#he sat in his room. upside down with his legs hanging on the bed. staring at the wall with this playing in his ears | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nerdallwritey · 7 days ago

Text

Three Little Words

Summary: “Well, this has been lovely,” Astarion said, making his way to the door leading back into the inn proper. “Anything else we should know before we head off to save the day?” He was already halfway out the door, not bothering to wait for an answer, clearly trying to make a stealthy exit. You eyed Halsin, who nodded and retrieved the rogue by his arm before he could leave, closing the door behind both of them for good measure. “Let me go, you humongous imbecile!” Astarion pounded his free arm against Halsin’s chest before Halsin released him and refused to let him move a muscle towards the door. Astarion huffed and crossed his arms, turning his nose up at the rest of you. “Is he okay?” Isobel asked. “This is relatively normal behavior from him, actually,” Karlach said. OR Astarion accidentally says something nice, then acts like an idiot for the rest of the day.

Pairing: Astarion x f!reader Rating: 18+ (no smut) Word count: 8.3k CW: lots of Act 2 exposition, Rolan is a drunk dick, Astarion's scars, sitcom antics, reader is an idiot (and a bard), so is Astarion (not a bard, just an idiot, and more so than usual), Halsin's tits Spoilers: Spoilers for Act 2 (in-game dialogue, plot points, etc.) Also posted to: AO3 FAIR WARNING: This is PART 7 in my series, "Beauty and the Bard." Find the masterlist here.

a/n: PART 7 IS ALIIIIIIIIIVE!!! Thank you for waiting so patiently for this one, I had more planned for it but decided to cut it in half since I already yap too much as it is. I wanted this chapter to be a fresh enough take on the beginning of Act 2, and I hope you all enjoy! This one gets really sitcom-y at certain points which was a blast to write and I hope you have a blast reading! Part 8 is already in the works and I'm VERY excited to share that one with you all!! There's no smut in this chapter, and for that, I apologize. If all goes according to plan, Part 8 will have you covered! (Thank you to my beta @kermitwazowski, and the wonderful @arzen9 for reading!) As a reminder, last time, you fell asleep in Astarion's arms and he realized he's in love with you...

Taglist: Moved to the comment section, since tumblr hates sharing fun with friends - please let me know if you'd like to be added to the list!

You awoke to an empty bed.

Drearily and with a tired moan, your arm flung out to search blindly in the dark, trying to make sense of your surroundings. Slowly, it came back to you - you’d made it to an inn in the Shadow Cursed Lands. You’d shared a passionate night with Astarion. Perhaps the vampire whose arms you were sure you’d fallen asleep in had rolled off the bed in the night? You inched your body to the edge of the bed, hanging your head over the side and blinking rapidly to get your eyes to adjust to the darkness.

Nope. No trancing elf. Just a loose floorboard from the night before.

You flopped dramatically onto your back, staring up at the ceiling. Couldn’t vampires technically hang from ceilings? Was it possible Astarion had somehow sleep… vampired? And somehow found himself snoozing upside down on the ceiling?

No, that was stupid, of course he wasn’t on the ceiling. Though you did squint and stare above you for longer than you would ever admit to anyone.

Exhaling quietly, you sat up on your arms to scan the rest of the room before your eyes landed on a silhouette hunched in front of the drawn curtains of the room’s large window.

Astarion was muttering quietly, his arm bent behind his back. “I… F… or is it an E? Is it even a letter?” You heard him sigh and saw his frame straighten fractionally. “What damn language is this?”

You half smiled affectionately, sitting up fully against the pillows.

“Need some help writing a sonnet, Volo?” You swung your legs over the side of the bed and turned to face him.

Astarion jumped. “Ah!” You heard a loud crash as you saw his darkened form trip backwards over your discarded backpack.

“Astarion!” you cried, springing up from the bed and joining him on the ground. “Are you alright?” You brushed your knuckles over his cheek as he groaned lowly.

His eyes were shut tight in mild pain, but they opened after a moment to blink up at you. When he saw the concerned look on your face, he sat up quickly and backed away from you until his back made contact with your overturned backpack.

You frowned. “What’s wrong?”

Astarion smiled awkwardly. “Oh nothing, darling.” After a second, he said your name softly.

You narrowed your eyes and stood up, striking a match and lighting the candle on the table parallel to the bed. “I don’t believe you.”

He was staring at you in a way that gave you the sense he wasn’t listening.

“Hello?” you asked, snapping your fingers.

Astarion shook his head, regaining focus. “Apologies, dear, you caught me by surprise, that’s all.”

You crossed your arms and smiled. “That little spill of yours kind of gave that much away.”

Astarion rose to his feet and rubbed his backside. “Yes, well…” He held his upper arm awkwardly and avoided meeting your eye. Your brow furrowed, but he continued talking. “I’ve… been tracing the scars on my back with my fingers, trying to read them by touch, but I can’t. They may as well be written in Rashemi.”

There was something weird about his body language. Like he was trying to hide something from you, but you decided to focus on what he was telling you. Maybe if he kept talking, you’d figure out what was wrong.

You stepped closer, pausing when he took another step back. You spoke calmly, “Let me have a look.”

“I-” he sighed. “This isn’t your problem, you know.”

“Like hells, it isn’t,” you scoffed with a smile. “Your problems are my problems now.” You stepped forward again and took his hand. He looked you in the eye before quickly looking away. “I want to help you.” You brushed your nose against his.

A chill ran through his body, and you felt his hand tremble in yours. “Fine.”

Hesitantly, he slowly turned his back towards you.

It was rare that Astarion would purposely show you his back. You’d run your hands along the ridges of his scars numerous times, but he was reluctant to let you look at the hacked flesh directly. You assumed it was linked to the poorly hidden shame he felt towards his past, but you never looked at the marks with anything but admiration for his bravery and a sign of his survival.

Now, seeing the scars straight on by the light of the candle, you recognized the runes as a language you’d seen written many times in books and in school growing up; Infernal. The language of the Hells.

From what little you could make out, the language was fragmented and strange. This scar was just a piece of a larger text.

“And?” Astarion probed, looking over his shoulder at you. “What does it say?” Embarrassment and hopeful curiosity coated his words.

“Well, it’s certainly not a poem. In fact, from what I can tell, it might be part of a devil’s pact.”

His eyes narrowed. “Infernal pact? But not even the whole text?” He turned back to face you. “What was that bastard up to?”

“Did you ever see Cazador write in Infernal before?”

Astarion thought for a moment. “No. I could have missed it, of course, but I doubt it. Whatever he’s carved in my flesh, it’s a mystery to me.” When he realized you didn’t have some sort of quip to add, he continued. “Cazador was only figuratively hellish - there were never any devils hanging about the crypt.”

You snorted. “I wouldn’t think there would be. Though, can you imagine Mizora in a crypt? Or Raphael? He’d probably be repulsed.”

Astarion stiffened visibly. “Raphael… yes…”

You attempted to get his attention back on you by squeezing his hand. “What about him?”

He looked at you briefly, a slight smirk on his lips. “If anyone’s going to know about infernal contracts, he will.”

“I mean… That makes sense, I guess.”

Astarion pointed towards you excitedly. “I knew you’d see the pragmatic side.”

You tilted your head, thinking. “But Mizora’s kind of all about infernal legalese.”

Astarion rolled his eyes. “Sure, but Raphael has more panache. And I doubt Wyll would appreciate us summoning his devilish pact-maker.”

“Good point.”

“Unfortunately, Raphael comes and goes on his own schedule, so we’ll just have to look out for any sulfurous odors or the sound of questionable poetry.”

That got you to smile. He smiled back, and reached out to hold your elbows lightly. “You will help me, won’t you, darling?”

“Of course I will,” you said, bending up to kiss his cheek. You felt him flinch beneath your lips. “Are you sure everything is alright? You seem awfully on edge.”

“Me? On edge? Of course not!” His voice pitched up uncharacteristically and broke at the end. “I don’t know why that came out all squeaky because really,” he cleared his throat and lowered his voice comically, “I’m fine.”

You smiled skeptically. “If you say so.”

“Don’t worry about me, dearest,” he released your arms and knelt to go through his own bag. He pulled out a fresh shirt and slipped it over his head. “I think I’ll spend some time this morning studying the art of infernal negotiations.” He kissed you swiftly before pulling away as if you’d shocked him. “I’ll…” you caught him look down at the ring still gracing your left pinky, “see you later.”

With that, he quickly left the room, closing the door behind him and leaving you with nothing but the sound of Harpers patrolling outside and patrons sitting by the bar.

You exhaled loudly, staring at the door after him.

Something was definitely wrong.

Compared to last night, when he was blissed out on your tongue, and kissing your throat with fervent passion, there was no doubt something was bothering him.

But what?

You sat back on the bed, replaying the previous night over in your head. Had you done something wrong? Had you pushed him too hard to do something he didn’t want to do?

No. No, you were fairly certain he had truly enjoyed himself with you.

But then again, you were very new to sex. And new to Astarion, for that matter. Was it possible he could still pull one over on you, even though you felt like you could read him pretty well by now?

Regardless of whatever was going on with Astarion, it was clear that it had to do with you, based purely on his hesitancy to get close to you just now.

Sniffing your sleep shirt and feeling suddenly self conscious, you ran a warm bath and scrubbed yourself clean of whatever grime had clung to your body since entering the Shadow Cursed Lands.

A short time later, you found yourself exiting the bedroom, your hair damp, and fresh clothes gracing your figure. You paused in the doorway, scanning the large, open room that made up most of the first floor. Immediately, your eyes fell on the gaggle of child criminals behind the bar that you’d sicced on Astarion at the Tiefling party.

Smiling to yourself, you took a step towards the bar, only to freeze when you heard the familiarly cool tone of a tiefling wizard.

“...There’s another bottle of Arabellan dry back there,” Rolan practically spat. “Put it on the bar, then piss off and leave me alone.”

Zaki and Meli, two of the tiefling kids, exchanged glances before Zaki upturned his nose at Rolan.

“Jaheira said we should serve drinks, but that we shouldn't serve drunks.”

Slurring his words mildly, Rolan pointed an accusatory finger at the children. “Jaheira didn’t save your ragged little tail from the cultists. I did.”

You stepped forward and made eye contact with Zaki and Meli who smirked when they recognized you. You winked at them and they nodded before turning their backs on Rolan and focusing their attentions within the bar.

“Given the constant darkness, I know it’s fairly difficult to tell the time, but I’m pretty sure it’s a little too early in the day to get this sloshed.” You took a seat beside Rolan.

He looked over at you and rolled his eyes. “Oh. It’s you.”

You pursed your lips at his tone and rested your head on your hand. “Hi Rolan.”

“Don’t you get tired of telling people how to live their lives?” He took a big swig from his stein before scowling at you and turning away. “If you’re here to save the day again, you’re a little late this time.”

You sat up straighter, suddenly aware of the absence of Cal and Lia. “What happened? Where’s-”

“Oh, sod off,” he hissed. “I’m only here because you ‘helped’ me and my family.”

“I-”

“I was ready to cut and run back at the Grove, but you had other ideas.” Rolan gestured erratically with his mug and free hand.

You leaned in fractionally, attempting to calm him down enough to tell you what was happening. “Rolan, where-”

“Cal and Lia were taken in by your crap,” he slurred. “You convinced them to play hero, and now they’re gone.”

You bit your lip and looked around, feeling stupid when you obviously caught no sight of the siblings. “Do you know where they are?”

Rolan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and whipped his head to look at you with a scowl. “Dead, for all I know. Or in the cult’s tower with the others who were taken.”

“Taken,” you repeated, your voice catching in your throat. You looked around frantically, taking note of the tieflings you recognized. Doing a mental headcount, it appeared that the kids were almost accounted for, minus Mol, who you knew was around here somewhere, and Arabella, who was probably with Mol, but there was a distinct lack of adults you’d met back at the Grove. You spotted Alfira sitting alone at the hearth, with Lakrissa nowhere to be seen. Zevlor was also noticeably missing.

They must have been attacked on their way to Baldur’s Gate and taken to Moonrise. You hoped that was the worst of it, praying silently to whichever god was listening that the tieflings would be okay.

As your eyes continued to scan the taproom, you spotted Shadowheart, Wyll, Lae’zel, and Karlach talking pointedly with Jaheira over a map spread out over her desk. Their attention was drawn away from the map for a moment when Astarion strode by them with a heavy tome from a wall of books, over to a table where Gale was reading what appeared to be a small book of poetry. It seemed as though Gale had just recently sat down without Astarion’s knowledge, because the vampire gathered up a stack of books resting on the table and rerouted to an empty one out of earshot from the wizard.

When Astarion caught your eye, he froze momentarily and you sent him a small smile. His eyes flicked between you and Rolan, his brow furrowing ever so slightly. You shook your head minutely, causing him to turn back slowly towards his empty table and dust off the newest book you assumed was full of Infernal translations of some kind. You pretended not to notice him watching you closely.

Rolan, meanwhile, was still brooding over his ale. “Get the bottle,” he nodded at Meli, “give me the bottle - it’s not hard.”

Meli crossed his arms. “I don’t want to.”

“And I don’t want to give you a lashing,” Rolan slurred, “but I will, damn it.”

“Whoa,” you said, holding up both hands, “let’s not resort to threatening kids just because we’re angry.”

You laid a gentle hand on Rolan’s arm, only for him to shake you off roughly.

“How dare you tell me - me - how to live my life. After everything I’ve just said.”

Before you had a chance to respond, a flash of silver glinted before your eyes as Astarion slammed a dagger into the wood of the counter between you and Rolan.

“Is there a problem here?” he asked, sidling up next to you, and helping himself to a bottle of red wine within reach. His books laid abandoned at his empty table not too far off.

“You gonna pay for that?” Zaki asked with a huff.

“Quiet, child whose name I’ve never cared to learn.” You crossed your arms and gave Astarion a look before he rolled his eyes and extended his neck towards you. “She’ll cover it.”

You rolled your eyes in return and reached into your pocket to hand the tiefling a gold piece.

“I knew I liked you,” Zaki smirked before running off to show the other kids his loot.

Astarion raised an eyebrow. “Gold, darling? Really?”

“I think we’ll survive,” you said softly before pulling the knife out of the countertop and laying it gently on its side.

Astarion caught sight of the blade and refocused his attention on the bitter wizard beside him. “As I said, is there a problem here?” His words came out like a growl and his hand flexed as if preparing to strike, before realizing his dagger was on the counter, and instead opted for a swig of his overpriced wine.

“No problem at all,” Rolan said in mock nonchalance. “It’s only that your partner here led my siblings to their doom.” He slammed his mug on the counter, earning a few curious and annoyed looks from other patrons and passing Harpers.

“Okay good, so no problem then,” Astarion took another swig of his wine.

“Astarion,” you hissed before turning back to Rolan. “We’ll rescue them.”

“If they’re alive,” Astarion muttered. He nearly choked when you forcefully nudged him with your elbow.

“Bullshit,” Rolan snapped. “If they’re alive, I can save them. They’re my responsibility.” He downed the rest of his drink before boldly turning to face you and Astarion head on. He puffed out his chest, attempting to look bigger. “You go save the world, or your own arse, or whatever it is you do.”

“Hey,” Astarion slammed down his own bottle and rose to his full height, “your useless siblings would be lucky to be saved by her.”

“How dare you,” Rolan moved closer to Astarion, but you weaved in-between them before either of them could get their hands on the other. Patrons were starting to stare. You even caught Jaheira turning to give you a curious raise of her eyebrow.

“Both of you, cut it out.” You placed a hand on Astarion’s chest to keep him at bay, and didn’t dare to touch Rolan again. Astarion, in turn, took your hand and brought it to his mouth for a kiss.

“Listen here, you shoddy excuse of a wizard,” Astarion clutched your hand to his chest and refused to let it go when you attempted to pry it free, “if this woman offers her help, she means it. And based on our numbers, eight, I believe, as opposed to your, what? One?”

“Astarion-”

“I’d say you should take her up on that offer.”

