#cabbage writing corner

[leafcabbage]

i hate editing i hate proof reading so i DIDNT

3.5k words LMAO oops

here is something for the drdi hgau!! rescue mission <3

tws for injuries and mentions of needles and blood. nothing graphic

Going into the Capitol was probably a death trap, but Sneeg didn’t even entertain the idea of leaving Ranboo to be retrieved by strangers. The state they had been in during the last day of the 75th games had been bad enough, he could only imagine how much worse it had gotten in the weeks since they had been captured. 

If he wasn’t there, he was afraid Ranboo would just think they were being kidnapped, which, well, they kind of were, but it was by the right people this time. Ranboo thinking they were being kidnapped would probably lead to a struggle, which wouldn’t be helpful for anyone. 

Getting into the building had been nearly impossible without tripping any alarms, but they had made it to the floor that held the cells with Niki, Techno, and Ranboo. Now they would be on a strict time limit. They would cut the power to the floor, and have about two minutes before the emergency power kicked in. Any delays were likely a death sentence. It was a great way to get an adrenaline rush, really. 

They had scoped out the cells earlier, knew where to find everyone, and now it was a matter of finally putting the plan into action. Luckily, 13 had plenty of night vision glasses, or this would be nearly impossible. 

The power went out, and there was no more thinking about what to do, only doing it. 

Sneeg stuck to the wall as he made his way down the hall to Ranboo’s cell, figuring it was better to pretend there were guards everywhere, just in case one did make an appearance. He was pretty sure there had been guards, but he hadn’t been part of the group dealing with all that. 

He reached the door and forced it open with some specialized tool he’d been given. The engineers at 13 really had something for everything. Definitely not complaining about that. 

Ranboo was curled up on a cot just inside. There wasn’t much room for it to be anywhere else. Sneeg ignored the rush of relief at just seeing them there, alive and… well, pretty much just alive. They were absolutely not okay, bruised and skinnier than before, though he didn’t know how they had anything left to lose. He knew he couldn’t even see the extent of it, even with the night vision glasses. They also seemed to be asleep, which meant he was about to give them an unfortunate wake-up scare. 

He knelt beside their bed, trying to move quickly without being careless. Wincing slightly at how much he knew he was about to scare them, he pressed his hand over their mouth to keep them from making any noise. He didn’t even have to shake them awake, that was enough to startle them awake, eyes wide and searching the dark, trying to figure out what was happening.

They tried to shove his hand away but he caught their wrist, easily stopping them.

“It’s me,” he whispered. “It’s me, Ranboo, you’re okay. It’s Sneeg.” 

They froze, confusion mixing with the fear in their expression. 

“I need you to trust me right now.”

He could see them trying to make sense of what he was saying, of his presence there, of everything. 

Then they nodded. 

Thank god.

“I need you to stay quiet. I’m going to pick you up, and I’m going to run. You need to hold on. That’s all you need to do, hold on and stay quiet. Can you do that?” 

They nodded again. 

He took his hand from their mouth and didn’t hesitate to hoist them up into his arms. Ranboo did their part, wrapping their arms and legs around him and holding on as best they could. It was a little awkward, they were a tall kid, but it was easier with them holding on. They were light, too. Lighter than they should be. He ignored it. They would get help back at 13. His job was to get them there. 

Exiting the cell, he nearly ran into Techno, who was being kept upright by another one of the guys who had come along, his name was… not coming to mind. 

“Watch where you’re going,” Sneeg whispered, knowing his relief at seeing another one of their own alive and breathing was clear in his voice.

“What, didn’t expect me to be standing?” Techno asked, voice rough.

“Can you really call that standing?” Sneeg replied. “Come on.”

As much as he’d like to see where Niki was, they had been told to only worry about themselves and the person they were trying to get out, and trust that everyone knew what they were doing. Sneeg had been lucky to run into Techno, but now it was time to move. 

They had barely made it into the stairwell when the generator kicked in, lights flooding the floor and a delayed alarm started to sound, only now registering the forced open doors. Ranboo flinched at the sound, clinging to Sneeg even tighter. 

“It’s okay,” he said quietly, though he really didn’t know if it was. 

He really hoped he wasn’t about to get both of them killed. 

No time to think about that. He needed to focus on getting to the roof and getting out of there. He also needed to pretend that things were going to plan, because he could already feel Ranboo’s breathing and heart rate picking up. He couldn’t blame them. The whole thing was probably—no, definitely—terrifying. 

Despite being used to physical exertion, running up several flights of stairs while carrying a teenager was exhausting. He just had to keep pushing forward, though. He would be out soon enough, and then he could get Ranboo home, and they would get the care they needed, and maybe it would feel like everything might eventually be okay. 

The relief of getting to the roof and seeing their hovercraft waiting was cut short when the gunfire started. Shit. Luck had been on their side for too long, and it had run out. He only had to make it from the stairs to the hovercraft. That was it. He was so close, so close to getting them both out of there. 

The gunfire was coming from behind them, which was good because Sneeg had a bulletproof vest, and all Ranboo had to shield them was him. If the bullets were coming from the other side, they would have nothing. 

A bullet found its target in one of the guys who had been next to Sneeg, and Ranboo made a choked sound, probably having seen it happen far better than Sneeg was able to. 

He was about to tell Ranboo to close their eyes and keep their head down when a bullet caught him in the leg, sending a wave of white-hot pain through him. He stumbled, losing his footing and his hold on Ranboo, and they both hit the ground hard. 

Ranboo was at his side in a second, pulling on his arm frantically. 

“Come on, Sneeg, please.” It was the first time they’d spoken, and their voice was raspy and weak. “Get up, please.”

“Can you run?” he asked hurriedly, trying to ignore the blood he could feel seeping out of the wound. The guards would be closing in. 

Ranboo shook their head, and he wasn’t sure if it was an actual no, or if they just wouldn’t leave him.

“You need to go,” he stressed. “You need to leave.”

“Not without—”

Ranboo was cut off by the guy who had been helping Techno picking them up. They shrieked Sneeg’s name, trying to free themself from his hold, but they were too weak to put up any real fight.

At least he knew Ranboo was going to make it out. He was dead weight at this point, though. He’d known there was a chance he would die here. At least he was going to die knowing Ranboo would be okay.

“No being a martyr for you.” A familiar voice broke through his somewhat dramatic thoughts, and then Phil was pulling him to his feet. 

Phil was meant to stay back in the hovercraft, he had been part of the group keeping an eye on what was happening, but he had apparently abandoned his post for Sneeg’s sake. 

“You’ve run on worse than that,” he added, half-supporting, half-dragging Sneeg along with him.

He was right. Sneeg gritted his teeth, forcing himself to move through the pain, unable to come up with a witty retort with the pain clouding his mind. 

It was a miracle that the two of them made it. They must have been the last ones, too, because the craft was moving nearly before they were on it.

The doors closed and Phil lowered Sneeg to the ground, back against the wall, both of them breathing heavily. 

Before he could even start to ask about Ranboo, they were back at his side, arms thrown around him and face pressed into his shoulder. It couldn’t be very comfortable, what with the bulletproof vest, but he doubted they would be letting go any time soon. He put an arm around them, giving them a squeeze.

“I’m okay,” he said quietly. “We’re okay.”

“Well, unless they shoot us out of the sky,” Jack said, sounding all too happy for having said something so grim.

Of course, the reason he was happy was clear enough, seeing as Niki was laying with her head on his lap, looking much worse for wear, but awake and alive. 

“Thanks, I needed to hear that,” Sneeg replied dryly. 

“Let me look at that leg,” Phil interrupted, stopping Jack from coming up with a defense. 

“But it’s gonna hurt,” Sneeg complained.

“It’ll hurt more if you bleed out.” 

“Let him look at it,” Ranboo said, muffled by his shoulder and… oh. He hadn’t realized they were crying. “I don’t want you to die.”

Usually, he would point out that he had been joking, that obviously he wasn’t going to just sit there and bleed out. But he doubted Ranboo was in a good enough state to pick up on that, and it was better to just comfort them than backtrack and explain that he didn’t mean it in the first place.

“I won’t die,” he told them, gentler than usual. “And of course I’ll let him look at it.”

They nodded but didn’t reply, apparently satisfied with his assurance. Or too tired to keep protesting. 

He made a point not to look at what Phil was doing, because it would probably be a little nauseating if he did. Sneeg didn’t like watching himself lose blood. The pain was enough without the visual. 

“You’re going to need stitches,” Phil informed him.

“Yeah, duh.” He’d thought that was a given. “Can it wait until I can get something for the pain?” 

“You can get something for the pain right now,” Phil reminded him. “We’re fully stocked.”

They were, too. They had a medic and everything, prepared for the worst case scenario when it came to the conditions everyone would be in when they were rescued. 

“I’ll get the medic,” Phil continued, standing. “Don’t die before I’m back.” 

“I’d never.” 

With Phil off to find someone to give Sneeg stitches, he turned his attention to Ranboo, who hadn’t moved since they first got to him. 

“They’re gonna need to give me stitches, but I’m going to be okay,” he told them gently. “You’re probably going to have to let go for that, though.” 

They held on tighter in response, which wasn’t exactly promising. 

“It’ll be okay, you can—” Well… they probably shouldn’t be in the room. That didn’t seem like a good idea. “You’ll be with—” 

He had been going to say Techno, because Ranboo and Techno were fairly close, but he suddenly realized that Techno wasn’t in the main holding area with them. He must be okay, seeing as Phil hadn’t been deeply distraught. Probably being treated for his own injuries. 

“You can stay with Phil and Niki and Jack.” 

“We can have a party,” Jack interjected, obviously trying to keep the mood light.

Ranboo shook their head, more frantic this time.

“It won’t take long, I promise. They’re not gonna waste drugs on knocking me out, just gonna numb my leg and do some stitches, then I’ll be back.”

He supposed he didn’t actually know that, but he was going to make some assumptions for the sake of getting Ranboo to calm down. Not that it was working. If anything, they were getting more agitated, their breath was starting to quicken again and they were trembling worse than before. 

“I’ll ask someone to keep giving you updates, how about that?” 

He was really lost on what would help at this point. Ranboo might be a little emotional, but they were usually logical enough. Even when they were terrified, most of the time they could force themself to do what needed to be done, but no amount of logic or convincing seemed to be helping now. Not that he blamed them. He didn’t know what they’d just gone through, but he was pretty sure that if he was in their shoes, he would also be clinging on to whatever comfort he could find. 

“They’re ready for you,” Phil said, rejoining them.

“You a receptionist now?” Sneeg asked.

Phil rolled his eyes. “Do you want stitches or not?”

“No one really wants stitches, do they?” he replied, a little distracted trying to figure out how he was going to get Ranboo to let go. “Ran, you gotta let go.”

“No!” Ranboo cried, grabbing onto the fabric of his jacket like that might be enough to keep him there.

“I need to get my leg dealt with,” he said, a little firmer this time. 

“I’ll stay with you.”

“You’ll stay out here,” he replied. “I’ll be back as fast as I can—”

“No, you won’t!” they cut him off, voice desperate. “You’ll die! You’ll die! They told me you died! They showed me you died, you’re going to die, I saw your body, I saw it—” their words dissolved into sobs, their whole body shaking.

He didn’t bother asking what they meant by that. It wouldn’t be hard for the Capitol to convince them that he was dead. They had plenty of ways to alter people’s perception of reality, and considering how sick and starving Ranboo must have been, it would be easy to play with their idea of what was real. 

He’d like to just sit there and comfort them, try to convince them that it was all okay now, but he was starting to feel woozy from the blood he was losing and he didn’t think they would be feeling better any time soon. 

“I won’t die,” he said softly, though it was useless and he knew it. “I’ll actually be less likely to die.” 

It didn’t seem like they were hearing him anymore, too lost in whatever they were certain was going to happen.

Phil knelt beside Sneeg. “We really need to get you stitched up,” he said apologetically.

“Trust me, I know.” 

He gently tried to loosen Ranboo’s hold on him, knowing he could easily shove them off but not wanting to be too forceful. 

“No!” they shrieked. “No! I’m not going!”

“Ranboo—”

“No!” 

He should really be relieved they had enough energy in them to be doing this, but he doubted that they actually did. They were probably running on adrenaline and nothing else. 

“You’re going to hurt yourself if—”

“You’re gonna die!” 

The guy who had helped Techno, and then carried Ranboo to the hovercraft, joined the three of them, giving Sneeg a nod before helping pull Ranboo off of him.

As was expected, they didn’t react well, crying out at the sudden presence of another person. They fought against him, unsuccessfully, trying to grab onto Sneeg again before they were too far.

“It’s okay, bud,” Sneeg tried to reassure, but he doubted Ranboo could hear him very well over their own sobbing. “I’ll be back soon, okay?”

He hated this. Hated seeing them like this. Hated that they were so scared and there was nothing he could do. Usually, he had at least some ability to make them feel better, but now he was useless. He couldn’t help but feel like it was his own fault for not making sure 13 got them out of the Arena with everyone else. None of this would be happening if he’d just done right by them the first time around. 

Ranboo responded by biting the arm of the guy who was holding them. He swore loudly, and Sneeg really didn’t blame him, it looked painful, but it clearly scared Ranboo, who started struggling even more, yanking and scratching at the guy’s arms. To his credit, he didn’t let go. Sneeg wasn’t entirely sure what Ranboo would do if they weren’t being restrained at this point, but he was pretty sure it wouldn’t be good. 

One of the medical staff emerged from the other part of the hovercraft, a syringe in hand. It was pretty easy to guess what was in it, especially when she made a beeline for Ranboo. They were aware enough to see her, and they made one last attempt to escape, managing to kick Sneeg in the side as they did. It wasn’t particularly painful, especially compared to his leg, but it was enough to make him look down, and by the time he looked up again, whatever was in the syringe had been administered. 

The sedative acted quickly, thank god, because Sneeg didn’t think he could sit and watch Ranboo struggle any longer, but he also couldn’t just leave them there. He just wished they hadn’t looked so scared as they lost consciousness. 

Phil wordlessly helped Sneeg up, the medic joining them to support him on the other side, and they brought him over to the other half of the craft, which was set up like a makeshift hospital. 

Sneeg shoved aside the guilt that built with the distance between him and Ranboo. There was no other choice, no other outcome that would have worked, but he still felt awful about it. For now, he needed to just focus on getting stitches, though. He could be there for Ranboo again when he wasn’t in danger of slowly and painfully bleeding out. 

***

The full day passed before Ranboo woke up again, and at a certain point the sedative had definitely worn off, meaning most of this was just what their body needed. It was good, Sneeg knew it was good, but he also wanted to see them awake again. He supposed he hoped it would be a little better this time.

They had been back in 13 for a good part of the day, now. His leg was stitched up, there were no expected complications, he just had to not exert himself too much for a bit and then he would be good as new. It had only been within the hour, though, that he was allowed to join Ranboo. 

He was lucky. Tommy and Tubbo had argued, then begged to be let in to stay the night, but had ultimately been sent to their bunks for the night and told they could visit in the morning. It probably wouldn’t go well if Ranboo woke up alone, though, so it was a relief to all of them that someone could be there. 

They looked a little better. Cleaner, at least, which meant someone must have washed them up. They were in 13’s hospital wear, too, and hooked up to an IV, probably for nutrition and dehydration. He hadn’t gotten much of an update on their health in general yet, and probably wouldn’t until the next morning, but comforted himself with the fact that he probably would’ve been told if something was horribly wrong. 

Ranboo shifted slightly and he sat up, watching for other signs that they were waking up. It seemed that they might be, their breathing was slightly faster, too. 

“Hey,” he said, voice quiet. If they weren’t waking up, he didn’t want to be the one to wake them, but if they were, he wanted them to know they were safe before they could freak out. “You’re not in the Capitol anymore. You’re safe, now.” 

Ranboo opened their eyes, glancing around the room without a hint of recognition. 

“You’re with me,” he added, patting their arm, then leaving his hand to rest there. 

“Sneeg?” they asked, voice quiet. 

“Yeah, it’s me.” He smiled reassuringly. “We’re in District 13. There’s… there’s a lot to explain. All you need to know right now is you’re safe, got it? You’re safe, I’m alive, and we’re gonna be okay.”

Ranboo put their hand over his, holding it weakly. “Got it,” they mumbled, closing their eyes again.

“Get some more rest,” he said, like they could do anything else.

“You’ll stay?” Ranboo asked, voice almost too quiet to hear.

“Always,” he promised. “Now sleep.”

“Rule one,” they started, and he really wasn’t sure how they hadn’t passed out again yet. “Always listen to Sneeg.

“And when do you ever follow that rule?” 

Ranboo didn’t reply, having lost the battle against sleep.

“Never,” Sneeg replied for them. “You never do.” 

And yet he still put up with them, for some reason. 

He sighed and leaned forward, resting his head on his arm on the edge of the bed. If he was going to keep his promise to Ranboo, he had to get comfortable somehow. 

[saturnville]

brown sugar

pairing: lewis hamilton x black oc (victoria "tori" scott). summary: he loves her. she’s too blind to realize it. warnings: angst. reference: brown sugar (2002). wc: 5.9k. an: this took forver, ngl. and I don't even know if I like it for real LOL, but I hope you all do! tags: @boujiestpoet @mauvecherie-writes @saintslewis @greedyjudge2 @vile-harlot @emjayewrites @ggaslyp1 @neewrites @cocobutterqwueen

Working hard for what he desired was a concept that was instilled in him from a young age. If he wanted something, his father would say, it was up to him to put in the work to make it happen. He'd have help, he'd have support, but the grit had to come from within. It was a lesson he carried with him throughout his life. 

As a child, he was determined to become a successful racing driver. He'd now become the primary name in Formula One as one (if not) the greatest racing driver and the first Black driver, especially of his caliber. He'd broken barriers and found himself doing things he'd never thought he'd do; designing, producing, and mentoring. 

He was determined in every aspect of his life, including his love life. Or, the lack thereof. He was used to the fast life of money, cars, and women, but as he grew older, it seemed unappealing. Bringing random women homemade his stomach clenched in discomfort, staying out too late made his head hurt, and having a large bed to himself grew lonesome. 

But, he knew what he wanted. He put in effort to ensure that, even selfishly, he got wanted; always did. And it was going to be her.

-

"Hello?" Her voice reverberated throughout the airy penthouse. Her heels kissed the hardwood floor as she entered the foyer of his home. Her nostrils widened as she inhaled deeply. He was still present. The scent of his favorite cologne lingered and tickled her senses. "Lewis!"

"Do you like yelling my name or something?" he joked as he came around the corner. As he came into view, she smiled gently. He looked very comfortable. He wore a pair of loose-fitted black sweatpants and pulled the matching sweatshirt over his head. His hair, as usual, was pulled into a low bun and a lazy smirk played on his lips. 

She rolled her eyes playfully and welcomed his hug and kiss on the side of her neck. She shuddered. "Try again. I came to drop this off." In her hand was a black restaurant-like bag. Lewis dropped his hand to her waist and turned his head to the side. He watched as she swallowed thickly. She said, "Nothing much. I cooked and had a lot left over." 

Lewis' eyes lit up in excitement. Her love language was cooking. Her grandmother was the 

chef of her family, often teaching everyone, including herself, her family recipes. And since leaving the States to move to Europe for business, her grandmother's recipes were the bridge that kept her connected with her Mississippi roots. Lewis was always an indirect benefit of her love for her roots. 

