy (age 17 from Seb and Hanna), angst. Settled on 2022 British GP

VEE'S NOTES: I missed so much posting about Mick so I had to bring him back... even that means Seb is the "bad guy" here. Hope you like it and thanks for reading! I'll be waiting for your opinions <3 ↳ TALK TO ME / REQUESTS! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST

You hadn’t attended a Formula 1 race for longer than you could remember, and truthfully, you never thought you would again until Mick Schumacher started turning your world pink.

The boy had known you since you were a child, back when you would occasionally attend races hand in hand with your grandfather, Norbert. Your relationship deepened every time you saw each other in the paddock or at family gatherings, and despite the age difference between you, you grew closer and closer until you eventually fell in love with each other.

Even before your relationship began, you were both fully aware of the obstacles in your way. It wasn’t just the fact that Mick was six years older than you, but also that you were the children of two drivers who weren’t just former rivals and friends, but also were like family.

All of that, combined with the inevitable pressure from the press if they ever found out about your relationship, mattered little to Mick. One afternoon in mid-June, when the Schumachers and the Vettels had gathered together, he had decided to confess his feelings for you. At first, you were completely in shock, hearing from the lips of the very boy you had loved for years that he loved you too.

So, of course, when Mick asked if you wanted to be his girlfriend, you didn’t doubt to say yes.

Neither of you cared what others might say because, for now, no one knew about your relationship.

And there you were now, standing in the Aston Martin garage alongside your mother and your three younger siblings, watching the race with great enthusiasm as Sebastian drove the emerald-green car.

To the outside world, it might have seemed like you were simply there for one of the most important days in your father’s career since it was his 35th birthday. But in reality more than watching your father, you wanted to see your boyfriend.

Hanna noticed the tense expression on your face. Smiling warmly and without taking her eyes off Emily and Matilda, who were playing tag nearby, she stepped closer to you.

“Are you okay, Y/N? You seem like you’re in another galaxy.”

Your body tensed at the question, something that happened every time someone in your inner circle mentioned directly or indirectly your secret boyfriend. You tried to hide what was on your mind, but the combination of your mother’s presence and your nerves made you say more than you actually wanted.

“I’m nervous because I want dad to finish in the points,” you said with as much conviction as possible, though it wasn’t enough to convince Sebastian’s wife. “And well… I’m also worried about Mick.”

Hanna raised an eyebrow, curious, but not pressing. She had once been seventeen too. More than that, she had gotten pregnant with you at that age, and she knew that your concern for Mick went beyond simple friendship. Mothers developed a sixth sense when it came to their children, and she knew you too well to be fooled.

“Mick? Why would you be worried about Mick?” she asked, making sure not to pry too much or reveal how much she already knew.

“Well… he’s having a really good race today,” you replied, lowering your gaze to the floor. “I’d like him to get a high position,” you explained, “even though with the piece of crap car he has we can’t expect much.”

Hanna nodded understandingly, reading between the lines of your words.

“I get it, sweetheart. I was the same way with your dad when he started racing,” she said, deliberately choosing her words to make you overthink. “Mick has a lot of talent, but he’s not in a team that helps him shine, so I understand why you care so much.”

“If you ever need to talk about Mick you know you can trust me, right?” Hanna added,

You appreciated your mother’s words, though you remained cautious just in case she was digging for something that might expose your relationship. How naive you were to think she didn’t already know you were dating one of Sebastian’s best friends’ sons.

When the checkered flag waved and the twenty cars crossed the finish line, your eyes remained glued to the leaderboard. Not only had Carlos, one of your best friends, taken his first victory, but both Mick and Sebastian had finished in the points, placing eighth and ninth respectively.

Your father earning two points on his birthday was amazing. Your boyfriend earning three? Even better, especially since it was his first time scoring points in Formula 1. Saying you were emotional was an understatement, and no matter how much you tried to hold it in, a few tears escaped down your cheeks. You wiped them away quickly to avoid drawing attention.

Hanna, still by your side as she fed the youngest member of the family, noticed you approaching with a hesitant expression, as if you wanted to ask something but were afraid to.

“Can I go to Mick’s garage to congratulate him?” you asked cautiously. “It’s his first time scoring, and I’d like to say something to him in person before we leave for Switzerland.”

“I know you’re excited for him,” your mother said while burping the baby, “but I think it’s better if you stay here. It’s your dad’s birthday, and honestly? I doubt Haas would even let you see Mick.”

You nodded, though sadness crept in. You looked at the monitors, seeing the top three drivers already celebrating on the podium. Even from your location, you could hear the Spanish national anthem playing over the speakers.

“Mum,” you tried again, “come on, let me go congratulate Mick. I’ll be back quickly, and I’ll be here by the time dad gets back!”

Your exaggerated gestures and the way you waved your arms were too adorable, and Hanna couldn’t help but see herself in you. She remembered how she had felt when she started dating Sebastian, wanting nothing more than to see him every chance she had. As much as she tried to be the responsible mother, sometimes she just couldn’t help it. This was one of those moments, one where she gave in to the charms of her eldest, the spitting image of her father.

“Make sure you come back as soon as possible,” she relented with a small smile. “I don’t want your father calling me a bad mother for letting his baby do grown-up things.”

“Thank you, mum!”

With that being said, you sprinted off, weaving through mechanics, fans, and celebrities scattered around the paddock. You checked your phone to see if Mick had texted you, but there was nothing. That only made you hurry toward the Haas garage. Seeing it empty, you quickly turned around and headed toward the hospitality area, which was further away. While dodging anyone in your way, you sent Mick a message telling him you were on your way and that you had to be quick before your father returned.

When you arrived, the first thing you saw was Mick soaked in champagne, holding a bottle in his hand. The Haas team members, including Guenther, were celebrating. You felt out of place and your insecurity crept in, making you want to turn around and leave. But then Mick saw you, and the moment your eyes met, you knew you had made the right choice.

Mick immediately broke away from the group and rushed to your side, hugging you tightly. He wanted nothing more than to kiss you, even if just a quick peck, but his rational side reminded him that now was not the place.

“Congratulations, Mick!” you exclaimed, your excitement taking over you. “Oh my God, oh my God! I’m so proud of you!” you squealed, throwing your arms around his neck.

“I finally get to see you, princess. You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to,” he murmured playfully. “Although, I’d love to do a few other things with you.”

Your face turned bright red, something you had grown used to ever since you started dating Mick and were used to hear his endless compliments.

“How was the race?” he asked. “Did you like it, even though I probably looked like an idiot who doesn’t know how to drive?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Mick!” you scolded, lightly hitting his arm. “You scored points for the first time. If that’s being an idiot, then I don’t know what that makes me.”

“That makes you the love of my life.”

Mick pulled you even closer, and just as he was about to kiss you, completely ignoring the risks, a voice interrupted.

Or rather, someone did.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Mick Schumacher?!”

As soon as you heard your father’s shouts, you and Mick pulled apart. You stood frozen, your face turning completely pale as Mick began cursing himself. How was he supposed to explain to the man who was like a father to him in many ways that he was dating you, his daughter?

You didn’t stay silent. You, who had a temper as strong as the man who had given her life, stepped between Mick and your father, trying to ease the tension that had formed over a simple show of affection.

“Dad, stop! It’s not what it looks like!” you exclaimed, nervous but determined.

“What do you mean it’s not what it looks like?” Sebastian scoffed, unwilling to believe your words. “Come on, Y/N, you were about to kiss him!”

“Yes, because Mick is my boyfriend,” you stated without hesitation. “We’ve been secretly dating since last month because we didn’t want to say anything just yet,” you explained without caring about the consequences. “So don’t act like this and use your fucking head and be reasonable for once.”

The Aston Martin driver was stunned, unsure how to react to the news that his daughter had a boyfriend, and that it was none other than the son of the man he considered his best friend, who had once been his mentor.

Mick watched as Sebastian looked at you in disbelief before shifting his gaze back to you, focusing all his attention on you.

“Y/N, this is insane… Mick,” he gestured toward him, “isn’t just any driver, he’s the son of—”

“I already know, Dad!” you interrupted, your tone sharp. “And? Does it matter? I don’t care who his father is, or who mine is, or the relationship between you two,” you tried to keep your voice steady. “We love each other, we take care of each other, and that’s the only thing that should matter to you.”

Mick alternated his gaze between father and daughter, finally mustering the courage to say something. But, before he could even open his mouth, Sebastian raised his right hand, silencing him immediately:

“Stop trying to fix this. You’ve fucked up, Mick,” he muttered as he stepped closer, his voice low enough that not even you could hear it. “My daughter is too young, and you know you could get into serious trouble if this gets out,” he added before stepping away and moving back toward you. “ I just sort of saved you from shit talks about you, so consider yourself lucky.”

“You can’t blame Mick for this, Dad,” you interjected defiantly. “We’re adults, and we can make our own decisions, so just leave us alone already.”

“You are not an adult, Y/N Vettel, you’re still a kid,” Sebastian snapped, his voice filled with unfiltered anger. “Stop acting like you are, because all you are is a reckless little girl.”

“Let me remind you that when you were 17 you fucked mum and you got her pregnant.”

You threw it out without thinking, and immediately, you regretted it, placing your hands over your mouth as if that could fix what you had just said. You knew you had been the most beautiful mistake your parents had, but you didn’t think about the impact it could have in their lives, especially in your father’s.

"I'm sorry, Juliet," the older driver began, trying not to let his anger and, especially, the pain he felt from your comment show. "But it's time to leave."

"Dad..."

"Not 'dad' or anything, Y/N," Sebastian said, raising his voice and making it sound harsher than he had intended at first. "Do you think it’s funny for me to see my daughter rubbing herself up against the one I consider my son?"

Mick paled as he heard his mentor’s words, feeling completely awful because he knew Sebastian was right. You threw him a look, but didn’t have the strength to answer. You were so in shock that you didn’t know how you hadn’t just left yet.

"And you, Mick," he said now, shooting a penetrating look at the young man, "I thought you could show a little more respect for our family and everything we’ve built together all these years."

Having said that, Sebastian took you by your shoulders carefully and started walking back to where the rest of your family was, not giving you or Mick a chance to say goodbye.

"We don't choose who we fall in love with, Sebastian," Schumacher blurted out, still frozen in place.

Your father and you turned around. The look of disappointment on Seb’s face made Mick feel a thousand times worse than he ever thought he could, but it was the sight of your tears falling rapidly that made him start crying.

"I expected you, more than anyone, to agree with this," he continued, pointing at you and himself, "because if there’s one thing I know, it’s that your daughter deserves someone good who can make her life the best it can be. If I can’t be that person because you won’t let us..." he pointed at himself, "...then I’ll be okay with it being someone else."

Vettel swallowed hard, not knowing what to say to the German’s words.

"I just want Y/N to be happy," the boy said again, "and if I have to let her go for now until you can accept and see that I’m really in love with your daughter, and that she’s the love of my life, I’ll be willing to do so."

With that, the young man turned around, trying not to look back, hoping to hear some words from those he had considered his family for so many years.

But, unfortunately for him, you and your father didn’t.

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mybelovedsylus · 3 days ago

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Another day another smutty drabble. You know the drill, no minor interactions please. I’m a Sylus girlie who still quite enjoyed the unhinged Caleb - so I got to thinking. Sylus would definitely want to make sure Caleb knew that you were taken - granted a little OOC cause he likes these intimate moments to be private, but I couldn’t get the idea of him calling Caleb while fucking MC to prove a point… so well that’s what this shit is and that’s your warning. Hope you like it - not edited as always. I'm still working on my smut writing too so forgive me

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Sylus knew he was a possessive motherfucker. Of that he had no doubt, but if he did he knew for sure when he had your ankles draped loosely over his shoulder as your phone dialed next to your head on speakerphone.

"You can not be serious right now," you gasped, hands clutching against nothing as Sylus' evol kept them pinned to the bed. Couldn't have you hanging up prematurely now could we? Not when there was a point to be proven.