Rolan scoffed. “As if your oafish party could infiltrate Moonrise unnoticed. I’ll have a much easier time sneaking in by myself.”

Astarion laughed airly. “Oh, please, darling, you set one foot outside the protective barrier on this place and the shadows will come for you. You’ll go mad and join your siblings in the great beyond.”

“Astarion, please,” you said sharply and finally pulled your hand free from his grasp.

“I don’t have to listen to this,” Rolan said flatly. He got up to leave, stumbling a bit as he headed in the direction of the entrance.

Astarion crossed his arms with a smug look of triumph on his face. He called after him with the finishing blow: “Do tell the shadows I miss their cold embrace when they swallow you whole.”

The comment made Rolan turn on his heel and march back, sidestepping you and pressing an accusatory finger into Astarion’s chest. “Why is it so important to you whether my family lives or dies? Huh? Do you get some sort of… boon? From whatever devil created a fanged freak like you?”

Your eyes darted back and forth between the tiefling and the vampire, smiling awkwardly at patrons who passed by and shrugging as if to say, “Can you believe these guys?”

Astarion laughed again. “Darling, I couldn’t care less about the fate of you, or any other refugee for that matter.”

A look of confusion passed over Rolan’s face before it morphed back into a scowl. “Then why do you care about this?”

“I don’t.”

“You do!”

You stepped forward, bringing your hands up to try and offer a showing of peace. “Come on, boys. Rolan, we’d be happy to look for your siblings and help however we can. Astarion, why don’t we leave Rolan to think about it for a bit and-”

Rolan shook his head. “Oh no, I’m going after Cal and Lia on my own, and you can’t stop me.”

Astarion rolled his eyes. “A mistake.”

“Leave me to my own choices, will you?!”

“Not when your choices are objectively stupid and illogical!” He took a step forward, causing Rolan to take an indignant step back. Astarion smirked and looked down his nose at his opponent. “Which is funny, seeing as how you tote yourself around as if you’re some big wizard prodigy.” He took another step forward and lowered his voice menacingly. “Why don’t you use that brain of yours and stay here, where you can’t bother anybody else?”

This time, Rolan stood his ground and raised his voice. “Why do you care?!”

“Because she cares and I love her!”

Time froze.

Astarion was locked in a stare down with Rolan, as if his declaration was the most obvious thing in the world and not something that had just changed everything.

I love her.

The words replayed your mind like the most beautiful melody you’d ever heard.

Astarion had a way of doing that; reciting words or sounds or phrases that quickly became your new favorite songs.

But this time, you couldn’t quite believe what you were hearing.

“What?” Your hand reached out and brushed his softly.

Astarion jolted and slowly turned to look at you, sudden panic flashing over his features. “What?”

“You said-”

“Nothing. I said nothing.”

“No, you said-”

He raised his voice to speak over you. “I said something devastating to this wizard, rendering him absolutely shattered, isn’t that right, wizard?” He looked to Rolan for help, but Rolan’s eyes were wide with discomfort.

“Oh, this… was that the first-? While you were yelling at me? Yikes.” He began to back away slowly.

Astarion lunged forward to grab him, but Rolan’s tipsiness worked to his advantage and somehow allowed him to bob out of the elf’s grasp.

“Get back here!” Astarion floundered, but you caught him by the wrist.

“You said you loved me!” You were smiling widely, your heart the fullest it had ever been.

“No I didn’t!” Astarion snatched his hand out of yours and turned to face you while actively backing away.

You laughed in thrilled disbelief. “Yes you did!”

“No I didn’t!” He crossed his arms in front of himself as if you were a demon coming to rip his unbeating heart out of his very ribs.

“You love me!”

“No I don’t!” He sounded almost like a child as he insisted he hadn’t just said the three little words you’d been so eager to hear.

“Astarion, I-”

“Your move, Mol,” a sultry voice reached your ears, somehow piercing through your train of thought and what you had been about to confess. You scrunched your nose at the suddenly overpowering scent of cherries masking a fouler stench of sulfur.

Astarion was frozen leaning away from you, but his eyes shifted towards the voice and then back to you before he darted in Raphael’s direction.

“Astarion!” you called after him, hot on his heels.

He barely turned to respond. “Can’t hear you darling, important business must be attended to!”

“This is important business!” you countered.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, dearest!” He came to a halt in a smaller room connected to the large tap room. You stopped short behind him, nearly slamming into his back.

Immediately you spied Raphael sitting elegantly in front of a game of lanceboard. Mol was sitting opposite from him, squinting at the pieces and analyzing her current position.

“You trapped me,” she said, annoyed. “I didn’t even want to take this one.”

“Calimshan rules, dear,” Raphael explained, and Astarion groaned quietly next to you. “The first piece touched is the first piece moved.”

“Boring,” Astarion muttered.

Mol huffed. “That’s garbage! No matter where the knight goes, I’m gonna lose it.”

Raphael’s tone became more stern when he instructed, “Then make the sacrifice useful. Guard your Mystra, or come for my Cyric.”

“We should really talk,” you murmured to Astarion, who cleared his throat and drew Raphael and Mol’s attention to you instead.

Mol’s face instantly lit up when she saw you. “Look who made it! For once I saved your butt out there with Jaheira, didn’t I?”

You returned her smile, stepping closer and pretending to punch her upper arm playfully. “You sure did. Can’t thank you enough for that, Mol.”

She gave you a smug sideways smirk. “We’re square now, chief.”

“I guess we are,” you laughed.

“Say,” she said, “do you play lanceboard by any chance? It’s my first time playing.”

Judging by the mischievous glint in her eye, you immediately clocked that she was lying to throw off Raphael.

“Oh, he’s laid a fine trap for you, Mol,” came Gale’s voice over your right shoulder.

“Where did you come from?” Astarion yelped and clutched his chest from his spot on your left.

Gale opted to ignore Astarion’s dramatic display and continued, “But it looks to me like his Cyric could be dethroned.”

You nodded, thinking back to several lanceboard games you’d played with Gale over the course of this journey. You lowered your voice and nodded at the pieces in front of Mol. “Gale’s right. Put pressure on him. Attack the pieces in front of his Cyric.”

Mol gave you and Gale an impish grin before following through with the move you both recommended. She looked immensely satisfied when she knocked the piece guarding Raphael’s God of Lies from the board.

Raphael raised his eyebrows, looking both proud and surprised. “My, the Theskan Double Counter-gambit. Vicious.” He chuckled darkly. “Exactly what I would have done.”

With another self satisfied smirk, Mol removed Raphael’s Cyric from the board completely. “How’s that for Calimshan rules?”

“Brava!” Raphael said, spreading his arms out wide. “Lovely work. I see I was right to make you the offer I did.”

Your stomach dropped. “Wait, what?”

Raphael didn’t take his eyes off Mol. “You will consider it, won’t you?”

Without another word, Mol got up and you watched as she returned to the other tiefling kids behind the bar.

“What a lovely specimen she is,” Raphael said as your eyes followed her.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as you turned to look back at him.

He was standing now. “A blushing apple, begging to be plucked.” He mimed the action of pulling an apple from its spot on a branch, his eyebrows furrowed to accompany his conniving smile.

You stepped to the side, attempting to block Mol from his view. “Leave her alone, Raphael.”

He ignored your warning and changed the subject. “The Theskan move suggestion was inspired. I had no idea you played.”

Gale chuckled. “I’ve been known to dabble.”

“He’s not talking to you, purple,” Astarion spat the last word as if it were an insult.

Gale stared at him for a moment before shrugging. “Purple has always suited me rather nicely, thank you.”

“Why are you here, Raphael?” you asked. “To play games?”

Raphael’s expression became almost unreadable. “To play the game. The vast lanceboard of souls.”

“Well that doesn’t sound legally sanctioned by the Lanceboard Committee of Baldur’s Gate,” Gale muttered.

Astarion rolled his eyes. “I wish you would explode.”

Raphael continued, this time his voice was overly saccharine. “Don’t you worry about Mol. It goes without saying she still has the unconditional freedom to choose the only option she has left.”

Gale leaned over to you and whispered, “Ominous, that.”

“Quiet,” Astarion hissed, causing Raphael’s attention to turn on him.

“Now,” Raphael said, placing a hand on his hip and pointing a lazy finger at Astarion, “let’s talk about you. I sense there’s something you want to ask me.”

“I do,” Astarion said, hunching forward as if to make himself smaller, “I have a… proposal… for you.” When you turned to glance at him with wide eyes, he corrected himself. “A proposition! A request. A… deal, I suppose, for lack of a better term.”

“A proposal,” Raphael’s eyes shifted between you two, probably knowing the exact tension that was occurring between the two of you right now.

It wouldn’t surprise you.

He chuckled, but didn’t press further. “If you’re hoping to taste my blood, little vampling, think again. It burns hotter than Wyvern Whiskey.”

“This is serious business,” Astarion tried to sound firm before adding, “devil.”

Raphael smirked at him, but inclined his head to encourage Astarion to continue.

“My old - well… A long time ago, someone carved infernal runes into my back,” Astarion explained. “They are a fragment of a contract. I’d like to know what the full contract says.”

“Hmmmmm…” Raphael dragged out the sound far longer than necessary.

Astarion straightened himself, attempting to look bravely back at the devil, but you saw the way he absently tapped his finger against his thigh. The way he blinked a little more frequently than normal.

You turned to Raphael, annoyed. “Don’t play games, Raphael. Help him out.”

“Oh, such impatience,” Raphael said sarcastically. When neither you nor Astarion took the bait to squabble with him, he continued. “It’s something very important to your master. But is it a love letter?” He looked pointedly at you and you did your best to keep your expression even. “A warning, perhaps? Or a deed of ownership? I could give you all the gory details.”

“So do it,” you growled, feeling extremely protective of the man to your left who’d just bared part of his soul to this devil. And Gale.

“Ah ah ah,” Raphael tsked. “You’ll have to do something for me first. Let me think about it and get back to you.”

Astarion stammered and held his arms out dramatically. “You’ll ‘get back’ to me? This is important, devil!” After a moment, he sighed. “When?”

“Don’t worry,” Raphael said, the cunning smile refusing to leave his face, “I’m motivated to help you. Scars often tell such wonderful stories - I think yours might be truly exquisite.”

Before you could interrogate him any further, Raphael vanished in a sour smelling puff of smoke.

“Good gracious, that’s foul,” Gale plugged his nose and waved his hand in front of his face.

You coughed repeatedly, shutting your eyes tight to make sure whatever residue Raphael left behind didn’t blur your vision. When you opened them again, you saw Astarion hightailing it out of the small room and across the taproom.

“Astarion!” you called. “Get back here, you heathen!”

As Astarion went to open one of the side doors of the inn to escape speaking with you, he slammed face first into Halsin’s chest.

“Oh!” Halsin exclaimed and peeled the vampire off of his tunic. “My apologies, Astarion, I was just coming inside to check on things with Moonrise Towers.”

Astarion held a hand to his forehead. “It’s like you’re made of cement.”

You caught up with him and witnessed him slump significantly.

“Oh, hello, darling.” His tone was jovial, but his expression was one of disappointment at having been caught so easily.

You placed your hands on your hips. “We need to talk.”

“News of Moonrise?” Halsin asked.

“No, the others are discussing that with Jaheira over there.” You pointed your thumb over your shoulder towards Jaheira’s desk, where your companions were still listening to her and hunching over a map. “No, I need to speak with Astarion in private-”

“Excellent reminder, darling,” Astarion said, straightening up and walking past you, over to Jaheira and the others. “We simply must plan out our next move!”

You turned to watch him go and stood next to Halsin, sighing heavily and pinching the bridge of your nose.

Halsin laid a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Everything alright? I hope nothing troubles the ever growing bond between you two?”

You began walking with him over to Jaheira’s desk. “He’s just being an idiot. He told me something very interesting and I want to talk to him about it more in depth.”

Halsin nodded. “You heard about the night he ran into me in bear form.”

“No, he-” You stopped short and looked at Halsin. “What?”

“There’s the fearless leader these cubs won’t stop talking about,” Jaheira said loudly, causing you to turn away from Halsin and finish taking the last few steps over to her desk.

You approached Astarion, who stared blankly ahead and made no attempt at hiding the large step he took away from you. You rolled your eyes and stepped forward to stand between Karlach and Shadowheart, observing the map in front of you.

“You all have been talking for quite a bit.” You noticed different markings on the map, suggesting different routes to take towards Moonrise. “Have you figured anything out?”

Wyll crossed his arms and blew out a breath. “Only that our opponent seems to be invincible, according to Jaheira.”

“So says she,” Lae’zel placed her hands on her hips and repositioned her feet to stand tall. “She has no idea how lethal we are.”

“Ketheric was a Sharran,” Shadowheart said quietly, lost in thought. “He was building an army of Dark Justiciars beneath this village.” She turned her head to look at you. “I knew my Lady Shar’s influence here was all consuming, but… Dark Justiciars?” Her voice took on a dreamlike quality, “Only the very finest proved themselves worthy of the title. They’ve been silent for years but… an entire army? That must have been a fearsome sight.”

“Yes…” Jaheira side-eyed Shadowheart skeptically. She looked at you and said, “To bring you up to speed, General Ketheric Thorm, the Absolutist leader at Moonrise is a formidable foe that myself, my Harpers, and local druids saw to depose - we witnessed him dead and buried. But he’s returned. Not only does he live again, it seems he is no longer mortal. He has become, as Wyll said, invincible.”

“Chk,” Lae’zel rolled her eyes.

“I don’t fancy his chances,” Gale joked as he integrated himself into the group, causing Astarion to jump again.

“So help me gods, you must stop doing that.”

“Supposedly, the Harpers met Ketheric on the road commanding an army of Absolutists, intent on destroying Baldur’s Gate.” Karlach half smiled, proud to be relaying a new Jaheira tale to you. “Jaheira here saw to putting a fucking arrow through his fucking eye, only to watch the bastard pluck it out.”

“‘Like a splinter,’ in her words,” Wyll added helpfully.

Halsin whistled lowly. “Sounds like quite the nasty rival.”

Jaheira nodded. “He healed right in front of me, and chased us into the shadows. Things looked hopeless, but experience has taught me that no matter how bleak things look, there’s always hope.”

“Damn right,” Karlach grinned.

Jaheira smiled at the tiefling, then looked around at your entire party. “You are that hope.”

Astarion gagged and rolled his eyes, earning an elbow in the side from Karlach.

“We’ll try our best,” you said.

“I was telling your companions here that while protected by your artifact,” Jaheira went on, “you can infiltrate his forces at Moonrise Towers, posing as True Souls.”

“A risky, but clever move,” Lae’zel smirked. “I like it.”

“If we can find out what makes him invincible,” Wyll said, “perhaps we can strip him of his advantage.”

Jaheira nodded. “Together, we assault his tower and put a final end to this blight.”

Astarion sniffed pompously. “You want to make use of our infection.” He placed a hand on his hip and gestured around with his free hand, “Some of us, not necessarily me, of course, I’m rather enjoying the sun when it’s not currently being banished by the Mistress of the Night-”

“Watch it,” Shadowheart warned through gritted teeth.

“Some of us,” Astarion continued, “want to be cured of it.”

Jaheira watched him carefully. “Any cure starts with understanding the disease. Whatever magic Ketheric’s using to control these tadpoles, it must be at Moonrise.”

“Well,” Gale clapped his hands together, “sounds like we should get a move on if we plan on finding that cure any time soon.”

Jaheira looked to you. “I’ve already shared what I believe to be the best route to the Towers with your friends here.” She nodded her head towards Wyll, Shadowheart, Karlach, and Lae’zel.

“Thank you,” you said. “Ketheric’s days are numbered - I’ll make sure of it.”

The Harper met you with a sad smile. “Without a cure for your infection, your days are numbered, yet you selflessly offer to spend them fighting alongside us. I like you.”

“Isn’t she the best?” Karlach clapped you on the shoulder, grinning, before clearing her throat. “I- I mean after you, of course.” She smiled awkwardly at Jaheira.