"You spoil me," Lewis said boyishly, allowing her to put the bag in his hand. The scent was familiar. Greens, green beans, cabbage, vegan mac n' cheese (an extra step she took), black-eyed peas and rice, and a small portion of. "Thank you." Lewis visited the States plenty of times, but nothing was as fulfilling as Grandma Eve's cooking, and he learned that from the first time he went to Mississippi with her. 

"Something like that, but that's all I wanted." 

Lewis's face turned upward. "You're not staying?" She shook her head. 

"I have a date." That didn't go over well with Lewis. He grunted in disdain and took a step back from her. She pursed her lips and turned her head to the side. "Don't act like that. I told you I had a date three days ago." 

He never forgot about her date. He simply didn't care. Not because he didn't care about her happiness and romantic prosperity, he didn't believe that the guy (or any other guy, for that matter) that she'd gone out with, was worthy of her. They weren't worthy of being in her presence, let alone breathing her air. He never forgot, he just knew she deserved more. 

"Mhm," Lewis hummed. He dug into the bag and plucked a piece of cornbread from the napkin atop the containers. "Yeah, I know. Guess I gotta eat all this by myself..." She chuckled and waved him off. She dropped a kiss against his cheek and waved, "I've got to go. I'll tell you about it later." 

Lewis nodded. It made his chest hurt saying, "Enjoy, love," but by the smile on her lips, he knew she appreciated it. 

"Thank you, baby!" 

He huffed deeply as she left his home, the nickname she gave rubbing his insides warmly. He only hoped he'd still hear her say it. 

-

She met the man. She said she met the man, who took her out and was everything a partner should be. He was kind, generous, and a leader--the overall catch. He tried not to show the jealousy, the envy, the discomfort on his face when she spoke of him, of this David character. 

He tried to stay happy, smiling and supporting her newfound love with the man who seemingly swept her off her feet. Lewis kept showing up for her in every way he could until he couldn't anymore. 

There was no reason (in his opinion), to show up when another had filled his place. Lewis knew it was wrong, but how long could he accept being pushed into the background by the woman he'd come to know and love in a way most wouldn't imagine? He knew it was wrong, but his heart couldn't take it. 

Once her phone calls slowed, texts grew less, and she stopped showing up how she used to, he didn't force it. He did what most hurt people did; he fell back. 

-

"You talk to Lewis lately?" Her friend asked. Tori thought for a moment. She hadn't seen him, she hadn't spoken to him, and she hadn't been to his races in a while. Life had been on the rise and her schedule grew busy. She'd accepted the position as senior partner at the law firm and had found love. Her life had changed so much that she hardly realized their disconnect. 

Tori took a sip of her almond red wine and twisted her lips. Suddenly, the sweet red was bitter against her tongue. She didn't meet the eyes of her friend, Jen, who grew curious with her silence. Tori swirled the liquid in the cup and shrugged. "No, it's been a while. He...he reached out to congratulate me on the promotion and I was told he came to the party, but I didn't see him. I haven't heard from him since." That was a month ago.

"I did," Jen countered. "He spoke to everyone, left a gift for you, and tried to get to you, you weren't around, so he left." 

Tori's stomach jerked. How had she not seen him? She'd known Lewis like the back of her hand, which included being able to sense his presence. How had she failed? 

"You were with David for most of the night, so, that's expected. I know you two are close, so the fact that you haven't said much about him is shocking. Did you at least thank him for the gift?" 

Shame fell over her. "I never knew he got me one. I just assumed he came and went because I didn't see him. I was so focused on everything else." 

Jen's eyes narrowed. This was odd. "So you don't remember the black box with the gold ribbon? Cursive writing on the bottom?" Tori shook her head. At first, she thought it was from David, but when he did not take credit for it, she simply pushed it into the corner of her room and said she'd get to it later, along with the other gifts that awaited her attention. 

Tori groaned, "I feel terrible." She hadn't known her best friend come to celebrate with her, she hadn't recognized his handwriting on a gift he got her, and she made no effort to show up for him within the last few weeks. And even worse, she hardly realized the shift. 

"You should," Jen shrugged. "I'm all for expanding your circle, trying new things, exploring new people, but abandoning your friend in the process isn't cool, T, and you know it. He loves and cares for you a lot, so I can only imagine how it feels to ignore my calls and texts while you're living la vida loca with this new guy and his circle." 

This time, Tori's eyes narrowed. "What does David have to do with this?" 

If only she wasn't so naive sometimes. Jen chuckled and shook her head, "I see you don't know your friend as well as you think you do." 

What was that supposed to mean?

-

Tori went home that night and sauntered to the corner of her room where the remaining gifts resided. Her friends and family were quite generous, having blessed her with money for new outfits, a new lunch box to carry, coffee mugs, and decor for her new office. However, her eye was trained on the black box with a gold ribbon. It was off to itself in the corner, hidden by everything in front of it. 

Tori crawled toward it and shuffled it toward her. It was heavy in her hands. She shook it. On the bottom was the cursive writing. To My Love, congratulations on all you've accomplished. Xx, LH. 

Her forefinger and thumb pulled the ribbon and opened the box after. She couldn't stop the tears from swelling once she saw what was inside. There were small knickknacks, such as her favorite snacks that she never had the time to get and a pearl necklace that matched his. But, what tugged at her heartstrings was the letter that was framed beautifully. A letter to herself, from herself. One that she swore she'd never see again. A note was on the front. Since your dreams have become a reality, here's your reminder that you can do all you put your mind to, Xx, LH.

"I wrote myself a letter. I don't remember what I did with it, but I wrote to my future self. All things that I'd hoped to accomplish in five years." 

Lewis turned his head, "And what's that?"

Tori sighed dreamily. "I want to make senior partner. Hopefully, own property and stop renting. I want to travel and go places I never thought I'd be able to afford. I want to find love. I want to be happy, Lewis. Truly happy." 

"And you think you'll get there in 5 years? To true happiness?"

She nodded, "I do."

Dear Tori, 

I can't believe you did it! Promotion to senior partner is no easy feat. Not only are you a senior partner, but you're the youngest in company history. When the world kept trying to decline you a seat at the table, you brought a folding chair and made your presence known. I hope you're proud of yourself. 

Did you ever take that trip to Athens? I hope so. I know you're a mythology nerd. I hope you went with Lewis; he always supported your nerdiness. 

And love? Is it there yet? How is the dating pool? Is it still terrible or have you found a man that you love? Is he caring, humble, generous (not just financially), and supportive? Make sure you're not settling! You know Lewis wouldn't approve of you settling. You're too good to settle. 

Write back in five years. I can't wait to hear about what you've done. 

I'm proud of you. All the love, 

Tori

Tori sighed heavily. She'd accomplished a lot that was on her list. She made senior partner, she explored Greece, Rome, and Alexandria, Egypt for her birthday the previous year with Lewis, and had more fun than she could have ever imagined. She remembered the trip like the back of her hand. From how he surprised her with the tickets on a Saturday morning and sent her on a spa day to prepare. How he had an itinerary planned for their 14 day excursion across two continents. His intentionality and persistence in ensuring she was fulfilled never went unnoticed...until recently. 

It made her wonder...did she have everything she wanted? Sure, she got the promotion she desired and deserved, she bought a home, and she met a good man. But, did she love David, was the question, and if she didn't love him, how did she allow him and her newfound success to blind her from the genuine connections she had before? When and why had she changed? 

Her eyes wandered over the box again. To my love. She missed him, she had to admit. Seeing his beautiful smile and eyes light up whenever she walked into a room and feeling his warmth whenever he hugged her. She wondered how he was doing. Would he pick up if she called? 

-

Lewis sat on the balcony of his penthouse humming along to the music that played on the outdoor speakers. His eyes caught the twinkle of the stars above and the winks of buildings. The night, quiet and gentle, had settled into a familiar sense of loneliness. He nursed a glass in his hand, swirling the liquid around, its color catching the light of his environment. The weight of the past few weeks had weighed on him heavily, especially with the growing distance between him and Tori. 

He missed her presence in his life--their conversations, her laughter, and the way she effortlessly made his house feel like a home. He replaced their last interaction in his mind, the way she casually mentioned her date with David. The bitterness ate at him ever since, not because she was with someone else, but because he hadn't been honest with her or himself. 

Lewis sighed and set down the glass. He picked up his phone and scrolled through the messages he'd sent her, most of which went unanswered. It hurt to feel her drifting away, especially knowing she was happy with someone else. But he couldn't keep pretending that he was okay with just being her friend. He couldn't keep pretending that he didn't love her. 

His phone buzzed. A message from Tori. He felt a strange mix of hope and dread as he opened it. 

Tori: Hi...I've been meaning to catch up. It's been a while since we talked. Been thinking about you. How are you?

He stilled. She thought of him. After all this time, she thought of him. 

Lewis: Hey love. It's good to hear from you. I've been okay, just busy with everything. I'd love to catch up if you're up for it.

Lewis gnawed on his bottom lip as he awaited her reply. He saw the three bubbles appear, but they disappeared just as they appeared. Fifteen minutes went by. He sat in the same place, phone in hand, tapping the screen every time it tried to go to sleep. His jaw clenched in annoyance and his stomach churned with an emotion he couldn't identify. 

She reached out once after not speaking to him in so long, and once he replied, she disappeared. Was she purposefully playing with him? 

Lewis: I see you're busy. I hope everything's okay.

Twenty minutes later, he received another message. 

Tori: Sorry, Lew. Dinner w/ David and his friends. Can we catch up another time? 

He didn't reply. Lewis stood from the seat outside and walked into his house, leaving the phone by its lonesome all night long. 

-

There was a gathering for her friend, Tone. He wanted to celebrate his birthday at his pool house and invited his closest friends and acquaintances to join him. So, Tori packed a bag, put on the best swimsuit she owned, and walked through the double doors with a smile on her face. 

As she moved through the room, her eyes scanned for familiar faces, until they landed on Lewis, standing on the balcony, looking unusually distant. 

Even from her position, she noted how different he seemed. His usual warm and welcoming demeanor was replaced by an aloof presence. He chatted with people, but Tori noticed he wasn't as animated, not as lively. 

She debated on if she'd approach him. Before she could finish debating, her feet carried her to him, her heart inexplicably heavy. 

"Lewis," she called softly. A small smile was on her face as she stepped closer. He turned to face her. The expression on his face was unreadable. "Hey, stranger."

He offered her a small smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Hey, Tori. Long time, no see."

An awkward chuckle fell from her lips as she felt the sting of his words. However, she continued, "How've you been?"

Lewis shrugged once. "Busy." There was tension in the air, palpable and uncomfortable. Tori shifted her weight, unsure of what to say next. His demeanor was so different from what she knew. 

She looked around, noticing how everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, oblivious to the sudden awkwardness that grew like a weed. "I've missed hanging out with you," she said gently, hoping to prod at something within him. 

Lewis nodded, but there was a coldness behind his eyes. "Things change, I guess." 

Ouch. Tori swallowed hard, trying to understand where he was coming from. "You seem different. Is everything okay?"

He looked at her for a long moment. Even so concerned, she still managed to miss the point. In the same flat tone, he said, "I've been dealing with some things." He avoided her gaze after that. 

Tori's chest tightened. She realized she hadn't been there for him, too caught up in her own life to notice the distance that had grown between them. But she couldn't understand why he was being so distant now, so cold. 

Tori chewed along her lip, hesitating before she spoke again. "Is this above David?" she asked, her voice hardly above a whisper. 

Lewis's jaw ticked. He turned to face her fully, a mixture of frustration painted on his features. His eyes rolled once. "It's not just about David, Victoria," he said, his voice low but firm. She gasped slowly. "It's about everything. You're so caught up in your new life, your new job, your new boyfriend. Have you forgotten about the people who were there before all of this?"

His words hit her like a ton of bricks. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She hadn't realized the extent of the distance she manufactured and hadn't noticed how her actions were affecting those around her, especially Lewis. She felt a lump form in her throat, guilt washing over her. 

"I'm sorry," she finally managed to say, her voice cracking. "I didn't mean to push you away. I didn't realize..."

Lewis shook his head, a sad smile on his lips. "I know, love," he interrupted softly, resignation evident in his voice. "But it happened. And I can't just ignore that."

Her mind raced back to her conversation with Jen and her revelation while opening gifts. She was losing touch with what truly mattered. Standing here now, feeling the weight of Lewis's words, she understood that her new life, while exciting, had pushed away those who had been there for her. Her realization about David became clearer-while she cared for him, he didn't understand her in the way Lewis did. David's presence highlighted what was missing, rather than fulfilling her in the way he had hoped.

"I miss you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. Her eyes welled with tears as she faced the uncomfortable truth and consequences of her actions. 

Lewis looked at her, his expression softening for a moment. "I miss you too...but I can't keep pretending that everything's okay when it's not." 

The weight of his words settled heavily between them. They stood there in silence, the noise of the party fading into the background as they stood in the thick of it. Just as she prepared to say something else, she felt a hand settle around her waist. She looked up--David. Her eyes cut to Lewis, who chuckled lowly. 

"Hey, babe. Got off early." David pressed a kiss against her forehead and looked at Lewis, who stood expressionless. 

"Lew..." 

"I'll catch you around, V." With a nod toward David, Lewis set his cup down and walked away. If things kept going the way they were, he'd never speak with her again, and she couldn't live with that. 

-

A week passed and she hadn’t heard from Lewis. Her messages went unread and her calls went unanswered. It had been a week since she saw Lewis. She'd sent messages and called, all of which were ignored. She went as far as sending flowers. Flowers! David never got flowers from her. But Lewis did. 

She couldn’t get ahold of him and it drove her mad. She often pondered about what could possibly be going through his mind--was he fed up with her? 

She spent minutes, hours, and days with her eyes trained at the nearest blank wall, going through the motions in her head. Save for tonight, she didn’t have much time for that. She had an evening event planned with David that she couldn’t get out of even if she tried; she confirmed her RSVP and paid the registration fee. She’d have to suck it up and deal with it like a big girl. 

When she heard a knock on her door, she sulked to the entryway and unlocked in reluctance.

David’s presence filled the space as she stepped away from the door. "You alright?" he asked, concern knitting his brow as he took in her somber demeanor.

She forced a smile, but it felt like a mask slipping from her face. "Yeah, just a long week."

“M’fine,” she mumbled, avoiding his gaze. She swiped her purse off the side table. She tucked it under her arm, rolled her shoulders back, and nodded. “Let’s just get through tonight, okay?”

David eyed her intently but said nothing further. He opened the door and allowed her to walk ahead of him to the car, which she got in herself, as she often did because he was too busy trying to race to the driver’s side.

She scoffed. Lewis would never let her touch a door handle. 

-

The ride to the event was turmoil. David was oblivious to her turmoil as he mindlessly hummed to the pop songs on the radio as he drove.

When they arrived at the event, Tori plastered a smile on her face. T the atmosphere was vibrant--an array of colors as the theme was tropical living, with a surplus of exotic foods and drinks from all over the world. However, the underlying tension between Tori and David crept through. 

“Gonna get a drink,” David said in her ear. “Do you want anything?” Tori rejected and ushered him to enjoy himself. He pressed his lips against her forehead, to which she gave a tight-lipped smile. 

David nodded once and retreated toward the bar. She watched from a distance as he spoke with the bar attendant, breaking her gaze every once in a while to speak to others she was familiar with. But, when she saw his eyes light up and his smile widened when a woman made her way toward him, her eyes lowered. 

Who was she? She was pretty, Tori admitted. She was taller than she was, curvier in shape with light eyes. The woman leaned in, petted David’s color, and giggled at whatever he whispered in her ear. Her jaw ticked. 

The icing on the cake was when her lips touched the corner of his mouth. He did nothing. He only pressed further into her space. He seemed comfortable, which meant he’d done this before. Her tongue ran over her front teeth as her stomach bubbled and her throat grew tight, She turned on her feet and walked toward the bathroom. 

She dapped water on her face and looked in the mirror. This was not the place to fall apart. 

Tori returned to the event a few minutes later and still, David was entertaining the woman with no more shame than he had lacked before. 

As the night grew, her discomfort and frustration did, too. She spent most of her night alone speaking to familiar faces while David smooth-talked that woman. And soon enough, she couldn’t take it anymore. The more she glanced over, the more tears pooled her eyes, the shakier her voice got when she spoke, and the quicker her resolve wore down. 

“Excuse me,” she said quietly, swiftly exiting the conversation. She opened her clutch and fished out her cell phone. One way or another, she was going to leave before she suffocated. Her thumb hovered over the dial pad as she debated entering the 10-digit number she knew by heart. If she called, would he answer?

Tori gnawed on her bottom lip as she debated. Her determination to get out of the door curbed her ability to hear David calling after her. “Tori! Where are you going?” 

“I’m leaving,” she said quietly, not turning to face him. “You can continue with the girl you were with.” 

David huffed and rolled his eyes, “It wasn’t like that. You’re overreacting.” 

Tori turned slowly. “You mean to tell me that you come to an event with your girlfriend, go to the bar, snuggle with some broad, and you think it wasn’t like that?” 

The disrespect was glaring. 

David’s hands went up. “Because it wasn’t! She’s a co-worker.” Tori rolled her eyes. He disrespected her and was okay with it. He was comfortable with disrespecting her and saw no fault in it. She could only imagine what happened when she wasn’t in the room.

“Consideration is one of the best things someone can give another person,” Lewis told her as they walked along a trail. “If something would hurt you, I’d never do it to you. And if I did hurt you, unintentionally, it’s up to me to listen to you and take accountability, even if I didn’t mean to. It’s the kind thing to do.” 

What a difference between the two. Originally, David fit in the picture of what she thought she wanted, but everything was a facade. If he couldn’t admit his faults, how kind, generous, and supportive was he? What kind of leader did that make him? But Lewis, her partner through life’s ups and downs embodied empathy, understanding, and emotional maturity. 

The realization hit her hard. A mix of sadness and clarity. She’d been naive and out of the loop for so long, but in this bittersweet moment, she began to understand how she felt. Her life was good, but there was potential for more. David filled a space, but there was still a lingering emptiness without Lewis. 

Then, her conversation with Jen registered in her mind. How Lewis brought her that considerate gift, handwritten and thought out. David didn’t get her anything. Nothing but congratulations, a kiss, and an offer to buy her coffee on her first day. Her connection was nowhere near as deep and genuine as she had hoped and thought. 

The dots connected. Lewis loved her in a way she didn’t think to acknowledge. And with the revelations she had, the recent interactions with David, and the lack of interaction with Lewis that had her in emotional turmoil, she understood that she may have loved him the same way.

Everything became clear.

“Go back to her,” Tori said after some time. She held the phone to her ear and listened as it rang. “We’re done.”

The phone rang and rang. Her heart sank further as the waiting period grew longer. Then, she heard him. “Hello?” she heard on the other line. “Tori?” Hearing his voice made her eyes water. 

“Will you please come get me? I’ll be at the hotel on Fourth Street. Will you...” Tears began to flood her eyes as her frustration broke through.

She heard ruffling in the background and keys jingling. Lewis’s voice was clear, “I’m on my way.” 