"Pipsqueak, what's up?"

Sylus sneered as soon as he picked up, like that wasn’t exactly what his intention was. He looked from the phone to you and raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to respond. As you opened your mouth, he slammed all the way home causing a moan to rip out of your throat, which you were quick to try and muffle by biting down hard on your lip. Sylus looked downright gleeful, the red of his eyes practically glowing.

"You okay over there?" Caleb's voice came through gentle but questioning.

"Ye-yeah, just stubbed my toe?" you gasped out but it sounded unsure. Well now that wouldn't do. Sylus leaned down, essentially folding your knees into your chest, which in turn pushed him even further into you which you couldn't help but groan at. His mouth latched on to your peaked nipple, flicking and tweaking it as his hand reached up to lavish the other with similar attention.

"You must have really stubbed it good, do you need me to bring dinner and some medical aid?" Caleb offers sweetly.

"NO!"

There's silence on the line and you glare as Sylus chokes back a laugh as he leans back, resuming a lazy pace and wiping the hair out of your eyes. The sweet gesture is a stark contrast to the debauchery happening here. Sylus is drawing it out, giving slow lazy thrusts that drag every vein and inch over your sensitive spots, dragging you closer and closer to that precipice. You need Caleb to hang the fuck up before that happens.

"I appreciate the - fuck - offer, but really I'll be okay."

You know it comes out like phone sex, airy and deep, but that's because it's like Sylus can read my mind and is trying to get me over the peak as quick as he can - like he wants Caleb to hear just what he does to me. This possessive motherfucker - but also what does that say about you that you find yourself getting wetter at the idea?

"Uh, okay, was that all you called to tell me? That you stubbed your toe, but otherwise you are fine?" Caleb asked. You could tell he didn't believe a word of what you were trying to sell.

"Mhm," you gasp out as Sylus draws tight circles over your clit, picking up the pace of his thrusts. You are starting to wonder if the slap of skin and the rough slide through your wetness is echoing on the phone like it is in your ears.

"Okay," he draws out, suspicion evident in his tone, "I'm just gonna let you go then."

It's too late though. Between the bruising and pistoning pace,and the flicking of your clit, there's not much you can do to hold it back. You try to bite your lip to hold the noises at bay, but Sylus pulls it free with his other hand. He holds your cheeks in a grasp that holds your mouth open, and you cry his name out as your vision goes white and everything in your body pulls taught with your orgasm. He laughs breathlessly, leaning down to suck at the skin of your neck. He turns his head slightly towards the phone, groaning out your name as his hips stutter and he meets you at the peak. He leans more deeply on you, keeping the two of you joined as he reaches over for the phone.

"Aw, looks like your “gege” hung up," he mutters, tossing your phone off the bed as he looks down at you with what you can only say is a boyish smile.

"You are such a possessive asshole, oh my god, how am I ever supposed to look him in the eye again?"

"You can protest all you want, but you were gushing- looks to me like my kitten might have a bit of an exhibitionist in her," Sylus responds with a sly grin, his hand giving a lazy tweak to your overabused clit that makes you jump. You try to pull away and he makes a tsk noise as he follows, ensuring he remains firmly within the snug confines of your walls.

"Where do you think you're going, when did I say I was done with you?"

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #lads #lads sylus #sylus love and deepspace #sylus #love and deepspace smut #love and deep space smut #sylus smut #love and deepspace Caleb #overuse of the nicknames probably but here we are

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minarisplaything · 1 day ago

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A Good Boy's Reward (ft. TripleS)

summary: your biker mommies decide to reward you for doing a good job on the most recent run. aka these concept photos inspired something tags: threesome, foursome (sort of), pegging, rimming, excessive use of 'baby boy', mommy kink, daddy kink, biker gang!au, domme!Sohyun also known as just Sohyun, male reader, did i mention pegging? seriously don't continue if this isn't your cup of tea word count: 4.6k

“Baby boy, are you ready?”

You shuddered, feeling Xinyu’s hot breath against your ear. The tall, 174-centimeter goddess stood behind you, her arms circling around your shoulders. Sohyun, who was across the room tinkering with preparations, glanced over her shoulder. Her short-cropped hair only accentuated the smirk that graced her features.

“Look at him, he’s practically trembling,” she teased.

“He’s just excited,” Nakyoung, the third member of the group, her voice comforting.

She was kneeling atop the bed so she was eye level with you, her hand rose to stroke your cheek. Her role as a foil to Sohyun’s demeanor was incredibly effective. “Isn’t that right?”

You could only nod at first, your mind still grappling with the situation you found yourself in.

“I guess I am a little nervous…”

“It is his first big reward after all,” Xinyu said, one hand rising to stroke your hair while the other ran circles against your skin. Her voice was warm and flirtatious, “You’ve really been working hard for us.”

“Yeah, if it weren’t for those last adjustments you made we might have been sitting in a jail cell,” Nakyoung smiled. “You’re our little genius.”

“If you keep praising him like that he’s going to get an ego,” Sohyun chided from across the room.

“He would never!” Nakyoung protested, a slight pout forming on her features as she looked at Sohyun before turning back to you. “Right?”

“O-of course not,” you stammered.

“Well, if you did then we’d just have to put you in your place,” Sohyun said.

Something about the words she spoke sent another tremble through you. Almost as if you hoped she’d follow through on those words. And, admittedly, a part of you definitely did.

Xinyu craned her head over her shoulder, noting the way your body was reacting to Sohyun’s words. A small grin spread across her features, “I think he likes that idea.”

Sohyun looked over, pausing as she tightened a buckle on her hip to look over at you with her eyebrow raised. “Does he? Do you like the idea of mommy putting you in your place, huh? Reminding you that you work for us. That you belong to us.”

You moaned at her words, your cock twitching to life, brushing against Nakyoung’s stomach and she let out an amused gasp. “He definitely does.”

“Maybe we’ll keep that in mind, if we think you deserve it,” Sohyun smirked.

“Seriously though, he did good. Kaede would have been screwed without him,” Nakyoung added.

“I agree,” Xinyu pressed a kiss to your shoulder. Her arm snaked around you, her fingers curling around your cock as she began to stroke you slowly. “That’s why he’s getting this special reward tonight. Our brave boy. Isn’t that right, Sohyun?”

Finally done with her task, Sohyun turned to face you. And what a sight it was. She was nude, her body on display for your gaze as the light from the mirror behind her provided illumination. Your eyes traveled over her soft breast down further to where a strap on dildo was secured firmly on her crotch. Her fingers smoothed over it idly while she stayed at you. The look in her eye said nothing short of her wanting to devour you.

“Jesus, Sohyun…” Xinyu breathed out, clearly appreciating the view as much as you were.

“You have to wait your turn. It’s his night, remember?”

Xinyu nodded weakly, her grasp tightening around your cock and causing you to let out a pleased whimper. As you watched Sohyun grab the bottle of lube off of the dresser and begin to lather the dildo in preparation of what was to come, you couldn’t help but think of how you had gotten to this moment.

Not this moment specifically, sandwiched between two beauties with your cock out and a third beauty on the way. But rather how you became their baby boy as Xinyu had put it.

It started with Nakyoung. Before you had been involved with their group, you were merely a freelance repair man. In this day and age it was startling how many people didn’t know basic fixes for their tech, but it paid the bills so you weren’t one to complain. Nakyoung had been one of your customers, a regular one at that. You didn’t question it really. At first you had just assumed she was bad with tech. And even if she was a cute girl getting up to no good, well, that wasn’t any of your business.

Apparently it was that exact attitude that had proven you were trustworthy. It wasn’t long before Nakyoung came to you with a job. Then another. Soon after you met the rest of the gang – not that they referred to themselves as such. Eventually, you had become their full-time support, even learning how to tune their motorcycles to peak performance.

Was it illegal? A lot of it was, sure. But that hardly mattered. You felt safe and accepted with them. More than you ever had anywhere else.

Even now, as you watched Sohyun prepare herself for you, there was nowhere else you’d rather be.

“Nakyoung, why don’t you warm him up,” Sohyun said.

“Wasn’t I doing that already?” Xinyu asked.

“That was just the start,” Nakyoung quiped as she shifted back onto the bed. Her comforting gaze turned into a sultry look as she spread her legs for you. “It’s all yours.”

“You’re going to fuck her good, aren’t you?” Xinyu whispered, nibbling on your earlobe as she guided your cock towards Nakyoung’s entrance.

The sight of Nakyoung, looking at you with her large eyes and beckoning you forward struck a chord. Despite their repeated comments about this being your night, you felt a deep desire to bring her pleasure.

Her hand found yours, interlacing your fingers as you began to sink into her, Xinyu’s hands on your hips guiding you deeper and deeper. You tried to resist the shudder that ran through your body at the feeling of Nakyoung’s walls around you but to no avail. And how could you when she was taking you inch by inch with an angelic look on her features.

“She feels good doesn’t she?”

Xinyu’s question came as her touch lingered on your hips.

“Mhm,” was all you could manage in response along with a weak nod.

“So tight and perfect,” her hand stroked your hair. “And all yours.”

“Fuck…”

Nakyoung sighed as you bottomed out inside of her, filling her to the brim. Her legs moved around your waist, locking you in position as merely held each other for a long moment.

You knew what was coming. What was waiting for you once Sohyun finally got her hands on you. But for now you would focus on this. On Nakyoung’s pleasure and Xinyu’s guidance.

“Does it feel good?” you croaked out.

“So fucking good, baby,” Nakyoung moaned, her bangs splayed across her forehead as her head fell back. “So full.”

You felt Xinyu’s hand pressing against your lower back and took that as your cue to move. It was slow at first, tentatively drawing yourself out before stuffing her again. You weren’t necessarily inexperienced but it was safe to say that domination didn’t come naturally to you. And yet, this feeling – biting your bottom lip as Nakyoung’s nails dug into your forearm – was addicting.

They might’ve joked about you getting an ego from this but now you were starting to see why. Having this sight at your fingertips was enough to make any man addicted.

“More,” Nakyoung whined, her fingers dipping between her thighs to tease her clit. “Faster.”

You felt your hesitation steadily slipping away with each thrust, as your hips snapped faster. Eliciting delightful moans of pleasure from Nakyoung. It helped that you hand Xinyu nibbling on your earlobe, continuing to whisper sinful encouragement in your ear.

“Keep fucking her just like that baby,” Xinyu said, “Our little pillow princess making you do all the work.”

Your eyes focused on Nakyoung, her short hair splayed against the bed as she took every inch of you with short gasps. You couldn’t say Xinyu was wrong. She looked every bit the princess right now. But was that really such a bad thing?

Xinyu continued. “I’m going to make you feel even better.”

“W-what do you mean?”

You felt Xinyu press a kiss to your nape, then another against your shoulders and back. Your neck craned slightly to try and look over your shoulder, prompting a response from the woman beneath you. Nakyoung reached up, resting on one elbow as she turned your face to look at her.

“Hasn’t anyone told you it’s rude not to focus on the girl your dick is in?”

Your cheeks flushed at being called out. “S-sorry.”

To say it was overwhelming was an understatement.

There were two women drawing your attention in different ways and a third who hadn’t joined the party yet. And that was without getting into the ways Nakyoung’s walls were squeezing your cock each time you pushed into her, as if begging you to empty your load inside of her.

“Don’t worry about her,” Nakyoung insisted.

Which was hard to do when you felt Xinyu place another kiss, this time at the small of your back. Before you could question it any further, you felt something moist tickling your backdoor.

“Oh!” that was interesting, “Oh, fuck…” Your hips jerked involuntarily as you hunched over slightly.

“I think he likes it, Xinyu,” Nakyoung moaned.

Xinyu didn’t respond with words but rather with actions. Her tongue circled around your hole and your toes curled in response.