Jaheira laughed, then addressed all of you: “I promise I will do everything I can to make sure you survive this.”

Your companions offered their thanks, accompanied by a dramatic eye roll from Astarion.

“Before you go,” Jaheira said, “there’s someone else you should meet.”

“Gods,” Astarion muttered, “we’re going to be stuck here forever if we keep yammering instead of doing.”

“I’m sorry,” Jaheira raised an eyebrow, “do you wish to be consumed by shadow?”

“If we have a choice,” Wyll said, “I’d prefer not to.”

“Good man,” she smiled at the warlock before looking around at everyone again. “You’re not our only secret weapon.” She rolled up the map laid before you all and handed it off to Wyll. “Isobel - a faithful cleric of Selûne, and a light in the darkness.”

“Selûne?” Shadowheart wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Why would a servant to the Moonmaiden be all the way out here?”

“You’re lucky she is,” Jaheira gave Shadowheart a look, as if daring her to make another comment on the matter. “She cast the moon shield around the inn. It’s the only reason we’re still alive.” She moved to her right to point at a set of stairs in the small room off the taproom where you’d been speaking to Raphael. “She’s upstairs in her chambers. Tell her I sent you and she’ll see you through the shadows safely.”

“We already have a lantern that protects us.” Shadowheart crossed her arms.

“And I’m sure it’s very fine,” Jaheira said. “But lanterns have a tricky habit of going out when you need them.” When Shadowheart didn’t respond, Jaheira added, “Let’s not spurn what few gifts the gods choose to give us, hm?”

You had a feeling the “gods” she was referring to wasn’t the one Shadowheart had pledged her life to.

“Well I, for one, can’t wait to see what this Isobel has to show us!” Astarion said, suddenly cheerful, and booking it up the stairs.

Your party watched him go.

“What’s with him?” Karlach asked.

“Very hot and cold, no?” Gale agreed. “I mean, more so than usual.”

“He’s being an idiot about something he said,” you sighed. “And it didn’t have anything to do with bears,” you pointed at Halsin before he could say anything.

He simply smiled and shrugged, and followed everyone up the stairs.

“Sounds about right,” Shadowheart said.

Lae’zel narrowed her eyes. “When has Astarion ever spoken about bears?”

“He got drunk on one once,” you laughed. “But it wasn’t about that.”

“What was it about, then?” Wyll asked. “We’ve all said silly things we regret.”

“This wasn’t some silly thing, though” you clarified. “It was kind of important.”

Astarion ran out of a room beyond the balcony looking down into the taproom. “Would you all hurry up? I think I found her.”

You approached him as quickly as you could, trying to catch him off guard and reaching for his hand, but he dodged you and slipped back into the room.

“Astarion!” you called and sped up even more to follow after him.

You and the rest of the party entered into a large room - sectioned off to your right was a wall with two large doorways that lead into what appeared to be a study, complete with looming bookcases, a desk, and a fireplace. The rest of the room appeared to be a bedroom, based on the large bed with its headboard resting against the back wall, and a number of wardrobes. A large door that you assumed led outside stood next to the bed.

“Fancy digs,” Karlach murmured.

You paused when Astarion thrust open the balcony door and revealed a woman with short white hair muttering incantations under her breath, surrounded by candles and white light.

“Now there’s a cleric of Selûne if I’ve ever seen one,” Gale said.

“And just how many of those have you come across?” Shadowheart sniffed.

“Quite a lot in my studies, actually. I’ve read about this one cleric of Selûne who-”

“Stop speaking,” Lae’zel hissed as you and your party made their way onto the balcony with Isobel.

An orb of light appeared in Isobel’s hand and she spun her hands around it, making it grow bigger and brighter with moon magic. High above your heads, a full moon somehow shown down on you, despite Shar’s curse. The eight of you remained silent as she thrust the orb upwards where it met the barrier of the moonshield and reinforced the entire thing with a burst of light.

Isobel looked up to admire her work before coughing weakly and turning around to face you all. “I didn’t realize I had an audience.”

“Really?” Astarion crossed his arms. “I mean, with me, I can understand, but they sound like a stampede of wild gnolls.” He gestured to the rest of you.

Isobel gave him an amused half smile. “Please,” she extended a hand back into her room, “join me inside.”

You purposely let the others go ahead of you and grabbed Astarion’s wrist before he could slip past you again. “I have things I need to say to you,” you said quietly.

“Perhaps later,” he responded, pulling his arm from your grasp and nearly tripping back into Isobel’s chambers.

You rolled your eyes and followed him in, only to be addressed directly by Isobel herself.

“The True Soul who’s come to save us all.” She looked you up and down and smiled. “I’m Isobel. Pleased to meet you.” She finished with a small bow.

“And you,” you returned her bow and saw Karlach mimic it out of the corner of your eye. “We’ve been told you’re the protector of this inn - the banisher of shadows.” You wiggled your fingers as if telling small children about the boogeyman.

Isobel laughed lightly. “Myself and Our Lady are doing what we can to hold the line. I hear you and your tadpole will be our offense.”

“Show us what to slay and it shall be done,” Lae’zel offered matter-of-factly.

Isobel scanned your group thoughtfully, the black paint around her eyes making her irises look piercingly blue. “All of you… free from the Absolute’s influence, yet able to walk among cultists. It’s almost too good to be true.”

“Uh, that it is,” Halsin said. “I, myself, remain tadpole free. Though I seek to help rid this land of the shadows that dwell here.”

“Then Our Lady thanks you most graciously,” Isobel nodded towards Halsin and he looked pleased by her approval. She turned back to you. “I’d be a poor cleric indeed not to avail of a blessing when I see one.”

“Hear that?” Karlach nudged Wyll. “We’re a blessing.”

“We’ll certainly try to earn the praise,” Wyll chuckled.

“Let me guess,” Isobel raised her eyebrows, assessing your group again, “Jaheira sent you all to beg a protection spell off her favorite cleric.”

“You got it,” Gale confirmed.

“If you wouldn’t mind,” Karlach added.

“With pleasure,” Isobel laughed.

She closed her eyes as a golden column of light overtook her entire being. Lifting an arm above her head, her entire body turned gold until the light concentrated into only the hand she had raised in the air. She brought it down and held it in front of you, palm facing outwards.

Suddenly, you were all surrounded by the same column of golden light that enveloped Isobel, and a warm calmness overtook your senses.

Suddenly you knew that the shadows would subside and that you all would be bathed in the peaceful light of the moon once again.

Suddenly, it felt like everything was going to be okay.

“Tingly,” you remarked.

“Perfect,” Isobel smiled. “That spell will make you immune to the lesser effects of the shadow curse, which will get you closer to the towers.”

“Thank you,” you said, observing your limbs and noticing how they now vaguely glowed with moon magic. Your companions seemed to be doing the same.

“But,” Isobel continued, “there are places it won’t help - places where the curse is darker. Stronger.”

“And we will destroy these stronger shadows,” Lae’zel lifted her head confidently.

Isobel exhaled slowly. “The cultists are able to traverse even the deepest shadows, though. I don’t know how - the Harpers are trying to figure it out.”

Shadowheart, who seemed to be more interested in the glowing of her limbs than the rest of you, looked up at Isobel with a scowl. “Selûnite magic. Dark Lady forgive me.”

“Good nose,” Isobel said sarcastically. “Like a nasty little terrier.”

Lae’zel snorted. “She already proclaimed herself to be a follower of Selûne. Were you not listening?”

Shadowheart shot her a glare.

“Well, this has been lovely,” Astarion said, making his way to the door leading back into the inn proper. “Anything else we should know before we head off to save the day?” He was already halfway out the door, not bothering to wait for an answer, clearly trying to make a stealthy exit.

You eyed Halsin, who nodded and retrieved the rogue by his arm before he could leave, closing the door behind both of them for good measure.

“Let me go, you humongous imbecile!” Astarion pounded his free arm against Halsin’s chest before Halsin released him and refused to let him move a muscle towards the door. Astarion huffed and crossed his arms, turning his nose up at the rest of you.

“Is he okay?” Isobel asked.

“This is relatively normal behavior from him, actually,” Karlach said.

“But please,” you waved a hand in front of yourself, “is there anything else we should know?”

Isobel thought for a moment. “Ketheric is a frightening man. But you have something he doesn’t: allies worth having.”

You felt a wave of pride wash over you and your companions.

“Daw,” Karlach kicked at the floorboard under her feet. “That’s very sweet.”

Isobel gave her a small smile. “While you’re all busy at the towers, I’ll be sure to-”

She froze.

“Wait. Do you hear that?”

The eight of you strained to hear what she could be referring to.

Astarion clicked his tongue loudly. “I don’t hear-”

Isobel interrupted him. “Something’s wrong.”

That’s when you finally heard it: The beating of wings followed by a man landing hard on Isobel’s balcony. He wore the uniform of a Flaming Fist, and the way his wings moved seemed new and unnatural. He stood and retracted the black, feathery abominations, before exhaling and walking into the room.

“Hello, Isobel.”

“Marcus,” Isobel breathed, “is that you? What’s happened to you?”

Halsin leaned forward. “I take it, you know this man?”

“I’ve been blessed,” Marcus said before Isobel could answer. “You can be, too. Come with me and you can hear all about it from Ketheric himself.”

“Isobel,” you said, not taking your eyes off Marcus, “who is this man?”

“He’s a Flaming Fist!” she exclaimed. “Or was. He came with the others when we created this haven.”

“There are more Fists here?” Wyll muttered.

Marcus addressed Isobel, “And I thank you for your hospitality.” Then he turned towards you.

You felt the familiar squirm of your tadpole being probed. Much to your dismay, Marcus’s voice rang out inside your head.

“True Soul, my instructions are clear: take the girl to Ketheric.”

You wrinkled your nose, hating the sensation of his unwanted presence in your brain. In an act of defiance, you needled further into his own mind.

A haunting face swam into your mind’s eye, its instructions vivid: “nothing is more important than bringing the girl - alive.”

Isobel must have seen the sour expression on your face because she turned towards Marcus aggressively. “What’s going on? If you have something to say, say it.”

“Marcus is trying to kidnap you, Isobel” you narrowed your eyes at the Fist. You looked back at your party, all of whom were already getting into battle positions. You turned to Marcus and took one step forward, bending your knees and dropping into a fighting stance. “Looks like we’re going to have to fight our way out of this one.”

Isobel’s eyes went wide.

“Pathetic,” Marcus spat. “The Absolute sees all - your treachery will be punished!”

“The Absolute,” Isobel repeated before scowling. “Of course.” She gave Marcus a pleading look when she said, “You can’t believe them, Marcus. Ketheric will never give you whatever it is you’ve been promised.”

Marcus chuckled darkly and spread his hideous wings. “He already has.” He looked at her dead in the eyes. “Time to go, Isobel.”

With that, he reared backwards and roared loudly, far louder than any human of his size should be able to manage. You all stood in horror as you heard screeches and roars from Winged Horrors that flew abruptly into the inn and Isobel’s room. Already, you could hear shouting and screams from down below.

Isobel lifted a hand into the air. “Moonmaiden, guide my hand!”

Before she could cast anything, Marcus let out another piercing roar, knocking you all off guard.

Gale, who’d been standing out of his range, ran forward, a spell already prepped in his hand. When his touch connected with Isobel, she vanished; invisible.

“Good thinking, Gale!” you shouted, pulling your lute off your back and strumming some inspiration in his direction.

Karlach and Lazel were already knocking back the Winged Horrors with their weapons, while Wyll thrust his rapier towards Marcus. Halsin shifted into bear form and growled at the Fist before taking a slash at him. Shadowheart summoned a circle of Spirit Guardians and rushed into the fray.

“We need to check on the others!” you shouted above the din of the battle. “I think they’ve got it covered in here!”

Astarion twirled a dagger in his hand. “Excellent idea, my darling,” he smirked before thrusting open the doors out into the inn.

To your shock and horror, you both found Raphael standing there, nonchalantly checking his nails.

“Ah!” he said with fake surprise when he finally acknowledged you both standing there. “Just the lovebirds I was looking for. Remember that favor I mentioned earlier?”

“Right now?!” you cried in disbelief, gesturing to the chaos around you. You witnessed Jaheira shift into a jaguar and swat a Winged Horror out of the air.

Raphael chuckled. “Oh, I think right now is the perfect time.” He raised his hand.

You and Astarion exchanged frantic glances.

“Wait!” Astarion shouted.

Raphael snapped his fingers.

And everything went black.

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kathlare · 14 days ago

Text

glimpse through the veil

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Amelie has an unexpected, emotionally charged encounter with Lando when she overhears him during a Facetime call with Max.

Wordcount: 1.0 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

October 9th, 2022 - Chicago, IL

Amelie sat cross-legged on her bed, the soft glow of her laptop illuminating her face as she prepared for the Facetime call. It had been a few weeks since she last caught up with Max, and with everything happening in her life, she hadn’t had the chance to watch the Suzuka race until now. But the results were clear—Max Verstappen had just claimed his second World Championship. She couldn’t help but feel proud of her friend, who had turned the world of F1 upside down yet again.

The call went through, and Max’s face appeared on the screen, his familiar smile stretching across his face. He looked exhausted but incredibly satisfied, and Amelie could tell he was riding high from the victory.

—Max! Congrats on the win!— she grinned, leaning closer to the screen. —Second World Championship, you legend!—

Max laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. —Thanks, Amelie. It feels good, you know? I still can't believe it’s all coming together like this.—

—Well, you’re a beast,— she teased. —But you’ve got to take a moment and celebrate this one properly. I’m sure everyone’s going to be partying with you tonight.—

Max nodded, his eyes twinkling. —You’re right. It’s been a long season, and I deserve to have some fun.—

Before Amelie could respond, there was a knock at the door. Max’s eyes flicked toward the sound, and he let out a sigh. —Hang on, let me get that,— he said, putting his phone down on a nearby table, leaving Amelie’s face on the screen.

Amelie watched as the phone remained on the table, her face filling the screen in the empty space, waiting for Max to return. She fiddled with her fingers, her thoughts drifting back to the race, to the moments they’d shared in the past, and the funny little bond they’d built over the years.

Max’s room was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of fabric and footsteps as he moved to answer the door. She heard a few muffled voices—then the door creaked open. Amelie tilted her head, trying to make out the conversation. But it wasn’t long before a familiar voice made her heart stop for a second.

—Mate, we’re going out tonight,— Lando’s voice came through clearly, his tone loud and carefree. —We’ve gotta celebrate, yeah? You’re a fucking legend now, two World Championships. Let’s go find some trouble.—

Amelie froze.

Her breath hitched as she recognized Lando's voice from across the room, as clear as day. What the hell?

She could hear Max’s muffled reply, but she couldn’t make out the words. But she didn’t need to. The dread washed over her, her body tensing in an instant. The phone was still on the table, her face staring back at her, but Max wasn’t there. He was dealing with whatever it was Lando wanted.

And then, Lando’s voice became clearer as he stepped closer to the door.

—Come on, mate, you’ve earned it. Let’s grab a few drinks, maybe pick up some girls, yeah? What do you say?—

The casualness of Lando’s tone hit Amelie like a slap to the face. She had no idea why it bothered her so much. She shouldn’t have cared. They weren’t even friends anymore. They hadn’t been in a long time. But there was something about hearing him so... carelessly enthusiastic, the words, the suggestion, as if their past didn’t matter.

Her mind raced as she sat there, her heart pounding in her chest. Is this what he does now? Is this how he handles everything?

She wanted to turn off the phone, to end the call right then and there, but she couldn’t. For some strange reason, she couldn’t. She just sat, listening to the conversation unfold.

Max's voice came back, more urgent now, but there was something in his tone that Amelie didn’t quite like.

—Lando, hold on a sec. Just...—

—What?— Lando’s voice interrupted, a touch of impatience creeping in. —Come on, mate, you deserve it. It’s not like you can just sit around and wait for the next race. Let’s celebrate, go wild, yeah?—

Amelie shifted uncomfortably on her bed, her fingers gripping the phone tighter. She could hear Max trying to hurry the conversation along, his tone more strained now.