Lewis arrived fifteen minutes later, waiting by the passenger door. Tori sighed in relief. When she was close enough, he opened it and assisted her in the car. 

“Thank you,” she said softly.

Lewis nodded, his eyes still trained on the road. “Anytime.”

-

The silence from the car ride lingered, thick with unspoken words and emotions. Tori stood awkwardly near the entrance, arms wrapped around herself, feeling the weight of everything she’d endured. Her eyes were red from holding back tears and her body was tense, still bracing for the chaos she left behind with Lewis. 

Lewis moved with quiet grace. He didn’t rush her, rather approached her with a familiar tenderness she forgot existed. “C’mon, let’s get you comfortable.” 

Tori found her way to the couch. Lewis knelt in front of her and lifted the hem of her dress. He took her foot in his hand, one by one, and plucked the expensive heels off her feet. Tori watched him, her breath caught in her throat. She could hardly believe how natural the ordeal felt. His touch, even in this simple act, was a balm to her frayed nerves. Her feet slipped free and she wiggled her toes, sighing in relief.

Lewis stood and offered his hand. A beat passed between them. She felt an array of emotions. Vulnerable by the events of the last few days, but she pushed them aside and took his hand. They made it to his room a few moments later. Tori followed him to his closet where a drawer full of her clothes was located. 

Without being prompted, Lewis’s hands were steady as he unzipped the back of her dress, giving her space to shrug it off. As her dress slipped down her waist and pooled at her feet, Lewis rummaged for something for her to wear, wanting to give her privacy and the dignity of handling herself. 

She couldn’t help but note the distinct difference in the approaches between David and Lewis. There was never such a powerful, wordless communication that made her feel seen. Lewis allowed her to control the pace. So, when she walked toward the bathroom and beckoned him to follow, he did. 

They faced the large mirror and Tori’s heart fluttered. He was very handsome, she noted. Still dressed from the evening’s excursions, she presumed. He wore a blue and white sweatshirt with baggy jeans and boots. A hat covered his unbraided hair but it still didn’t mask his beauty.  

Without much thought, she leaned into him. The warmth of his body eliminated the coldness she felt earlier. She closed her eyes and basked in the steady rise and fall of his chest. As she found herself relaxed against him, Lewis’s hands found their way into her hair, fingers deftly undoing the pins and ties. The sensation sends a shiver down her spine. 

Tori’s mind raced as she felt overwhelmed by the gentleness of his touch. It was all too much and yet it was exactly what she needed. Every brush of his fingers against her scalp, every slight shift of his body to accommodate her, spoke volumes. She felt her defenses crumble and a soft sob escaped her lips. 

Lewis didn’t speak; he held her. His arms wrapped around her, firm yet tender like she was a precious jewel. Tori buried her face in his shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of him. It was intoxicating; a mix of nostalgia and comfort. His grip on her was tight—he’d never let her go. Through her pajamas, she felt his warm hands caressing her back as she shuddered with emotion. He whispered sweet words in her ear, further accelerating her emotional rollercoaster. But after a few moments, ori pulled back slightly to look at him. His eyes are filled with concern and something much deeper, something that made her heart ache with longing and desire. She missed this, and she missed him much more. She missed how he saw her and knew her so well. He knew her.

“What did he do?” Lewis’s voice was low. He released an arm from her body and wiped her tears away from her eyes, ignoring the brown makeup stains on his sweatshirt and the black mascara under her eyes.  

Tori smiled sadly and shrugged her shoulders. Simply, she replied, “He wasn’t you.”

The words cycled in his head like a wheel. What did she mean by that? Did she mean it literally or was there something hidden behind her words?

“Tori…” Lewis dropped his hands from her waist and sighed. “What are you talking about?”

He needed to hear her say it all. Everything he desired to hear, he needed to hear her say it. 

“He wasn’t…he isn’t you, Lewis.”

He said nothing. 

“I don’t know what I was so clouded by but,” she paused, taking his hands in her own. “He’s not as considerate or kind, not as sensitive or sincere. He was all on a girl this evening and saw no issue with it. He didn’t open my door and saw no issue with it. Then I started thinking…you’d never do that to me because you never have.”

Lewis’s face turned up. “So it’s about what I can do for you.”

Tori’s eyes widened. “No! No, it’s about the intent behind what you do that sets you apart. You…are just so kind and considerate without wanting anything in return. Not saying you don’t deserve it, but your selflessness and overall nature are so beautiful and I cannot believe I was blind to it all this time.” Her cadence increased as she continued to rattle off her enwfound revelations regarding him. 

Lewis’s dark eyes studied her face. He searched for any trace of uncertainty. His heart pounded so loud that he heard it in his ears; a mix of emotions swarmed within him.

“Do you mean that?” he asked quietly, his voice tinged with vulnerability. 

Tori nodded empathetically, squeezing his hands tighter. “Every word. I mean every word. I was so caught up in what I thought I wanted, in what looked good on paper. But you—you’ve been the one who’s always been there, who’s always seen me, even when I didn’t see myself.”

She took a breath, “David was what I thought I wanted, but you...you’re what I need. And I can’t believe it took me this long to see it.”

Lewis swallowed, his throat tight. “It’s nice to know you might feel the same way…” His voice was thick with emotion, and for a moment, they both just stood there, letting the gravity of the moment sink in. The air between them crackled with unspoken words. Tori’s heart ached as she saw the pain in his eyes, the hurt he’d been holding onto for so long. “I’m so sorry, Lewis. For not seeing you, for not appreciating you like I should have.”

Lewis shook his head, a small, sad smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You’re here now, though.”

She blinked back tears, overwhelmed by his forgiveness. Always so kind. She stepped closer, closing the gap between them, and rested her forehead against her chest. “I’m here,” she whispered

Tori pulled back slightly, just enough to look into his eyes. “I do now,” she said softly. “And I’m sorry I made you wait. But I’m here, and I’m yours, Lewis. If you still want me.”

Lewis’s eyes darkened with emotion, and he gently cupped her face in his hands. “I’ll always want you.”

He leaned in, brushing his lips against hers in a kiss that was tender but laced with the promise of everything he’d been holding back. It was a kiss that spoke of his love, his desire, and his quiet, steadfast determination, despite all the ups and downs, to finally have what he’d always wanted—her.

[bookofthegear]

Aha! That statue is from the Vinča culture of Eastern Europe—you’d know it anywhere! Protruding almond-shaped eyes, the nose elongated until it almost forms a muzzle, posed with short, stylized arms held stiffly out to the sides…yep, classic Vinča. (Assuming 7000 years old is “classic.” Might be “vintage.” Or “heirloom,” you can’t remember.)

You can’t tell off hand if the statue is a genuine Neolithic artifact or just a good reproduction. It’s pretty well intact though, made of terracotta and stands about eight inches high. Appears to be female, with two small holes punched in each arm. Like much Vinča art, it manages to be both alien and expressive.

Nobody’s ever worked out the Vinča writing system, so nobody knows if the figures are gods, goddesses, rulers, ancestors, or the local equivalent of Barbie dolls. “Possible Ritual Significance” is archaeologist slang for “dunno, looks important.”

Apparently this one is considered of possible ritual significance in the labyrinth, because small offerings have been left in the niche at its nonexistent feet. You see withered flowers, a small dried fish, and a dozen coins, only some of which you recognize.

One of the coins you don’t recognize is triangular and very thin. You suspect that you could use a corner to wind up the clockwork bee.

Of course, that would involve taking an offering from what might be a goddess…

[waratah-moon]

Gremlin

Four times Dustin was clueless, and the one time Lucas spelled it out for him. Shout out to @lfaewrites for proofreading & encouragement!

masterlist / read on ao3 < bonus smutty drabble posted there ;) I Think We’re Alone Now < smut add on

Pairing: dad!Eddie x mom!reader

Word count: 5.1k

Warnings: Teen pregnancy (not elaborated on), cheerleader!reader, shitty parents, enemies to friends platonic!steddie Steal my writing and I will hex you

1. Eddie’s trailer

Eddie opened the door of his trailer and was very surprised to see Dustin Henderson on his doorstep.

Dustin didn't wait to be invited inside, pushing past a bewildered Eddie, “do you have my book report? I lost it after the last Hellfire meeting and I really don't want to rewrite it."

He'd never been inside Eddie's trailer before. It was slightly cluttered but in a homey-lived-in kind of way. The walls were lined with baseball caps, and a collection of novelty mugs hung above the couch.

“What, no hello? You need to work on your manners, Henderson.”

“Sorry,” Dustin looked around the living room, taking in an array of stuffed animals on one end of the couch and a pile of picture books on the coffee table. He wasn’t about to judge what Eddie Munson did in his spare time. “Nice place. Do you have my book report?”

"The one on Grapes of Wrath? I wondered who that belonged to. Let me find it," Eddie disappeared into what Dustin could only assume was his bedroom.

Dustin looked around the trailer, eyes landing on a couple of baby photos that he guessed were of Eddie. He stepped forward to get a closer look, but stopped when he felt something under his foot; it was a small toy that looked a lot like the Muppet Babies version of Fozzie Bear. Before he could investigate further, the phone rang.

Eddie came racing out of his room and breathlessly answered the phone. "Hello?" He waited for the person on the other end to respond, a smile crossing his face when they answered. “I mean, maybe. How difficult is it?” Eddie was grinning now and Dustin could swear he was twirling the phone cord like a teenage girl. “I think I can manage that. How did Gremlin do?”

Eddie's smile turned to a soft pout. He spotted Dustin out of the corner of his eye and turned away,  “I’ll see you soon, okay?” Dustin heard him mumble something into the receiver, but couldn't quite make out the words.

Once Eddie hung up the phone he walked into the kitchen and began fiddling with the knobs on the oven.

“Eddie?” Dustin raised his eyebrows as Eddie pulled a casserole dish out of the freezer and put it on the bench.

“Oh, shit. Your thing. Right. I think I know where it is. It got mixed up with the one shot we did last week,” he disappeared again, and Dustin thought he could see a glimpse of a floral patterned bedspread through the door of his room.

Eddie reappeared and handed him a few pieces of paper. "Thanks, man.” Dustin looked at the casserole dish on the bench. “So what’s for dinner?”

Suddenly, Eddie was herding him out of the trailer, “as much as I’d love for you to stay, I have a hot date.”

2. Family Video

Dustin was sitting behind the counter at family video, something Keith had adamantly stated was not allowed. Steve was the only one working, and he didn't care what Dustin did, just happy to have company during the slow part of his shift. Dustin had brought takeout from the diner up the road, only offering to share his fries when Steve had complained. "C'mon, dude, it's gonna stink of fast food in here."

The door jingled and Steve absentmindedly began his ‘welcome to Family Video’ spiel while twisting a Rubik’s cube, only stopping when he looked up at the woman who’d arrived at the counter.

“Real customer-focused service you’ve got here,” you smiled, hoisting the toddler you were holding higher up on your hip.

“Oh hey!” Steve grinned, ducking down so he was on eye level with the little girl, “how’s my favourite Cabbage Patch Kid doing?”

Cabbage Patch Kid? Dustin thought, pushing his food aside to watch the interaction.

The little girl smiled shyly, hiding her head of dark brown curls into the crook of your neck. 

You sighed, “Steve, I’ve told you before, stop insinuating my child looks like a Cabbage Patch Kid.”

“But she has the dimples,” he stood up straighter, poking his tongue out when the little girl showed her face, causing her to emit the world's cutest giggle.

“She gets those from her father, not Coleco,” you kissed your daughter's cheek, smoothing down her unruly hair. “Did Care Bears come in?”

“Sure did,” Steve pulled a tape from the counter below, scanning it.

“Great!” You looked around the store, eyes landing back on Steve. “Can you watch her for a sec while I grab a couple more?”

“‘Course!” Dustin watched as Steve held out his arms and you passed the toddler to him. The little girl’s hands instantly reached to pull for his hair while you darted off to the horror section.

“Not the hair,” Steve groaned, attempting to tilt his head backwards and away from the prying hands.

“Pretty,” the little girl mumbled, tugging a lock of Steve’s hair. Dustin stifled a laugh.

“Me? Why thank you, I think you’re very pretty too, the prettiest little Cabbage Patch Kid around,” he bumped his nose against the toddler’s, kissing her forehead. Dustin gagged. 

The scene was adorable, but it went against everything he thought he knew about Steve Harrington.

You'd found what you were looking for and arrived back at the counter, setting down two more tapes; A Nightmare on Elm Street and Splash.

“Interesting double feature,” Steve remarked, the toddler now clutching her arms tightly around his neck, refusing to let go.

“Date night,” you grinned sheepishly, holding out your arms to collect your daughter. Steve attempted to pry her off his neck, but she was clinging on for dear life.

"Seevie stay," she whined, tightening her grip on the man.

Steve scanned the tapes using his free hand, seemingly unfazed. “Oh, did you hear about Ethan Carroway?”

You dug around in your purse, finding the correct amount of money to pay for the tapes, “and Ivy Tech? I know! How dumb can you be?” You handed over cash.

“I mean, he seemed like the type though, right?” He put the tapes in a plastic bag, a bit of a challenge with only one hand but he managed, handing the bag across the counter to you.

You hummed in agreement. “Some people just don’t change. Others surprise you,” you smiled, taking in the sight of 'King Steve' Harrington pulling faces at your two year old. "C'mon Gremlin, let's get home and see if Dad taped Muppet Babies."

"Aminal?" Your daughter loosened her grip on Steve and looked at you.

"Yep," you held out your arms and she finally let Steve pass her back. You smiled at the man behind the counter. “Thanks Steve, I’ll see you later.”

"See ya," Steve called after you as you exited the store.

Dustin was gobsmacked, his mouth hanging open as he watched Steve go back to fiddling with the Rubik's cube on the counter.

"What the hell was that?" Steve jumped when Dustin spoke, seeming to have forgotten about the young teen's presence.

He managed to keep his cool, nonchalant tone, "what was what?"

"Were you just flirting with her?"

"What?!" Steve sounded offended. "With her? Of course not."

"She has a kid, Steve."

"I know," Steve had turned to look at Dustin now, leaning with his back against the register. "She has a boyfriend too. We went to high school together. She was a cheerleader, I was on the basketball team. We're friends."

"I didn't know you had other friends," Dustin cocked his eyebrow with a grin. He vaguely remembered his mom gossiping with Mrs. Wheeler about a cheerleader who got pregnant a few years ago.

Steve rolled his eyes, turning back to face the front door, "and you don't know as much about your friends as you think you do, Henderson."

Dustin frowned, "what's that supposed to mean?"

"Eat your burger."

3. Max’s trailer

Storm clouds hung over Hawkins, and rain had been attempting to sprinkle all morning. Riding their bikes all the way to the Forest Hill Trailer Park probably wasn't the smartest idea, but it was Dustin and Lucas's only mode of transport since Steve decided to pick up more shifts at Family Video.

They pulled up to Max’s trailer, the wheels of their bikes spitting up gravel as they skidded to a halt. Max had watched them ride up from the window, and she was already standing in the doorway when they reached the porch.

“What are you two doing here?”

“We were wondering if you wanted to see a movie, or go to the arcade," Lucas asked, he always sounded nervous talking to Max.

"Or do anything," Dustin added. "We're so bored." It was true. Mike was on his weekly phone call to El, and since the mall had burnt down the activities in Hawkins had become severely limited.

“I can’t," she had her headphones slung around the base of her neck, her trusty Walkman in her hand. "I’m babysitting.”

"Babysitting? Since when do you babysit?" Dustin peered over her shoulder inside the trailer, but Max moved to block his view. Over her shoulder he could see an animated movie playing on the TV, it looked like the Care Bears.

“Since we moved in here,” she shrugged.

“Huh?”

"I like her parents, they're cool, so I offered to look after Gremlin whenever they wanted some alone time. Plus her mom always brings over cookies. This time it’s peanut butter chocolate."

"You offered?"

"Is that so hard to believe?" She squinted, her tone accusatory.

"Kind of, yeah," Dustin said, groaning when Lucas elbowed him in the ribcage.

“What Dustin means is that you seem to have other interests that don’t coincide with babysitting.”

Max rolled her eyes, moving to put her headphones back on.

“Wait! Can we at least come in and hang out?”

“Nope. I’ve got other interests that don’t coincide with hanging out,” her smile didn’t reach her eyes as she shut the door in their faces.

Lucas sighed, but Dustin was already making his way to the trailer opposite Max’s.

“What are you doing?” Lucas watched, before quickly following after his friend.

“Eddie’s home, his van is out front.”

“And there's another car next to it, he has someone over," Lucas added, pointing at the red Ford Fairmont parked next to the van.

But Dustin was already knocking on the trailer door to listen to Lucas.

The door swung open, revealing a flushed and wild haired Eddie. His eyes were dark, and his tee-shirt was on inside out; when he took in that it was Dustin at the door, his expression turned from annoyed to pissed.

"Henderson? What the fuck are you doing here?"

"We were in the area," he started, turning to see that Lucas had not joined him on the porch but had stopped halfway between Eddie and Max's trailer. He continued, "do you want to hang out?"

"I'm a bit busy right now, dude," Eddie folded his arms across his chest, still glaring at Dustin.

"Do you have a girl over?" Dustin tried to peer into the trailer but only managed to spot a bowl of popcorn and a couple of VHS tapes on the coffee table.

Eddie rolled his eyes, "sure let's go with that. Are we done here?" He started to shut the door, but Dustin stuck his arm out.

"Wait! Who is it? Is it Shelley Keibler? She was totally flirting with you at lunch last week."

Eddie looked disgusted, "ugh, no, dude. She buys from me and she was flirting to get a discount; which I didn't give her, by the way."

"Then who?"

"Don't worry about it, Henderson. I’ll see you on Monday." He grinned and shut the door.

4. Hawkins High

Dustin thought Eddie was acting strange. He hadn’t said anything about Dustin’s ill timed visit when he saw him on Monday, and he hadn’t been in the cafeteria at lunch on Tuesday or Wednesday. Mike had sworn he’d seen Eddie in the library when he’d gone to get money off his sister. He seemed back to his old loud, rambunctious self on Thursday, but during Hellfire on Friday he was constantly watching the clock. When the clock struck 6pm, he was packing up, even though they were in the middle of a high tension fight.

“I’m sorry guys, I have places to be.”

“Where?”

“Oh, that little bar on the corner of nunya and business,” he grinned, stuffing his binders in his bag.

Dustin followed him out to the parking lot, expecting to watch him get in his van and drive off. Instead he was greeted with the same red Fairmont coupe that had been parked in front of his trailer. 

The following week proceeded much the same as the week prior, except this week Eddie cancelled Hellfire. And Eddie never cancelled Hellfire. The table erupted in disgruntled yelling when he broke the news over lunch on Friday, but he just sat back in silence, letting the members spit their disdain.

Dustin finally got a chance to speak with Eddie after school was let out, catching up to him in the parking lot as he was leaving.

“What’s going on? Why are you suddenly acting all weird?”

Eddie sighed, looking over at the red Ford that was parked next to Steve’s BMW. “You do know I have a life outside high school and Hellfire, right? I don’t only exist to further your quest, Henderson.”

“I know that-”

“I’ve been busy, alright? I’ve got some stuff going on.” He studied Dustin’s face, as if he was trying to figure out damage caused by a d20. “Look there’s a one shot I’ve been working on,” he grabbed a notebook out of his bag, ripped out a page, and scribbled something down before handing it to Dustin. “Come to this address tomorrow night, 7pm. Bring Wheeler and Sinclair.”