Xinyu’s tongue pressed against you with a slow, deliberate rhythm, each flick sending jolts of electricity up your spine. You gasped, your hips stuttering as you tried to maintain your pace with Nakyoung, but the dual sensations were overwhelming. Nakyoung’s walls clenched around you, her breath hitching as she felt you twitch inside her.

“Fuck, baby,” Nakyoung moaned, her voice trembling. “You’re getting so hard.”

Her nails dug into your shoulders, urging you to keep going even as your focus wavered. Xinyu’s tongue was relentless, teasing and probing, making it impossible to think straight. Your breath came in short, ragged bursts, and your hands gripped the sheets for stability.

“That’s it,” Xinyu murmured against your skin, her voice low and sultry. “Just relax, baby boy. Let me take care of you.”

Her tongue dipped back inside, and you let out a strangled groan, your hips jerking forward into Nakyoung again. Nakyoung giggled.

“God, you’re so sensitive,” Nakyoung teased, her fingers trailing down your chest. “How does Xinyu’s tongue feel, baby? Do you like what she’s doing to you? She’s getting you nice and ready for Sohyun, isn’t she?”

You shuddered, your hips stuttering as Xinyu’s tongue pressed deeper, more insistently. “Y-yes,” you managed to gasp, your voice trembling. “It feels… so good…”

Xinyu’s tongue circled your rim with a slow, deliberate rhythm, each flick sending jolts of electricity up your spine. Her hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as she worked you open with a practiced ease. You could feel the tension building in your lower belly, a coil threatening to snap, as your body responded to her every touch.

You felt her hand slide beneath you, her fingers gently nassaging your balls. The dual sensation was overwhelming—her tongue teasing your rim while her fingers applied just the right amount of pressure, sending sparks of pleasure through your body. You groaned, your hips twitching involuntarily, and Nakyoung let out a breathy laugh.

“Someone’s enjoying themselves,” she said, her legs tightening around your waist as you continued to stretch her out. Her walls clenched around you, warm and wet, as if urging you deeper. “You feel so good inside me, baby. But I think Xinyu’s the one really making you lose it, huh?”

You couldn’t argue. Xinyu’s tongue was relentless, her fingers working in perfect harmony to drive you wild. Every flick, every press, every gentle squeeze sent you closer to the edge. Your breath came in short, ragged gasps, and your fingers dug into Nakyoung’s hips as you tried to keep your rhythm.

“You’re doing so good,” Nakyoung whispered, her lips brushing against your ear. “But I think… I think you’re ready for more, aren’t you?”

You barely had time to process her words before you felt Xinyu pull away, leaving you achingly empty. You groaned at the loss, but before you could protest, you heard the soft click of a bottle cap and the slick sound of lube being applied. Your heart raced as you realized what was coming next.

“Stay just like that.”

Sohyun’s voice cut through the haze, as she moved across the room.

You froze, your hips still buried deep inside Nakyoung, her warmth enveloping you. Xinyu’s hands were on your hips again, steadying you as Sohyun moved behind you. You could feel the heat of her body as she pressed close, her breath warm against your back.

“You’ve been so good for us,” Sohyun murmured, “But now it’s my turn to reward you.”

Nakyoung’s hands slid up your chest, her touch soothing as she whispered, “Take deep breaths.”

You nodded, your throat too dry to speak. Sohyun’s hands gripped your hips, her fingers digging into your skin as she positioned herself. The weight of her presence behind you was overwhelming, and you could feel the cool tip of the strap-on pressing against your entrance.

“Ready?” she asked, her voice teasing.

You swallowed hard and nodded again. “Y-yes.”

Sohyun smirked, her hand gripping the base of the strap-on as she applied pressure. “Good boy.”

The first press was slow, deliberate, and you tensed instinctively. But Sohyun’s hands were firm, holding you in place as she leaned over you, her breath hot against your ear.

“Relax,” she said. “I’ve got you.”

You forced yourself to breathe, to let the tension seep out of your muscles. And then, with a slow, steady push, she was inside you. The stretch was intense, but the way she filled you sent a wave of pleasure crashing through your body. You moaned, your head falling forward as she bottomed out, your hips pressed flush against Nakyoung’s.

“Fuck,” you gasped, your hands clutching at Nakyoung’s shoulders. “Sohyun…”

She leaned over you, her chest pressing against your back as she whispered, “Sssh, you’re doing so well.”

Her voice was soft, almost tender, a stark contrast to the commanding tone she’d used earlier. Her breath was warm against your ear, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow. You could feel her weight against you, the heat of her skin, the way her body molded to yours. It was grounding, comforting even, as you adjusted to the fullness of her inside you.

A beat passed, and you felt yourself starting to relax, the initial intensity giving way to a deeper, more insistent pleasure. Sohyun’s hands smoothed over your hips, her touch firm but gentle.

“I’m going to move now,” she murmured, “Just keep breathing for me, baby boy.”

Her hips pulled back slowly, dragging a whimper from your lips, before she thrust forward again, deeper this time. The sensation of being filled from both ends was overwhelming, and you could feel Nakyoung’s walls clenching around you in response.

“Oh god,” Nakyoung moaned, her nails digging into your arms. “You feel so good… both of you…”

Xinyu’s hands were on your back now, her touch light and teasing as she watched the scene unfold. “Look at him,” she said, her voice filled with awe. “Taking it like a champ.”

Sohyun’s pace quickened, her thrusts becoming more deliberate, more demanding. Each movement sent shockwaves through your body, and you could feel yourself losing control, your hips moving in time with hers. Nakyoung’s moans grew louder, her legs tightening around your waist as she urged you deeper.

“That’s right,” Sohyun growled, her hands gripping your hips tighter. “He loves Mommy’s strap.”

Sohyun’s thrusts were relentless, each one hitting a spot inside you that made your toes curl and your breath hitch. It was a kind of pleasure you hadn’t known you could feel, let alone crave. The stretch, the fullness, the way she dominated you—it was overwhelming in the best way. You were completely at her mercy, and you loved it.

Nakyoung’s walls clenched around you, her body trembling as she neared her own peak. “Fuck, baby,” she gasped, her nails digging into your shoulders. “You feel so good… so deep…”

To the side, Xinyu had settled onto the edge of the bed, her legs spread as she touched herself. Her fingers moved in slow, deliberate circles, her eyes locked on the scene before her.

“Look at him,” she gasped, “Isn’t he perfect?”

Sohyun’s hands tightened on your hips, her thrusts growing harder, deeper.

“He is,” she agreed, her voice rough with desire. “Our perfect little toy. Aren’t you, baby?”

You could only nod, your voice lost in a moan as Sohyun’s strap-on brushed against that spot inside you again. Your hips jerked involuntarily, and Nakyoung let out a sharp cry, her body arching against yours.

“Two cocks, and I’m stuck with my hand,” Xinyu pouted, her fingers moving faster, her breath hitching as she teased herself. Her eyes flicked to you, a playful glint in them as she bit her lip. “Not fair, is it?”

Nakyoung let out a breathy laugh, her hips rolling against yours as she tightened around you. “Maybe you should try taking two next time,” she teased, her grin wicked. “See how well you handle it.”

The image popped into your mind, vivid and intoxicating: Xinyu, her body arched and trembling, stretched to her limit as she took two cocks at once. One of them could be yours—the thought alone sent a jolt of heat straight to your core. You could almost hear her gasps, see the way her nails would dig into the sheets, the way her lips would part in a silent scream as she was filled completely. The fantasy was so vivid, so real, that it ripped a moan from your throat, your cock swelling inside Nakyoung as your hips jerked involuntarily.

“Oh?” Xinyu’s voice was a purr, her fingers slowing as she caught the way your body reacted. “Someone likes that idea, don’t they?” She tilted her head, her smirk growing wider as she watched you. “Maybe next time, baby boy, you can be the one to help me out. Think you can handle that?”

You couldn’t respond, your mind too hazy with desire, but the way your cock twitched inside Nakyoung was answer enough.

“You’re distracting him!” Nakyoung’s hands cupped your face, forcing you to look at her. Her eyes were dark with desire, her lips parted as she panted. “Focus, baby,” she urged. “I’m so close…Fuck, I want to feel you…all of you…”

Not to be forgotten, you felt Sohyun press deep into you.

“You’re going to come for me, aren’t you?” she growled, her thrusts never slowing. “You’re going to fill Nakyoung up like a good boy. Show Mommy how much you love her cock.”

The combination of their voices, their touches, their demands—it was too much. Your hips stuttered, your rhythm faltering as pleasure overtook you. With a cry, you came, your body trembling as you spilled yourself inside Nakyoung. She cried out, her own climax crashing over her as she held you close.

Sohyun didn’t stop, her movements slowing but still relentless as she rode out your high.

“Good boy,” she murmured, her voice soft now, almost tender. “So good for us.”

Xinyu let out a breathless sob, her fingers pulled from her own snatch and coated in her juices. “That was beautiful.”

Sohyun’s hands slid up your back, her touch gentle now as she leaned over you. “You did so well,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. Her movements came to a slow stop, her body still pressed against yours as she held you close. “You worked so hard for this reward, baby boy. I’m proud of you.”

Her voice was soft, almost reverent, as she smoothed her hands over your skin, her touch soothing and grounding. “You took everything so perfectly,” she murmured, her lips brushing against your ear. “Our good boy. Our perfect boy.”

“Fuck…”

You whimpered in response, your body still shaking from the aftershocks. Beneath you, Nakyoung seemed to be in a similar state of exhaustion. But even as that exhaustion threatened to pull you under, you knew you wouldn’t have it any other way.

A few weeks later…

“Look at you, taking his cock so well, aren’t you?”

Sohyun’s voice was low and commanding, her hand resting lightly on Xinyu’s throat as she guided her movements. Xinyu was seated atop her, Sohyun’s strap buried deep in her ass, while you stood in front, filling her from the other side. Xinyu’s head was tilted back, her lips parted in a breathless moan as she took you both, her body trembling with the effort.

You couldn’t help but marvel at the sight—Xinyu, usually so playful and teasing, now completely at the mercy of Sohyun’s control and your rhythm. Her nails dug into Sohyun’s thighs as she rocked back and forth, her breath hitching every time you thrust into her. The room was filled with the sound of skin against skin, of gasps and whispered praises, and you felt a surge of pride knowing you were a part of this.

You couldn’t help but reflect on how that night had changed everything.

Before, you had been the hacker, the mechanic, the one who kept their bikes running and their operations smooth. But now? Now you were something far more undefined, something deeper. You were theirs—not just a tool, but a part of their world in a way you hadn’t imagined possible.

And it wasn’t just your role in the gang that had shifted. In the bedroom, you had grown in confidence, learning to read their cues, to take control when they wanted you to, and to surrender when they demanded it. It was a dance, one you were still learning, but every moment with them felt like a step closer to mastering it.

“That’s it,” Sohyun murmured, her hand tightening slightly on Xinyu’s throat. “Take him just like that. Such a good girl for us.”

Xinyu’s eyes fluttered open, locking onto yours as she moaned. “Fuck, baby,” she gasped, her voice trembling. “You feel so good… so deep…”

Her words sent a tingle down your spine, and you couldn’t help but smirk, your confidence growing with every thrust. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you teased, your hands gripping her hips as you guided her movements.

Sohyun let out a low laugh, her free hand sliding up Xinyu’s side. “Look at him,” she said, her tone dripping with approval. “Our little hacker, all grown up.”

The praise sent a rush of warmth through you, and you couldn’t help but lean into it, your thrusts growing more deliberate, more confident. Xinyu’s moans grew louder, her body tightening around you as she approached her climax..

“That’s it,” Sohyun encouraged, her voice a low purr. “Make her come for us, baby boy. Show her what you’ve learned.”

Sohyun didn’t need to tell you twice.

Your movements became harder, rougher, as you aimed to drive Xinyu toward her release. You had quickly learned that Xinyu, for all her teasing and bravado, was every bit the princess of the gang that she accused Nakyoung of being. Sure, she could be an active participant when she wanted to, but there was something about the way she melted under your touch, the way she begged and gasped, that made it clear she loved being taken care of just as much as she loved taking control.