—Lando, listen... Just wait a minute.— Max was clearly trying to keep the situation under control, but Amelie could tell by the tone that he wasn’t sure how to deal with it.

She felt the familiar, biting sensation in her chest, as if the years of unresolved tension with Lando were pulling at her from within. Hearing his voice again, after so long—especially so casually talking about picking up some girls—it hit her in a way she hadn’t expected. She wasn’t sure if it was the idea of his cavalier attitude toward their past or just the fact that he still had the ability to make her feel so... vulnerable.

Lando’s voice came back, louder now as he grew frustrated with Max’s reluctance. —I’m telling you, we’re going out tonight. You’re not going to want to miss this, I swear. Just let me in, yeah?—

Amelie’s stomach twisted. She hated this. She hated hearing him like this, as if it didn’t matter to him. As if she didn’t matter.

Max hesitated for a second too long, and that was all it took for Lando to push past him into the hotel room.

—Mate, I swear, this is going to be the best fucking night. You can’t just sit here and—

Lando’s voice faltered mid-sentence as his eyes landed on Max’s phone screen.

And then, silence.

Amelie felt her entire body stiffen as she locked eyes with him through the screen. Lando’s expression shifted from casual excitement to absolute stillness, his mouth parting slightly as if he had forgotten how to speak.

—Amelie—

Her name barely left his lips, like he wasn’t sure if he should even be saying it. Like he had just seen a ghost.

And maybe, in a way, he had.

Amelie swallowed, her pulse hammering in her ears. Her chest felt too tight, like she couldn’t breathe properly, but she forced herself to keep her expression unreadable. She refused to let him see her flinch, refused to let the past drag her under.

So instead, she turned her attention back to Max, her voice sharp and detached.

—Max, I’ll call you later.—

Max's eyes widened slightly, and he opened his mouth, about to say something—maybe to stop her, to smooth over the mess he could feel unraveling in real time. But before he could even get the words out, Amelie had already ended the call.

The screen went black.

And Lando was left staring at the empty space where she had just been.

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vanniliver · 3 months ago

Text

CHALLENGERS

SatoSugu x GenderNeutral Reader // NSFW kinda..?

Suguru and Satoru stared at the ceiling with boredom, bodies slick with a subtle sheen of sweat. The temperature had been rising at night, and the summer humidity was nigh - but it wasn’t only that. They had been through an undoubtedly stressful day, playing, winning, and experiencing an attraction so overwhelming, that they’d not stopped thinking about it all day.

There was no doubt in how close the duo were, they had lived in close quarters since they joined boarding school - even now, their dirty clothes were splayed lazily across the ground, the lines of ownership blurred as they lived within each other's belongings. Their single beds pushed together to make a double as they slept, just hoping the gap wouldn’t split with any weight upon it, legs intertwined with the covers discarded upon the ground.

Satoru was splayed out on the hotel bed, mattress thick and stiff against his back - his muscles tensing against the lack of melt the bed held - but it didn’t stop him from lounging on the dingy sheets, head hanging off the edge of the bed as his beady eyes gazed at Suguru. Who was in a similar state of anticipation, sat on the floor with a cigarette hanging between his lips, flipping through the tennis magazine you happened to be featured in, sporting the new athletic clothing sponsorship you’d landed - posing as if it were as natural to you as you’d trained tennis to be. But just cuz’ it was already in the room, he hadn’t gone out of his way to buy it, that would be weird.

Satoru noticed Suguru’s soft curiosity toward you, in fact - he shared the exact feeling, watching Suguru’s hands slowly curling the pages over and over to look at you, a twinkle in his dark and tired eyes - and a tingle in the south of his body. “Do you think they’re going to come?” Satoru piped up, head still upside down as he felt denial swallowing his body, blinking his large eyes at his darker counterpart.

“Maybe.” Suguru mumbled, eyebrows knitted into a frown as he plucked the cigarette from his lips, exhaling the smoke and flicking the bud of the stick, watching the burnt remainder fall into the complimentary ashtray, that should be outside - in the balcony, but Suguru wasn’t the one to care about consequences, that’s why he’d asked you to come.

It was a celebration of your win, that big one that won the tournament? Of course, you wouldn’t remember so quickly, You outrank the two of them combined - and there they were, thinking they even remotely came close to your talent.

It was amusing, really. Calling you over as you planned to retire from the party, but oh - It was just getting started, right? You’d heard whispers about Satoru and Suguru, winning the duo tournament with a public display of true affection at the end, nobody blamed you when you thought they were together, not even the said boys. After a small, meaningless conversation - they two decided to invite you to their hotel room, and you humored the chance.

But there you were, trotting down the hallway in the least impressive outfit you’d packed in your suitcase, they didn’t deserve to think you fussed over what they thought of you - the two had already voiced inspiration and respect for your skill, they’d be crazy not to notice, but half of you felt the same about them.

Suguru had this edge to him, this commitment to his stick. Hair tied into a precise bun, occasionally paired with a headband, for the hairs that weren’t long enough to be tied. Not only this, but he had piercings that you were intrigued to get a closer look at, and the rumors were that he had a tattoo that you couldn’t see so easily - wishing whispers from lasses who watched the two boys play with their legs squeezed tight, you didn’t compare yourself to someone so easily impressed.

Satoru had this childish charm, uncaring and balanced out by his counterpart. His tennis skills were fine, too. Hair wispy and white, and a pale complexion not even the sun could affect, and he always managed to wear cool clothes - short shorts that showed his taped knees, and socks you could only dream of buying with your allowance, simple things that made him shine in your eye. He had a flirty way of talking, too. Tones and hums that you’d remember for a long time, if you ever had the chance to even speak to him, but you did. Oh, you most definitely did.

Soon enough, after gathering yourself and your facade outside of their dingy room, your knuckles raised against the door, placing three short knocks against the wood. Suddenly, the movement was clear inside the space, a small vibration against your feet as you furrowed your eyebrows, you’d had these two waiting and worked up before you’d even gotten to the room, snickering to yourself as you shoved your hands in your pockets, waiting for them to answer, with a nonchalant wave of character washing over you, you aren’t that excited.

As expected, the door swings open! Satoru is the culprit of the harsh tug against the wood of the frame, doorknob between his hands as his chest rose and fell, pulling his t-shirt over his pale body, letting it fall to it’s proper place as he gazed at you - gulping softly. Satoru was no different, in eyesight of the doorframe, only moments after Satoru had nearly pulled it off its hinges. Unlike Satoru, the dark-haired boy only had a striped shirt pulled over his shoulders, only just putting his arms through the fabric, letting the unbuttoned piece open at his chest.

“Hey.” You spoke with confidence, standing tall in front of the sight of the two - clearly not as nervous as they were, although there was a soft tingle in the palette of your mouth, as if you were anticipating something nervy - either way, you gained comfort in the sight of the two acting so unfamiliar, smaller than they physically were.

“Hey.” They replied, spoken in jinx with each other - a small look shared between the two as they stand without a thought behind their eyes, watching you closely - an unfathomable excitement that even you couldn’t sense the deepness of. Although it was endearing, their eyes soon became boring.

Stance becoming comfortable, you piped up; “So? Can I come in or..?” Like chess pieces, they move out of the way of the hallway, mumbling repeated agreements as you finally emerge from the hall, staring into their room with the immediate step inside, oh.

Surguru was trying to pick up discarded clothes and throw them into the bathroom wasn’t something you expected, eyes glued on the built man as you stepped into the bedroom, feeling Satoru’s eyes linger on you as he closed the door behind you, waiting for anything to happen.

It was clear that these two had no sense of authority, basically quivering in questioning every time you looked at them, in their eyes you were humoring two losers who couldn’t even play right without each other, in which you most definitely were - there was nothing about this that had any positive effect for your career, but It was a good time - good fun was coming.

Satoru had pulled out beers from the minifridge near the door, pressing a cold one against the palm of your hand, watching you have an internal debate on where you should be standing, but the two were clearly in their own comfort, as Suguru had already sat down, thanking Satoru for the beer as the pale boy soon followed, their beady eyes waiting to look at you as you simply sat where you were stood, in front of the two.

Tennis, tennis, tennis! God, you just wanted to fuck - didn’t they? Your responses soon leaving eagerness to dryness as you sipped your third can of beer, feeling the remaining liquid within the can, watching the two talk about their own dumb stories over tennis, but you were so bored - something better needed to be spoken about, and with the way they laughed with eachother, you knew exactly what to bring up.

“So what about you two, hm?” You interrupt their giggles, eyebrows raised as you bite the rim of the can, mouth bored and waiting. With your legs crossed, you stare them down half-lidded, tongue pressed against your cheek as you watch them fumble over their thoughts.

“Us? What, like?” Satoru questions, looking at Satoru - before getting the bigger picture of the question, bursting into laughter - “No, no no. we’re not.” his giggles die down swiftly as he looks at the quiet Suguru, clearly there was something he wanted to talk about.

“No.” The bright-haired man jumps the gun, looking at Suguru then at you - as if to tell you not to believe him - waving his large hands, the beer sloshing in its can. “Well.” Suguru rolls his tongue, leaning back into the wall, his legs crossed as similar to yours.

“What?” your impatience is masked by curiosity, teeth still pressing dents into the rim of the can - you didn’t care about their shame, there was no point hiding it, anyway - you knew, everyone knew.

“We’ve… done stuff, before.” Suguru confesses with the rushed tone a nun would have to a priest, a nervous smile on his face as Satoru mirrors his expression, hands running through his hair. Safe to say you’re a little endeared by this, what have they done?

“Like what?” You egg them on, there were no secrets, especially if they were planning on fucking you that night, hah. As if you’d ever let yourself be bed so easily, rolling your eyes at the thought, quickly brought back to reality with Suguru’s speech. “It’s easy to get pent up when you’re with eachother all the time.” Suguru speaks with a lull against his tongue, enjoying Satoru’s shame, exactly the way you were.

“So this is like, ongoing?” You raise your eyebrow, you really weren’t a homewrecker - something you’d uttered to them before, suddenly the gulp of the beer was to cut the tension in the room, christ. “No, no!” they both defended equally, “Months ago.” Satoru admitted, months ago? The least that could be is three months ago, and you can speak from experience when three months ago isn’t long enough to get over something like that, but the two seemed eager to know you, as you were them.

The beer had run out, and so did the meaningless talking and conversations that weren’t fun without the bitter liquid running down your throat, you were hardly tipsy, and three cans down really wasn’t much of a thrill. “Beer’s out.” You respond to the eager silence the three of you shared, Satoru and Suguru’s wide eyes catching a glimpse of the others, what could they possibly do now? They were both undoubtedly broke, with no spare dollars for a beer to treat the near-celebrity in their room. Yikes. “Oh.” They both mumble, looking away from you - guilt in their eyes as they try and find conversation, but they are drawing blanks.

Never mind, you had a solution that they’d been waiting for. Raising with a soft grunt, your body towered over them, watching their eyes linger on parts of you they definitely shouldn’t, but the consequence of being caught didn’t stop them, Satoru’s mouth slightly ajar as you shadowed over him, Suguru’s eyes glimmering, a soft gulp as his mouth went dry.

As planned in your noggin, you find yourself sauntering over to the bed - holding eye contact with the two, your pupils switching between their own, you were glad they came as a duo, double the fun. And after their confession? Well, you were enthusiastic - to say the least. Teasingly, you lower your body upon the stiff mattress of the bed, letting out a huff - how did they sleep? Looking around as you take notice of the double bed, yeah - rumours had to be true.

“C’mere.” You order, tapping the duvet next to you - the thick feeling of the covers bouncing against your palm, before turning to the contrasting duo - head tilting as you wait. They were confused, this whole time they’d been betting on a winner - and now was your time to choose, were they supposed to know who you wanted? It hadn’t been very clear, you didn’t talk about how you felt this whole time, and they’d been dumb enough to not ask you any questions, not like they needed to - they’d made it their mission to find all of your magazines, but that was a secret - one under the bed.

“Which one of-” Satoru was mistaken by his denial, quickly surprised by the sight of Suguru rushing to get to the bed, jumping up as soon as the pale boy had opened his mouth, oh! Now, it was a competition. With Suguru gazing at you from your right side, Satoru was stuck to stumble to your left, gulping softly - the way he had been all night.

There was a fleeting moment in which the two had time to look at each other, really? Fighting over the same person? All the work had gotten them pent up to that point, It wouldn’t spiral into something large - would it? This could be a story they share with their jealous spouses when their older, like; “We spent the night with the famous Y/N!” which people wouldn’t believe, and they’d have no way to prove it, but deep down they both knew the truth. It was like their thoughts were as similar as their shared speech, a small nervous giggle leaving the both of them as they waited patiently, you knew how to keep them on their toes.

Your eyes lay on Suguru’s lips, ignoring the beckoning satoru that stared at you from your side, hoping to be the first choice of your mind, you’d been teasing them all night - but he deserved it, he really did! Suguru almost chuckled in victory, his eyes low as he watched you edge forward just slightly, his body following your direction with an eager you’d only see in a horny man.

Yet, moments before his lips crashed against yours - you stopped moving his way, your head turning slightly as a scoff emitted from you, as if to tell him he’d never be chosen first - going out of your way to tease suguru, who was more confident in his sexuality than Satoru had been all night, the poor boy nervous to even hold eye contact.

You turned to the previous beckoning Satoru, eyes glued to his - he couldn’t decide whether to look you in the eye or stare at your lips, hands gripping the bed as he questioned his next actions - did you want him to do something specific.. Or did you want to lead?

His question would quickly be answered as you finally brought your lips to press against his, soft pecks quickly becoming open-mouth snogs - your tongue dancing against his lips as your hand held his thigh, swimming in the soft grunts and hum’s that sounded from his throat, the tennis girls would be jealous - you almost laughed in victory as your mouths danced in lust, your fingertips gripping his skin - your touch soon comforting to hungry, you were so hungry - but you couldn’t be too obvious, pulling away as he stayed close - almost whining with the loss you’d shown him.

Suguru had been squirming behind you the whole time, without an ounce of rushing - but he seemed to be the most impatient out of the two, not even giving you a moment to turn back around before he grasped your face - his lips moving hungrily against your own, a soft hum of shock coming from you as you reciprocated the touch, hand around his back as you pushed yourself closer to his hungry kisses.

Although Suguru was the impatient one, Satoru was the desperate one, his lips finding their way to your neck, pecking and sucking your skin as his hand was placed against your thigh, a hunger that not even you had possessed with him, pent up was the least of their worries - they were just plain touch starved.

Perhaps Suguru felt as if he were missing out, soon enough his actions were mirroring Satoru’s - hand gripping your body as he’d groan and suckle against your jaw - neck, collarbone! The two overwhelm you with the feeling, almost eating you alive! Your skin burns under the soft touches of their saliva connecting you with their mouths, soft grunts emitting from the both of them as your head tilts backward, eyelids fluttering shut as they peck your ears. Suguru emits a soft sigh into your ear as Satoru gasps with every touch you place against his body, spine arching as your palm is placed against his back.

They have the same, greedy idea - they want to be the one hogging your lips - Suguru growing impatient by every moment passing, and Satoru eager to earn countless more reactions from your body - and in sync, as they had been all night - sentences, habits, and now a movement. Their lips rush agonizingly across your face as they’re immediately met with the touch of not only your lips but the others.

There’s a fleeting moment where they don’t stop, where they’re fine with the idea of the three-way kiss between them, swapping saliva and adoration that had most definitely already been exchanged between the two, and you definitely liked it! Your hands pressed against their backs as you almost ushered them ahead with it, mouth moving against theirs like a song, reveling in the grunts and chirps from them.

Maybe it was the denial of the other being into it, but after a moment, they pulled away - staring deeply at each other before laughs escaped their lips, this was weird. You were shocked, the sparks that flew in that kiss were more interesting than you’d ever experienced with other people, it was annoying! Whatever it was between you three, you wanted it - and you wanted it now!