+1. Hellfire Club

Dustin, Mike, and Lucas weren’t sure where they were going, but surprisingly Steve did. In fact Steve hadn’t put up any kind of fight when Dustin asked if he could drive them somewhere for DnD. Sure he’d sighed, but that sigh was quickly followed by a shrug and a “sure.”

Steve pulled up in front of a small one story house, parking his car behind Gareth’s. Two cars were already in the driveway, a two-toned station wagon, and the red Ford Fairmont that seemed to be everywhere.

Eddie swung the door open, a grin on his face. “You’re here!” He glanced over the boys in front of him before his eyes landed on Steve. “Harrington?”

Steve held his hands up. “Don’t worry, I’m just dropping them off. Thought I’d say hi.” He pointed to the station wagon in the driveway. “Is that your new car?” Eddie nodded and Steve added, “a wagon. Very sensible.”

“I’ll have you know that’s a ‘74 AMC Matador. It has a V8 401 engine, 230 horsepower-”

“I’m going to stop you right there, I have no idea what any of that means.”

“You drive an E23. Dude, a 733i!”

“Doesn’t mean I know anything about it,” Steve shrugged. “Finally traded in the van for a family car, hey?”

Eddie rolled his eyes and turned into the house. “Babe, Harrington’s here,” he called out, before turning back to glare at Steve.

After a moment, you appeared behind Eddie, wiping your hands on a dish towel. “Steve, hey!” Dustin recognised you instantly as the woman from Family Video.

“Hey,” Steve smiled, giving you a little wave. “Wanted to see your new place.”

“Can you stay for a soda? I’ll give you the tour.”

Before Steve could move into the house, Dustin held his arm out to stop him. “Uh,” Dustin looked from you, to Steve, to Eddie, and finally to Mike and Lucas. “What’s going on?”

“Oh right! You guys haven’t met,” Eddie wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close to his side, and introduced you to the teens. “This is my girlfriend.”

Once the shock had worn off, Eddie had led the boys inside to the dining room table, where the older Hellfire members were already sitting. You lead Steve in the other direction, making good on your promise of a house tour.

“So this is your place?” Mike took in the surroundings; they were sitting in a dining room that was attached to a small kitchen. Various picture frames dotted the walls and a large potted plant sat next to the china cabinet.

“Yep, we moved in last weekend. The trailer was getting too crowded now that Gremlin’s decided to grow into a tiny human,” Mike had no idea what Eddie was talking about, but Eddie sounded horribly offended at the idea of Gremlin growing. “We’ve been planning the move for ages, but we finally had enough money to do it. Wayne seemed sad to see us go, but I think he’s happy to have the place to himself. Kind of annoying we lost Mayfield as a babysitter, though.”

Dustin seemed to have a faint inkling as to what Eddie was talking about, “I saw your girlfriend at Family Video a few weeks ago with her daughter.”

As if this was the craziest news in the world, Mike blurted out, “a kid?” His eyes darted around the room, finally taking in the several picture frames embedded with the image of a curly haired toddler.

“Yeah, Eddie’s girlfriend has a kid,” Dustin said casually, proud that he’d figured out this fact about his mentor before Mike. “It’s pretty cool you’re a stepdad.”

Eddie’s eyes widened, but Gareth, Jeff, and Grant just laughed. “Stepdad ? Henderson, no, no, no.”

Lucas shook his head, pointing to the closest picture frame; the little toddler was sitting on Eddie’s shoulders, her fingers gripping his dark brown curls, identical to her own unruly mess of hair. She looked like a mini version of him, both had mischief gleaming in their chocolate button eyes. “That’s obviously his kid.” 

Like a sign from above signifying the revelation, an egg timer went off in the kitchen.

Dustin choked on his soda. “You have a kid? How did that happen?”

Lucas whacked him on the back, attempting to stop his friend's spluttering. “How do you think it happened, dipshit?” It seemed to work.

“No,” the tips of Dustin’s ears turned pink, his voice still hoarse. “I meant-”

“You want the story,” Eddie grinned, and Gareth, Jeff, and Grant groaned. He leaned back in his chair, his hands clasped behind his head. “Settle in boys, for this is a tale for the ages.”

Gareth snorted, “What the hell are you talking about? Indie is the product of too much alcohol and an expired condom.”

“Excuse me, but Gremlin was born from an epic love story that crossed not only class barriers, but changed Hawkins society as we know it.”

Steve entered the dining room with a can of cola, you following close behind him. 

“Babe,” you rolled your eyes, having heard the conversation. You set a plate of pizza rolls down in front of the boys. “I think Gareth is a little closer to the truth. It wasn’t West Side Story .”

“You don’t think our story is romantic?”

“Our story? Sure. Teen pregnancy? Not so much.” Steve snorted.

Dustin had calmed down a bit, but he still had a lot of questions. “Wait, I’m confused. Steve said you were a cheerleader. How did you get with Eddie? You’re way out of his league.”

Surprisingly, Eddie didn’t look offended, instead he pulled you into his lap and tucked his chin over your shoulder, looking at the young teens. “You’re dead right, Henderson, she is way out of my league.” You scoffed, ready to disagree with him but he cut you off, “do you want to tell the story, babe?”

You adjusted yourself so you were sitting on Eddie’s thigh, his hands firmly gripping your waist. “My family moved to Hawkins at the start of my sophomore year. I didn’t really notice Eddie much that first year, he was a junior and we ran in very different circles.”

“I noticed her though. Straight away. Especially when she wore her cheer uniform-”

You flicked him on the shoulder, continuing with your story. “Anyway, school was out for the summer. Remember the heatwave in ‘83? I was driving down Millbrook and it was at least 100 degrees outside and the hood of my car started smoking. So I pulled over and began freaking out, because you know Millbrook, it’s all farmland and there’s no one around for miles.”

“But I just happened to be driving down Millbrook.”

“Yeah, Eddie was my knight in a Metallica cut off. He figured out what was wrong with my car, drove us to the auto shop, bought whatever it was that my car needed and fixed it for me.”

“It was super easy, she’d just run out of-”

You cut him off before he could begin to ramble about cars and the importance of checking the coolant level. “I bought him a milkshake to thank him and we’ve been together ever since.”

“And your kid?” Mike asked through a mouthful of pizza rolls.

“Gareth wasn’t far off. Pretty sure it happened after the homecoming dance that Eddie refused to attend. He snuck in my window when I got home with a bottle of peppermint schnapps and…” you drifted off, noticing the wide eyes at the table, as well as Steve's smirk. “I’ll spare you the details. Nine months later Indie was born.”

"Indie? Like Indiana?" Lucas asked, he wouldn’t admit it but the story was romantic.

"No, Indie like Indigo. Indigo Ripley Munson," Eddie said proudly, and you smiled. He'd snuck Ripley on the birth certificate before you could protest, but you had to admit your daughter couldn't ask for a better role model than the badass heroine from Alien.

It was as if her name summoned her. A bleary eyed toddler in pink footie pajamas entered the dining room, rubbing her eyes.

“Hi sweet pea,” you hoped off Eddie’s thigh, picking up your daughter and smoothing her hair. “Did we wake you?”

“Not tired,” she said, instantly contradicting herself by yawning. “Want Dadda to tell me a story,” she pushed away from you, reaching for Eddie. “With princesses.” 

As much as you wanted to be her favourite, it warmed your heart knowing how much she loved her Dad.

Eddie held out his arms to take her from you and she instantly snuggled against him. "Dad’s playing a game with his friends, do you want to listen? There’s no princesses but there are lots of monsters." She nodded, smiling. 

You knew it was futile to try and get her to go back to sleep now that Eddie had promised her a story. Knowing Eddie it would be a gory and violent story, but having sat in on many of Hellfire's campaigns, Indie was used to it. You thought it was creepy that she was enamoured with monsters, Eddie thought it was adorable.

You crouched down next to Eddie so you were on eye level with your daughter. "See those boys over there? That's Dustin, Lucas, and Mike. Do you want to say hi?"

She stuck out her bottom lip, contemplating the question before shaking her head. Dustin grinned, he liked this kid, she had spirit.

"How did you manage graduating with a kid? I mean Eddie obviously didn't," Mike said. The table went silent. Surprisingly, it was Steve that spoke up.

"He could have graduated, he just chose to put his family first, right Munson?"

Eddie looked at Steve and smiled. You stood up to glare at Mike, "Steve's right, Eddie should have graduated in '84, but he had different priorities that year."

Turning his attention to Mike, Eddie sighed, “My first senior year was when we found out about the pregnancy. My uncle got me a job working nights at the plant, so I slept through most of my morning classes. But the money was good and we were able to afford most of the stuff we needed for a new baby without asking for help. But I failed pretty much all my classes.”

You nodded. “My parents cut me off when they found out we were keeping the baby. They already hated that I was with Eddie and were looking for a reason to disown me; teen pregnancy was it. So aside from the secondhand stuff we got from the Holts’ and the Mitchells’, and that Wayne never made us pay rent, we did it pretty much all on our own. Eddie’s second senior year was also my senior year, but it was our first year with Indie too.”

“I didn’t want her skipping class, she’s too smart to not graduate. So I stayed home with Gremlin. Wayne helped out when he could, but I still managed to miss most of my classes.”

“But now, I have a job that lets us afford daycare and rent, and Eddie’s been working real hard at school. You know what they say, third times the charm.”

“This is my year, I can feel it.”

“Damn right, babe.” You leant down to kiss his cheek. “And Indie and I will be right there cheering you on when you cross that stage.”

It was all too much for Dustin to handle, hearing about this part of Eddie’s life; his girlfriend, his daughter, his connection to Steve. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, threatening to spill at any moment. He was filled with a newfound desire to protect his friend; he had a family to think about after all, hell he’d traded in his ratty old van for a station wagon.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Dustin wasn’t sure if he felt more hurt or betrayed that Eddie had kept such a big part of his life a secret.

“I never hid it, Henderson, you just never asked.”

Dustin thought back to what Steve had said all those weeks ago, ‘you don't know as much about your friends as you think you do.’ He was right, Dustin didn’t know that much about Eddie. He knew he was in a band and liked metal music, but he hadn’t asked him much in the way of personal questions.

“I’m sorry Eddie, I-”

Eddie cut him off with a lazy grin, “Relax, Dustin, we’ve got the rest of the year right?” For some reason the use of his first name instantly put Dustin at ease. He let out a breath and smiled at Eddie. “Now are we playing?”

“And that’s our cue,” you nodded at Steve, leaving the boys and Indie to their game.

Later that night, after everyone had gone home and Indie was finally tucked up in bed, Eddie said something that surprised you.

“I think we should make Steve Indie’s godfather.”

“What? You’re not religious.”

“No, I know. I don’t mean it in the whole ‘teaching faith’ way. I just,” he ran his hand through his hair. “I know he’s important to you, and he loves Indie. If something was to happen to us, I know he’d take good care of her.”

“I think that’s a great idea, babe. Is this about what he said to Wheeler?”

Eddie’s cheeks flushed, he hadn’t wanted to admit that Steve’s approval had affected him. “Maybe.”

You grinned. Steve had been your friend for a long time, since you first moved to Hawkins. You’d known him through his douchebag phase, and you were his only friend from his high school days he’d kept in touch with since he’d mellowed out. But he and Eddie had never gotten along; Eddie was too loud and brash, and Steve still held an air of elitism that although he’d mostly gotten rid of, still reared its ugly head whenever Eddie was around. 

Today, though, the two of them somewhat made an attempt at a truce. “How about we invite him for lunch and ask him?”

Eddie groaned, “ugh, can’t you just ask him?”

“It was your idea!”

“Fine, we’ll do it together.”

Baby steps.

Okay okay... I would really appreciate feedback as I worked my ass off on this one. And guys... I was so nervous my mum read this... that's the first time she's read my writing since I was in high school. @a-lil-pr1ncess @livsters

[lady-ashfade]

Can you do a kazzle dazzle were kaz is like in love with reader while reader doesn't think so and all the crows tease him and stuff because its somewhat obvious to everyone but reader. And kaz like leaves her anonymous gifts. And then maybe a love confection at the end?

Sorry if your not taking requests

What gave me away?

Kaz brekker x Fem!Reader

I’ve seen so much like this and I just love it! I want kaz to gift me things.

Notes: Longest kaz fic of mine, like I haven’t wrote this much for one character in a while. You can be a crow in this, or just work at the club.

Warnings: Fluffy, cursing I think, teasing from the group, kaz being a little soft. Maybe some angst. Spelling mistakes.

His hooded eyes stared at her fingers as she washed to counter, moving them up he looks at her face. The face that he admired and couldn’t help but feel warm when he looked at her. She wear a dress, not too fancy or too boring. She worked the bar or help the kitchen at times, so she always got stains on her dress. She looked beautiful to him even now, messy dress and a little dirt on her cheek.

She had her lips pouted a bit and at whatever she was thinking about, he found it cute. He couldn’t help but do this often, he just feel in a trace. Kaz let his mind run to far that everyone there notice his absence mind. Smirking, Nina was the first to speak. “You got a bit of drool there, boss.” She leaned close and pointed to the corner of his lips but never touched him.

Kaz broke his trance and turned to her with a glare, “Excuse me?” She laughed and sat back into her boyfriend arms. “You’re partially ripping her clothes off in your mind. And not to mention your heart is acting weird, you wanna go talk to her?” She asked with a teasing small voice as if she was talking to a child.

He took a deep breath of annoyance and rolled his eyes. “She’s using the wrong rag, she should have switched it out a hour ago.” He stated to throw their thoughts off. Nina nodded but she didn’t believe it, no one at the table did. “I don’t know boss” Jesper tapped in, “You were giving her the eyes.” He moved his eyebrows.

“What eyes?” Kit had no clue what he was talking about. Jesper laughed and turned to wylan who already knew what to do. They stare at each other with big eyes and admiring their features, like a puppy. Nina giggled and hit the table, “He looks exactly like that!” Kaz groaned at their teasing, “Stop taking or you’re all out a job.” He grabbed his cane and stood up with it.

“No, boss don’t leave.” Jesper called out as they watch him leave, “Kazzel, we’re sorry.” Nina watched him leave. Once he disappeared they all looked at each other with big smirks. “He was totally drooling.” Jesper laughed. “Totally, now” she pulled out her coin purse. “Who wants to bet on them?” The table pitched in and were planning to get Inej in on it later.

//~//

His office was quiet and he could hear the sounds dying down as the club closed and the workers left, the only person left was you and the other crows. A knock at the door made his ears perk up, he knew who it was. “Come on.” His voice sounded light and low. You step through the door with a tray in your hand and carefully walked. “What have you brought this time?” He continued to write on the paper.

You smiled and walked over to him and set the tray on the table in the corner. “Well, get ready to eat a feast.” You giggle and picked up a big plate. He pushed his paper away, he learned that even if he wasn’t hungry you wouldn’t care. You placed the plate down in front of him and set down the  utensils he needed. “Cabbage rolls, with a small side of eggs. And my favorite, seasoned potatoes.”

He looked up at you, his eyes questioning you. “We didn’t serve these tonight.” You smiled and shrugged, “They just appeared out of no where.” You walked back over to the table to get the other things you brought him. “And you’d feed this to me not knowing if it was poison?” He grabbed the fork and poked the food, but he knew you had made it. “Maybe I want whatever you have stashed around here.”

He hummed and you came back over and set down a glass of water and a smaller plate, a sweet roll on top of it. He remembered when you found out he had a sweet tooth you always got him one, he hated someone knowing that. But if it was going to be anyone he was fine with it being you.

“You better drink the whole glass of water, and eat at least half of everything.” You dropped your eyelids and leaned on his decks. “If that’s all, leave me to it.” He looked back down. Your eyes glanced over a bit and your breath hitched. Nodding you picked up the tray and walked out of the room like he told you.

“You should stay, be with me for a while.” The words you always wished to hear spoke through your head in his voice. You knew kaz was closed off, he didn’t like to show anyone anything he didn’t have to. It was known that he cared about you and the crows…But you hoped he cared more, like you did him. Each night you glanced at him, when he would walk around the bar with a glare and looked like a angry dog. You hated yourself for falling for a man that couldn’t love you back.

The next day you walked through the alleyways as the fog still covered the streets, the sun coming up and the soft light shined. You did like the morning because the way you took, there was never many people. You got to hear the birds that nest around and you could hear yourself think. Entering the club you worked and smiled at the men that work the table set up, you went to the bar. As you got closer you noticed something on the table, a box wrapped in a ribbon that wasn’t there when you closed.

Curiosity got the better of you and you looked at the note attached to it and your eyes widen as you saw your name written. There was no other name or any hint as to who it could be. It could be some sort of bomb or a poisons animal, but sometimes you couldn’t let the wonders stay. So you took of the top of the box and saw a few cookie cutters and your heart stop as you pick one of them up. You remember them from the store you went by, you stayed about a hour just convincing yourself not to waste money.

You looked up to see if anyone was looking at you, if you could spot the person who gifted it but you saw no one. Smiling big you took the box and put it under the corner. Everyone noticed the whole day you were more happy and hopping around the place. Everyone was more alive to see you like that, and it made them feel happier. When Nina asked what you were so happy about, you told her about the gift. “Who got it for you.” She raised a cup to her mouth and then took a bite of her waffle. “No clue, it wasn’t signed.” She was stunned for a moment as you walked off. Then she remembered that your boss was aways interested in your smile, so she put the pieces together.

That was just the start of the weekly gifts that were on the counter when you entered the club. Sometimes it was a flower vase with your favorite flowers. Sometimes it was new baking equipment, others it was just small things you would look at in the market. Once your shoes broke at work and you had to finish the shift with no shoes. Then, a man came in with a new pair as the club closed and that was your final straw.

You needed to find the person. They always knew what you wanted or needed. At first you thought it would be Inej because she couldn’t be seen, but you asked her and she said no. You could tell when she was lying. You asked everyone and they all said no, but you never asked kaz. It wasn’t even on your mind but it you needed to cross every box off. So when you brought him his nightly meal you had the perfect opportunity to ask.

This time his sweet was a cookie in the shape of one of the cutters he had got you. He lightly smiled with his eyes because you had used it. “Kaz.” You set down the glass on his desk. He glanced at you and then back down for you to get the words out. You tried to control the sweat coming off your body and your heart from beating fast.

“I’ve been getting these gifts, and I have no idea who they are from.” He nodded his head and picked up some food with his fork. “And are they threatening?” You shook your head and bit your lips. “No, they are sweet actually. Who ever is sending them is actually paying attention to me.” You fumbled your hands.

“Is that all you wanted to say? Why tell me this?” He sound annoyed. “Because I wanted to know if..” you stoped and looked at him. He let a few seconds pass by and looked up at you as you went silent and frozen. “If?” He asked to get you to keep going.

You needed to just bite the bullet and ask him. Part of you wanted it to be him- No. All of you wanted it to be him. To know that he pays attention to you, noticing everything like you do him. “Are you sending them?” You let out a breath. He stopped for a minute and looked into your eyes, you noticed his lips slowly curl up into a smirk.

“What gave me away?”