“Look at her,” Sohyun purred, her hand still resting on Xinyu’s throat, her thumb brushing lightly against her pulse. “So greedy, isn’t she? Couldn��t even wait for Nakyoung to join us.”

You found Sohyun’s words amusing, a smirk tugging at your lips.

In the weeks since that first night, none of the three women had seemed keen on sharing you with anyone else in the gang. It was always the four of you, a closed circle of trust and desire. You weren’t complaining—far from it. But it was hard not to notice the way they kept you to themselves, as if you were their little secret.

There had been a moment, not long after that first night, when Nien and Yubin had approached you with flirtatious smiles and suggestive comments. You’d been flattered, of course, but before you could even respond, Sohyun had appeared out of nowhere, quickly causing the other girls to scatter.

“Fuck!”

Xinyu’s moans grew louder, breaking you from your thoughts. Her voice was more desperate, her body trembling as she neared her peak.

“Please, daddy,” she gasped, her nails digging into Sohyun’s thighs. “Finish inside me…make me come…I need it, daddy, please…”

Her use of the word sent a jolt of heat through you, and you obliged, your thrusts growing faster, more urgent.

“You love this, don’t you?” you egged her on, your own release teetering on the edge, “Taking me and Sohyun at the same time, stuffed full like the hungry little cock slut you are. You’re so good for us, baby. Come on, come for us. Let go.”

You could feel her tightening around you, her body on the edge, and with one final, deep thrust, you pushed her over. Xinyu cried out, her back arching as she came, her walls clenching around you in waves of pleasure. The sensation was too much, and with a groan, you followed her over the edge, spilling yourself inside her as your hips stuttered against hers.

For a moment, the room was filled with nothing but the sound of ragged breaths and the occasional shuddering gasp. Sohyun’s hand slid from Xinyu’s throat to her shoulder, her touch gentler.

“Good girl,” she murmured,“You did so well.”

Xinyu could only nod weakly, her body still trembling as she leaned back against Sohyun, her chest rising and falling with each breath.

And then, as if on cue, the door swung open. Nakyoung stood in the doorway, a pizza box in one hand and her mouth half-open mid-sentence.

“I hope you like pepperoni—” she started, before her words caught in her throat. Her eyes widened as she took in the scene: Xinyu still straddling Sohyun’s strap-on, your cock slowly slipping out of her as she caught her breath, and the general state of disarray that suggested exactly what had just happened.

For a moment, there was silence. Then Nakyoung’s voice cut through the room, sharp and incredulous.

“You started without me?!”

Sohyun let out a low chuckle, her hand still resting on Xinyu’s shoulder as she shot Nakyoung a tired but amused smile.

“She couldn’t wait,” Sohyun said, her tone dry but playful.

You couldn’t help but laugh, your own smile mirroring Sohyun’s as you leaned back, catching your breath. Xinyu, still half-delirious from her climax, tilted her head toward Nakyoung and gave a lazy wave.

“Hey, Naky~” she slurred, her voice dripping with satisfaction.

Nakyoung sighed, shaking her head as she set the pizza box down on a nearby table. “Unbelievable,” she muttered, though the corner of her mouth twitched as if she were fighting a smile. “I leave for twenty minutes…”

As you watched the three of them—Sohyun’s calm amusement, Xinyu’s blissed-out grin, and Nakyoung’s mock exasperation—you couldn’t help but think that this life, chaotic and unpredictable as it was, wasn’t so bad at all.

#triples smut #sohyun smut #nakyoung smut #xinyu smut #male reader #idol x male reader #kpop smut #girl group smut

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ghostyydoll · 4 hours ago

Text

I find the institutes flavour of evil to be so fucking weird, specific and boring that in my own canon I try to frame them in a 'Think Tank' sort of light after spilling out the Big MT. Really harp on the fact that this was an independent scientific faction that very likely worked as far away from the government as possible to do research, develop and do right by the post-apocalypse that had then fell down the pitfalls of superiority as time went on. They became more seclusionist, and as such their empathy for the 'dying' world above waned - and as they began to lack room for research, as they started to prod on fields that have no part in their original goal of rebuilding (or providing the tool for rebuilding), the wasteland became their research ground.

I genuinely think the synth project could have been conceptualised to re-populate the world in case the great war did straight up wipe everyone out (or pretty much everyone) getting brilliant, trust worthy minds in the community to upload their consciousness to contribute to this re-population scheme. Beyond that, staying below ground to wait it out like people in the vaults, preparing medicine, developing better nuclear waste protection, etc, etc. Besides the broken mask incident and the occasional unnamed NPCs that talk about having lost loved ones to becoming synths, that's the biggest, scariest evil that the institute is????? they make no other impact on the Commonwealth besides that. If the synth replacements are surveillance for large scale experimentation (Such as the Mayor and Roger Warwick) then i don't really understand why Allison from hole in the ground™ needs to be kidnapped and replaced? surely making synths is a resource heavy process and (as we know) they gather their resources from topside. I propose the Institute uses the topside MORE OBVIOUSLY as their experiment dumping ground and trash bin; it gives us a much more clear view of their inarguable distaste for the wasteland and the people that inhabit it. lab curated diseases like plagues that alter the very ground they infect, new, terrifying monsters as a result of any sort of experimentation, settlements that have been straight up levelled through weaponry testing - thus, the synth project becomes a necessity for their surveillance because they want to see how wastelanders react to different...'stimuli'.

Additionally it gives a bit more of a reason for there to be tension about the railroads mission; the wasteland knows them as the people who are taking the fight to the institute (and save synths on the side), but their main focus isn't cleaning up after the institute, it's just the synths, and i think wastelanders would feel a bit shafted having to deal with the other HUUUGE major problems dumped into their laps (plus there's also the railroads really...weird thing against wastelanders as whole as if they aren't scared/dying/etc but that's another thing entierly LOL).

I hate the institute for what they do to synths...but i don't understand why they dance around the institute being evil evil when they are so OBVIOUSLY worse than they are presented to be. The Institute is the wasteland hating BAD faction that you join if you don't like the brotherhood (lmao). Make it that way.

Anyway, this was a massive ramble, and i'm sure lots of the sentences make no sense BUT yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

greetings. i am shaun. your son. and this is an android modeled after myself. as a cherubic little rascal of age ten. that i built. and i cannot stress this enough. specifically to traumatize you. welcome to the institute

#fallout 4 #the institute #sole survivor #shaun fallout 4 #They're so dissapointing #This is honestly the best i got LOL

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elodieunderglass · 1 day ago

Note

I hope your evening is better than your day was. ✨💫

In reference to me haggardly saying in the tags that after the day I’d had, everything (horrible things with legs) that my loved ones (you guys) were doing to heal me (send me horrible things with legs) was a help. And it was. And you are.

It was a tough old month already. But it’s all swings-and-roundabouts, snakes-and-ladders, win-some-lose-some, 🫴🫳.

I sleep about 9 hours in 48 at the moment, which is not especially great, owing to the Wretchedness of Mouse (2), a largely nocturnal animal. But then when Mouse is awake at Mouse o’Clock and quietly pottering around on Mouse Business, there isn’t much I can usefully do, so I’m just curled up with Dr Glass’s tablet, peacefully drawing Killie the jockey OC. As a result I’ve realised something massive for me, that my creativity is THERE, but fuelled by self-indulgence! Like, with stuff like fanfic projects and Killie, there was always a lot of “mental braking” on before, with me anticipating (based on evidence experience of posting my writing online for mumblety-many years) how much people would dislike it - put the brakes on, Elodie, we can’t let the haters know that we yearn. But hey, I started rambling on about fics and my own OCs, and YES it’s probably startling and annoying for some people and I do apologise, but ALSO you’ve all been very kind, and I think that it’s better for me to have the brakes off. 4 am takes notwithstanding, it’s better to have the brakes off. So what if I’m cringe and occasionally annoying - I have paid my dues and done my duties.

The new shed at the allotment blew down, but we have been forgiven for our carelessness in allowing it to happen, and two people on the committee have approached me with kindness - one committee member even stopping me in a shop to tell me, “people want to help you, Elodie, we’re your friends, you know.” Citation needed, but there you go.

Saturdays are always made especially for me dreadful by taking children to swimming lessons, on foot both ways, but usually we walk on to meet friends for coffee after. I go out with my friends and play board games with our neighbours and have learned how to play Wingspan.

Dr Glass received an official diagnosis of ME, but I bought a robot vacuum in the strength of that - saying, well, why assume things will ever get easier? Let’s get easy now! - and actually I really like having a robot vacuum!!

There have been more causes than I could help with, but my promotion has strengthened the coffers, so this month I’ve been able to donate to a few!

Due to childcare falling through, I had to take all three kids to an antifash protest in the cold and was dreading it - the walking, the whining, is it going to be awkward, i trust the organisers but HE’S not bringing his kids, GOD. But then my neighbour and her giant puppy came with us! on purpose! And we knew a lot of people there and the kids played.

I had to buy some clothes for work, and I never buy anything new (never having money) and was scared I’d get it wrong (stupid and weird) but I buckled up and bought these: https://www.disturbia.co.uk/products/rosamoth-button-up-midi-skirt https://www.disturbia.co.uk/products/swamplife-frog-embroidered-linen-blend-high-waist-midaxi-skirt

And it sounds bonkers, but the amount of people at work, etc, who have come up and instantly allied themselves with me on the strength of Frog Skirt / Moth Skirt has strengthened my convictions. Strongly recommend Frog Skirt / Moth Skirt and their emotional equivalents if you hit a stage of career where you need to suddenly level up.

I am thinking about counterweights. And kindness. And the balance of the turning world. And the light in the sky coming back. And, unfortunately, Killie, but he’s a counterweight too; sure, he’s awful, but we already know he contains the seeds of becoming okay.

As evidence suggests that many things do.

Thank you for your shining kindness, and my love back to you 💫

#personal life screaming into cup

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scorpioriesling · 3 days ago

Note

OML so good things come it groups of three has had me in a headlock and I don’t want to escape. I have trieddddddd so very hard to find scraps of smth like it and I found nothing😔. So here I am wondering if we the people can get another Liam/Ridoc/Bodhi (or another combination of fw guys if ur feeling silly) x Reader PLEASE 🙏. If you wanna make it a part two or a whole new thing idc Ill eat whatever you give me your writing is AMAZING.

-🎀Anon

Good Things Come in Groups of Three (Round 2)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Liam x Ridoc x Bodhi x reader

Warning(s): 18+, mdni, smut

Summary: Studying in the library late at night has your mind wandering… you can blame it on the time of night, the lack of sleep, or simply being alone. Regardless of the excuse, you can’t seem to put those 3 boys out of your mind.

SR’s Note: Thank you for your patience, queen. (; I hope this part 2 measures up to your expectations!! Also, I don’t want to spoil anything, but I do have this group of 3 + reader involved once again!! It’s only a draft right now for Kinktober… so you definitely don’t want to miss out!

Tags: @mellowmusings @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @kitsunetori @velarisdusk (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Your eyes roved over the text, trying to commit it to memory. Jesinia had done you a solid, pulling some of the best tomes for you to study before your test on Friday. Her expertise not only a scribe, but as your friend just might be what saved your grade.

If you could keep your mind from wandering, that is.

You'd caught yourself thinking, more than once, about the utterly insane predicament you'd found yourself in last week. It seemed that every time you turned a page in the textbook, images would race through your mind, each one as dirty as the last.

Liam fucking you in the shower.

Sitting atop Ridoc's face.

Bodhi's dick filling your throat.

...fuck.

You shake your head, the memory only sending more uncomfortable sensations to your core. This wasn't the time, nor the place -- nowhere, would ever be the time or place again. That was a one and done deal; one you'd be much too embarassed to repeat.