Alas, they were just nervous, Suguru messing with his hair, running it through his fingers as he avoided eye contact with Satoru, his voice becoming a faded mumble as he carried out his laughter for a second too long. Satoru was similarly as nervous, hands between his legs as he looked down, rubbing his lip with the back of his hand - avoiding eye contact with you the way Satoru was - did they think you didn’t like it? Rolling your eyes with a small fake chuckle, your fingertips tracing circles on both of their backs, pushing them just slightly toward each other.

Their heads lift with surprise, looking at you before their counterpart, eyes agape - then you again. Okay, Okay! Almost with the hunger they’d had only moments before, tongues wandering against yours… and the other. You noticed their touch against each other - the way Satoru’s hand raised to caress Suguru’s face, the way Suguru reciprocated this touch - his hand close to yours at Satoru’s back.

The music blasted through the room, radio booming through your ears as you took your own initiative - leaning back from the sloppy kisses and falling back onto your elbows to the stiff bounce of the bed, but that didn’t matter - oh, it didn’t matter.

Satoru and Suguru resumed their makeout - whether you were there or not, tongues dragging against their equally wet lips, body arching into and over the others - there was a chaoticness between their affections to each other, physically. At one point it seemed as if you were a fly on the wall, watching two lovers come of age - suddenly this wasn’t about you, but their attraction to each other - It was hot. Biting your lip, you couldn’t help but keep watching.

Eventually, It would stop. “Right.” you mumble, clapping your hands together - they pull away, looking at you with love-drunk - a clueless look that almost allowed you to let them carry on, but that would be boring - surely? Either way, you didn’t want to risk finding out the negatives - pushing between them as you finally cracked up from the bed - turning around for a soft moment to talk. “I’ll give my number to whoever wins tomorrow.” you wink, shoving your hands in your shallow pockets, ignoring the tingle through your body.

The two sat, pitching their own problems as they stared up at you with a frown, as if you being there was the only thing letting them cut the severe tension between them. Satoru had a clear grip on the sheets, his sunglasses almost falling from his head. Suguru was equally as disorientated, hair disheveled due to Satoru’s harsh grip through it not too long ago. It was cute, they were cute.

Yeah, you definitely weren’t a homewrecker.

(requests in asks! open!)

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princesskenny1998 · 4 months ago

Text

South Park | Stan Marsh x afab!pregnant!reader ~ Unexpected

The cold autumn air clung to your skin as you sat on the edge of your bed, the small, plastic object resting in your trembling hand. Your eyes were locked on it, unblinking, as if willing it to change, to shift, to somehow make everything okay. But no matter how long you stared, the two pink lines remained. Clear as day. Clear as the reality you were desperately trying to deny.

Pregnant.

You had thought about this scenario before, in the abstract, the way everyone does when they start a relationship. You’d even talked about it with Stan, in a joking, lighthearted way, never really considering that it could happen — not now, not while you were still in high school, not while you were still figuring out who you were.

And now here you were, staring at the undeniable proof in your hand, feeling your heart race, your stomach twist in knots, your mind race with a thousand thoughts.

What were you going to do?

How were you going to tell Stan?

Stan. His name echoed in your mind, and suddenly the panic surged even higher. How was he going to react? He was your boyfriend, yes, but you were both so young, so unprepared for something like this. The thought of telling him made your chest tighten with fear.

You closed your eyes, trying to calm the rising storm of anxiety that threatened to overwhelm you. But it was no use. The panic was too real, too close. You could practically feel it pressing down on your chest, making it hard to breathe.

How could this have happened? you asked yourself for what felt like the hundredth time, though you knew the answer. You and Stan had been careful, or at least you thought you had been. But accidents happen. You had always known that, even if you hadn’t really believed it would happen to you.

The sound of your phone buzzing on the nightstand jolted you from your thoughts. You glanced over, and your heart sank when you saw Stan’s name flashing on the screen. He had texted you earlier, asking if you wanted to hang out tonight. You hadn’t responded, too caught up in the whirlwind of emotions that had consumed you since taking the test.

With shaky hands, you picked up the phone, staring at the screen as if it held all the answers. How were you supposed to act normal around him now? How could you pretend that everything was fine when your world had just been flipped upside down?

You couldn’t avoid him forever. You knew that. But the thought of telling him the truth made you feel sick.

After a long moment, you typed out a reply.

Can you come over? I need to talk to you.

Your thumb hovered over the send button for a few seconds before you finally pressed it. There was no turning back now.

The next hour passed in a blur. You didn’t even remember what you did to fill the time — maybe you paced around the room, maybe you stared at the wall, maybe you just sat in silence, trying to process everything. All you knew was that by the time you heard the knock on the front door, your heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might burst out of your chest.

You made your way downstairs, your legs feeling weak beneath you. When you opened the door, Stan stood there, looking as calm and collected as ever, a soft smile on his face.

“Hey,” he greeted you, stepping inside. “What’s up? You seemed kinda off earlier.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the lump in your throat grow bigger. “We need to talk,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Stan’s smile faltered, concern immediately flickering in his eyes. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

You gestured for him to follow you upstairs, leading him to your room. As you closed the door behind him, you could feel his eyes on you, watching your every move, waiting for an explanation.

“Stan,” you began, turning to face him, your hands wringing together anxiously. “I… I don’t know how to say this.”

His brow furrowed, and he took a step closer to you, his hand reaching out to gently touch your arm. “Hey, whatever it is, you can tell me. It’s okay.”

You bit your lip, trying to find the words, trying to steady your voice. But it was so hard. So much harder than you had imagined.

“I’m… I’m pregnant,” you finally said, the words tumbling out in a rush before you could stop them.

Stan froze.

For a moment, the room was completely silent, the air thick with the weight of your confession. You watched his face, waiting for some kind of reaction, but he just stared at you, as if trying to process what you had just said.

“Pregnant?” he repeated, his voice barely audible, as if he couldn’t quite believe it.

You nodded, your eyes filling with tears. “I took a test this morning. It was positive.”

Stan ran a hand through his hair, his expression a mixture of shock and confusion. “But… how? We were—”

“I don’t know,” you interrupted, your voice breaking. “I don’t know how it happened. But it did. And I don’t know what to do.”

The tears spilled over then, and you quickly wiped them away, feeling embarrassed and scared and vulnerable all at once. You had never felt so exposed in your life, standing here in front of Stan, waiting for him to react, waiting for him to say something — anything.

Stan took a deep breath, his eyes darting around the room as if he were searching for answers, for something to say that would make this all better. But there was nothing. There was no simple fix for this.

Finally, he looked at you, his eyes softening. “Hey, hey, don’t cry,” he said, stepping forward and pulling you into a hug. His arms wrapped around you tightly, and for a moment, you let yourself melt into his embrace, grateful for the comfort, for the way he made you feel safe even in the midst of chaos.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered against his chest. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

Stan pulled back slightly, his hands resting on your shoulders as he looked down at you, his expression serious but calm. “It’s not your fault. We’re both responsible, okay? This isn’t just on you.”

You nodded, sniffling as you wiped your eyes again. “I’m just so scared, Stan. I don’t know what to do.”

“I know,” he said softly, his thumbs gently brushing away the remaining tears on your cheeks. “I’m scared too.”

That admission caught you off guard, and you looked up at him, surprised. Stan had always been the calm one, the steady one, the one who could handle anything. Hearing him admit that he was scared too made you feel a little less alone in this.

“We’ll figure it out,” he continued, his voice steady. “We’ll figure it out together.”

You nodded, grateful for his reassurance but still feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you. “What if… what if we can’t handle this? What if we’re not ready?”

Stan hesitated for a moment, clearly grappling with the same fears that were swirling around in your mind. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice quiet. “I don’t know if we’re ready either. But… we don’t have to have all the answers right now. We just have to take it one step at a time.”

You nodded again, trying to take comfort in his words, even though the fear still lingered in the back of your mind.

“What do we do now?” you asked, your voice small and uncertain.

Stan let out a long breath, his hands still resting on your shoulders. “We’ll have to tell our parents,” he said slowly, as if the thought had just occurred to him. “We can’t do this alone.”

The idea of telling your parents made your stomach twist in knots all over again. You had no idea how they were going to react. But Stan was right — you couldn’t handle this on your own. You needed support, whether you were ready for it or not.

“I’m with you,” Stan said, as if reading your mind. “We’ll do it together. You’re not alone in this.”

His words brought a small sense of relief, and you found yourself nodding again, though your heart still raced with anxiety.

“Okay,” you said, taking a deep breath. “Okay. We’ll tell them.”

Stan smiled gently, his hand moving up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “We’re going to be okay,” he said, his voice soft but confident. “I don’t know how yet, but we’ll figure it out. I promise.”

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with gratitude and love for the boy standing in front of you. Despite the fear and uncertainty that loomed over you, there was one thing you knew for sure: Stan cared about you. He wasn’t going to abandon you in this.

“I love you,” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

Stan’s eyes softened even more, and he smiled. “I love you too.”

And in that moment, as he held you in his arms, you believed him. Maybe you didn’t have all the answers yet. Maybe the road ahead was going to be difficult and scary and filled with challenges you couldn’t even begin to imagine.

But you weren’t alone.

You had Stan.

And somehow, that made all the difference.

#south park #stan marsh #stan marsh x reader #stan marsh x y/n #x reader

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tellodona · 1 year ago

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Imagine the brothers with and mc who's comfortable sitting in the most random positions ever. Like sitting upside down on the couch, curled up really tightly on a chair- do you vision what I'm visioning?? Yeah anyways I feel like demons aren't as flexible has humans and so they'd just be really freaking confused like how??

I thought of this really randomly so yk hopenhave fun with it!! <3

- Sky

i've always had this headcanon after seeing a fic about it ! where the demons and angels aren't as flexible as humans

time to traumatize some demons

the brothers when mc sits in a bone-cracking (for them) position

heads up: gn!mc

lucifer

the both of you were hanging out in his study whilst he works

he excuses himself to get a glass of water

leaves you sitting upside down on one of the sofas, your legs up and your head dangling over at the edge, but he didn't think much of it at first

he comes back to see you bending over the sofa's backrest, your upper body behind it and your lower body facing him

he pales

slightly maybe

he places down the glass on the coffee table, and walked around the sofa, and you tilt your head up at him

"oh, hey lucifer"

mc?????????

you didn't look like you were in any pain, but still

he left you alone and just sat and worked again on his desk, sparing you a glance every now and then

you were trying out more positions that he's trying so hard to fight a grimace

he swears he feels a phantom ache somewhere on his back

mammon

the both of you were in his room (he dragged you there as soon as you got changed when you got home from rad)

you were laying on his couch, him sitting there too, and your legs over his lap

both of you were on your phones

the more focused on your phone you were, your legs somehow get raised into the air

he doesn't even notice it either

it was then ten minutes later he realizes the weight on his lap was gone, so he turns to his right to see you still there

but your legs bent all the way to your head

he jaw drops

he pulls at your legs, pulling them down back on his lap

"what the hell do you think you were doin', huh?!"

you don't even know

you just stare at each other

leviathan

listen, i know, we're going to be expecting you and levi to be playing games, don't come at me

anyway

you were sitting on the floor with him in front of his monitor, playing god knows what (you didn't understand him because he said the name too quickly)

you were sitting in indian seat, which didn't set any alarms in his head at first, since he's sitting like that too

but then you did this pose to get a good look at the monitor

i legit don't know how to describe it, so google came in clutch

levi looked at you with a grimace and worry

"mc... is that comfortable? or..."

you sit up straight and put your attention to him

"is what comfortable?"

he never got to answer because his character died

satan

he invited you to his room to show you books he recently bought

you were interested in one of the genres, and he pointed out a stack somewhere with the same ones

you went over and looked over the titles and found the one at the bottom sounding interesting

you did a split to slide to the bottom to get it

satan GAPED

and when you stood up just as casually he stared at you with his jaw still open

"uhm. there's a fly going inside your mouth"

"oh"

asmodeus

he read something about yoga in an article from the human world

so he's been curious about it so he asked you to show him what it is

he asked for something that doesn't need standing too much, and you coincidentally was already sitting on his bed

so you delivered

this pose

he gasped

"m- mc, dear! you're breaking your bones!"

"...but you were asking about yoga poses..."

"i will never ask again! sit up straight! sit properly! hurry! your beautiful legs!"

beelzebub

you both were exercising

but then you had to tie your shoe

he was about to offer to tie them for you, but then you sat down and bent all the way down to reach your shoes

he was horrified

"mc!!!!!"

he picks you up and straightens your body out

"mc! y- you could've broken your bones! are you okay????"

"i was just tying my shoe..."

yeah he'll be carrying you home on his shoulder

belphegor

you were sleeping in the attic

he had to go back to his room to get his favorite pillow

when he returns, he sees your body twisted around

his jaw drops 2.0

he approaches you, hovering his hands over your body, unsure of what to do

you didn't look like you were in any discomfort, but then again, you were asleep...

but then you moved on your own to sleep on your side, your body not horrifically twisted

he's still unsure

he just cuddles into you, subtly feeling for any broken bones and just sleeps on his worries

(he forgot humans were flexible)

I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I WAS SO BUSY

i'm also sorry this is bland af......

#they dont know what to do #human are you okay <- them probably #omswd #obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor

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devilat-thedoor · 1 year ago

Text

What Is and What Should Never Be(teaser)

okaaaaaaay🤍

@interstellar-shores and @sanguinebats convinced me to just share it… I wrote this scene for a chapter in my upcoming Twin fic ‘What Is and What Should Never Be.’ I’m sososo excited about this one and I want everyone to be excited with me🥹 but to avoid spoiling any of the plot, I’ve left this at just pure smut. The only context I will give is that Jake calls her ‘peach’ because she was wearing a shirt like this when he met her, and Olivia (OC) is another employee at the twin’s record store. I’m adding the taglist, but you don’t have to read if you don’t want to! I’m aiming to have Chapter 1 out this week💖 but as always, feedback is welcome🤍🤍

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI absolutely no plot, just filth. Dom!Jake/Toxic!Jake. Oral(m receiving). Degradation kink. Unprotected Sex. Reader Discretion Advised😁

💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿💿

The only thing you could focus on was the way his lips moved over your skin, leaving a wet trail in their wake. You grasped at his shirt, trying to pull him closer as he slowly walked you backwards. The back of your thighs hit the mattress and his lips found yours again, kissing you hard as he pushed you to lay on your back and crawled over you. “Why does your bed sit so high?” The question came as he broke away to yank your shirt over your head, exposing your bare breasts to the cool air in his room.

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your leggings, peeling them down slowly. “No panties either?” He tsked, “And you went to work like this?” You bit your lip with a shrug, curious as to what he might do. Once he had you fully nude, he stepped back to gaze upon you. Your eyes flicked down, locking on the bulge in his jeans, his cock begging to be freed. Jake snapped his fingers, regaining your attention, “You really wanna know why my bed is this high, peach?”

You sat up on your elbows and cocked an eyebrow at him, giving him your brattiest attitude, “Why else would I have asked the fucking question, Jake?” His face dropped and you watched his eyes darken. The warning look he was giving you was enough to set your insides on fire, but you kept going, egging him on, “Are you just gonna stare at me or is there a point to this conversation?”

His lips twisted into a menacing smirk as he walked around to the other side of the bed. You were still laying across the mattress, only moving your head to follow his path. Jake stopped, standing behind you now as you looked up at him. Suddenly, his hands were gripping you under the arms, pulling you towards him until your shoulders were at the very edge of the bed and your head was hanging off the side, upside down. He chuckled as you let out a small gasp and stared up at him.

“Jake… What are you doing?” You watched him unbuckle his belt and pop the button on his jeans, abruptly aware of the position you were in. He pushed his pants down, kicking them to the side and revealing his hard cock. You licked your lips as he wrapped his hand around himself, giving a few pumps.