That wasn’t what you thought you would hear. And you actually thought you imagined it for a minute. It made your mind fly with thoughts and it took you so much by surprise, you stop working for a moment. “So, it was you?” Your brows raised themselves but crunched, he loved that look. “Hmm, but I should have guessed you would have figured me out.”

It clinked into your brain, it made your stomach fill with butterflies and heart flatter. “So, why did you do it?” You smiled at him. “I like to see you smile. I needed to show you thatI think about you non stop but, i couldn’t say it to your face.” He was truthful. “I-” he took a deep breath and raised his hand slowly and put it above yours. You he had a problem with touch, and that he was working on it.

Before you could voice your opinion he place his hand on top of your softly, it fit over yours perfectly. It was warm and the leather felt nice. “I have these feelings for you, that I don’t know what to do with. But, I’d like to have you as mine.” You smiled wide and tried not to cry, so you giggled at the overwhelming feeling.

“I will be yours, Kaz Brekker.” He actually smiled for the first time, not a small one but a bigger one. You could tell he was trying for you and you couldn’t help but find it adorable, but you couldn’t voice it. “Now, eat up and I’ll be back in a few. I want you to tell me that again.” You pranced out his office like you owned the place and acted high and mighty.

He sighed and chuckled, shaking his head at how much you affected him. The only warmth he felt inside was thinking of you, or seeing you.

“I’ll be yours kaz brekker.” He would replay those words in his head until his last breath.

[ellesthots]

Fateful Beginnings

XXIV. “natural curiosity”

parts: previous / next

plot: under extreme pressure to perform, you prepare for your first and final interview with Bruce Wayne. Batman learns intriguing info on the gruesome murder of John Doe.

pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x fem!reader

cw: 18+, mental illness, anxiety

words: 3.2k

a/n: this brings me to the end of my back-posting! we are now up to date across tumblr, ao3, and wattpad 🥳 excited to keep writing more soooon 👀

Was this some kind of cruel punishment?

If it hadn't been for Dr. Vry's unfortunately logical and desperate plea, you wouldn't have said yes—now you were left flying back for half a week. With enrollment for freshmen starting the first day of September, you had to have this in to Bridgit the morning after meeting with him. Thinking of all the belongings you'd just bought for the apartment you thought you'd be living in, you decided against a flight and booked a U-haul for that weekend instead. You'd see if Mar wanted to drive back with you in it, and if not you'd buckle down and do it yourself.

Your parents came back not an hour later. After a few minutes of hugs and chitchat they put themselves to bed, exhausted. Your mom didn't appear critically ill or markedly different in any way (besides a darker tan), so you let yourself relax for the evening out on the couch. A rerun was on the television, the air was stale, and the setting sun stabbed your eyes. You grappled with feelings of guilt as the minutes turned into hours of nothing. You loved them, but was this all you had to look forward to?

Bruce busied himself with monotonous tasks the rest of the day. The panic attack had wiped him out physically, but his mind was wired. A still-relevant yet menial task he felt he could get into a rhythm with involved stealing the giant stack of newspapers Alfred kept by his fireplace in his office for kindling. He flipped through pages and pages of decades-old Gazette publishings, refusing to indulge his curiosity as he passed the months directly preceding or proceeding his parent's murder. It felt like an impossible feat as he discarded them to his left, forcing his eyes to remain tethered to the current moment. Eventually he found clippings from the past few years, and he nestled into the corner chair to pore over their contents. Why was the Gazette failing? Why was the journalism department going to shut down? He distinctly remembered his parents reading the Gazette together every Sunday before church. On the walk to church, he remembered people sitting on park benches reading it. He only paid attention to the comic strip curated by the art majors, but even as a young kid he knew the paper was influential.

As he skimmed through the recent few years of publishing he couldn't discern why sales were lower. It was putting out relevant information that was decent to read... He stood up and walked down the hall to Alfred's room, and found him buttoning his cuffs. "Master Wayne, what's wrong?"

Bruce shook his head. "You read the Gazette, right? Do you know how many people read it?"

Alfred finished the last button and shook out his sleeves to straighten them. He shrugged. "I don't know precisely, but in concept it seems to be doing rather well. On my grocery trips I see lots of people reading it."

Bruce nodded and made some small talk for a moment about dinner ("I've been craving some sausage and cabbage soup, would you mind that, boy?") before making his way back to Alfred's office. He logged onto the computer and looked up sales for the Gazette. While there had been a decline, it had been slow and not enough to completely shut down a department. After looking into Gotham's budget, he realized there was enough budget and in fact, the majority of the Gotham finances were allocated between GCPD and GU. Looking into the school attendance rate there was still a good amount of students applying to the university; less people going into journalism, sure, but still enough to warrant continuing the major. Was Vry a particularly attentive and anxious president, or was it manipulation to get him to agree to be interviewed?

Alfred forced him away by physically walking upstairs to bring Bruce down, and they ate the soup in silence. It was warm, and soothed him enough to take the edge off his guttural sense of impending doom.

The next day he got a call from Gordon. A quick change into the suit and a back exit getaway later, Bruce found himself at the police station. The guards stiffened their spines and glared at him as he walked up; usually it didn't bother him, but after being discovered he felt every eye on him was an x-ray. He walked down a dingy, slim hallway to Gordon's office and knocked on the door. Gordon invited him in, appearing visibly stressed. "In the office on a Saturday?"

"Hey. I don't know what to tell you, but the results came in inconclusive."

Bruce narrowed his eyes. "No idea what the metal is?"

"That's not exactly the problem." He reached into the desk and pulled out a plastic EVIDENCE bag smattered with pokes from the sharp metal inside. It landed on the table with a sharp rap. "We know what it is, but we are lost as to its function."

Bruce swirled the bag so the shrapnel tilted and moved about its cage. Gordon continued. "We brought in a few dentists, even one doctor, to clarify why this might be used as a filling but no one had heard of it before." He quickly continued. "Well, one guy did. Said he used to be a chemist. He'd heard of the metal, but said it was bordering on corrosive. He couldn't make head nor tail of why it would be used in a man's mouth."

"What is it?"

"The man said 'Electrum'. I made him repeat it because it sounded made up." Gordon rolled his eyes and bit his lip, lost in thought. His tone was biting. "I just want to find these punks. Can't have someone causing crime scenes like that running loose."

He'd never heard of Electrum. He opened his mouth to speak but Gordon continued again. He's talkative today. "The man said its properties are that of a 'spark to light up the wire'. Something about conductivity. I think it's just some man who got an under-the-table dental. Probably cracked open a soda can and peeled off a clip to tuck into his gums." By the end he was mumbling, and quickly stood up.

"They were certain it's Electrum?"

Gordon nodded. "He said it was clear. Bet his life on it." And with that he left, motioning to be followed out.

Electrum. Nothing could be found on the web about it. Alfred didn't know, and there had never been a mention about it in any newspaper since 1800 (any further back he couldn't find). By this point he was exhausted, and hadn't even realized he'd pulled a whole weekend staying wide awake. He physically pored over every newspaper article himself pre-1900, his smart engine struggling and misreading the small, fuzzied print. There was nothing that could even be vaguely related to Electrum. Fuck. He dragged his feet up to bed and crashed early Sunday evening.

Had it really only been a strange, foreign filling? Usually this would be his favorite type of thing to sleuth out, something no one could find but he could; he would read the small print from an article in 1806 and solve the mystery, following its crumb trail to an ultimate victory. It was the perfect catharsis, but he was too in his head. All Monday afternoon he twiddled his thumbs and waited for evening, but when evening came he couldn't bring himself to put on his suit. That one scrap metal felt like it was lodged in his tooth, giving him an emotional toothache. He slipped into bed and laid on his back with his arms behind his head. He gazed up at the ceiling, drawing a mental map of the situation. The John Doe couldn't be traced back. Dentist, former chemist, clarified it was Electrum. Electrum can't be found anywhere. No trace of it. Testing was inconclusive. Bordering on corrosive. Man was stabbed repeatedly and hung by the blades. Owls were etched into hilt. Owls were etched into pins and rings of the Gotham University president... Bruce squinted. How could he gain more information on Dr. Vry? His first thought was a Batman interrogation, second idea stalking her in his car for a week to see what she was up to. Both options, especially the latter, caused an internal cringe. Much like he couldn't shake his suspicion about Electrum, he couldn't shake the thought you embedded in him that he was too invasive.

Being invasive to criminals isn't bad. Often, it's the only way to catch them. Your voice came into his mind. And you're assuming she's a criminal. What happened to probable cause?

Her jewelry insignias perfectly match those on the weapon in an unsolved murder.

Perfectly, huh?

Almost.

Almost, yeah.

Even imaginary you mocked him. He continued having a conversation with himself until Alfred knocked on his door. He bristled and sat upright in bed. The old man leaned against the doorframe and gazed at him, spectacled. "Wanted to check in. Social battery ran out, I assume?"

Bruce stared down at his sheets. "Unsolved murder. Can't find any clues."

"Peculiar. Not much stumps you these days."

He struggled not to receive it sarcastically given how vigilant Alfred had been about his mental wellbeing the past few months. He hoped this wasn't another request for him to meet with his therapist, but his hopes were quickly dashed. "I called New Discoveries, they have a few openings this week and next."

Bruce bit back a retort. "If I ever need her, I'll give her a call."

"Bruce,"

"Stop, please. I've got enough to deal with right now."

He leaned in and raised his eyebrows at the boy. "Your analyst could help with that."

"I don't need someone to tell me my parents died."

Alfred heaved a deep sigh. "I'm worried about you."

"I'm not talking about this." This was the push he needed to get out and into his suit. He jumped out of bed and strode firmly past him, ignoring Alfred's calls to get him to 'just make a phone call'. He was surprisingly swift getting into the suit and out on the town. Guilt plagued him at abandoning Alfred, but this was about the tenth time they'd had that conversation since June and it was making him ill. He wouldn't mind seeing his therapist again, he'd liked going after the murder, but he didn't think he could handle being forced to reckon with his mortality at this point in his progression. He still wasn't sure it existed, and until he tied up all the loose ends about the owls, or his symptoms got significantly worse, he was going to ride this last high as long as it let him.

The next few days with your parents went smoothly. It was almost like before your mom had gotten sick, plus Walter. Walter was ecstatic to see your parents back, and you no longer sobbed in the shower out of lonely desperation. You were able to distract effectively through various arts and crafts with your mom, and by the time you were starting to need 'me' time she would tire. You spent some time with your dad fixing the back deck and pulling some weeds out of the raised flower beds. You tended to the pumpkins your parents had planted in June, and harvested some bell peppers and blueberries.

You avoided thinking about Gotham until you were in Gotham; you hadn't even mentioned to your parents you'd been fired/quit, and figured they'd know when a U-Haul ended up at their house with you and Mar inside. The quiet neighborhood was relaxing when your family was around, but that desperate feeling of loneliness was pinned to your chest. The town felt more desolate after being in the city, the quiet felt heavier when they were gone, and knowing how fragile her health was you figured you'd spend more of your life without her than with her. The combination threatened to consume you, and you spent every lull in conversation and every night lying in bed unable to sleep from worry about finding your purpose in life. What interested you? What motivated you? What were your values? How could all of the above be translated into a livable life?

Where did you belong? Did you belong here, in the sleepy town with wide open skies? Did you belong in a city with skyscrapers and sardine-squishing sidewalks? You liked the access the city afforded you. When you'd first moved there, you'd been enthralled by the hundreds of restaurants and stores within a mile's radius. You'd maxed out a small credit card being silly and young, trying cuisines you'd never even heard of. You found cute themed shops that were abhorrently overpriced but nonetheless aesthetically pleasing to visit. But the city moved so fast, and just in time for you to settle into a routine with a favorite restaurant they'd be closing shop. It was cutthroat and intimidating, and you felt softer. Too soft. Life here was too slow as to be entirely, aggravatingly boring. There were only a handful of restaurants in town and they were all dying fast food chains strung out amongst various struggling mom and pop shops that wouldn't dare invite in a health inspector. But the nature was beautiful, and sometimes you loved the quiet breeze of it all. You had no friends besides Mar who you could never see leaving the city, a degree that was worthless in the current economy, and your extended family lived in south Florida for some unknown reason. You only saw them once a year at a family reunion that was usually in July, but had been postponed to Christmas. Ugh.

On Monday you set off for Gotham. You'd arrived on time a few days earlier to ensure you could properly pack your stuff. Day one was filled with throwing out the perishable groceries and giving yourself a moment to breathe outside of your childhood home. The food tasted bland, your favorite shows had lost their spark, and your bed was lumpy and hard. The floors were cement and made your feet ache with every slapping step. The water took ages to heat up compared to home, and you kept watching your step for Walter who never showed. The flight had been frustrating. Your head pounded. You felt like screaming into an empty field, creating a dust storm from pounding your hands into the dirt until you were bruised.

Day two after arriving back to Gotham, you sat down at your small desk in the corner to think up some questions. It was impossible to focus, but you kept yourself to task by repeating you'd be out of here permanently, genuinely, so, so soon. As you stared at the blank page, anxiety sprouted. It hadn't before occurred to you that everyone would be reading this; in fact, everyone would likely be seeking this out so much it would be translated to different languages hours after being published. For a moment you couldn't wrap your head around why this time felt so much more high-stakes, and then you remembered the fate of an entire university department rested on how marketable and quality this interview was... and remembered how obscenely rich and powerful the subject was. You twiddled your fingers just slightly above the keyboard, nervous to even begin to dive into it.

The first thing you did was peruse Scypher, especially their forum sections.

SEARCH: Bruce Wayne

SEARCH: Mr. Wayne

SEARCH: Bruce

SEARCH: billionaire

SEARCH: Gotham

SEARCH: Gotham City

SEARCH: Gotham and Bruce

SEARCH: Gotham and Bruce Wayne

You sifted through hundreds—if not thousands—of posts thirsting after him. There were pap photos, one-shots written daydreaming about him, some tweets hating on how rich he was (you liked those), but the vast majority were simply pining after him in a public arena. You got a small sense of what people wanted to see from him, but not enough to create a substantial question.

You went onto Google and searched the same things. A handful of articles from major news outlets were titled similarly: What We Know About Bruce Wayne, the Orphaned Billionaire. People generally knew about the circumstances of his parent's murder, that he lived at home with his maids and butlers (was there more than one Alfred?) and everything that he'd announced at Gotham University graduation. There was logistical data on his Wikipedia page such as his height, birth date, current age, and where he went to school growing up. Information for the past decade was slim, the only bits being where he attended college, his date of graduation, and his major. It appeared the only times since his parent's death he peeked out into the public eye were school-related.

No one knew anything about his personal life, and you worked yourself into a tizzy brainstorming ways to persuade him into talking about himself. Where was the line between too benign of a question and too invasive of one? What was relevant information to someone high-profile's first interview? You'd spent hours digging into the first interviews of now-major celebrities, but they all happened before they rocketed into fame. This was different: he was born famous, and now at age 30 he was finally speaking to someone. After a certain point in your research you feared you would need to be the blueprint for this kind of thing; even nepo babies had been interviewed as children, asked questions such as their favorite musicians, movies, books, and colors. How did you show the public he was normal, personable, even? Did you even want to make him appear normal, because he didn't seem it. He was an enigma. Someone you couldn't quite peg.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. What's my goal with this? No one else's, mine? What do I want to learn about him? What are my natural curiosities? This led to an immediate rush of creative energy, questions popping up left and right; you didn't care about how invasive or off-kilter they might seem. After the brainstorming, you gathered the questions into three categories: COMFORTABLE - DEEPER - DANGEROUS.

The first contained questions that were more basic, and likely wouldn't elicit an emotional response in any way to the interviewee. The second probed a bit more, considered more thorough and juicy. At this point an interviewee might be more choosy with their phrasing, or pause to think about it. The final category was fully questions of your own mind, questions you didn't think you'd ever ask but wanted to be put to paper. These were so juicy as to be intimate, so personal as to be disorienting.

When else would a woman have the leverage to ask such a dizzyingly powerful man anything she wanted?

[sebastiansallcw]

Could you pls write a fic about Sebastian and f!reader (slytherin) and their first kiss! :))))

such a cute request!! thank you for sending it!! wc: 1100+ warnings: fluff and kissing

Winter approached Hogwarts quicker than Y/N expected. Her sweaters failing to keep her frame warm, her Slytherin robe crossed over her body to retain any heat possible. After a duel of Summoner’s Court, she found her teeth chattering and skin icy to touch. Some of her opponents ridiculed her at the sight of her tucking her knees into her chest, as she watched others play their round. Y/N didn’t have enough energy in her to make a snide remark about how she was still able to win despite her frigid state.

Y/N only had one thing on her mind, sitting on the couch near the fireplace in her common room. She hoped most students would be out playing in the snow or studying for their classes to give her some space. Perhaps she also had Sebastian Sallow on her mind. 

Just a friend. All he would ever be–it’s been years since she developed a crush on him, but it never went anywhere. Just longing looks and pangs of jealousy when she saw him chatting up some Hufflepuff, leaning against the wall. 

As she made her way back to the Slytherin common room, she saw Sebastian sitting by the fireplace, right where she wanted to be. His long legs stretched out in front of him, his eyes fixed on the flames. Y/N walked up to him, hoping to warm herself up by the fire and enjoy his company. 

She always did. 

Sebastian turned when he heard footsteps approaching. His eyes brightened up at the sight of her. Sebastian would be damned if Y/N never got sorted into Slytherin, as emerald green complimented her so well–let alone, they could share moments together like these. He knew how to talk to everyone, how to swoon their hearts, but with Y/N? It’s like the cat got his tongue with her.  

"Hey, Y/N," he said, patting the spot next to him on the couch. "Come sit with me."

Y/N didn’t need much convincing, she did want to spend time with Sebastian–but she didn’t want to waste time developing her crush. She didn’t need to get butterflies around the boy, she didn’t need to get distracted by him during their classes. But the warmth of the fire was calling her and she found herself sitting down next to him. 

The two sat in comfortable silence, enjoying the warmth of the fire. She could feel her skin absorbing all the warmth possible. Y/N stole a glance at Sebastian, noticing how the firelight flickered against his features. He had way too many freckles to count. She found herself unable to look away, admiring all his features.

“You’re staring, L/N.” He mused, the corner of his mouth lifting upwards. “What’re you thinking about?” Sebastian always had a way of teasing her, but bringing her back to reality. She wouldn’t believe that Sebastian actually cared about her–but he did.

Why wouldn’t he?

Y/N shook her head, trying to snap out of it. Luckily the warmth of the fire concealed the rush of blood to her face. She tried to conjure up an excuse, but nothing logical came to mind. She doubted he’d care about how a chinese chopping cabbage bit her leg and had Professor Garlick menangle it off.  

"Nothing, just enjoying the warmth," she said.

Sebastian nodded, not quite believing her. Now it was his turn to admire her, the way she watched the fire intently. Ominis teased him about Y/N relentlessly–did he focus in class today? Did he purposely show up to class early just to sit outside to small talk with her? Or made sure that she sat beside him during Great Hall meals–despite never engaging in a conversation beyond small talk.

Y/N glanced back over at Sebastian, a mischievous glint in his eyes. She knew that he was up to something. It was the same look he would give Ominis in class, or before he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt before a duel. 