As your palms press into your eyes, you turn your attention to the wall clock, trying to make out the numbers it read.

11:57 pm.

Dammit, you hadn't wanted to be here this late. Perhaps all the reading and pouring over the material was good though, as you felt much more prepared for your upcoming exam. However, you'd failed to notice everyone emptying out of the library over the past few hours.

Your breath catches as you glance around, the dark silence of the hall sending a shiver down your spine. You were right, no one was here at this hour; it was simply you, and the stacks of books.

Book stacks you wouldn't mind being fucked against.

Okay, you really had to stop.

Glancing around once more, you slunk down into your chair a little lower, your fingers slowly leaving the table in favor of tracing along your leather pants. The pressure was getting unbearable, every moment of your past rendezvouz replaying in your mind as your panties grew wetter and wetter.

Ridoc's dick felt so good when he made you ride him.

You unzipped your leathers, your fingers slowly making their way underneath. A sigh escapes your lips as your fingertips brush your clothed clit, moving in small circles atop your panties.

Fuck... the sight of Liam jerking off to you too.

A soft whimper leaves your lips, your eyes widening into slits as you glance around one more time. You just had to make sure, certainly, that no one was in here.

Oh Gods... and Bodhi, spanking your ass-

"You do know this is a, public, space, don't you?"

Your eyes fly open, the figure standing just in the shadows of the nearby bookshelf causing your heart to race. Your hand flies from your pants as you shimmy in your chair, working to rezip.

"O-oh my Gods, uhm, oh my Gods-" you fumble, your vision blurred in embarassment as you stare down at your pants. Why wouldn't the damned zipper just fucking work, already?

Your breath hitches as a large, tanned hand moves atop yours. Your cheeks deepen in color, chest still rising and falling as the adrenaline courses through your veins.

"As your trainer," Bodhi says, his voice low. "I'd tell you to fix yourself, and send you to your dorm to finish this matter in private. Alone."

Your eyes slowly look up, meeting his darkened brown ones as he glares at you.

"But, as an interested party, I'm going to tell you to keep going."

You loose a shaky breath, his unforgiving stare a cross between anger and intrigue. You open your mouth to speak, but Bodhi's hand pushes your shoulder back against the back of the chair.

"Don't say a word, Y/N -- you got caught being a bad, bad girl." He tuts, leaning back to sit in the chair next to you. "Now, you answer to me."

You gulp, staying put as he stretches his legs out before him and gets comfortable, folding his muscled arms over his chest. He couldn’t possibly be serious!

"Keep going." He bites out, and you stare at him wide-eyed.

He scoffs. "What, now you can't hear, either? I said keep going." Your fingers fuddle with the waistband of your pants, shaking as you shove your leathers down to your knees.

"Mhm... play with that pussy, like the bad girl you fuckin' are."

Your fingers find your clit once more, the pleasure mounting in your core as Bodhi's eyes are glued to your every move. In an attempt to stifle your moan, your lip catches between your teeth, muffling the whimper. He's hovering over you in an instant, his hand braced against the back of your chair as his lips move mere inches from yours.

"Why so quiet tonight, hm?" He taunts, and you glare up at him as a wave of defiance rushes through you.

"B-because... it's a.. library." You grit out, failing to think of any other comeback. He laughs, full and unabashedly as he shakes his head low, his eyes meeting yours once more.

"You didn't seem to care that this is a library when you started playing with your cunt, though." He draws in a breath, his gaze flickering between your underwear and your face. "Bad riders don't get rewarded, Y/N... they only get punished."

Your heart races as two more figures appear from the shadows, their hungry gazes trained on you and your minstrations. A small swallow in fear is all Bodhi needs before his hands grip at your waist, hauling you atop the table and sending the books scattering to the floor.

"B-Bodhi... what-"

"Ohh, don't act like this isn't what you wanted," Ridoc sneers from beside you. He leans casually against the bookshelf, the obvious tent in his pants indication that maybe he wanted this to happen too.

"Oh, she wanted it alright," Bodhi huffs, grabbing your pants and roughly yanking them down your legs. He shucks your boots off, tossing them over his shoulder before ripping your pants over your feet. "Caught her playing with herself all alone in here."

Liam tsks, flanking the other side of the table as he watches in faux-disappointment. Had they all arranged this? Had they known you'd be in here?

"I-I..."

"Keep your mouth shut," Bodhi demands, yanking his own pants down just enough for his enormous erection to spring free. Your mouth waters at the sight; you'd forgotten how damn big he was.

"You're gonna work off this little violation, alright?" He chuckles, pulling you to the edge of the table so just your ass hung off the wood. His hand wraps around his cock, pumping it twice before sliding it against your soaking folds. You whimper, and he glares down at you.

"And... you'll be quiet if I say so, alright?" He chuckles, pressing the tip of his dick against your hole. "This is, after all, a library."

The sound threatening to erupt as he slides all the way in can only be described as nothing short of a deafening scream. He pushes himself all the way in, his pelvis flat against your thighs as you try and keep your noises at bay. Wasting no time, he yanks his cock out, only to slam back in with so much force that a small wail breaks free.

"Fuck... tight as fuck Y/N," he comments, speeding up as he fucks himself into you. "Squeezing my goddamned dick, baby."

You moan, the sound mixed with the creaking of the table beneath you. Bodhi's breaths come out in short pants above you, his gaze locked onto where his thick length is pounding into you.

"I... oh Gods," you cry out, your heaed turning to the side as you catch sight of Liam beside you. His tongue rakes across his bottom lip, his own cock hardening beneath his palm. The sight alone could make you cum, especially with the way Bodhi is pounding into you-

"Don't you dare cum," he growls, his hands bracing against your hips as he shoves you closer to him. Your gaze switches back to him as he leans over you, each stroke faster than the last as he barely pulls out anymore. "You're not cumming... not fucking yet."

You whimper as his mouth falls open above you, his eyes half-lidded as his thrusts grow sloppy. Your own impending orgasm has built up, threatening to burst any moment inside of you.

"B-Bodhi-"

"Fuck!' He shouts, your skin flush against his as his cock jumps, pumping his release inside of you. His breathing is heavy, his chest moving rapidly underneath the restraint of his zipped flight jacket. Your face twists in frustration, the heat in your lower tummy already receding as he yanks his cock out of you, a trail of clear semen following.

Sitting up on your hands, you only catch your breath for a minute before Liam saunters toward you, a cocky smile plastered on his face. His hands grip your knees, forcing your legs apart as you try and squeeze them together.

"You're not getting off that easy tonight -- I hope you've realized that."

You stare up at the gorgeous male; a dark, starved look crossing his features as he peers down at you. Your chest heaves as he slowly sits before you, only taking perch on the edge of the chair.

Goosebumps erupt across your skin as he leans forward, his lips mere inches from your glistening cunt -- and blows a stream of cool air across your skin. You clench around nothing, the sensation both extremely erotic and frustrating at the same time.

"Liam, please-"

"Ahh ahh," Bodhi tuts, leaning agaist a nearby table. "I said no mouthing off tonight, remember?"

Liam's dimple pops as he smiles, his handsome features only making you wish your cunt was pressed against his lips. You lie back down as he licks his lips once, his fingers softly trailing along the skin of your thighs. You whimper as he continues toying with you, barely able to keep your writhing at bay.

"Is this... what you want?" He says quietly, as his forefinger presses against your clit. You gasp, sitting up on your forearms to look down at his smug expression.

"Yes... oh Gods, please yes-" You grit out, as his digit slowly circles your clit. You squirm against the touch, wishing for more as he slides his finger around your sensitive bud.

"This isn't about you, though." He says, chuckling as he retracts his finger. He glances up at you before rising between your legs, his hands gripping your waist to flip you over onto your stomach. You gasp as your chest presses against the flat wood, and your stomach drops at the sight before you.

Ridoc stands on the other side of the table, his hand fisting his cock furiously as he gazes down at you.

"Open."

It's all you need to hear before widening your mouth, laying your tongue out flat just like he'd like it.

"Fuck... been waiting for this for damn near a week," he complains, slapping his length against your wet muscle. You squeak in pleasure as you feel Liam behind you, his fingers circling your pulsating opening.

"So wet, baby," he coos, as his ring and middle finger plunge into your aching pussy. He plunges them in, again and again-- the embarassing squelch of your vagina gripping his digits bringing a flush to your cheeks.

Ridoc's free hand caresses your chin, guiding his hard length to your awaiting mouth. You suck in a breath as he sinks his cock in, pushing it to the back of your throat as he groans. Gagging around him, he retracts, shoving back in moments later.

"Gods, Y/N -- you've been saving up for us, hm?" You hear the grin in Liam's voice, your cunt pulsating as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you. Unable to speak as Ridoc continues fucking your mouth, you only groan in response.

Liam curls his fingers, the tips rubbing against the sensitive spot inside -- you feel as though you'll explode. You huff out a breath, tears forming in your eyes as Ridoc continues assaulting your throat. The combined sensations are too much, your orgasm building with each minstration.

"It's a good thing you're so sexy," he laughs, patting you on the cheek with his free hand. "You've been on my mind all week, baby."

Liam retracts his fingers, and you cry out in frustration. Ridoc pulls out too, the emptiness on either end leaving you hot, bothered, and again, unreleased.

"Don't worry," Ridoc chuckles. "We still have more we want from you."

He appears on the opposite side of the table, standing where Liam just was, his open palm landing a harsh slap against the meat of your ass. You whine, only wishing he'd pleasure you more.

You don't have to beg much.

His hands clench around your hips, drawing you up onto your knees and forearms on the table. You wail again as he spanks you, clenching only when you feel his erection slapping against your cunt.

"You want me, huh?" He teases, landing another slap when you don't respond. "You want me to fuck you?"

You scream in pleasure, glancing behind you to watch as he slides his cock in.

"Yes, please Ridoc! Please fuck me-"

Your words are cut short as a hand wraps around your throat, yanking your head to look before you. Liam chuckles, his hands quickly finding your breast as he stands beside Bodhi -- who's guiding his cock to your lips.

"I told you," he grumbles. "Bad girls... have to be quiet."

He shoves his length in, choking you as he pushes down your throat. Liam pulls your hair, keeping your mouth in place as Bodhi fucks his dick down your raw throat. Ridoc pants from behind you, his girth reaching unimaginable depths inside your quaking pussy.

"You like that, huh?" Bodhi shakes his head, plunging his cock deeper in your mouth. "Like taking my cock while Ridoc fucks you?"

Another wave of pleasure racks your bones, the feeling of their dicks in two of your holes almost more than you can take. You gurgle around Bodhi's length as Ridoc's balls slap against your clit, heightening your senses even more.

"Can't... can't take much more," you garble out, and Liam's fingers pinch your nipple.

"You'll take, what we give you."

You squeak, tears threatening to spill over as you try your hardest to keep your orgasm at bay. Your walls clench around Ridoc's big cock, each thrust pushing you closer, and closer...

He cums with a gasp, hot ropes of his release splattering across your ass. He heaves as he squeezes your right buttcheek, his spent cock resting against the other. Bodhi grits his teeth before releasing as well, his seed spraying down your throat. He yanks his cock out, and Liam moves to hold your jaw as you muster a cough.

"Swallow it all," he commands, and you do as your told. Bodhi retreats, resting lazily in a chair as the aftermath of his orgasm washes over him.

If only you could feel the same.

You gulp down his salty-sweet taste, your muscles growing tired after your night of pleasure. Well... as much pleasure as you were allowed, orgasm-denial and all.

Liam pulls you off the table, holding you upright as he slowly backs you into one of the shadowed bookshelves. You groan again as he kneels before you, Bodhi and Ridoc flanking your either side.

"We've had our fun with you... do you think you deserve to cum?"

You nod your head at his sultry words, and he doesn't even look away from your glistening pussy as he speaks to the other two.

"Do you think she deserves to cum?"

Bodhi tuts while reaching for your chest, openly palming your left breast.