He brought his free hand up, fingers dancing along your jaw with a light touch, “Do you trust me?” Jake inched closer, the head of his length brushing against your parted lips. You mumbled a quiet ‘yeah’ and flicked your tongue out, tasting him. “I need to really hear you say it, peach.” His hand went to the back of your head, lifting it so you could meet his eyes, “Tell me you trust me, baby.”

“I do, Jake. I trust you.” A smile tugged at his lips at your admission.

He crouched down, gently letting your head dangle again, and pressed his lips to yours. It was awkward being upside down, but your tongues licked against one another and the way he bit down on your bottom lip made you clench your thighs in need. “If it’s too much,” Jake grabbed your hand, nipping the tip of your index finger between his teeth, “tap my leg with these pretty little fingers, okay?”

You couldn’t contain the excitement coursing through you, “Okay.” The anticipation had your chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Open up for me.” He dropped your hand as he stood up, stroking himself again. You obeyed, holding your mouth open. He guided his tip past your lips and halted as his opposite hand flattened across your sternum, “Relax. You gotta slow your breathing, Y/N.” Squeezing your eyes shut, you tried to focus enough to gain a shred of composure. Once he was satisfied he pushed himself a little further, gliding along your tongue. “Softer than the finest silk…” He drew out carefully and dove back in, muttering obscenities as you allowed your tongue to roll over his hot flesh. His palm lifted from your torso and you could feel his fingertips ghosting upwards, between your breasts, dipping into the hollow of your neck. Jake finally bottomed out, his cock nestled snug in your throat while his fingers continued their trail, stopping at your neck. He remained still, buried in your mouth, as his thumb stroked down the length of your esophagus. You fought the gag that threatened its way up, swallowing it back down. His hand curled around your throat as it fluttered around his dick, “I can feel myself right here, peach…” Jake added the smallest amount of pressure to your neck, “Remember what I said if it’s too much.” He pulled out almost fully, holding your face in both of his hands now, and drove his cock back into your mouth with force. He set an unrelenting pace, completely enveloped in the wet warmth of your mouth. The blood was rushing to your head as your eyes rolled back and you hummed against him, letting your tongue vibrate over his length. He leaned over you, his hands moving to your tits to squeeze them. “You’re doing so fucking well…” A strangled grunt caught in his chest, “Swallowing my cock like a good little whore.” He punctuated the last word with a sharp thrust and the gag you’d been fighting had finally ripped free as your throat spasmed around his head. If you could see his face, you’d have caught the proud grin spreading over it as he repeated the action. Another hard snap of his hips, met with a gag and a cough that sent a gush of thick saliva through your lips, coating his dick and dripping down your face. The added spit allowed him to slip in and out of your mouth with ease. Your chest was heaving as you fought to catch your breath but Jake didn’t slow his rhythm. “Can’t make those bratty remarks while you’re choking on me, can you, peach?” His cocky attitude sent a flood of arousal to your core as you writhed on the bed, fists gripping at the duvet. Your vision was cloudy and you weren’t sure if it was from the blood filling your head or the mixture of tears and spit in your eyes. Jake pushed himself the whole way in until the prickly shaved patch of hair met your chin, “Take it. Fucking gag on it.” He stayed in place, feeling your throat pulse around him with every gag. He was so close, his cock twitching against your tongue, but the throbbing in your head was too much to bear anymore. “God, you feel like fucking heav-.” His words were cut short by your hand shooting up and tapping against his thigh. He pulled himself from your mouth without hesitation and slid his hands under your shoulders, lifting you into a sitting position. Jake climbed onto the bed to sit beside you, rubbing his hand down your back as you coughed through gasping breaths. “You alright?” He asked once you were calmed down. You answered with a meek nod, wiping at your face with the backs of your hands. He pulled his t-shirt off, offering it to you to clean the rest of your face and you took it, swiping away the remnants of spit and tears. “You couldn’t hold on just a little longer?” He joked as his hand slid along your thigh, stopping just before his fingers could reach your cunt.

You responded with a laugh, “Oh gee, I’m sorry I didn’t just let myself pass out so you could finish in my throat, Jake. My bad.” You pushed his hand from your body and turned your back to him with a smirk, knowing your attitude would get under his skin. “Maybe you’d enjoy this more with Olivia… or what is it you called her?” You looked back at him over your shoulder, “Your gold star?”

He was clenching his jaw as you looked away from him again, “Cut the fucking brat act and c’mere.” His aggressive tone clashed with the gentle way his hand circled your wrist. You let him pull you towards him, “Liv is a solid bronze compared to you, peach.” You crawled into his lap, straddling him as he praised you, “You’re fucking golden…” His hand weaved into your hair, guiding your mouth onto his. The kiss deepened and you reached between your bodies, adjusting your position and grasping Jake’s cock to align it with your entrance. He disconnected from your lips, dropping his gaze to where you hovered over his length, and his cocky demeanor was back, “Y’gonna keep running that smart mouth or are you gonna be a good girl and fuck me?” You answered his inquiry by sinking onto him slowly, feeling him stretch your pussy. He sucked in a sharp breath when you were fully seated on him.

Giving yourself a moment to adjust to his thickness, you pushed his hair from his face with a sweet smile, “You love my smart mouth, baby…” You raised yourself up only to drop back down on his throbbing dick. He leaned back on his hands, watching you go to work on him. The way your tits bounced as you rode him and the noises your bodies made with every drop of your hips, he couldn’t get enough of it. He was in pure ecstasy, his head thrown back, jaw hanging open as he fought back the moans that wanted out. You moved faster, grabbing his shoulders and opting for a grinding motion, “Suddenly you don’t have much to say, Jakey…” You eyed him with a mischievous glint.

His head snapped up at your comment, “And suddenly, I’m sick of hearing you talk.” In a flash, he had you on your back. You hit the bed with a thud as a squeal rippled from your mouth. Jake hooked your right leg around his waist, holding it there while his right hand came up to your chin, fitting three of his fingers against your tongue. You couldn’t contain the whimpers and whines that bubbled out around his digits as he took control, driving you into the mattress with each powerful thrust. He let out a low laugh, “Yeah, you just keep making those sweet, pathetic sounds while you take my cock.” His fingers kept you mute of all words, not that you’d be able to form a coherent sentence anyway. You squeezed around him, causing his movements to stutter, and he pulled his hand from your mouth to support his weight as he leaned over you, fucking you deeper.

You pulled your left leg up, spreading wider for him, “F-fuck. Right there, baby.” His hand left your leg, traveling downward to grasp your hip. “Jake…” You gasped his name, your voice oozing with desperation. His eyes met yours, his brows drawn together in a questioning gaze. Your hands cupped his face, pulling him closer to you as you held eye contact, “Finish in me.”

Jake began to slow his hips, unsure if he’d heard you correctly, “Y/N…”

You wrapped your legs around him, holding him tightly against you as you repeated yourself, “Finish in me so I can go back to work with the reminder of who owns me. Who owns my pussy…” His lips were crashing into yours fervently as his hips started moving with more power.

He was panting hard as he hovered over you, “God, You make the dirtiest words sound so fucking pretty.” Now he was really moving, deep grunts leaving his throat with each mind blowing stroke. “You gonna go back to work with no panties on? Just letting my cum leak down your thighs like a filthy slut?” His thumb found your clit, rolling over the sensitive bud with just enough pressure to push you to the edge. Your hands went to his back, nails dragging over his flesh as you clenched around him. “Shit, baby… Keep squeezing me like that and you’ll get exactly what you want.” Jake was gritting his teeth and you could tell he was fighting his climax off. His thumb moved quicker over your clit and you squeezed his cock again, “Let me fucking have it, peach. I know you’re right there, I want it.” He pulled his hips back, almost removing himself from your cunt, and slammed back in, surely hitting your cervix.

All the air left your lungs in a second as your eyes rolled back. You clawed at Jake’s skin, your mouth hanging open as your orgasm hit. The way your pussy fluttered around his length, soaking him, he couldn’t hold it together anymore. His head dropped to the crook of your neck as he came, his sticky release coating your walls. He was murmuring against your skin while your hands mindlessly rubbed down his back, easing him into a state of calm. A smile broke over your face but when you opened your mouth to speak, your phone began ringing on the bed beside you. You glanced at the screen and then the digital clock on Jake’s nightstand, a panic rising in your chest, “It’s Josh… My lunch break was over 15 minutes ago, get up, Jake.” He groaned, the sound muffled against your skin, but made no attempt to move. You pushed at his shoulders and wiggled beneath him, trying to buck his body off of your own, “Jake, I have to go, I can’t afford to lose my job.”

🤍Taglist🤍

@ohgodthefeeling-gvf @ignite-my-fire @sanguinebats @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @ieatedsammy @twistedmelodies @dropdeadalyx31 @ageofbajabule @becinabubblegvf @literal-dead-leaf @laneygvf @myleftsock

#jake kiszka #greta van fleet #gvf #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka smut #josh kiszka #josh kiszka x reader #josh kiszka smut #sinsofstardust

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the-artist5917 · 2 months ago

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The Day Back...

TW: Child abuse, agony, and mentions of mental illness.

You have been warned. (Here we go again yall >:D)

Baldi buried his head into his pillow, trying his best to block the screams and cries of pain. It was no use though…His sensitive senses picked up each sound his father and brothers made. He wished it would just all stop…

He pressed the pillow around his face, to block the sounds, but it was no use.

Baldi lifted his head up, flinching as the sounds intensified. He got up, grabbing the pillow to muffle the sounds again as he looked for something else he could use to block the noise. He would stop Badsum’s suffering if he could, but who knew what Micah would do to him if he tried…

As he searched his room, the sounds of screaming stopped. That was the most frightening sound of all.

Baldi let go of the pillow protecting his ears, shaking his head. He could pick up the faint sound of Badsum gasping for air. He wondered what Micah had done to him this time…

At least the sound had sto-

“Wait! I’m sorry I don’t-”

Dsci’s plea was cut of by a sharp ripping sound. Baldi again flinched at the sound. He covered his ears before his brother could cry out in pain. Baldi’s heart skipped a beat.

His fear spiked, not just for his brothers, but for him too. He knew Micah would come for him next.

Baldi darted under his bed, shoving himself into the small space. He turned so his back was facing the door and shoved his face back into the pillow, trying to steady his racing heart. He felt sick at the thought there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Baldi took a shuddering breath. All he could do was await his fate…

Eventually, Dsci’s screams died to small whimpers. Baldi’s dread rose. Darkness pressed around the edges of his thoughts. His shaking grew worse when he heard footsteps approaching his door.

His door slowly opened.

Baldi cursed himself for turning away from the door. He covered his mouth so his breathing wouldn’t be loud. Maybe if he was quiet, his father would go look somewhere else for him…And then what?

Baldi’s heart jumped in his throat as his leg was tugged roughly from under the bed. He squealed like a child as his father hanged him upside down by his leg. Micah’s eyes blazed red in anger. He suddenly slammed him down on the floor, knocking the breath from his lungs.

The body of water gasped for air, but before he could catch his breath, Micah again grabbed him, but this time by his throat. Baldi scrabbled weakly at his father’s hand around his neck.

Micah raised a fist and slammed it against his son’s face, knocking him to the ground again. Baldi landed painfully against the ground, groaning.

Micah placed a foot on top of Baldi’s head and grabbed a fist-full of his hair, pulling and tugging at it. Baldi screamed as pain exploded in his head. He fought to get free, but his father held him still. His pain turned to agony the more hair was ripped out of his head. He didn’t know how much time passed before his father dropped him again.

Baldi felt warm blood drip down his face and onto the ground. His head throbbed. He was in too much pain to think, or even move…

Micah grabbed him by the last strand of hair left on the top of his head and gazed deep into his eyes. He opened his mouth, but instead of words, a strange beep came from it.

Baldi jerked awake. The sound that Micah made in his dream was his alarm ringing on his phone. He grabbed his phone and turned it off before relaxing against his bed and staring at the ceiling. He could almost still feel the throbbing of his head from…

No.

He promised Dave that he wouldn’t dwell on the past.

Baldi sat up in his bed, looking around his room. It was so strange to be back home…He missed the hospital already…The familiar anxiety sparked up in his chest, setting his heart beating a bit faster. He tried not to think too much about what things might happen today…

The body of water got out of bed and got dressed in his usual green sweater and jeans. He felt so out of place, like someone would point him out and call him an imposter.

Speaking of…

Baldi wondered what everyone would say to him…After years of the abuse and trauma he had caused the whole school. What if they avoided him? What if they hissed and scowled at him…? He wouldn’t blame them of course. All if this was his fault anyways…

He really wish he had stayed at the hospital…With his best friend to take care of him…

But Dave had said that he would feel better if he had went back to his normal life and faced his fears.

Baldi sighed. He hoped he was right…

Baldi headed out of the door after he had finished getting ready, heading out to his car. He tried to ignore the cold blast that brushed his face. He just needed to get to school so he could hurry up and get back home.

The dread he felt grew stronger and stronger the closer he got to school. His heart skipped a beat every time he thought about what everyone would say to him. Especially Principle…And maybe even Dr. Reflex. God knew how much he hated facing up to his mistakes.

Baldi parked in his space, turned off his car and gathered his things. He looked at himself in the rear-view mirror. He took a deep breath.

“You can do this,” He told himself firmly. But he wasn’t even sure he believed himself…

Baldi entered the cold air once more and headed toward the yellow doors. He hesitated just before he could enter the school. He took another deep breath to calm his nerves.

He pushed open the door before he could think too hard. Baldi looked around the hallway. So many bad memories took place here, in his favorite hallway…

He pushed his dark thoughts away and walked to the middle fork toward his classroom. He opened the door and almost dropped his things. Standing in front of him was his friend Alex. He looked just as surprised to see him too. His startled look turned to one of joy. He scooped his best friend into his arms and hugged him tight, lifting him easily off of the ground.

“BALDI!! HOLY SHIT!!” Alex squealed loudly. “I didn’t know you would be coming back today!!”

Baldi gripped Alex’s arms, afraid he would fall. “I-it’s nice to see you too-” He stammered.

The beast set him down with a nervous laugh. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you- I’m just glad to see you back!”

The math teacher smiled a little at his

words.

“You don’t mind if I stayed here? You probably need a bit of help to get back into the swing

of things?”

Baldi was about to tell Alex that he had been teaching for years and that he didn’t need help ‘getting back into the swing of things’, but he would really like it if he had someone to help him. It would give him an excuse to not interact with the other staff, and it would also be nice if Alex was by his side.

“Sure. I don’t see why not.”

Alex’s smile was so wide it was almost going off of his face. He seemed genuinely happy to see him back…And that made Baldi’s heart warm. But was he going to be the only one happy to see him?

The sound of the yellow doors opening in front of them alarmed Baldi to a new presence. He jerked his head toward the newcomer. His heart jumped in his throat to see his boss standing in the doorway. They both stared at each other. Finally, after what felt like hours, Principle cleared his throat and straightened.

@camperwilliambaldimore

#baldis basics #baldi au #baldi art #baldi #baldi ask blog #bbieal baldi #bbieal #principal of the thing #dr reflex #Lore #Important #He's back!!#child abuse #Agony #mental illness #anxitey #trauma #Maybe a bit of gay too 👀👀

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meet-me-backstage · 1 year ago

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⎈

𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐄𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐞𝐧 ⎈ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐰

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 🦇 Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 🦇 You get dragged into the unfathomable events at Starcourt Mall by your hopeless crush on Billy Hargrove and new-found middle-schooler friends. You struggle to cope with the trauma which gradually costs you your popular cheerleader reputation when you return to high school for senior year. Though this loss first appears to be the end of the world, you learn that there's worse things than levelling down in popularity.

Though even in darkness, there is always a light - for you this is Eddie Munson, who you gain an unlikely friendship in and fall for him in the process.

𝑳𝒐𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒖𝒑𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏𝒔, 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈!