Sebastian scooted closer to Y/N, their shoulders brushing together and his hand resting beside her thigh. Y/N always admired the way his hands looked. She could feel the heat radiating off of him and it made her heart skip a beat. Y/N resisted the urge of snuggling more into his side, smelling his cologne. She tried to concentrate on the fire in front of them instead, but her mind kept wandering to the close proximity of their bodies.

"Are you cold, Y/N?" Sebastian asked, his voice low and smooth, almost as if it came out as a whisper. Y/N nodded, feeling her cheeks flush at the concern in his voice. He reached over and pulled his Slytherin robe off his shoulders, draping it over hers.

"Thanks," Y/N murmured, feeling the warmth of his robe and his body heat enveloping her. She leaned her head back against the couch, closing her eyes for a moment. Sebastian's hand brushed against hers and she opened her eyes, looking over at him. He was gazing at her with an intensity that made her heart race.

"Y/N," he said softly, his hand still touching hers. "I've been wanting to do this for a while now." And before she could even comprehend what he meant, Sebastian leaned in and pressed his lips to hers.

As their lips met, Y/N could feel the warmth of Sebastian's breath mingling with hers. His lips were soft and gentle, moving against hers with a tantalizingly slow rhythm. She could feel his hand cradling the back of her neck, his fingers threading through her hair. Sebastian's other hand moved to rest on her waist, pulling her closer to him. Y/N could feel the heat of his body through the layers of clothing as he deepened the kiss, his tongue lightly brushing against her bottom lip.

The kiss was slow and passionate, as if they were savoring each moment. Y/N could feel the electricity building between them, the intensity of their feelings for each other being poured into the kiss. She could feel her heart beating faster and faster as they kissed, her body humming with desire.

As they pulled away, Sebastian rested his forehead against hers, his breathing ragged and staring at her with a look of wonder and adoration. "I've been wanting to do that for so long," he whispered, his hand stroking her cheek. "I've always fancied you, Y/N."

“And I’ve always fancied you,” She whispered.

Y/N couldn't believe what she was hearing. All this time, she had been harboring a crush on him, and he felt the same way. She leaned in and kissed him again, this time with a passion, a desire. The fire crackled behind them as they kissed, their bodies pressed together in a warm embrace. 

[erathene]

A Fool's Hope

Summary: Aragorn has returned to Helm's Deep, which is rushing to prepare for the arrival of Isengard's Uruk army. Unfortunately, recent events take a heavy toll on the future king of Gondor, and you struggle with your own doubts as you try to pick up the pieces.

Word count: 2.3k

Pairing: Aragorn & GN!Reader 

Warnings: Whump, loss of consciousness, nausea, Aragorn is Not A Well Man™.

Author's note: It has been years since I've written anything, and real life has been extra busy as I'm now a mum to my 16 month old son. Now I'm starting to get some time back for my own hobbies I've started writing a few fics. Enjoy! 😚

..........................

Thirty sacks of grain, check.

Fifteen barrels of mead, check. 

Ten crates of carrots and twelve of cabbages, check.

Eight bushels of apples, check. 

The scratch of your quill against parchment could scarcely be heard over the hubbub of activity that was swelling through Helm's Deep. The fortress was in full preparation mode, readying for the battle that was to come. It seemed that every citizen had their own duty to fulfil; whether that be sharpening weapons at the grindstone, filling quivers with arrows or reinforcing the main gate.

Things were a little calmer here amongst the supplies and foodstuffs that had been amassed in recent weeks from the many arrivals to the fortress. Crates were neatly stacked one on top of the other whilst large oak barrels lined the thick stone wall. King Théoden had tasked you with tallying all of the rations that had been gathered together and ensuring their safe delivery to the Glittering Caves beyond the keep. To some, it may have appeared a simple task, with no true impact or merit. However, as Keeper of the Granary in Edoras, you knew all too well how plans for a siege could go disastrously awry should there not be adequate supplies to keep the troops fed and watered. The king himself would want to know the exact figures of every product stored, and most importantly how it could be stretched to cover the longest amount of time possible without his soldiers going hungry. It was a crucial part of the battle plans.

Consequently, every note you made on your parchment sheet was checked and re-checked, before the containers were carried off to the caves. The gravity and significance of the task at hand also kept your mind from dwelling on the thought of the thousands of Uruks which would soon be on the doorstep. You were no fighter, and had you not been kept busy with this charge, you might have found yourself completely overwhelmed with the anxiety of the battle ahead. 

"Those three sacks there can go next," you indicated to one of the youths who had been placed under your command for this task. "And ensure they are stored off the ground; we don't want spoiled grain on our hands." You watched as the boy nodded at your instructions and heaved a sack over his shoulder.

You turned back to your parchment paper, studying the values you had written. A few more calculations and you would be ready to present your findings back to the king and his war council, who were due to meet shortly for the final time. Presenting information to all the lords of Edoras may have intimidated some, but to you it seemed wholly insignificant compared to your apprehension of the conflict to come. 

Movement out of the corner of your eye caught your attention and you glanced up quickly. Standing before you was Lord Aragorn, his gaze passing over the various containers that were held in the small area you were working in.

"My lord," you said as you bowed your head respectfully. "Is there something I can do for you?"

This was a paltry suggestion, for the man looked more than worse for wear. You had heard other folk speak of how he had been dragged off the cliff by one of the wolves of Isengard, and how he had ridden day and night to warn Théoden's people of the doom that was marching towards them. Yet nobody had spoken of his impairment. His complexion was pale beneath the dirt and grime of the skirmish and subsequent journey here, which also extended to his hair and clothing. A torn strip of cloth was tied around his upper arm, the crude bandage failing to fully cover an abrasion that was still red and raw underneath. His posture was irregular, likely caused by bruising beneath his garments and a cracked rib or two, and he gripped the hilt of his weapon as an old man would cling to a walking stick. As you took in his appearance, you found yourself morbidly surprised that he was still standing. 

"How are our supplies looking, Grainkeeper?" Aragorn asked, referring to you in the Common Tongue translation of your Rohirric title.

"Satisfactory, my lord," you replied quickly. "We won't be living in luxury, but I believe with careful management of our food stocks, we'll be able to see ourselves through at least a month of war or longer. The majority of the supplies have already been taken to the caves and stored securely. As you can see, we are about to move the final items," you gestured to the remaining crates of legumes and bushels of apples. You reported your findings to him as you would to King Théoden, taking the opportunity to see how the results would be received. 

"Good," he nodded. "That is good."

It didn't escape your attention how his grey eyes became glassy and unmoving as you gave your report, how his hand gripped the pommel of his sword with greater tension than before. "My lord, are you quite well?" you asked tentatively.

Aragorn blinked, returning from his reverie. "Well enough," he nodded with a forced smile. 

You felt less than convinced by his response. Nevertheless, he was a grown man, and it was not your place to fuss over him. With a pretence of curiosity to cover your underlying fears, you asked him about the preparations for the defence of the keep. Truth be told, you had been far too preoccupied in the makeshift open-air storeroom to take much notice of these activities.

"The reservists are being drawn behind the main wall, and archers will be positioned to support the keep," Aragorn said in a monotonous tone, as though he had repeated the battle plans over and over many times already. "King Théoden has sent his scouts to..." His sentence trailed off as he began to blink rapidly, reaching out to steady himself on one of the barrels of mead. Any remaining colour drained from his face as his breath came short and sharp.

Worry surged in your stomach for the man as he swayed dangerously on the spot. "My lord, you really should sit down. Here," you offered kindly, upturning an empty crate for him to use as a makeshift seat. "I'll fetch you some water." 

No sooner had you turned your back, there was an almighty crash as something went tumbling into the awaiting crates and barrels. You spun around on the spot and saw Aragorn sprawled on the floor, surrounded by upturned containers and stray carrots. A few apples rolled past the prone man whose limbs were haphazardly crumpled beneath him. Rushing to his side, you lifted back the mop of dark hair that lined his face; his eyes were half-lidded and his lips parted, as if he were trying to speak but his body was completely betraying him. You called his name, but there was no reaction. Pressing your fingers to his neck, you felt his racing heartbeat echoing in his veins beneath skin that was clammy to the touch. 

You called out to him again, the panic becoming evident in your voice. "Lord Aragorn, can you hear me?" You shook his shoulder vigorously in the hope of rousing him. Just as you were about to dash off to find help, you were rewarded when he let out a low, guttural moan.

"My lord?" 

You could just about make out the "M' fine," he mumbled into the floor. His fists clenched as began to push himself up to sitting, his hair falling over his facial features as he moved.

"Come, rest against the wall here." You gestured a few feet away where there was a gap between the mead barrels and crates. None of the colour had returned to his cheeks yet, and you fretted inwardly about whether he would lose consciousness again as you aided him. Soon enough, however, the man was resting against the cool stone, taking in deep and shaking breaths with his eyes firmly shut. 

You rushed to fill a spare flagon with water from a nearby jug, the liquid sloshing as you hurried back to Aragorn. The man opened one eye as you handed him the cup. "I'm fine," he repeated, seeing the concern etched on your face.

"I'm sure you are, my lord," you said grimly. "But it would lessen my worry to see you drink." 

Aragorn extended his hand towards the flagon, but seeing how he shook uncontrollably, you brought the cup to his lips instead. Slowly, he took a few small sips as the flagon tilted.

"Better?" you asked quietly.

"Aye. Thank you," he said. You helped him take a few more sips from the flagon, satisfied by the colouring that was slowly returning to his cheeks. 

Suddenly, another voice called over the barrels. "Lord Aragorn?"

You stood quickly, and saw the voice belonged to the captain of the king's guard, Háma. He looked slightly taken aback by your sudden appearance from behind several barrels. "Captain Háma, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I am looking for Lord Aragorn. King Théoden wishes to see him immediately."

You briefly looked down at Aragorn, who was still slumped behind the barrels. At first he caught your gaze with pleading grey eyes, before his eyelids fell and his head shifted lightly from side to side to convey his refusal. You understood; he wasn't ready, not yet. 

You feigned reaching for your parchment which had been abandoned on top of a nearby barrel, hoping Háma would not be suspicious of your downward glance. "I'm afraid I have not seen him, sir. Perhaps he has gone to the armoury?"

Háma's stern gaze was fixed on you for several moments, before he frowned with disappointment. "I have already looked there, but perhaps we missed each other. As you were, Grainkeeper." He departed the area, his armour and chainmail ringing as he walked.

As soon as the captain rounded the corner, you bent back down behind the storage containers to level with Aragorn.

"Thank you," he breathed. "I am not sure I could have faced the king right now. Not while I have no strength left in me." 

"That's quite alright, Lord Aragorn. Here," you gave him a polite smile before reaching out and offering one of the apples that had been thrown in his fall. 

Aragorn blanched at the sight of the fruit. "I'm not hungry," he grunted through gritted teeth. 

"You said it yourself, you are lacking strength." From your pocket you pulled a small knife, and holding the fruit in your palm you began to slowly remove the apple skin with the edge of the blade. "This should help you recover somewhat." You cut the skinned apple into pieces in your hand, handing the man a wedge. 

Aragorn took the apple piece, but paused for a good minute or two before it entered his mouth. He chewed slowly, grinding the fruit down into a pulp, before he swallowed with a grimace. He looked like he was trying very hard not to vomit. 

You searched for a topic of conversation to draw his focus away from his churning stomach. Unfortunately, the only subject brimming the surface of your thoughts was the feeling of impending doom waiting for the siege to begin; the same feeling you had largely ignored whilst you had been occupied by your work.

You blurted out a question that had been rattling around your mind before you could even consider whether it would be appropriate to ask. "Is it true? There are really ten thousand Uruks marching on us?" 

Aragorn nodded slowly. "I'm afraid so. From the numbers I saw, Isengard is likely to be deserted."

You sighed, unable to mask your pessimism. "Ten thousand against three hundred. So there truly is no hope for us.."

"I disagree," said Aragorn quietly. "We still have hope." 

"Are we not fools to hope at all? Knowing what we are up against?"

"Nay," said Aragorn. "To hope is not foolish. We have a choice; to choose hope over fear. Choosing hope means choosing to believe that there are better days to come, if one has the courage to fight for it. That is not foolish in the slightest."

"No, I suppose not," you said, slightly surprised by the wisdom he demonstrated seemingly beyond his years. 

You suddenly heard your name being called from beyond the barrels. Rising to your feet once more, you saw the young man who had carried a sack of grain to the caves had returned. He stood obediently awaiting his next instructions, but you saw how his eyes curiously travelled around the chaos of upturned crates and loose vegetables that had appeared in his absence. "Never mind the mess now, boy," you shooed him away as soon as he held a crate of cabbages in his arms.  

"I should help you tidy up," Aragorn said firmly. "This is my doing after all."

"Are you sure, my lord?" You worried whether or not he should be standing so soon after his blackout.

"Yes. I insist," he said, slowly rising to his feet.

"That would be appreciated, thank you."

Together, you gathered up the provisions that had been thrown when the man had taken his tumble, and the chaos was soon reorganised back into neatly stacked crates. You looked around to see where you had left your parchment of notes, only to see the man holding them in his outstretched hand. 

"Remember; choose hope over fear," he said, touching your shoulder before taking his leave of you. 

His comment seemed to lighten the very air around you, the weight of complete helplessness clearing from your mind. You turned back to your parchment paper, feeling more resolved than ever to be a part of this final stand against evil, even if it was with a fool's hope.

[dabisqueen]

Slimeball line cook Dabi x fem!Reader 🦠

⇢ word count: roughly 1.8K

⇢ plot: sex on the beach

⇢ warnings: Minors DNI, line cook!Dabi has a lot of dumb pick-up lines up his greasy sleeves, smoking, drinking, unprotected sex, creampie

This is my submission for the Wet Hot Slimeball SUMMER BLOCK PARTY– hosted by @bastardblvd Pls don't take my shitty writing serious.

It's a hot and humid summer night, the heat of the bonfire making it even worse, with the flames illuminating each sweat-drenched face of the present Grimetown residents.

Who's dumb idea was it anyway, to do this during the summer?

You wipe the salty droplets off your forehead, thinking that at least you can enjoy looking at the scantily dressed men present. It's been a while since you’ve done it with anyone in Grimetown, the latest hook-up with sex shop owner Gojo needing you to go on Plan B.

Nonetheless, you feel needy tonight, like a horny teenager. The heat between your thighs undeniable, you take a deep breath, your breasts almost busting out of your skimpy bikini top.

Popping open the can of "Tramp Stamp", Grimetown's signature beer, you lift it to your lips to take a generous sip. The instantaneous taste of sulfur and cooked cabbage spreads in your mouth, making you shudder and cringe. 

What the–

Turning the can, your suspicion is confirmed when you see the expiration date. You sigh, taking another sip, ignoring the beer's foul taste. At least, it still makes you drunk; plus it's for free– courtesy of Landlord Sukuna. 

Accompanied by the shouting and jokes of the Grimetown residents, you watch Naoya - fully dressed - stumbling uncoordinatedly along the shoreline, asking repeatedly in a slurred voice if someone has seen his pink bikini. 

The wish for someone to rail your brains out outgrows you, and – as you take another sip of the beer – a certain dark-haired figure approaches. 

"Give me that–" Toji stops just a few feet away and stares at your drink, his large, muscular figure towering above you. "I'll pay you in nature."

Looking him up and down, you notice the large swell in his pink bathing trunks. Despite the urge to hook up with him for the night, the horde of rats at his feet, staring at you with their soul-piercing eyes, makes you shudder involuntarily. Your gaze snaps up to his face, eyes locking with his vibrant green ones.

"No thanks. Go and get your own." You take another sip of the beer to punctuate your words.

His expression turns sour, the scar across his lips contorting when the corners of his mouth pull down.

"'You serious?" His eyes narrow at you.

"Yup." Shrugging your shoulders, you focus all of your attention back on the almost empty can of beer.

"Cheap skank," he mutters under his breath, before he turns to saunter in the direction of the fire, with the rats following, yelling, "Who do I have to fuck to get some beer around here?"

As the bonfire continues to roast you from the front, a movement catches your attention and you turn to look.

"What’s a nice girl like you doing in a dirty mind like mine?" You hear a raspy voice, so husky and deep that it instantly spreads a warmth between your legs. 

Dabi, the cook at the local burger place "Cum n Eat", comes to a stop in front of you, a half-smoked cigarette hanging in the corner of his mouth. His hands are buried deep in his rainbow-colored swim trunks, lazy-lidded sapphire eyes gleaming down at you from above bright pink sunglasses.

"Oh for God's sake–" you grumble impatiently, "I already told Toji: go get your own fucking beer."

You roll your eyes and chug the remaining lukewarm dregs, feeling it burn down your esophagus. 

"I don't want your beer." He eyes you up and down. "Nice bikini. Can I talk you out of it?"

You almost choke. Blinking at him once, twice, you try to determine whether he's serious or not. But Dabi just grins, stepping closer and propping his sunglasses on his head. The bitter, tart smell of old grease and cigarettes starts to envelop you, as your attention is drawn in by the growing swell in the front of his trunks. Instantly, you feel a surge of pleasure light up every cell in your body. Your throat bobs as you swallow, your mouth filling with saliva.

"Are you seriously pulling these lines on me?" Your eyes quickly flick up to meet his, trying to hide the fact that you're somehow turned on by his sleazy approach. 

"If it works, it works." His eyebrows drift upwards, sly and smug, as his gaze drops down to your chest.

You notice with embarrassment how your nipples have pebbled up, their hard outlines visible through the thin fabric of your skimpy bikini top. You flinch and cross your arms over your chest, your cheeks starting to take on a pink hue.

"I think we both know what we want." Dabi looks at you a little more intense– hungrier.

You feel captivated by the striking aquamarine pools of his eyes and despite his grungy appearance, they have you imagining plenty of naughty things about him.

Fuck, you want to bang him. Badly.

"Ok, what do you have in mind?" You breathe, surprised at how needy you sound.

"Why don't I put you on my to-do list?" His tongue sneaks out, wetting his lips as he starts to stroke his cock over the fabric of his swim trunks, making it strain against his swim trunks.

"Well– better cross me off then." You reply and stand up, brushing the sand off your butt with your palms.

With a satisfied smirk, Dabi steps closer to wrap his fingers around your wrist, pulling you with him towards some protruding cliffs in the distance. 

Finding a small recess, Dabi shoves you in and pins you against the coarse rock, your meaty tits squishing against the hard surface. Taking another drag of his cigarette, he trails his free hand down the curve of your ass and pulls your bikini bottom to the side to reveal your soaked, throbbing pussy. 

"Damn girl," he chuckles as he blows out the smoke, "You're slicker than the floor of my burger place."

"Shut up," you pout, wiggling your buttcheeks, "and fuck me already."

"Can't say no to that, right?" Hooking his thumbs under the seams of his trunks, he pulls them down just enough to free his aching, pierced cock. It smacks against his abdomen before hanging heavy under its own weight, precum dripping off its tip.

Dabi sighs out another drag of his cigarette, eyes lazy-lidded, pumping himself a few times before aligning his eager cock with your aching pussy.

"I’m not a dentist, but I'm gonna give you a good filling." He growls betweed grittey teeth. Yet, you swallow back a snarky response, the teasing of his fat bulbous tip against the tight entrance of your pussy too distracting. Only a breathy moan escapes your lips, indicating how ready you are.