“I suppose she’s been quite good for us tonight.”

Liam nods in agreement, his lips pressing a single kiss against your folds. Your hips involuntarily buck in protest, a short moan coming out as Ridoc rolls your other nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Shhhh.. patience, baby.”

His voice alone could get you off, such contrast to his usually irritating tone.

Liam’s tongue flicks out, swiping across your cunt as he rolls his thumb over your clit. You squirm, your breaths coming out in quick bursts.

“L-Liam I… won’t last long-“

He chuckles, the vibration edging you further. Ridoc replaces his fingers with his mouth, leaning in to suck and mark your right breast with his teeth. You lean your head back against the shelves, the feeling of ecstasy finally within reach.

“You wanna cum, Y/N?” Bodhi’s breath skates across your skin, goosebumps arising just below your ear as he squeezes your breast partially hard.

“Such a little tease with these gorgeous things,” he continues, and you begin shaking, the feeling of the orgasm within reach.

“Oh FUCK, I’m-“

Ridoc’s hand claps over your mouth as Bodhi holds you upright. You tremble and shake atop Liam’s tongue, the pent up energy from all night finally reaching its sweet release. Liam’s hands reach around and squeeze your ass, holding you in place as you cum on his lips.

“Anybody in here?”

Your eyes widen, heartbeat quickening as you hear the male guard’s voice ring out through the otherwise empty library. Your eyes meet Bodhi’s, and he holds a single finger to his lips. Shh.

“Hello?”

The voice calls again, and the three of you stand in silence against the darkness from the shelves. After a few minutes, the entry door opens and closes once more, and you finally release a breath.

“Well… that was close,” you laugh, the first real sentence you’d uttered in hours. Surely the sunlight would be peeking through the windows anytime now…

You step toward your discarded clothes, making to grab them and put them on when a strong arm wraps around your waist, holding you tightly against a very bare, very toned chest.

“Oh come on — you didn’t think we were actually finished here, did you?”

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inkedinshadows · 3 days ago

Note

For the requests: "I would certainly take all night" with Eris, please. I would be forever indebted to you. Can be smut or not, write it however you want! :)

Held in Firelight

Pairing: Eris x f!reader

A/N: Hi! No need to be indebted, don't worry! I just hope you'll like this bc I really liked this idea but I wrote it after six hours of class so it might not be my best work. I also don't know how to label it because it's a bit fluffy with a tiny sprinkle of angst and allusions to smutty bits? Idk idk I really like it tho

Warnings: arranged marriage, cheating (but the parties involved are aware so idk)

Word count: 1k

“I think he has a new lover.”

Your words cut through the comfortable silence that had settled over the sitting room. Eris raised a brow, but you continued to stir the wine in your glass, your eyes fixed on the swirling red liquid.

The silence stretched, broken only by the crackling embers in the fireplace. Eventually, he asked, “What makes you think that?”

You shrugged one shoulder. “He spent every night out this week. He doesn't do that if he's just sleeping around. He still comes home.”

Eris hummed, as if contemplating your answer.

These were your favorite moments—when Eris didn’t have court duties to attend to and could spend hours talking and drinking with you. It was your favorite way to ease the stress and tension of the life you had been forced into.

“He was out even two nights ago?”

You looked up at him. The firelight flickered on the side of his face, turning his hair into molten copper. You felt a sudden urge to reach across the couch and run your fingers through it.

“Yeah,” you replied. “Why do you ask?”

“It was your birthday,” he stated simply.

“So?”

He looked startled. “You really don’t care that he forgot?”

You sighed, setting your glass down. “Eris, he hasn't remembered my birthday in years.”

He didn’t reply, but his jaw clenched. You couldn’t tell if the flames in his eyes were just a reflection of the fire or if it was that simmering power of his.

With another sigh, you pressed on. “Let’s say he remembers,” you said. “Then what? You really believe he would spend the whole night with me, taking his sweet time to make me feel cherished, at least on my birthday?” You shook your head, the mere thought making you scoff. “No, I prefer it this way. He doesn't care about me, I don't care about him, and there's no point in pretending we do.”

Eris remained silent, his gaze fixed on the fireplace, his fingers clutching the stem of his glass so tightly you thought it might break. You knew he cared about you, that he hated your situation as much as you did, but even he couldn’t change it. Maybe once he became High Lord he’d banish arranged marriages and spare others from this fate, but it was too late for you.

Picking up your glass again, you tucked your legs beneath you and settled back against the pillows. You took a sip of wine, hoping that its rich taste might offer an excuse to change the topic, but you came up empty. You’d already commented on the flavor when he opened the bottle.

“I would certainly take all night.”

His voice was quiet, almost thoughtful, but when you turned to look at him, he was still facing away from you.

“What?” you blurted out. Surely, you had heard that wrong.

Finally, his eyes met yours, determined and unflinching. “I would take all night with you,” he repeated, “I would cherish you. And not just on your birthday.”

Your breath hitched. There had been a few lingering touches, a brush of fingers, words whispered after one too many glasses of wine. But never like this—so plain and blatant, so unguarded.

“Don't say that,” you murmured.

“Why not?” His eyes bore into you, pinning you in place. There was no escape—not that you wanted one. “We both want it.”

He was right. There was no arguing with that. Yet you still shook your head. “Eris, we can't.”

He moved closer. You didn’t resist when he took your glass and set it on the small table alongside his. An empty bottle stood next to an unopened one.

“Why not?” he asked again, his voice gentler now. “Just because you’re married? How many other females has he been with?”

Countless.

Maybe Eris was right about that too. Maybe you didn’t owe loyalty to a husband you had never wanted—a husband who had never been loyal to you. If he could have all the females he wanted, then maybe you could have the one male you wanted. The one person who always understood you, who never judged or mistreated you.

“When was the last time someone made you feel cherished?” Eris’s hand covered yours, his slender fingers intertwining with your own, squeezing once. “Made you feel good?”

You had never thought about your marriage in those terms. You had never wanted that union in the first place, so you had clung to the small things. Time away from your husband was good. You hadn’t shared a bed in a long time, and your conversations were awkward and stiff enough that the thought of intimacy hadn't crossed your mind in years. And you’d told yourself that was good enough.

But deep down, it had never really felt good.

Eris was still looking at you, his expression soft and understanding. As if he could see your every thought.

You looked away, unable to stomach it. “I don't know,” you finally whispered.

“Let me be that person.” He reached out, gently tilting your chin. “Let me make you feel good.”

Your eyes met again, and your resolve wavered. Then he brushed his thumb over your lips and spoke in a barely audible whisper.

“Let me love you.”

That word.

Love.

Your husband had never uttered it to you, nor had you to him. But hearing it from Eris… you knew he didn't mean just now—a stolen moment to carry in your heart. And that realization was the final push you needed.

You didn't know who moved first. One moment you were staring into each other's eyes. The next, your lips met.

He tasted like a wish come true after years of waiting.

You were done longing and yearning in secret, done pretending you didn't know what you truly wanted.

And as Eris loved you in front of the fireplace, you finally felt good. You felt cherished. And he took all night to make sure of it.

Taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minnieoo @saltedcoffeescotch @georgiadixon @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @ivy-34

1k taglist: @onebadassunicorn @thegoddessofnothingness

#eris vanserra #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x y/n #eris vanserra fluff #eris vanserra fic #acotar #acotar x reader #acotar fanfic #acotar fluff #a court of thorns and roses #sjm #sarah j maas #one shot #fluff #fanfiction #drabble #requested

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kiwriteswords · 2 days ago

Note

For the trope day could we please see maybe celebrity reader and hotch? congrats btw!

Walked in and dream-came-trued it for ya [Aaron Hotchner x Popstar!Reader]

Ki2k Masterlist||MainMasterlist (not updated, sorry!)|| Ao3||Word Count: 2k|| AN: I keep seeing so much queen Sabrina Carpenter stuff around the Hotch fandom these days; she's who I envisioned reader to be like here--but obviously open to interpretation of whatever popstar you would want to be! I lowkey could never picture this happening, but it was fun, nonetheless. This is also likely my last story I'll do for trope tuesday because they take a lot of time, haha. Unless I do a short drabble!

Tags/Warnings: female reader, speculating bau team!, gossip!!, Penelope Garcia is your biggest fan!!!, you're a superstar who sells out stadiums, even rossi knows this!, mysterious!hotch, more of a fun one-shot than anything too fluffy, very team-focused, non-bau!reader

Summary: Hotch has been in a great mood, oddly enough, and when one day, he hands over tickets to Penelope for her favorite singer of all time--you--the team really begins to wonder where Hotch is spending his free time.

The bullpen of the BAU was unusually animated for a Monday morning. Derek leaned back against his desk, arms crossed, watching Reid flip through files at an astonishing rate while Penelope hovered over both their shoulders, her curiosity practically buzzing.

“Seriously, Spence, you didn’t notice anything different about Hotch last week?” Derek asked, his tone teasing but genuinely curious.

Reid, without looking up from his reading, adjusted his glasses. “Well, he did leave on time every day, which is statistically significant for him.”

“Leaving on time? That’s an understatement. The man was practically sprinting out the door at five o’clock. And he smiled--actually smiled--at me yesterday,” Penelope chimed in, her eyes wide with the thrill of the gossip.

Emily, walking in with a cup of coffee in hand, joined the group. “Don’t forget, he also took a personal day last Friday. When’s the last time Hotch took a day off that wasn’t for something work-related?”

Derek raised an eyebrow. “Exactly! Something’s up. Hotch is seeing someone; it’s got to be.”

Reid finally looked up, curiosity overcoming him. “But who would it be? I mean, we practically live at work. When would he even have the time to meet someone?”

Penelope twirled a strand of her brightly colored hair, thinking. “Oh, my sweet geniuses, that’s the million-dollar question! I could do a little cyber snooping--”

“Penelope, no hacking into Hotch’s personal life,” Emily cut off, her tone half-serious. “But I agree, it’s odd. He’s even been more... what’s the word?”

“Chill?” Derek suggested with a chuckle. “For Hotch standards, anyway.”

The group’s laughter was a mixture of disbelief and genuine amusement, just as Rossi walked up, a knowing smile playing onhis lips. “Talking about our fearless leader’s mysterious new habits?”

Derek nodded, welcoming Rossi into the conversation. “Rossi, you’re the profiler extraordinaire with all the life experience. What’s your read on this?”

Rossi stroked his chin, pretending to ponder deeply. “Well, if I were a betting man--and I occasionally am--I’d say our boy Hotch might just be reminding himself there’s more to life than case files and jet fuel.”

Reid’s brow furrowed in thought. “It’s statistically rare for individuals in high-stress jobs to make sudden changes to their behavioral patterns without a significant emotional or personal catalyst.”

“Exactly,” Penelope squealed, delighted by the support for their theories. “He’s got to be dating someone. This is just like those romance novels where the broody, mysterious man finds love and starts changing his ways.”

JJ laughed, sipping her coffee. “Let’s not get carried away. It could be anything--maybe he’s just taking up a new hobby…or maybe it’s Jack.”

“But a hobby that makes him leave work on time and take days off? That’s not just any hobby; that’s a passion,” Derek countered, his smile suggesting he was thoroughly enjoying the speculation.

The group quieted as Hotch suddenly appeared, his pace steady and his expression unreadable as always. He paused by their cluster, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Morning,” he greeted, a small, almost imperceptible smile on his lips. “I trust we’re all ready to focus on the real mysteries at hand today?”

Caught in their own theories, the team straightened up, mumbling their morning greetings. Hotch’s gaze lingered for a moment longer than usual, giving nothing away.

As he walked off towards his office, Emily whispered to the group, “See? Happier. I’m telling you, there’s definitely something--or someone--new in his life.”

Rossi chuckled, watching Hotch disappear into his office. “Or maybe our esteemed unit chief just decided it’s time to start living a little. Either way, it’s good to see.”