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 🦇 smoking, mention of and consumption of drugs, horror themes, violence (in the upside down and probs Steve losing another fight (•̀ᴗ•́)و jk jk he's king), nightmares, mention of and consumption of alcohol, death, bad language, blood, bullying, mention of vomit and vomiting, mention of and near death experience, some domestic (mainly verbal and emotional) abuse(‼️), mention of suicidal thoughts, mention of suicide, mention of self-harm, allusion to eating disorder and smUUT so you must be 18+ to read this story❗️

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐞𝐧 🦇 2.9K words

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐞𝐧 🦇 horror themes, nightmares, bad language and domestic (verbal and allusion to physical) abuse.

𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 - 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝, 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲, 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠!

𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲, 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 ‘𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐄𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲’ 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝! <𝟑

⇜ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐞 ⎈ 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫

🦇 𝟏𝟎𝐭𝐡 𝐀𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐬𝐭, 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟓 🦇

You are sat on your bed, staring at one of the corners of your bedroom, more specifically, the corner with a little pink chair that currently has Eddie's bandana hung from the back of it... you’d caught yourself doing it a lot, staring at it or holding it because all you could think about was your encounter with Eddie in the woods seven days, one hour, five minutes and thirty-one seconds ago.

It scared you... how easily I opened up to him, how easily I broke... how I listened... how I believed him... how I wasn't... terrified of him now I knew there were worse things than Eddie Munson and the Hellfire Club.

Your legs nervously bounce up and down as you think about his advice, you fiddle with your hair and realise you are face to face with your vanity desk across the room. You turn away and look down... I can’t even look at myself in the mirror or in any reflection because I remind myself of my sister, being the spitting image of her and all...

You pick your head up, purposefully avoiding eye contact with your vanity desk - a place you hadn't sat at to do your make-up or hair for a whole month.

Your boom box is on the floor, cassettes everywhere and clothes hanging out of your draws - it had been a mess for a while... mom didn't know because I locked the door at all times and she hadn't bothered to pick at the lock because let's face it - she didn't want to see me. I am doing her a favor and she had become so hellbent on staying downstairs awaiting Rebecca's impossible return... they never found a body, but only a handful of teens, including me, knew why.

Knock!

Your head swiftly turns towards the source of the noise and boom, your heart jolts and your body jumps at the sight of a shadowy figure at your window, an eye peeking through your curtains.

You steadily move off of your bed and reach underneath it for your handmade catapult and stones... you had it there for protection because of what you’d seen at Starcourt, the curse of Hawkins, all of the visions you’d had recently that felt so real... it convinced you that it was still here in some sort of supernatural form, the Mind Flayer, "I hope you're ready for my wrath, asshole," you mutter under your breath as you place a stone into the pouch you made out of a little necklace bag.

You slowly reach for the curtain, your heartbeat gradually building up in pace as you squint your eyes shut and abruptly swing it open and aim the catapult, pulling the pouch back and opening your eyes...

Eddie?! A completely soaked Eddie is at my window.

His brown eyes are wide with shock at coming face to face with your catapult and you are shocked at coming face to face with him. You gasp before looking behind you and then quickly shoving the window up, "You scared the hell outta me!" You whisper in a shout as you lower the catapult, his eyes are fixed on it still.

With one brow higher than the other, he looks up at you, "Well you scared the hell outta me - aiming that lethal thing at my head!" He whisper shouts back and gestures to the catapult with the hand that isn’t holding onto your window ledge, "Why do you even have that anyway?"

You drop the catapult to the floor and cross your arms, "Why are you here?!" You keep glancing behind you, conscious of your mom potentially hearing the commotion.

He looks at you with a deadpan look and his bottom lip pouted, "My bandana."

"Are you serious?!" You huff.

"Mhm... I waited a week in the woods - every night for you to show up with my beloved bandana - but you never came sooo," he gestures at himself, crouched on the small bit of roof leading to your window, "I got tired of sitting in the rain so I decided to take matters into my own hands."

Your mouth is hung open as he speaks, but you keep your arms crossed to stay stern, "How do you even know that this is my window?"

"I didn't," he shrugs before a sudden cheeky and toothy grin forms on his lips as he stares up at you, "S'pose it was a lucky guess huh?"

"You can't be here, Eddie," you whisper with a serious and worried tone, looking over your shoulder again.

Eddie tries to follow your gaze at the door before looking up at you, realisation spreads across his features, "I'll be out of your hair once I have it ba-achew!" He sneezes loudly, sniffling and wiping his nose after, making you glare at him, "Sorry," he whispers sassily.

He's going to catch a cold - if he hasn't caught one already... and it would be my fault. "Quick - get in before I regret it, Munson," You state in a rush, backing away from him as he climbs into your bedroom, making a thud sound on the floor when he lands, "Shhhh!"

"Sorry!" He repeats in another whisper, lifting himself from the floor and standing up straight, making squelchy noises because of his damp clothes and shoes.

You fiddle with the fair hairs on your arms in complete silence and look at Eddie in disbelief... he is in my room, no boy, not even Billy had been in my room - only Mason has... and he's my brother. Eddie, once he'd gotten his bearings, bowed his head and refused to even look around, fiddling with his fingers - not a sound but the raindrops landing on the roof and faint mumblings of the television downstairs could be heard.

You are both silent - nervous.

"Y-your um - bandana is there," you point at it, but then look at his dirty sneakers... carpet stains, "I'll get it," you blurt suddenly. Eddie looks up finally, watching your every move anxiously as you pick up his bandana and walk towards him. A part of you didn't want to part with it, you look down at it endearingly before shyly glancing up at Eddie, who is still looking at you, examining you... your cheeks suddenly heat up, "H-here," you hand it to him before rubbing your tired eyes.

Silence.

"'S probably a stupid question but I'm gonna ask anyway," His eyes flicker between your eyes, gently taking the bandana from you, your fingers brushing "Are you feeling better - after our talk?"

You sigh softly and look down, rubbing your eyes more.

He purses his lips, still watching you closely and you grow more and more anxious by the second, "No offence, but you look like you haven't slept in years - decades even," he states with a playful undertone, but you can tell that he means every word.

You huff a laugh, rolling your eyes, "Decades - really?"

"I'm serious," he chuckles softly, his cheeks pinkish, "How long has miss moonlight gone without sleep?"

It takes every fibre of your being not to roll your eyes again, you cross your arms, keeping your lips sealed - he mirrors your actions and crosses his arms too and you give in... you roll my eyes and visibly deflate in defeat, "Not since that night - in the woods," you mumble, "I've sorta been - stopping myself - from sleeping."

He tilts his head, confused, "Why?"

You shrug, "Nightmares," you can’t help but visibly shiver at the thought of the most recent one you had.

He blinks at you, "Y'know, I'm all for embracing fantasy - but Freddy Krueger isn't real-."

"Shhhh!"

His eyes widen, his mouth agape, "Oh - maybe he is-."

"Shut up!" You whisper shout, glaring at him, "I'm serious, Eddie," you place your hand over your heart, frowning as you feel everything inside you just sink, making you feel light-headed. He clearly thinks I'm a joke, that I am impossible to take seriously because I can't explain the depth of my situation. "You - wouldn't - understand a-nyway," your knees buckle as the severity and heaviness of what you’d been holding in became too much... Eddie quickly steps forward and catches you by your elbows.

"Woah," he keeps a hold of you for a few moments and everything in your body feels numb... apart from your elbows, where his hands are - you quickly shake your head and move your arms away from his grasp, "Er - m-aybe you should - s-it down somewhere," he mumbles unsurely.

You speedily turn away from him, embarrassed and you fall onto your bed into a sitting position, your legs crossed, "My sleep schedule is none of your business."

He can’t even look at you sitting on the bed, he grows shy and looks like he wants to vanish into thin air, "I-I know - I just-."

"Why do you care?"

You’d annoyed him, his face turns into what looks like frustration, he places a hand over his eyes and sighs, "I've just been thinking about you a lot, m'kay - I know it's not my business and you don't like me even a little bit but - I make it my business to look out for others," he rambles, shaking his head.

"So I'm now a pity case, huh?" You huff, "I don't know why I opened up to you, Munson - I really don't, but just because I did, it doesn't mean we're now gonna be best buds and skip towards the sunset, singing - 'Rainbow in the Dark' together," you spit the words out so fast that once you’re silent again and the mental image of you and Eddie with linked arms, singing Dio on field of beautiful flowers, invades your brain... you look up at Eddie, who is biting his lips together in attempt to stop himself from laughing, "It's not funny," you lean forward and playfully slap his arm, giggling.

"Hey," he whispers, little giggles leaving his lips, "it is a little bit funny," he brings his hand up, gesturing 'little' with his ring clad fingers. “Besides, I think - ‘Lonely Is The Word’ - Black Sabbath - suits us better, don’t you?”

Why isn’t he running for the hills after being pushed away by me so much?

You stare up at him in wonder, his cheeks are puffed up while he grins cheekily.

Is he flirting with me or is he as lonely as I am? I’m gonna go with the latter.

When the silence becomes too loud for him he looks over his shoulder at your open window before pointing with his thumb over his shoulder while looking down at you, "I’d - better um - go then?"

"No!" You blurt suddenly before quickly bringing your hand to your mouth and look at your door, frightened, "S-sit," you point at the end of your bed and manoeuvre yourself so that your back is pressed against your headboard.

Eddie looks startled and sheepish, his usually fidgety self is as stiff as a plank of wood... he exhales, trying to calm himself down and he steps forward before hissing in shock as he almost trips over your basketball in the middle of the room, "Jesus Chr- I'm - okay," he sighs before carefully sitting at the end of your bed, his hands in his lap.

You bring your legs closer to your upper half and rest your chin on your knees, "Maybe that was karma - for making fun of it - calling it the 'balls in laundry baskets' game," I giggle softly, mimicking his voice and trying to ignore the fact that your heart is beating so fast... this is wrong - Becky would've snitched on me, mom probably would hit me again... this feels very rebellious… I kinda like it.

Eddie's mouth is practically zipped shut, he side-eyes you at every single minuscule movement you make and fully turns his head when he sees that you’re reaching for your duvet and pulling it over you.

"Could you - I - I don't know - stay until I fall asleep?" You whisper softly, guilt flowing through you for even asking. I need to shut up. You hide your face behind your duvet and peek past it to see that Eddie's eyes are big, he looks hesitant. I should've stopped myself from asking when I had the chance.

He exhales shakily, "S-sure."

You’d never seen him so shy, usually he was jumping on tables or confronting bullies - he played metal guitar in front of the whole of middle school, parents, teachers and students at the talent show without a care in the world... "You - don't have to s-tay, Eddie."

"No - no, I'll - stay," he stutters, nodding his head eagerly and blushing.

"Okay," you mumble, watching him... you feel warm, a sense of comfort in your bedroom that you hadn't felt in a long time because finally, you aren’t alone... though out of everybody you knew, you certainly weren’t expecting Eddie Munson to be here right now to comfort you.

The shape of his silhouette stays visible as your eyelids flicker and slowly open and close. Though you are quickly and very easily falling asleep, you notice Eddie take a look at your room and take a particular interest in the pinboard you have hung up on your wall above your headboard - where you’d pinned your 'Ozzy the Tiger' notes from Billy.

Eddie sort of... smiles triumphantly at them, but you are too woozy to address it and your eyes feel heavy, you are falling asleep - peacefully… finally.

"Night-night, miss moonlight."

You are running now, your heart is pounding against your chest and your muscles ache.

Brimborn Steel Works is in the distance and you come to a halt when you look over your shoulder and see that nothing is behind you... you aren’t being chased by the Mind Flayer - you breathe heavily and bend over slightly to rest and to hold onto your thighs.

You visibly relax as each second goes by - you’d outran it after a month of trying unsuccessfully, you laugh breathlessly, thinking it’s all over.

You are so wrong. You couldn’t have been more wrong... all of the organs in your body feel as though they are sinking as a shadow comes your way and towers over you.

Your first port of call is Eddie - immediately you think of him because you feel so comforted by him suddenly. You run in the direction of the trailer park... your face scrunched up in pain, your knees buckling every so often.

Sobs leave your lips as the realisation that you can’t outrun this monster sets in... it just keeps hovering over you, moving with you.

You try not to scream when it sends it's tentacles for you, attaching themselves to you as you continue to try and run, but it is getting harder and you are getting slower. Your limbs are being pulled upwards and you look down, realising you’re in mid-air, levitating from the ground.

'Did you think you could avoid me, little miss thief.' The demonic voice, "You're mine," it says as you’re being pulled up, about to become Mind Flayer bait, but you feel yourself being shaken before you can merge with it - then suddenly you’re falling a fifteen foot drop to the ground.

You scream at the top of your lungs, kicking your legs violently, trying to get away from... Eddie?! Who is holding onto your wrists and hovering over you slightly with a terrified look on his face, "Holy shit - Tink!"

Your eyes are wide, your chest heaving as you begin to sob loudly... I can't get away, I'm losing my mind, I don't know what's real and what's not. Eddie's grasp on your wrist gets less tight, his hand is shaking and his lips are trembling, "It's okay, I promise - it's just a bad drea-," his thumb traces over the roughness of the scar on your wrist and he looks at it closely, a frown on his lips as he squints his eyes.

You hear your mother shout for you, then the thudding of her footsteps coming up the stairs getting louder and louder.

You physically cower, wishing that you had a shell to crawl into - the sound of your mother’s voice making you sob louder and tremble and you snatch your arm away from Eddie's grasp, who is looking at you completely dumbfounded, blinking profusely, not knowing what to do.

Your door rattles violently as your mom twists the handle and tries to open it, "Let me in!" Her voice sounds just like the monster that haunts you every night.

"G-go - away!" You sob, desperately trying to push Eddie off of your bed, "Leave me alone, please!"

Who am I even talking to? Mom? Eddie? The Mind Flayer?

Eddie jumps away as the door rattles more violently this time, he'd tried to stop you from pushing him away... he stood still in the middle of your room, he stares at the door with big eyes as your mom hits the door, "Don't you dare talk to me like that you good for nothing excuse of a daughter!" Eddie's face fell more as he drags his eyes away from the door to look at you, realisation spreading across his features and sadness in his big eyes.

You quickly pick up one of your pillows and throw it at him as you scream, "Go - go - goooo!" You continue to sob while you pick up your pillows and throw them in a state of emotional frenzy until he's gone... you quickly realise that the aim of my outburst had been at your mom, not Eddie, when there's nothing but emptiness, loneliness and continuous sounds of your bedroom door being jolted and sobs leaving your lips.

The door suddenly clicks at a particularly harsh jolt at your door from your mom, who bursts into the room and strides towards you with a horrific look on her face, moving as fast as the Mind Flayer’s tentacles… you brace yourself, hiding your red and swollen face between your knees and wrapping your arms tightly around your legs.

⇝ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 ⎈ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐃𝐚𝐲

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆!!!!! 𝐈𝐭'𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐲 <𝟑

𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 ‘𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐄𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲’ 𝐨𝐫 ’𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧’ 𝐭𝐚𝐠-𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰!

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ↯

𝑭𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝑯𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑻𝒐 𝑬𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒚

@sadbitchfangirl @ali-r3n @hostedparties-and-starvedmybody @kores-mun-son-n-more

𝑬𝒅𝒅𝒊𝒆 𝑴𝒖𝒏𝒔𝒐𝒏

@introvertedmouse @munsonology @fastnights @kathieycarrerarosshley @marjoriea13 @goldengunspinkrosses-blog @lolalanaie @neteyamsluvts @emma77645 @seatbacksandtraytables

⎈

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dumbass-tumbler-cryptid · 5 months ago

Note

Will you share any snippets of Spider and Cupcake modern au?

Sure! This is from one of Cabins many endings. Enjoy 💞

**********************************************************************

Miles was hanging upside down on the living room couch, watching t.v glazed eyed, bored out of his mind with nothing to do. It was Saturday and yet Kiri and Lo’ak couldn’t come over. They were basically on house arrest, forced to do nothing but study for finals through the weekend. And so he was alone. Despite nearly constantly being by himself, Miles still wasn’t used to it. More accurately he hated it, his monotonous days only brightened by the hope that his friends would show up to keep him company.