He dips down and the scent of cigarette smoke grows strong when his lips graze the rim of your ear. "Ready for this hot, fat Bratwurst?"

"For fuck's sake, Dabi–" you groan, "Cut it out already!"

He chuckles and takes another drag of his cigarette. Then he snaps his hips forward, plunging into you with one firm thrust, quickly stuffing you to the hilt. It tears a garbled cry from your throat as you collapse against the cold rock, your legs giving out as you struggle to accept him inside you.

"Fuck, your cunt's hotter than my cigarette." There's the barest hitch in his breath, his eyes glued to the sight of how your pussy is clenching around his girth.

He gives you hardly any time to accommodate before pulling back and forcing you to take his full length again. You bite your lips trying to suppress another strangled moan– but then he starts an even, savoring pace. 

The slow drag back and forth of his cock suddenly turns into quicker, fuller thrusts when he loses what’s left of his patience. It's all that you need, the rough friction of his barbells against your spongy walls feeling too delicious, and you can sense your orgasm growing closer and closer.

“What a sight,” Dabi rasps, watching his cock disappear relentlessly into your sloppy wet cunt with stunned awe. His hips pick up speed, pushing in and out, faster and faster, your needy moans and his throaty grunts inaudible over the cacophony of laughing, drinking, and shouting of all the others down the beach.

"Fuck," you curse, your head rolling back as you gasp for air, feeling the rough friction with each swirl of his hips.

"How do you like your eggs in the morning? Fertilized?" Dabi pants, as you eagerly meet every frantic jolt of his hips, "Cause I'm gonna cum inside of you."

"Shut the fuck up–" you cry, cunt clenching around him, "Just make me cum!"

His hips start moving even faster and each plunge into your pussy sends his cock reaching impossibly deeper inside. The sound of his length squeezing into your tightening pussy grows louder and lewder.

"Shit—” his breathing turns heavy, his jaw drops open. The cigarette tips from his mouth and onto your panties, burning a hole into them before falling on the beach sand below.

"Don't stop," You plead, feeling your climax just around the corner, your mind starting to swim. "Just like that, just a little longer!"

A broken groan leaves his lips and you feel a stutter in his movements before he stalls completely. A wet heat starts to fill you up as his cock twitches inside you, pumping you full of his sticky cum.

"Dude, what the fuck?" You turn your head, your own climax denied, leaving you utterly unsatisfied.

"What?" Dabi's lips pull up into a cocky grin. 

"I didn't cum!" You whine.

"Not my fault–" He tsks and withdraws from you with a lewd wet sound.

"You're a slimeball!" You yell, his cum dripping down your thighs onto the sand below,

"Never said I wasn't," he chuckles while tucking himself away. 

Turning on the spot, Dabi saunters off towards the bonfire. Angrily, you watch after him, still trying to regain your bearings when he starts jogging before it becomes a sprint. A familiar dark figure, surrounded by a swarm of rats, is standing by his beach towel, reaching down to grab a vacant can of beer and you hear Dabi yell, “Toji, get the fuck away from that or I’ll put your pets on my menu!”

REBLOGS, LIKES AND COMMENTS ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED!

[sockiestupidity]

Papusa Making-Miguel O'hara x platonic teen reader

Description; Reader is the complete opposite of Miguel and does not easily trust, reader gets caught stress making papusas at ungodly hours by Miguel💀Alternatively:Miguel unexpectedly befriends the newest addition to spider society over food

no spanish bc im a no sabo kid🙈(sorry if he seems too white for y'all)

warnings- lowercase intentional, bad writing/bad grammar, fluff, angst??, implied abuse/neglect, ooc miguel(acts a lot like peter b.???), not proofread, idk what else, let me know if i forgot anything🤷‍♂️ the reader is gn!!! reader is also implied to be nonverbal bc i said so🥰

also the povs slightly change at some points (just ignore it🙏)

first time writing a fanfic pls be nice :))

it was dawning 4:00 am and y/n still had yet to fall asleep, their mind preoccupied with anxiety and paranoia, they took a deep heavy breath, and tried not to close their exhausted eyes. they squeezed their eyelids shut, feeling a headache approaching, and as soon as they did, images of their past events played. they quickly shook their head, trying to get those images out of their mind. as grateful as they were for having a place to stay at hq, they could not help but think about the comforts of their own home. despite the imposing threats of their home, there was almost something cathartic about sleeping on an old bed that was on the verge of falling apart. the young spider's new housing situation felt too safe, too quiet…to… comfortable. as a new spider, they did not know for how long these types of comforts would ve provided without a cost. they almost never slept, as they felt as if they did, these comforts would suddenly gone, as if it was all a sick joke, or a dream

suddenly y/n felt something wet drip down their cheek. "am i crying?" they thought to theirself.

they took another deep breath in, trying not to hyperventilate. in times like these, y/n would usually either bake or cook (only when their parents were not present) or they would just straight up bottle their emotions. y/n sighed as they weighed their options. despite their brains constant paranoia as to what might happen if they get caught baking, they decided to go against their paranoia for once.

as y/n quietly treaded towards the communal kitchen, making sure not to wake anyone up (AN: i imagine that hq house is just a rlly big ahh house so that why theres a communal kitchen). as they looked through the contents available, they remembered that a previous spider had make masa recently, and had leftover masa that desperately needed to be used. y/n also recalled how another spider had previously made pickled vegetables and cabbage and ended up not needing it. this gave the young spider an idea. they swiftly grabbed out the needed ingredients for papusa filling. which included beans, cheese, and loroco. y/n decided to make vegetarian papusas just incase other spiders were interested in eating them. since they basically acknowledged no one in spider society, y/n decided that this could at least be seen as a token appreciation for being taken into the society.

they happily began mixing, almost forgetting the previous events that were plaguing their mind, until a large, menacing figure was seen in their field of vision. y/n suddenly stopped mixing, their hands now trembling with fear, panic clouded their mind, and their eyes began to blur, as they began hyperventilating the figure got closer. in response, y/n decided to continue moving back until they were trapped in a corner of the room.

the figure suddenly came to a halt, y/n looked up to the figure, not being able to recognize the harsh features of the figure.

the figure held a hand up, as soon as the figure did, y/n flinched. the figure suddenly donned what looked like a frown. suddenly, the figure began to speak, "hey, its going to be alright kid, i need you to breathe with me okay?" y/n nodded, still trembling with fear.

the figure began to count with their fingers, "just follow my lead, alright? in for four seconds, hold for seven, and out for eight, alright?" the young spiderlings breathing soon began to calm down after the figure repeated the exercise. soon their vision began to clear, and as soon as it did, they realized that the figure was the stoic man who led the spider society.

he suddenly spoke again, "everything alright?" y/n nodded.

"what are you doing up so late?" he asked the young spider. y/n noted how it looked like he was attempting to soften his features for them.

y/n just simply gestured to the bowl of mix, as well as the pickled vegetables and bag of masa. miguel nodded.

"i have never made papusas before but i have made tamales, could i possibly help you out?" he questioned.

y/n pondered. could they really trust this man? miguel's stature was huge, and could easily take advantage of them. y/n looked down, trying to blink away tears.

miguel attempted a look of sympathy towards the newest spider. he had felt so bad for not monitoring your earth earlier than he decided to. he had seen what had happened after it was far too late. it frustrated him, those events weren't even canon, he could've done something if he had known, there was no need for you to go through that much pain. going through his loss of his daughter made him sympathize with you, not only did you remind him of gabriella, you also reminded him of himself. he felt obligated to take care of you because of your naivete not only that, but he also didn't want to see you go down the same path of destruction he went down.

he took a deep breath in and out, "i understand why you don't trust me, and i respect that alright? but i just want to make it clear that i would never do those things to you. i want you to be able to trust me" he explained to you.

y/n looked back up. he seemed to be trustworthy op enough. after all, he was a grieving father, and seemed as if he had really cared for his daughter.

y/n gestured towards miguel, then to the abandoned products, and then to themself.

"you want me to help you?" he asked, wanting to clarify that he interpreted your gestures right. you nodded in response. he responded with a rare smile.

the two of you got to work, mixing the filling and placing it into the masa. after all the papusas were finally finished with shaping, he finally spoke up.

"maybe next time i can show you how to make tamales, we can even incorporate the banana leaves as well" he suggested.

you pondered his suggestion and nodded with a smile. even though you often did not trust adults, miguel seemed like someone you could trust, and you found it admirable that he was willing to incorporate your culture.

"alright kid, lets cook these" the two of you began to cook the papusas. when the two of you were finally done with cooking the papusas, and cleaning the area, most of spiders in the hq housing were awake, as it was around 6:00 am (AN: realistically papusa making doesn't always take that long but just ignore it for the sake of the story🙏). some of the spiders heading towards the kitchen commented on how good the kitchen smelled.

one of the spiderpeople looked towards you, "did you do this?" they asked. you gestured towards yourself and miguel, miguel simply looked away, "the big bad boss helped you out?" they questioned in shock. the spiderpeople could not believe it. the cold, harsh man had helped you, the timid new kid make food? but it seems that the surprised chatter was soon silenced as people started to eat your papusas.

needless to say that they encouraged you and miguel to cook more often.

AN: if u got this far tysm for reading, i rlly do appreciate it-feel free to leave feed back, or interact in any way🥰 i was inspired to write this bc despite the amount of miguel x hispanic reader works there were, i felt like most of them were targeted towards mexican ppl (or like some of yall forget that other latin countries besides mexico exist) and i wanted to see some rep for salvadorans

[leafcabbage]

heres a deleted scene to tide you all over

Tommy had meant to go to get lunch alone and bring it home as a lovely surprise since he was such a lovely person. Unfortunately, he managed to run into Tubbo coming home as he opened the door, who had to question where he was going. He’d thought he had plenty of time before Tubbo came home from therapy to do his sneaking around, but alas, his inability to keep track of time foiled his plans once more. 

Tubbo coming home had woken Ranboo up from napping on the couch, which prompted them to want to join Tommy, which meant of course Tubbo wanted to go, too, so it was a whole group outing now. There was a brief discussion of driving versus walking, in which Ranboo insisted that walking was fine with them and they wanted to go outside, and Tubbo gently pushed for them to accept that driving would probably be easier on them. A compromise was reached where Tubbo would drive them and they would sit outside and maybe do a little walking around a nearby park. Tommy was just happy to not have to walk a mile both ways, or take the bus. 

They got their food and found a picnic table in the park to set up at. It felt strangely idealistic, like one of those days that only existed in books and movies, but it was very much real life. Tommy was pretty sure ideal days didn’t usually include getting french fries thrown at anyone, but Ranboo had decided to attack him when he started trying to be the best cheerleader he could be every time they took a bite of anything. They had good aim, too, despite their self proclaimed awful depth perception.

Tommy had been planning to start trying to catch them in his mouth when Ranboo stopped, much to his disappointment. 

“Why’d you stop?” 

“I’d like to eat some of my food,” they replied.

“Yay! Good job, eat your—”

Another fry hit his forehead. 

He gave Ranboo a miserable look. They didn’t seem particularly moved by his pain. 

“You’re being counterproductive,” Tubbo told him, also uncaring about his pain. 

“I’m just trying to be a good friend.” Tommy sighed heavily, resting his chin on his hand. “Weren’t we gonna go on a walk?”

“Yeah, but some of us eat at normal speeds.” Tubbo looked pointedly at the empty wrappers in front of Tommy. 

He didn’t think he’d eaten <i>that</i> fast, but apparently some people disagreed. 

“It’s better fresh.”

“I think it stays fresh for more than ten minutes, you know.”

Again, Tommy was pretty sure it took him more than ten minutes to eat food, but he would very kindly not argue with Tubbo, and it wasn’t because his bad perception of time might mean that he would be wrong.

[v4narana-w0nderl4nd]

Aranara Mafia AU

-> Part 7

While Zhongli was knocked out, Venti hesitantly asked questions to the "creator".

Nahida watches while giving the aranara a blueprint for a landmine.

Ei didn't feel like talking, not after remembering what the cabbage creatures did to her land.

And finally, after 30 minutes..

Zhongli woke up, stretched a bit and..

[KCŘAÆCK]

Oh lord.

His back sounded like as crunchy as a jolly rancher.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at him.

Because of this, the cabbage people have found a new nickname for him:

"Dookie-colored arthritis nara"

Everyone then resumes their activities.

The cabbages making landmines, the "creator" and Venti talking, while Ei sits in a corner, wondering if her City has truly been demolished.

Zhongli still doesn't believe that the Creator is the one he's staring at right now, so he quietly inches towards the creator, with his weapon and..

He slices through their arm.

But instead of bleeding red, from their arm flows liquid gold.

The aranara, or cabbage people, immediately rush to the Creator's side. Some comfort them, while some try to heal their arm.

Zhongli stands there, completely petrified.

He stares at the Creator, in complete shock and disbelief.

He then approaches them, or at least tries to, only to find himself on the ground.

The sky surrounding him is no longer pink, but blue.

The other archons, except for Nahida, also find themselves out of the forest, with Venti being in Windrise and Ei being in her Plane of Euthymia.

Two of them were glad they got the chance to meet the Creator, while one was regretting every action he's done to them.

Alright, I don't really know how to continue from this point, also this chapter took me a while cuz I didn't rlly know what to write lol

If anyone has ideas, please leave them in the comments, thank you :D

Note: The series isn't done yet, I just need some inspiration 💀💀💀

Taglist:

@sparklyphantom @koima @lilqi @valeriele3 @internet-4ngel @campanula-rotundifolia @silentterri @lxkeeeee @undecidingfate @overlysour @lunarapple @dedef7890 @java-lava @esthelily @justasleepyboi @vvyeislazzy @leafanonsforest @i-need-to-touch-grassss @ra404 @yourlocaldrugdealerbutfancy @m1kali @imlost-sendhelp @reversearrowhead

[fog-and-rust]

Here we go again with screenshots

The Restricted Section has the coolest tapestries

***

Fluffy buddies

***

Stained glass with Hogwarts Founders

***

This place reminds me of an old game Keepsake (2006). I adored this game. Maybe it's the reason why I enjoy Hogwarts Legacy so much.

***

I want this writing-desk. It looks epic

***

I headcanon that this is the place Zenobia used to go to console herself after failing social interactions before MC befriended her (I always return her Gobstones. My MC is a menace to dark wizards, goblins and Puffskein Dunkein, but she is nice to Zenobia)

***

Love the ambience. Wonder if these images of Demiguise scare Mr Moon

***

Cool signs ahead, but the troll one didn't work

***

Cool aesthetic

***

Cozy corner at the entrance to Ravenclaw Common Room.

***

Their battle will be legendary! Let my Hufflepuff girl enter Ravenclaw Common Room just to vibe there.

***

He looks so soft

***

My MC is on her way to tell her classmates how awesome Chinese Chomping Cabbages are

***

Ominis gets his beauty sleep at every opportunity

***

Everett is wondering if he can change Duncan's Boggart from Puffskein into Venomous Tentacula

***

Closeup of Professor Sharp's Auror Badge (if someone needs references)

***

Bestie, stop. If you want to be dramatic, go jump from Astronomy Tower. Use Fizzing Whizzbees or Levioso to survive

***

I feel like three of them could become good friends. Each one is a loner and can be a savage so they can understand each other

***

He can infodump about ALL the ingredients in Potions Classroom and I'll listen to it for hours

***

Kink suggestion for Garreth's fans: Imagine him spoonfeeding you with his new concoction

When I saw him taking a spoon out of his pocket I cackled so loudly that I startled my dog

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

Find the word

Thanks @winterandwords here, @museandquill here, and @aziz-reads here!

Rules: post excerpts from your WIP with the given words

My words: fast, slow, still, backwards, track, praised, question, reappeared, unwieldy, cabbage, adjoining, design

Your words: peace, head, test, blank

Tagging @authorcoledipalo @authorlaurawinter @chauceryfairytales @tabswrites @mk-writes-stuff

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

@nebula--nix @literarynecromancy @honeybewrites @the-golden-comet

Keep reading for:

Ash gets help

Power control with Carla

Kelsey should not put on more adult responsibilities!!

Lexi and Ash find the portal

Robbie's eyes are like black holes

Shh...older draft of Part Three...

A bit from an older work

Carla looks for her mom

Ash out of breath

Fast - from The Secret Portal Part One (Ash POV)

“Really?!” I said, pushing myself off of the tree—a little too fast, so I almost fell over. “Um, where exactly, uh, do I go?”

Slow - from The Secret Portal Part One (Ash POV)

“You’ll be fine,” Carla comforted, not seeming to notice I wasn't nervous. “Don’t be afraid of your powers. But you must know how to control them, which is why we’re going slow.”

Still - from The Secret Portal Part One (Kelsey POV)

Still—wasn’t satisfied. I worried that Aunt Kamryn would forget that Roni would want to read a book aloud before brushing her teeth. She usually practiced her reading with me. Hopefully Mom or Aunt Kamryn were a good replacement.

Backwards - from The Secret Portal Part One (Lexi POV)

“It seems weird,” I said, almost walking backwards to keep an eye on her as I turned around the corner of the school. “Like—ah!” My boot got caught on the grass, causing my feet to slip. I tumbled onto the ground and dropped my violin, the “oof!” that followed indicating Ash tripped over the sturdy case.

Track - from The Secret Portal Part One (Akash POV)

I’d lost track of how many times I’d overheard other students fawning over that attribute. I have dark eyes, too! But apparently they didn’t have a gravity that drew everything in to its death.

Questioned - from "Eternity"

Praised - from The Secret Portal Part Three (older draft)

Inside the ambulance, the doctors were astounded by the miracle of the girl, but there was no time to praise that.

“Why did you report this to the FBI?” I questioned. “This seems like just an average missing person case--no offense. Why didn’t you report this to your local police?”

Reappeared - from The Secret Portal Part One (Carla POV)

My eyes didn’t leave my pia and the other lady. Pia disappeared into the shadows. The other lady looked around for her. Behind the lady, Pia reappeared.

Unwieldy - N/A

Cabbage - N/A

Design - from The Secret Portal Part One (Ash POV)

Adjoined - N/A

I was panting hard. The spirals on the ring’s design pressed itself into my palm. A headache was starting to form in the back of my head.