The team nodded in agreement, the mystery of Hotch’s unusual behavior lingering in the air, adding a layer of intrigue to their day. Derek grinned, clapping his hands together.

“Alright, let’s get to work. And maybe, just maybe, we’ll crack the case of the Happy Hotch.”

Laughter echoed softly among them as they dispersed to their desks, the day’s work ahead, but their minds still occasionally drifted to the enigma of Aaron Hotchner’s uncharacteristic lightness.

Days after the team's animated discussion about Hotch's peculiarly cheerful demeanor, Penelope Garcia was in her vibrant lair, surrounded by her kaleidoscope of tech and trinkets.

The sound of a catchy pop song filled the air, and Penelope couldn't help but dance and sing along to the tune, her voice echoing slightly off the walls lined with monitors.

She was in the middle of a particularly enthusiastic chorus when a knock at the door made her jump. Swiveling around in her chair, she saw Hotch standing at the entrance, an amused smile barely touching his lips.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," Hotch said, his eyes twinkling with a hint of humor.

Penelope chuckled, brushing off her surprise with a flamboyant wave of her hand. "Oh, it's nothing, Sir. Just enjoying some tunes while I work. You know, fuel for the brain!"

Hotch nodded, his gaze drifting momentarily to the colorful post-it notes of affirmations on her screen. "I couldn’t help but overhear. Do you like this artist?" he asked, nodding toward the speaker from where the music still played, though now at a lower volume.

Penelope’s eyes lit up, eager to share her enthusiasm. "Like her? I adore her! She’s all about empowerment and fun, and her beats are just infectious. Plus, her lyrics are, like, super relatable. She's a total queen!" Penelope exclaimed, not missing the opportunity to promote her musical taste.

Hotch's smile grew a bit as he listened to Penelope’s gushing review. "I see," he said, his voice filled with a warm, curious tone that Penelope rarely heard from him. "Thanks, Garcia."

With a final nod and a mysterious smile, he turned and left as quietly as he had arrived, leaving Penelope staring after him, slightly confused but smiling nonetheless.

She shrugged to herself and turned the volume back up, diving back into her work with the music as her soundtrack, her mind briefly wandering to wonder about Hotch’s sudden interest in pop culture.

"Maybe he’s getting a life outside those case files after all--and a decent taste in music..." she murmured to herself, her head bobbing to the beat as she focused back on her screens, the mystery of Aaron Hotchner adding yet another curious, albeit lighter, layer to her day.

The following week brought an air of excitement that seemed to linger around the BAU, particularly around Penelope Garcia's tech-filled lair. The atmosphere was thick with disbelief and joy as Penelope, unable to contain her excitement, recounted a recent encounter with Hotch to JJ and Emily.

"You guys will not believe this!" Penelope beamed, her hands animatedly waving the prized items in the air. "Hotch--our Hotch--just handed me these!" She fluttered a pair of tickets like they were sacred texts.

JJ and Emily leaned in, eyes widening as they caught sight of the tickets. "No way! How did he even get those?" Emily exclaimed, her skepticism matched by her amusement.

Rossi, overhearing the commotion as he walked in, joined the group, a curious smile playing on his lips. "What's all this about?" he inquired, peering over to see what had stirred up such excitement.

Penelope held up the tickets with a theatrical flair. "These, my dear Rossi, are tickets to see none other than--" she paused for dramatic effect, "--the popstar we were just talking about last week! And not just any tickets--Hotch got them for me!"

Rossi's eyebrows shot up, a clear sign of his surprise. "Those tickets? I heard on the news this morning that they were impossible to get. The show sold out in minutes," he commented, adding to the bewildering nature of Hotch’s gift.

Before Penelope could respond, Derek Morgan swooped in, his hand snatching the tickets from her grip to inspect them himself. "Let me see these," he said, his voice a mix of suspicion and awe. Flipping them over, his eyes scanned the details, and a slow whistle escaped him. "Ladies, these aren’t just any tickets. These are front row. Front. Row. Do you realize how good these seats are?"

JJ laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. "This is insane. Hotch pulled some serious strings. Front row to see a popstar like her? That's not just pulling strings; that's a whole concert orchestra at work!"

Penelope snatched the tickets back from Derek, clutching them close to her chest. "I knew Hotch had a secret side to him!" she exclaimed, her previous theories about his recent behavior seeming to find validation. "This is like, the best thing ever. I can't even--"

Emily leaned in, her voice low and playful. "You know what this means, right? You're going to have to get all dolled up, Penelope. Front row means you’ll probably be on camera!"

Penelope’s grin widened at the thought, already planning her outfit in her mind. "Oh, trust me, I will be camera-ready. Our stoic unit chief might just make a fangirl out of me yet!"

Rossi chuckled, shaking his head as he watched the excitement bubble over. "Well, I'll say this," he mused, "it's nice to see Hotch letting his hair down a bit, even if it’s in his own unique way."

“Whoever he’s seeing’s got some serious connections,” Derek shared.

The group nodded in agreement, the mystery of Hotch's recent behavior adding an unexpected but welcome layer of camaraderie and speculation among the team. As they dispersed back to their tasks, the buzz of excitement remained, the BAU team finding a rare moment of lightness amidst their usual, graver responsibilities.

At the concert, JJ and Penelope stood in the front row, the pulsing lights and thumping beats of the music wrapping around them like a vibrant cloak. You were the popstar that Penelope (and the rest of society) could not get enough of.

Your performance had a cascade of dazzling visuals and soul-stirring vocals that had the crowd roaring with excitement. Each song seemed to resonate perfectly with the audience, a mix of chart-topping hits and beloved classics that had JJ and Penelope singing along, lost in the nostalgia and the thrill of the night.

They felt like they were sixteen all over again.

As the concert progressed, the atmosphere turned electric, each track bringing a new wave of cheers from the audience. You moved with a grace and confidence that commanded attention, your presence on stage both mesmerizing and awe-inspiring. The night was already unforgettable, but it was about to become even more so.

Before launching into the next song, you paused, your gaze sweeping over the crowd with a playful yet intense look.

"This next song," you began, your voice ringing clear over the din, "is a very special one. It’s for the grumpy man who changed my life. He's from here, and guess what? He's here tonight. Supporting me, despite having the most important job out there."

The crowd erupted in cheers, curiosity piqued by your heartfelt introduction. You continued, your eyes twinkling with emotion and mischief, "And because he’s here, supporting me, I want to give a shout-out to someone very special in the audience tonight--Penelope!"

Penelope’s jaw dropped, her eyes wide with shock, and JJ turned to her with an expression that mirrored her disbelief. "How does she know your name?" JJ whispered her voice a mix of excitement and confusion.

Before Penelope could formulate a response, you launched into a flirty, romantic ballad, your voice soaring as beautifully as the lyrics. As yo sang, you glanced toward the VIP section, and with a sly wink and a blown kiss, you acknowledged someone standing there..

Driven by curiosity and an overwhelming sense of wonder, JJ and Penelope followed your gaze. There, among a few shadowed figures in the VIP section, stood none other than Aaron Hotchner. His usually impassive face wore a soft, almost shy smile as he acknowledged the kiss with a slight nod, his eyes locked on the stage.

He was dressed in a black button-up and jeans--a far contrast to his usual attire. He looked relaxed…happy. Maybe not singing along to the words, but he sure knew them. He inspired them.

The realization hit Penelope like a wave. "Oh my god, JJ, Hotch is her boyfriend? Hotch is the grumpy man who changed her life?" she gasped, her voice a mix of shock and delight.

JJ laughed, shaking her head in amazement. "Looks like we've been underestimating our boss's ability to keep secrets," she said, her eyes twinkling with humor and newfound respect for their unit chief.

As the song ended and you took a graceful bow, the crowd’s applause was deafening. JJ and Penelope clapped and cheered along, their hearts full of joy and their minds buzzing with the night’s revelations.

The concert continued, but for JJ and Penelope, the evening had transformed into something even more magical--a story they would share and reminisce about for years to come, the night their grumpy boss was revealedto be the secret boyfriend of a popstar, right before their very eyes.

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zeropro · 2 days ago

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can i kindly ask for a summary of how time is measured in your au? mostly the cycle/year stuff, im not sure if it's lifted from elsewhere or your own creation — either way i think it's really cool :) world building is awesome

very sorry if you've already gone over this elsewhere

Oh sure! I spent way too long figuring this out so i might as well explain it.

The cybertronian calendar goes in one direction forever unless a new Prime decides to reset it. Nova Prime reset the calendar when he declared the new Golden Age of Expansion, which is why Megatron’s canon Birthday is so small (1st cycle 012) as he was among the first Cold Constructed mechs onlined, and that started with Nova.

The only unit of measurement that we seem to have solidified is Vorns, which is 83 earth years (earth years=stellar cycle). The calendar’s cycles are measured by vorn, the first number counts vorn, and every 24 vorn the second number ticks up. after 24th cycle 12 it would become 1st cycle 013 and then 2nd cycle 013.

There…actually is no unit of time for the second measurement as far as I can tell, so I have no idea what to call it, but essentially you would say Megatron’s birthday as first cycle O’twelve, and people would know he was born 23904-ish years after Nova Prime’s calendar went in effect.

24 vorns is roughly 2000 years and every 500 dates on the calendar is roughly one million years.

I developed this calendar system based on the actual dates we do have in IDW1, I decided 24 vorns are when the calendar turns over because the war starts about a million years after Megatron’s birth and the canon dates for most of those events are in the 500s. I did have to ignore the single canon date set in the 51st cycle for this, but all the other dates are within the 1 to 14 range. And this is taking into consideration that the calendar probably reset some time under Zeta Prime (which is why the Battle of Sherma Bridge where Megatron and the newly anointed Optimus Prime allegedly duked it out for the first time happens in 2nd Cycle 087 even tho Megatron was beat up by Whirl in jail before the war in 4th Cycle 496). Some of the inconsistencies I also chalk up to some bots still using the old calendar. the only date I really cant figure out is 6th Cycle 356 being confirmed to be “half a million years ago” like?? Eh?? Ultra Magnus’ last fatality was pre earth pretty sure and that happened in the 3800’s (of nova’s calendar pretty sure). Maybe they missed a zero at the end of the date or something idk XD 3560 would make so much more sense for half a million years ago.

Also, 83 years is a long time and it does seem like they have smaller units of dating called chords and arcs but I just assume thats like days and months to us and I cant be bothered to figure it out. not enough info about it anyway. I’m sure one of those tracks stellar cycles and the other tracks cybertronian days.

i think the only other unit of time I've used is deca-cycles, just cuz I like how it sounds. a deca-cycle is about a month, or three weeks.

Megatron and Skywarp were constructed earlier on (012 and 023 respectivly), Thundercracker was constructed closer to when the matrix “ran dry” probably in the 100s, and Starscream was commissioned by Cryak at the end of the millenia, in the late 400s, after they’d stopped constructing seekers entirely. He must not have been more than a few vorns old when he met Thundercracker.

Starscream and Skyfire’s expedition would have taken them 40 on the calendar to get to earth, based on Skyfire’s shuttle speed. Starscream probably would have been able to make it back to cybertron a little bit faster.

I referenced this and this page of the wiki while working on this. Most of my worldbuilding is extrapolation from canon.

yes i did all this for one joke.

A few more timeline stuff: Megatron is about .7 million years older than Starscream, and Starscream is about half a million years older than the start of the war. The war lasted 3 million years before they crash landed on earth after which they went into stasis for one million years. Some time after they landed on earth, Shockwave successfully clones Sunstorm.

and in case you were wondering, sunny's serial code is referencing his Collector's Edition toy's ID number (089). SC stands for Seeker Class. they run out of glyphs slots after 999 so they sort them into batches. Sunny is the 089th frame built in batch 16. whether that means his frame was already built and left empty in storage somewhere and then repurposed by Shockwave, or Shockwave built him from scratch based on the blueprints and just continued the serial code sequence, I haven't decided. but either way, it means there was a finite number of seekers brought into the world and they dont even make up a whole united states city's worth of people. Lots of them are dead by now anyway. The whole cybertronian race is so small now they are all on first name bases with each other XD. But i digress, none of that has to do with time or calendar stuff, just thought it was fun.

thanks for asking!!