[sweetandscarlet]

secret touches | unrequited love

an: a request made by anon and i just had to write this ! i have work over this weekend and then i’ll be back to writing the rest of the requests sent in :) - if you haven’t seen my UL series, pls read to grasp the whole story. but, this one shot is focused more on smut than plot, more of the storyline will be continued in pt 4!

warnings: 18+, smut, stepmom!wanda, stepdaughter!reader, mommy kink, infidelity, dirty talk, sex with another person in the room (idk the word or if there even is one), slight nipple play & slight jealousy from reader, mention of spankings/bruising. minors DNI

words: 3.9k

“so what should we do tonight?”

your head shoots up as your father's voice forces you out of your daydream. you, your stepmom and your dad were all sitting around at the dining table as you all tucked in to eat one of wanda’s favourite recipes, and of course yours.

the smell of fermented cabbage deliciously invades your nostrils as you scoop the soup onto your spoon. wanda calls it shchi, admitting that it was a favourite of hers if she was feeling down or just needed a quick snack.

but, when it came to dinner; wanda never made anything quick. she made sure she cooked plenty for everybody, even if it was just a simple starter. it was a trait of hers that honestly floored you every time she did it, the way she cared so much to go to such great efforts when she cooked, always looking out for everybody and making sure they enjoyed what she made.

it was adorable, to say the least.

as you finished off the last couple of scoops, your eyes glanced over at wanda to see she was already finished and her gaze was focused solely on you, waiting in bated breath for your approval of her food.

you smiled at her, the corners of your lips reaching high below the creases of your eyes as they curled. “we could watch a movie tonight?”

it was an offer from you that you knew would eventually have you and wanda sitting together with thick tension floating through the air around the both of you. your minds swirling with sinful thoughts and you both fighting the urge to not pounce on each other, wanda picked up on this immediately; a smirk tugging at her plump lips as she watched the words leave your mouth.

your dad was none the wiser, he never was.

although you did still feel bad about the situation, time had passed since you last felt guilty. you were way beyond that now. your feelings for wanda overpowered the gnawing ache of shame long ago.

you loved your dad, of course, you did. he was there for you before anyone else was. he was the parent who stepped up, took care of you and raised you into the woman you are now. but, things had changed, you had changed and in your eyes (even if you knew no one would agree), it was for the better. wanda was better.

“movie night in? that’s a good idea, who wants to pick?” your father was next to speak, his voice tearing you away from the beautiful redhead who sat across from you.

finally, you heard her voice. so raspy and sickly sweet as her accent peaked through slightly on her words. “i’d like to darling, if that’s okay with you?”

your father smiled at that, his hand moving to rest on top of hers. “of course, is it something i know?”

your eyes landed on the action and jealousy instantly bubbled up deeply from your chest.

even out of the corner of her eye, wanda didn’t miss the way your gaze burned a hole through the touch. she took pity on you after a few seconds had passed as she moved her hand from under her husband's hold before patting twice on the back of his hand.

she shifted back in her chair and picked up her empty soup bowl. “i’ll give you one hint, the four horsemen”

“oh! i know, it’s now you see me, isn’t it?”

wanda smiled at him, replying with a simple ‘yes dear’ before rounding his chair to pick up his bowl, placing it inside her empty one.

when she finally reached you, wanda leaned over; a hand dropping to your shoulder to give you a small squeeze of reassurance before moving away to take away your bowl too. it definitely helped to ease your rising jealousy, although, you knew it was wrong to feel that way. wanda wasn’t yours, even if she has whispered it in your ear so many times before in past rendezvous.

as she set the empty dishes on the kitchen counter, she began to plate up another favourite dish of hers, one that you instantly grew to love called beef stroganoff.

once again, you were delighted by the smell, humming as wanda walked over to you first to set your pasta bowl down in front of you. “thank you wanda, it looks delicious”

your father gasped in faux shock as he watched you immediately eagerly dig into your food, something you wouldn’t normally do, but wanda had gracefully approved you to do that months ago, especially when she noticed you enjoying it so much.

you declined at first when she told you to eat before she had even plated her own food up, respectfully shaking your head and voicing that you didn’t want to be rude.

wanda didn’t mind, she never did.

“why do you never get this excited when i cook, y/n?”

a chuckle could be heard from wanda, your head lifting from your dish, you smiled at the sound before turning your attention to your father.

you shrugged nonchalantly, not bothering to reply as you chewed your mouthful of food.

“oh leave her be, darling. she’s just a mommy's girl.. aren’t you sweetheart?”

you swallowed hard at that, your food struggling to make its way down your throat, effectively prompting you to take a rather large sip from your glass of water.

you turned your attention back to wanda who was sporting a sinfully proud smirk on her lips, her green eyes narrowing in on you to gauge your reaction.

the sight instantly makes your thighs clench together, a dull throb forming between them as you maintained eye contact with her. wanda raises an eyebrow playfully, waiting for your response.

she was a cruel, cruel woman when she wanted to be.

“she’s right dad, i guess i am a mommy’s girl but, can you blame me?” it was the best you could do under wanda’s intense gaze and you just prayed and hoped that what you said would affect her enough to back down from the sly game she had just started.

you knew better than to think so. wanda was an enigma at best, her reactions and emotions were something she held close to herself, never letting them show unless she absolutely wanted them to.

to your surprise though, the clang of cutlery came from the kitchen counter before eventually, a lone fork fell to the ground. it was now your time to smirk as you watched wanda all flustered and apologising for being so clumsy. it was entertaining and so so rewarding to see how much you did actually affect the older woman.

ᗢ

the rest of dinner went by smoothly, albeit ignoring a few daggers from wanda as she watched you scoff down the rest of your food.

you kept silent and didn’t look at her for the remainder of your time at the table. you could tell you had riled the redhead up, and although you knew it wasn’t your fault and that she had started it, you also knew that didn’t matter. wanda would punish you for it either way and whatever she deemed fit enough for a brat to take, you’d take it.

you were now in your room, stripping yourself of your clothes before making your way into your en suite to shower before the movie started.

you hummed a random song as you stared back at yourself in the mirror, your hands combing through your hair to put it up into a makeshift bun so it wouldn’t get wet.

you reached your arm out and around the glass door to turn the knob downwards, and immediately the sound of water rang loudly through your room.

“the bruises are healing well i see, i think i might need to add a few more”

you jumped as wanda spoke behind you, her sudden appearance making your heartbeat spike dramatically.

you turned around and the first thing you saw was a grin displayed on wanda’s lips, her eyes trailing up and down your body as you stood there with your hand clenched against your chest as you attempted to catch your breath.

“fucking hell wanda, you scared the shit out of me”

wanda’s head tilted to the side at your words. “my my, what a filthy mouth for such a little girl”

you shook your head, ignoring her teasing comment before turning back around. “can you go so i can shower, please?”

“i would, but it seems to me like you don’t remember your place detka”

“mommy don’t-“

wanda tutted, her bottom lip jutting out in a feigned pout. “did you think you were all big and grown at dinner, teasing me with your snide comment?”

you gasped at that before turning around to rightfully defend your honour. “what?! mama, you started it fir-“

“that’s because mommy can. now, should i expect more from you during the movie or will you be a good girl and stay quiet?”

you were about to muster some sort of reply before deciding against it and sighing in defeat. “no, i’ll be good. i promise”

wanda smiled proudly at that before taking a step closer to you, her hands reaching up to rest on the soft skin of your shoulders. “that’s my girl,” her voice was soft as she spoke and you watched in bated breath as wanda’s pupils dilated from above you. “i miss you, you know? it feels like it’s been so long since i’ve gotten to touch you”

the redhead's hands trailed delicately over your skin, down from your shoulders and to your chest before her palms cupped your breasts. “such a handful i love it”

“mommy,” you whimpered out, your mind instantly reeling at her touch. “don’t be mean, please”

“mean? oh detka, that’s not mean,” wanda uttered, her hands shifting slightly before she took your nipples in between 2 of her fingers and twisted them, a surprised squeak being drawn out from the back of your throat. “that's mean”

your chest arched into her touch, even though your mind screamed at you to just get in the shower and ignore her temptations. ignore the ache between your thighs and the way your clit twitched at the sensation.

“i just want to touch my little girl, is that so bad?”

you shook your head, your mind now too hazy with lust to even think of forming a sentence. it still bewildered you how she could turn you into putty in her hands so quickly.

“that’s what i thought,” wanda mused, giving your now pert nipples another harsh twist before retreating backwards to give you a quick once over. “i’m going back downstairs, don’t be too long. oh and don’t even think of using your shower head, detka”

you let out a shaky exhale when wanda leaves your bathroom and exits through your bedroom door, hearing it click shut behind her.

you stand there for a minute, collecting yourself and willing your brain to focus on the task at hand. you needed to shower, but now, maybe you needed to lower the temperature a little; or a lot.

ᗢ

“y/n you’re here! we were just about to load up the dvd player, wanda made popcorn and there are some other snacks too if you want them” your father excitedly mentions as he watches you descend the staircase.

you look around to see wanda already sitting down on the sofa, her attention focused on her phone in her hand.

the curious thought of who she could be texting burned in the back of your mind, but you pushed it away instantly, not wanting to be that kind of person, especially to someone you trust.

“um great, thanks dad. where shall i sit?” you ask meekly, your eyes darting between wanda and your dad who knelt in front of the tv with a disc in hand.

the question breaks wanda’s attention away from her phone and she soon locks it before setting it down on the wooden table in front of her. the older woman’s neck strains slightly as she looks behind her to shoot you a smile. “come join me, sweetheart”

she pats the empty place next to her and your body instantly moves on autopilot at her words.

you were thankful you wouldn’t have to sit on the recliner chair next to the sofa on your own. the thought of being away from wanda right now caused a dull ache to settle in your chest.

you wanted to be near her, as close as you could be, even if your father was in the room.

wanda followed your movements as you rounded the couch and you certainly didn’t miss the way her eyes trailed up and down your body as you adorned shorts and an oversized t-shirt.

“okay, i’ll be here,” your dad voiced, breaking the silence and gesturing towards where you certainly didn’t want to be, before eventually grabbing the remote and sitting down on the one-seated chair. “if anyone needs a toilet break, let me know and i’ll pause it”

you and wanda both uttered an ‘okay’, her eyes never faltering from you as you sat down on the space next to her. you shuffled slightly, positioning your legs in a criss cross shape until your left kneecap touched wanda’s outer thigh.

if it was up to you, you’d curl up in her lap and let her stroke your hair as you watched the movie but with your current situation, you told yourself that this was the best you could do, even if the contact was minimal.

once your father hit play, you relaxed more into the cushions that pressed gently against your back and kept your focus on the screen.

you could still feel wanda’s eyes burning a hole through your head, but you fought the urge to look at her. not yet, you couldn’t. your mind was still reeling from when she was in your room and all you could think about right now was her hands on you and her lips against yours.

it was quickly consuming your every thought as you stared mindlessly at the television as the movie began to play. that was why you almost jumped out of your skin once again when you felt a hand rest against the inside of your thigh, the touch gentle and delicate against your bare skin.

your eyes flickered over to wanda, alarm bells ringing in your head as you turned quickly to check if your father had noticed. luckily, he was still none the wiser as he watched the beginning of the movie unfold.

you returned your attention to wanda once more, shooting her a knowing look that made a smile creep onto her deliciously plump lips, the corners upturning as she watched your reaction brew from confusion, and panic, until eventually, your features grew soft and you settled under her touch.

wanda could read you like a book, she could tell you craved her contact and as she turned to focus on the movie, she decided to give it to you little by little.

ᗢ

an agonising hour of little touches here and there passed by, it was painstakingly clear that by now you were a needy mess for the redhead next to you.

her hand stroking slow circles on your thigh, slowly growing bolder as they descended closer to where you ached for her before immediately retreating.

the torturous cycle went on for half of the movie, and at this point, you didn’t care who was in the room. all you could focus on was the throbbing between your legs, the way your clit twitched with need when her fingers stopped at the hem of your shorts.

the sound of snoring could be heard over the movie, even as it boomed loudly through the speakers. but, you and wanda had no intention to wake your father up; too lost in the teasing touches you received and she gave.

when wanda’s hand once again crept down the inside of your thigh, she halted her movement when soft cotton resided under her fingertips. blunt nails dug into your skin, scratching lightly as she moved inwards. the moment you felt her begin to retreat backwards, your hand flew to her wrist, stopping her movement as you gripped tightly.

“please,” the word came out in a broken whisper, your mind fuzzy and your skin feeling like it was on fire under her touch. “please”

a short dark chuckle came from the side of you. “what’s the matter, detka?”

it was cruel. so, so cruel and it made your hips buck at her words.

“don’t stop, i need..”

your words trailed off when you felt wanda begin to continue her languished movement of scratching against your skin.

she watched as your head dropped down to stare numbingly at her hand, the way her delicate fingers moved effortlessly and danced on the inside of your thigh, your skin soft and warm as she grazed closer towards where you were indefinitely much warmer.

your head lolled back against the back of the sofa when wanda moved to cup your cunt through your shorts. the older woman hummed softly at the heat she felt radiating from you, stirring her on even more to apply slight pressure.

“what do you need, my darling girl?” wanda murmured, her voice husky and low as she speaks. “use your big words, i know you can”

your teeth clamped down on your bottom lip, biting so hard you thought you’d draw blood. you canter your hips upwards, a pathetic attempt to hump against her hand as you desperately begged for her in silence to give you what you need.

your hand squeezed more around wanda’s wrist, pulling it impossibly closer to you and you continued to roll your hips against her palm. “mommy, please. i need you.. so badly”

wanda attempts to bite back a smirk but as she watches you, desperate and needy for her, she can’t help the twitch in her lips as it curls wickedly. “i’ll give it to you, but you have to stay quiet, okay? if you don’t, i’ll stop and our little playtime will be over”

you nod your head quickly, almost giving yourself whiplash at the speed. wanda shifts closer to you, her hot breath hitting the exposure of your neck as it stays lolled against the back of the sofa.

it doesn’t take long for wanda to push your shorts and panties to the side, making quick work to gain access to where you needed her.

a small gasp leaves wanda’s lips as two fingers swipe through your folds. “fuck, you’re so wet malysh. did mommy’s little secret touches get you this worked up?”

a broken whimper leaves your lips at her words, your eyes fluttering shut when slender fingers move up and down through your sopping cunt. “mama, i-“

“you don’t need to answer, doll. your body speaks for itself, you just sit there all pretty and let your mommy make you feel good”

her words burn into your brain as she whispers hotly against your ear before placing a kiss against one of your flushed cheeks. your chest heaved as wanda's fingers moved to circle your clit, her touch gentle and unhurried.

the coil in the pit of your stomach had been building ever so slowly throughout the hour as wanda teased and played you like a violin. you knew you wouldn’t last long, it was inevitable when you had such a beautiful woman feel you up in the darkness of your living room. just you and her conscious as she torturously played with you until you were in utter shambles under her touch.

the redhead's pace picks up, her circular movements growing bolder with each stroke. “you’re going to have to stay empty tonight, honey. we don’t want your messy pussy making all those delicious wet sounds, do we?”

“fuck,” you pant out, the action and her filthy words causing pleasure to course through your veins and your clit to throb hard under her fingertips. “i’m grateful for whatever you give me, mommy”

wanda hums softly, her pace never faltering as she watches your hips buck against her hand to match her movements. “i know you are, sweet angel. you’re so good to me, always such a good little girl”

it doesn’t take long for the coil in your stomach to tighten, threatening to snap at any moment. “i’m gonna- i’m gonna cum”

wanda manoeuvres her other hand to clamp over your mouth, applying pressure on your lips until she’s sure no sounds can escape. “go ahead, detka.. give mommy your cum”

it finally snaps, the coil breaking like an elastic band and your orgasm hits you hard as it washes over you in harsh waves. all wanda can do is watch you come undone in amazement, her teeth biting down on her bottom lip as she continues to circle your clit that pulsed under her fingertips.

your flushed cheeks puff out and back in as you pant heavily against the palm of her hand, your hips twitching as your orgasm flows through every nerve in your body.

after a few moments pass, your body relaxes and wanda soon slows her movements before coming to an eventual stop, her hand rising to her lips to suck and lick away any essence of you.

you sigh densely through your nostrils, your mind now basically mush as your body sinks into the sofa and wanda moves her hand away from your mouth, her attention never breaking away from your blissed-out state.

“you did so well, darling. i love seeing you like this, you look so pretty”

your chest continues to heave until you eventually catch your breath and your heartbeat slows back down to its regular rhythm. “t-thank you, that was.. i really needed that”

“i know you did, malysh. now go clean yourself up while i get you some water”

you smile at her in response and you can’t help but lean forward to place a chaste kiss on her cheek as a silent thank you before hurriedly peeling yourself off of the couch with shaky legs and over to the stairs to descend to the bathroom. the words of love and adoration linger on your tongue, but you bite back the confession. now was not the time, it would have to wait.

maybe someday, you’d tell her.

[xylodemon]

well, enough people told me to write the Cauthor thing, so i'm writing it. here's the first 600 words or so.

--

They were lying side-by-side, close enough that Mat felt Rand wake before he heard it. Rand's body snapped taut, his legs going stiff and his back arching off the hay. A whimper caught in his throat as Mat rolled toward him, then a mumbled word that might've been no. When his eyes finally opened, they were glazed and darting in the shafts of moonlight coming through the gaps in the roof, panicked in a way Mat understood all too well. The dreams were bad enough on their own, but waking in an unfamiliar place somehow made them worse.

Another whimper. Mat grabbed Rand's arm and tugged him onto his side. "Rand." Rand thrashed for a moment, only settling once his eyes focused and lit on Mat's face. Mat squeezed his arm and said, "Rand," again.

"Mat?"

"Yeah," Mat said, tugging Rand closer. "It's alright. We're alright."

They weren't alright. Nothing had been alright since Winternight. But saying so seemed to calm Rand somewhat; his breathing slowed, and his voice was a bit stronger when he spoke again.

He asked, "Where are we?"

"Some farmer's hayloft." Mat's lips bumped Rand's temple—an accident, but he didn't move away. "We broke our backs hoeing his blasted cabbages all day. Remember?"

Rand paused before saying, "Yeah," in an uncertain voice and bringing his hand up to Mat's shoulder. For the briefest moment, he gripped Mat hard enough to bruise. Then he slid his hand down, pausing first at Mat's elbow, then at Mat's waist. "The dream. It was… I was somewhere else. Somewhere—"

"I wasn't real," Mat cut in. "He isn't real."

"Did you have it too?"

Mat said, "No," and Rand buried a soft, miserable noise against Mat's throat. That was <i>another</i> feeling Mat understood all too well. He wouldn't wish these dreams on anyone, especially Rand or Perrin, but there was a twisted comfort in not having them alone. "I was already awake."

Rand shifted closer, sighing as he tangled his legs with Mat's and burrowed himself against Mat's chest. He slipped his hand around to Mat's back and knotted his fingers in the loose folds of Mat's shirt, and Mat grit his teeth as heat flared in his gut, a mix of nerves and white-hot desire he'd done his damnedest to bury once Rand and Egwene started stepping out together. But Egwene—Egwene wasn't here.

She's dead, his mind whispered. Perrin and Nynaeve too. It was just the two of them now, bound for a foreign city on a dangerous road, and the mad hope that the Aes Sedai who dragged them away from home would actually help them if she found them.

Rand tipped his head back and breathed out against Mat's jaw. Mat barely heard it when he complained, "You're not sleeping enough."

"I'm not—" Mat huffed. How could he sleep, with Fades and Trollocs chasing them, and Darkfriends lurking around every blasted corner? But the last thing he needed was Rand trying to play nursemaid, so he said, "I'm just uncomfortable, is all," in the lightest voice he could manage. "Half the bloody hay in this barn is underneath my shirt."

That pulled a laugh out of Rand, thank the Light. He slid his hand up Mat's back and curled it, still clammy with fear-sweat, at the nape of Mat's neck. His mouth grazed the hinge of Mat's jaw and lingered there—a kiss. It's just the two of us, Mat reminded himself. Just me and him. He dipped his head a little and let his lips catch the swell of Rand's cheek, then the corner of his mouth.

"Mat—"

Mat kissed him before he could say anything else, because it didn't—it didn't matter. He'd wanted Rand for years, and he'd lived on scraps as long as he could remember. He'd take this now, even though he'd likely end up paying for it later.