#transformers #transformers calendar #transformers worldbuilding #transformers units of time #transformers 2005 idw #transformers idw1

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ragana62 · 15 hours ago

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Here's my thoughts from the perspective of an author who is not nearly as good at tagging as I should be because I run into issues of knowing what main tags are still:

Correct tagging of squicks/triggers/kinks, major CW, etc. at a bare minimum is not spoiling things. It's basic decency, and it actually makes fics more accessible. Both because you're being a good person and letting people filter out works that aren't what they want/aren't safe for them, and because it makes it easier for people to find what they're looking for. Tags are basically (literally) SEO for your fic.

Knowing there are explicit descriptions of violence in a fic doesn't spoil what that scene(s) is/are for readers who are alright with reading it. It does however keep readers who could be harmed by reading that from that harm. Knowing that a fic includes kink and what specifically that kink content is, doesn't ruin the fic, if anything it makes it easier for people who want to read about that to find it. I won't name specifics, but the amount of times I've been looking for specific kink content and found it impossible to do so because 80% of the fics that do include it either don't tag it or tag it with some ridiculous vaguepost of a description tag that makes it impossible to find unless you were on a specific forum in 2006 to learn it or figure it out through trial and error is substantially more than the zero it really should be.

The biggest reason I see for authors not wanting to tag comprehensively is 'conventional media doesn't have trigger warnings/comprehensive tags' which is fine in theory, but also it isn't correct. We live in the internet age, spoilers exist, and a lot of people do look to places like TV tropes, reviews, the wiki, etc. especially if they are trying to avoid certain triggering content. Fanfics don't usually have external sources of spoilers unless you're in a community that reads similar fics and can be consulted for advice, that's why tags are so important. Because again, readers who want your content won't find you without the tags to search by, and readers who are doing everything they can to avoid a certain type of content can't actually follow 'don't like, don't read' without tags to help them filter searches.

For authors who don't like to tag particularly comprehensively, or who like me at times are posting WIPs that are in progress and which might at some point contain potentially triggering content but you aren't 100% sure it will or what that content will be yet, please consider using 'author chose not to use archive warnings'. That's literally what that is there for (and it should be a part of filtering if you are trying to avoid potentially triggering content, because as a general rule, that is a mark that indicates 'this isn't tagged comprehensively for whatever reason, whether I've not written the whole fic and suspect the tags will update with major squicks/triggers eventually as I go but I can't 100% say for sure what those will be, or I just don't tag my works in detail'). Because yes, not all works are for everyone, fiction doesn't owe the world perfect compliance with our safest, softest, most morally upright principles at all times, and 'don't like don't read' is still the golden rule, but if you could actively avoid causing harm to readers who would have chosen to avoid the work if they had known to do so, why wouldn't you?

AO3 👏 TAGS 👏 ARE 👏 NOT 👏 SPOILERS 👏

i’m so tired of authors not tagging correctly because they don’t want to “spoil the fic”

correctly tagging your fic allows readers who DON’T want to read things like major character death, gore, mpreg or whatever may be their squick to filter your fic out from the main ship/fandom tag. not including the correct tags on your fic is harmful to readers and i’m tired of pretending it’s not.

“don’t like don’t read” great! i won’t! tag your fic correctly next time ffs

#ao3 #archive of our own #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 etiquette #ao3 tags #don't be an asshole #seriously it's not that hard #also if tags change you can (and should) update them

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cosmosluckycharms · 4 hours ago

Text

Bug like angel

Unhappy Birthday

pt 4.5 (again)

filler (again)

Growing up, you never really celebrated your birthday.

You grew up with people who had either completely forgotten you or were trying to forget you.

You never even realized people celebrated them until one day when you were younger, Dick brought his friends over to celebrate his birthday.

Since then you've tried celebrating your birthday.

You tried to have a tea party with paper invitations you made only for them to be crumpled up and thrown into the trash.

Over time, you had gotten used to not celebrating them, only getting a couple of "happy birthday" from friends.

You didn't need gifts either, you technically had all the money in the world to buy whatever, whenever.

You never even got to blow out a candle on a single cupcake.

So it wasn't surprising that you'd forget your birthday sometimes.

You never really celebrated your birthday.

You were sad about it growing up, but you soon realized you didn't want to celebrate with them anyway.

It was pretty late in the morning.

You were dead asleep on your bed at the manor.

It was a weekend and you were taking advantage of how you could sleep in bed all you wanted. You had just gotten back from patrol and school.

Little did you know, all your friends had been up all day and night making you a little special something.

"She won't like it like that- cmon just hand me it-!" Miles argued while pulling on the tablecloth that was party-themed

"Oh cmon, everyone knows she would want f/c themed party!" Pavitr argued back while placing the tablecloth of your favorite color onto the table

"Boys, stop fighting! At this point, if you guys keep acting like this Y/N won't have a party on time!" Rio yelled from in the kitchen.

"Sorry ma! Just give us a second, we will figure it out!" Miles said back while pulling on the tablecloth

"Yes, just a moment Ms.Morales!" Pavitr called, while pulling on the tablecloth as well. It looked like a game of tug of war.

Then they ripped the cheap tablecloth.

It ripped right in the middle.

Pav and miles stopped right then and there.

"..Fuck." Miles stared right at the rip.

"Shhiittt." Pavitr said while pulling on his hair, a bit dramatically.

"Pav, we can figure something out," Miles said while taking Pav's hands off his hair.

While Miles and Pav were coming up with ideas, Hobie was busy putting up the 'happy birthday' banner on the wall.

The only thing that was messing it up was that one side couldn't stay up.

If the left side stayed up, the right side would fall.If the right side stayed up, the left side would fall.

Once he finally got it right, it all fell.

In the kitchen, Gwen and Peni were working on your cake.

Peni is a pretty good cake decorator, and you taught Gwen how to bake pretty well.

The cake was gonna be great!

...The only thing is since the kitchen was sort of crowded and people kept bumping into them, the cake came out looking a little dumb.

It was lopsided and the handwriting was crooked. You could make out the words, but it was messy.

While Peni and Gwen were figuring out ways to fix it, Peter B was fixing out the gift table.

It would be pretty easy if Maydays the new literal sticky hands could stop sticking to the tissue paper in one of the gifts.

Somehow, for the next few hours, there was tissue paper all over the floor.

The most calm and collected ones had to be Rio and Jess. The food they were making smelled delicious and took over the house.

The only issue? They were the ones also solving the problems with the kids.

Every two minutes they had to stop and scold one of the kids to stop doing something bad.

Jeff was making sure you didn't get here early, and that no one he didn't approve of (your family) came in.

Noir and Ham were trying to fit your comically large gift into the room, which was very difficult since it was stupidly big.

While this was all happening, you were sleeping on your bed. Suddenly you woke up when you got a text from Miguel.

Spider-dad: Get ready.

You: wyat

ehat*

whay*

what*

Wgywhu*

why*

Spider-dad: Hurry.

You:??ok

Well, that made no sense.

You got ready for the day, decided to skip breakfast since you didn't wanna see your family, and put on your shoes.

You realized you felt like you were forgetting something.

Have you forgotten a friend's birthday?

No, you had all of their birthdays on a calendar and memorized them too.

Maybe it was an assignment you forgot to turn in?

Yeah, it was probably that.

You ran to your bathroom to brush your teeth, and you felt that familiar feeling.

Miguel was here!

"I'm coming, just wait a minute!" You yelled from the bathroom, still brushing your teeth.

You ran out and dabbed him up as soon as you saw him.

You started dabbing people up out habit after you saw Miles and Pavitr do it.

"So, where are we headed?" You asked while grabbing your wallet.

"We are going out to eat," Miguel said while standing awkwardly stiff like usual.

"Oh, where?" you asked, tilting your head

"that's classified." he turned his back towards you dramatically and you tried not to laugh.

"well can I at least get a piggyback ride on the way?" you asked, jokingly. You thought there was no way he was gonna do it.

He squatted down. "get on." he grumbled.

You immediately hopped on before he could change his mind.

You guys swung around for a while, it was honestly surprising how no one saw you.

You took a tiny nap while he swung. You woke up to you guys both being in front of your favorite breakfast place.

You remembered how you had once begged Dick to take you. he promised you he would take you.

Only to cancel last minute, when you were ready to go.

Turns out he had also promised Damian that he would help him train.

It wasn't the first or last time this would happen.

You shivered the thought away. You didn't want to remember that, not right now at least.

You got off Miguel's back and walked in.

You guys got seated at a booth and you immediately ordered a milkshake.

You ended up drinking at least 3 by the time you were done with breakfast.

You also ordered your favorite breakfast foods, and Miguel ordered huevos con chorizo.

You guys talked about anything and everything for a while until the topic of your friends came up.

It was then you realized you hadn't gotten a single text from any of your friends all day.

Huh. Weird.

Usually, the group chat went crazy immediately in the morning.

You decided to just ignore it, they were probably all busy.

You still had that weird feeling you were forgetting something.

After breakfast, you and Miguel started walking around a shopping mall.

You didn't really wanna shop, you could buy anything you wanted with your monthly allowance, and that made everything boring.

So you both just walked around. You didn't wanna shop.

That was until you came across a build-a-bear workshop.

As soon as you guys walked by it, you stopped dead in your tracks and you stared at a bear.

One that was in your favorite color and holding a cute little guitar.

It was literally you.

You needed it so bad.

You dragged Miguel inside with you and you both got matching bears. you forced him to get one.

Funnily enough, your bears kind of looked like your costumes.

By the end of your bear shopping and walking around, it was evening.

Miguel told you to hop on his shoulders and close your eyes.

You listened and you felt like you were moving universes again.

Miguel dropped you off his shoulders.

"Open your eyes," Miguel said, stretching his back.

You listened and you felt a faint hum going off in the back of your head.

You both started walking towards a dark room in the society, one that was empty and usually just used for small meetups between friend groups.

You jumped as the lights turned on and you heard a "surprise" coming from all your family and friends.

You looked around in surprise.

The cake was crooked and you could barley make the writing.

The banner on the wall was slanted and held on by piles of web fluid.

The tablecloth was a mix of 2 tablecloths taped together half and half.

"..So thats what I was forgetting!" You looked like a lightbulb just went off in your head.

"What were you forgetting?" asked Peni as she passed you one of the balloons that said 'Happy birthday' on it

"My birthday! I forgot it was today!" you laughed to yourself a bit.

You and the others started celebrating. You've never had a party before!

Even if the party was a mess, you knew it came from a lot of people who cared about you.

When they took out the cake for you, you started crying a little out of happiness.

A couple of people checked up on you before you admitted it was out of happiness.

You opened your gifts.

Most of them were crafts, and the ones that weren't were things you were interested in that you didn't have in your universe and your friends had in theirs.

You ended the party smiling while passed out asleep next to your friends who were equally as exhausted.

You didn't notice Peter B. taking pictures of you guys.You didn't notice until the next time you came over to Miguel's apartment and saw the picture hung up on the wall.

why am. i writing fluff

im half aselep im so tired but heres this

i might write a valentines chapter in a bit but its prolly gonna be late isigh

taglist(please lmk if i forgot you!):@bath1lda @mariadvorak @coralaura @tsxukikami @hjgdhghoe @coffeeaddictxd @cxcilla @kaitense1 @star-girl-interlud3 @sukaretto-n @welpthisisboring @itsberrydreemurstuff @lovebug-apple @crazycaoticsimp @bellethesleepypotato @blackhood1229 @jsprien213 @sirenetheblogger @awawage @holybatflapexpert

edit: I LITERALLY FORGOT TO ADD HASHTAGS OOF

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