He stared down the t.v, not a thought in his head, not even absorbing the show or movie or whatever it was that he had thrown on in a bid for entertainment. And then the front door crashed open, startling him so badly he tumbled off the couch, hitting his head on the floor. “M.J!” the familiar voice of his Auntie Z called.

“In here,” he called back as he righted himself, while rubbing at the tender spot on the top of his noggin.

“Come outside,” Z yelled, not bothering to make her way to him, “I’ve got a surprise for you.” Curiosity pecked, Miles did as he was told, meeting his aunt in the driveway. “I figured you must be getting really lonely, couped up in this house twenty four seven,” she said as he approached, “so I decided to get you a friend.” With that Z opened the door to the back of her car, to a fluffy border collie that immediately leapt out, daintily taking a seat in front of him. Miles sucked in a breath, astonished. His aunt had gotten him a dog.

“This is Cupcake,” Z said, while Miles tentatively held out his hand for the dog to sniff. She took in his scent then sat back on her haunches. “She’s a service dog, trained by my wife.”

Miles reached out both his hands to cup the dog's face, ruffling her fur, “you're so pretty,” he said to Cupcake in a hush, squatting to be at eye level with her. In response she licked his face, making him laugh. “Yes, you're so good. What a good girl.”

Z smiled seeing the immediate bond between the boy and his dog. “She’s smart too,” Z said, “Cupcake learned faster than any other dog my wife has ever trained.”

“Trained to what?” Miles understood that Cupcake was supposed to be a service dog but he had no idea what that entailed.

“Come here,” Z waved him over to her side, Cupcake dutifully trailing after him. “Stand here,” Z positioned him with a wide circle of space, “now say her name and ask her to watch your six.”

“Cupcake,” her ears perked up at his call, head cocking slightly, “watch my six.” His dog instantly came to him, defensively wrapping her body around the right side of his legs, facing away from him to watch his back. Miles gasped not only because it was cool to see a dog so well trained, but because it instantly brought him a relief he hadn’t even realized he’d needed, feeling safe from any unseen lurking eyes.

“Good,” Z said, “now try asking her for a hug.”

Miles was unsure about this command but still did as his aunt asked, “Cupcake, hug.” She stopped watching his back, turning to face him. Cupcake waited a split second for their eyes to meet, then gently jumped into his arms, her front paws resting on his chest. The act brought Miles more comfort then he could have predicted. He wrapped his arms around her, petting her sides. “Good girl Cupcake.”

Z gave him a soft smile. “Come on. Help me unload all of her stuff from the car, then we can go out back and I’ll teach you all of her commands.”

Miles nodded. Cupcake was never far from his side, as he brought in her food, toys, bowls and bed. Long after Z had left him, Miles was still in awe of Cupcake, even as she slept, curled up by his side on the couch as he stroked her fur. The stress of the upcoming trail and endless loneliness until then seemed a little easier now with his dog by his side.

#spider socorro #miles spider socorro #cupcake the ikran #avatar zdog #avatar modern au #cabin in the woods #avatar fanfiction #my fanfic

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lenoraslament · 1 year ago

Text

Lenora’s Love: A Tom Riddle Fanfiction

Chapter 7: Strumpets

In which Lenora has to cover for our dark lord as he does dark things

Trigger warning: a teaspoon of smut, and voyeurism

The party wore on, Lenora couldn't stand another dance. The alcohol blurred her edges until she felt fuzzy. She kissed Liliths cheek and waved to everyone else as she sauntered up to bed.

She hadn't seen Tom downstairs in a while, it wasn't unlike him to steal away from a party in order to attend to less fun matters. For a moment in the hallway she stopped.

It dawned on her that she knew exactly the room he was staying in. She bit her lip for a moment. Why did she want to see him?

Then stole away until she was outside his room, she could hear noises from inside. Her hand pushed the door slightly, holding the knob to be as quiet as possible.

She peered inside. Delia was almost hard to recognize with her head upside down hanging off the bed. She was completely nude. Her lips parted as Tom sat up above her thrusting forcefully with her legs on his shoulders.

Lenora gasped realizing the sounds she had heard were moans.

Her small breasts jiggled with the motion, Tom held her legs to his chest brows knitted together. Nora raised her brows in curiosity at his naked body, sweat making his skin glow from effort.

Tom's head snapped up to see the door move and she ducked back into the hall.

"Who's there?" he called. She heard Delia's loud laugh. Tom put his hand over her mouth, "shut up, will you?".

Lenora nearly ran down the hall, bumping into Abraxas.

"Nora? What's wrong" he asked but she only shook her head walking quickly until the door was closed behind her. She sank to the floor trying to figure out why she was seething with jealousy.

"DELIA!?" She heard someone calling out a while later, "DELIA DARLING WHERE ARE YOU?"

Lenora ran to her window and saw a small gathering of parents looking around.

Suddenly she heard some people calling in the house on the first floor.

"DELIA?"

Lenora stood up and quickly walked to Tom's room and banged on the door.

He opened it shirtless, his dress slacks unbuttoned , "What is it now!?" He said angrily as the door flew open, stopping when he saw her.

"Oh..." he closed the door a little, blocking the entrance with his body.

"Need something?"

She tilted her head and wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"Yes. I need Delia" she snapped smartly, " everyone is looking for her".

His eyes widened. This had never happened to Tom before. Usually he had strict rules for not crossing hairs with any pure blood witches. His reputation needed to stay pristine. Lenora knew of his reputation but had never seen him get himself into a mess of this magnitude.

"I'll cover for you if-" she tried very hard not to look at his bare chest and abs.

"Yes?" He said smirking watching her eyes flick down his body for a moment.

"I want to be a knight" she whispered he looked genuinely surprised.

"DELIA" the calls were getting closer.

"Cover for me and we'll talk about it" he hissed.

Delia walked to the door, "is someone calling my name?" She asked in horror.

Lenora took her hand and marched her down the hall trying in vain to fix the back of Delia's hair.

"Sorry everyone!" She announced as they reached the bottom of the stairs , "I was feeling... ill and Delia was helping me. We lost track of time".

It was a flimsy lie but luckily she was amongst a sea of parents who were much drunker than she was.

Delia smiled, "I hope you feel better Lenora!" she said in a fake voice that made Nora cringe.

"Thanks soooo much girl" she whispered sloppily in Nora's ear giving her a hug.

"I didn't do it for you strumpet" she whispered back indignantly .

Nora walked back to her room in a haze, she closed the door behind her once again exhausted. She undid the strap on her dress letting it fall to the floor.

"So this is what you wanted?"a voice in the dark said. She screamed. Loud.

Tom who silenced the room ahead of time, just stared at her.

"If you're trying to extort sex out of me, the shrieking is not turning me on" he sat on her bed bemused.

"Not a chance Riddle!" she was very flustered, she could barely see his outline in the light from the window but she could tell he was just as she left him. Shirt off, slacks on.

"What are you doing here" she asked trying to regain control over the adrenaline surging through her body.

"I told you we'd talk" he said casually, "so you want to be a knight?"

She grinned, "yes I do, very much"

Tom nodded for a moment before turning back to her, "No," he said plainly.

"What!? Why?" She put her hands on her hips.

"Well for one, knights don't walk around in their underwear" he grinned. She looked down in horror as it dawned on her she had taken off her dress. She grabbed a silk robe from her chair and put it on in a huff.

"Why do you want to join Nora?"he asked," this isn't a social club, or a sewing circle"

"Exactly" she cried a little too impassioned, "I can't do it Tom".

"Do what?" He watched her intently

"What's expected of me!" Her cheeks flushed like they always did when she was fervent about something.

"I can't just be a wife. I can't sit and make small talk about social clubs and parties" she paced around the room as she ranted to him.

"I love magic. I am a strong witch. Who, is probably better at dueling and charms than everyone else you've recruited".

Tom stared trying not to swoon. This was the girl he fell in love with. The powerful, confident, snobby, gorgeous Lenora Rosier.

When she finished her speech she crossed the room standing in front of where he sat.

"Well? Tom, please".

Tom wanted to kiss her badly. Even though earlier he thought had satisfied his need, it wasn't enough. It would never be enough because what he needed was her.

An image ran across his mind as she looked at him so hungrily; Her almost permanently injuring Theo. Her crying hysterically in his dorm. Broken. In pain. Him declaring his love only to understand it would never be enough.

"No, Nora" he said and her face fell, "you may be a strong witch but that's not enough. We're not knights anymore, we're death eaters. This isn't for ladies".

Tom left her room and disappeared into the night.

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hellfiremunsonn · 2 years ago

Text

Stupid. Eddie Munson x Reader

Stupid

I do not allow my writing to be republished anywhere other than my own blog without my consent

Summary: Eddie accidentally calls his golden retriever/ditsy girlfriend stupid

(This fic has no smut. Younger audiences are able to read this without any explicit content. but I will still be marking and labeling my writing as 18+)

18 + IF YOU ARE NOT 18 OR OLDER DO NOT READ OR INTERACT WITH MY WRITING. IT IS NOT INTENDED FOR MINORS. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MEDIA YOU CONSUME.

Warnings: fem!reader, swearing, fluff, this is pretty tame, let me know if I missed anything.

Word count: 1369

Thursday afternoon rolled around faster than you thought it would. Spending most of your time outside with Eddie, picking a handful of small flowers until you had a satisfied bundle of them clutched into your fist, Eddies hand intertwined with your other hand, swinging them back and forth while you walked back to your house to get ready for Hellfire tonight.

Nerves rumbled through your belly so instead of packing up your overnight bag like you usually do- Staying at Eddies after Hellfire became one of your favourite routines. Today felt different, you were actually playing in the campaign Eddie prepared for everyone; usually tucked up in a chair next to Eddies drawing and colouring throughout the game. Eddie had felt bad bringing you with him every time and having you just sit next to him the whole time, so he made a whole campaign to include you.

You asked Eddie to pack your bag for you, knowing it would make you more nervous if you did it yourself. Laying on your bed, legs up the wall, calves pressed as closely as you could get them while being up, the skirt of your dress falling down to your tummy, your full legs bare and on display. The toes of your pink Mary Janes tapping against each other while you attempting to hold up a stuffed bear who was situated on the bottoms of your shoes.

"Baby where's your toothbrush?" Eddie asked coming out of the bathroom.

You stared at him upside down, your head almost hanging off the edge of your bed. "I dunno" You said with a shrug.

"What do you mean you don't know? Did you brush this morning?" He asked tilting his head to the side.

"Yep!"

"And you put your toothbrush somewhere else and forgot huh?" He said knowingly while coming over to give your forehead a quick kiss.

"I guess so" You said furrowing your brows. "Maybe the house goblins took it. You know like the ones in the book?"

"They are quite mischievous aren't they?" Eddie said returning his attention to your pink backpack.

You watched him fold your clothes delicately before tucking them into your bag. Frilly pink pyjamas, soft in contrast to Eddies dark and tough demeanour, a couple pair of undies, a change of clothes for tomorrow along with your sketchbook and glittery pencil case.

"Alright you're all set sweets, ready to head out?"

You frowned lightly but still sat up, letting the blood rush back down to the rest of your body before standing up. Taking eddies outstretched hand and following him back downstairs to his van.

The drive to your old high school was quick, just down the road from your own home, giving you not enough time to calm your nerves.

You twirled around the drama room humming to a song while Eddie began setting everything up. Copies of characters sheets, extra sets of dice, a sharpened pencil at each seat along with a few seats of lined paper just incase anyone needed to write anything down. He was always so diligent with everything he did, and constantly over prepared.

"You alright? You seem quiet" Eddie asked breaking you out of your thoughts.

"I'm nervous" you said honestly, never one to truly lie about your emotions. Eddie came over to you, hands encircling around your waist, warm and protective. He looked down at your concerned face, big doe eyes with thick lashes, a small pout forming on your lips.

"Whatcha nervous for?"

"What if they don't like me" biting your lip and avoiding his gaze.

"They know you already, they love you, you know that" He said reassuringly.

Your heart raced a little bit faster as you could hear the rest of the group coming loudly down the hall. Your words coming out in a rush. "B-but what if I mess somethin' up? What if they don't like playing with me"

Eddie rolled his eyes "Don't be stupid, you k-" You cut him off with a shove, squirming out of his arms and to the door of the room. Tears falling quickly down your eyes.

"Babe what happened?" Eddie said confused, following hot on your heels, reaching for your shoulder but you shrugged it off, flinging the classroom door open till it smacked the shelf on the other side, the uncomfortable looking teens on the other side of the door unsure of what to do as you brushed passed him with a hiccup. "Fucking shit" He mumbled, pushing past the gaggle of kids. "Just set up your shit guys, I'll be back" Eddie said with a rush, jogging to catch up to you shortly after you pushed through the school doors.

"Baby wait!" He reached for your wrist, holding it tightly to stop you from walking, tugging at it to turn you to face him. Your cheeks pink and splotchy from your tears, your lip wobbled when you looked at him. "Baby what's got you so upset"

You yanked roughly against his hand that held your wrist. "You!" You shouted. "Y-you called me stupid" You said with a choked, your other hand coming up to wipe at your nose.

Eddies tensed shoulders dropped, realization coming over him. Upset at himself for using the word towards you even if you didn't mean it the way so many other people did towards you.

"Baby, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that" His grip on your wrist loosening. Bringing his hands up to the base of your neck, thumbs on each sides of your cheeks while they attempted to brush away the rapidly falling tears. "I should have said 'silly' instead, I'm so sorry baby"

"M'not stupid Eds" you sniffled.

"I know my love, I know you're not stupid, you're one of the most brilliant people I've ever met I promise okay? I'm sorry" His eyes searched yours, hoping that you accept his apology. He felt so guilty he let the word slip, normally using any other word he could think of as a replacement.

"People think I'm stupid because I don't have a good memory, and I-I know I'm not always there in my own head, but it's cause I'm thinking about a million things at once!" You huffed.

"I know baby, you don't have to prove yourself to me, I know how smart you are, and what you're capable of, I've seen it, I've seen you" His eyes searching for yours once more. "Can I give you a hug please?"

You didn't give him time to wait, throwing your arms around his neck, burying your face into his shirt. He sighed in relief, his hands wrapping around your back tightly, pressing his nose into your hair, breathing in your cucumber and lavender shampoo.

After a few moments you leaned back to look at him, taking your thumb and wiping gently across his wet lashes. His own eyes watery, seconds away from guilt filled tears rolling down his cheeks, but you wouldn't allow it, seeing him cry would make you crumble.

"Could you ever forgive me?" He said with a small smile and you giggled, looking away from him and across the dark parking lot, noticing how long you had been out here.

"Course I can, but don't say it ever again okay?" Looking back up at him with those big eyes.

"Never" He said spotting your head with kisses. "Never" a kiss "Ever" a kiss "Ever!" he yelled the last one, his hands roaming down your sides, tickling at your waist until he had you doubled over with laughter, trying to wiggle out of his torturous hands.

"I surrender!" You yelled, holding your hands up, huffing out the words admit your giggles. "Truce?" You ask, holding your hand out.

"Truce" he agreed, taking your hand in his and pulling it to his lips to press the daintiest of kissed to the back of your hand.

The doors of the school creaked open and an awkward looking Mike peaked out with a wave. "Uh, just coming to see if everything was good, and uh" he scratched the back of his head. "If you guys were coming back"

"We'll be right in Wheeler" Eddie said giving him a salute before leaning down to envelop your lips with his.

#Eddie Munson #Stranger Things #Eddie Munson Stranger Things #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x fem!reader #Eddie Munson x femreader #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson x (y/n)#Eddie Munson imagine #Eddie Munson fluff #Stranger Things imagine #Stranger Things fluff #Eddie Munson smut #Stranger Things smut #hellfiremunsonn

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nerdallwritey · 1 month ago

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Wip Whursday!

It's been a million years since I've posted a snippet of what I've been writing and I thank you all for your patience with me! Part 7 of Beauty and the Bard is coming along, but it's a bit slow going due to unforeseen circumstances (I'm fine! There's just A LOT going on atm).

Thank you so much to @obsessedwhyyes, @xxnashiraxx, @busy-baker, @khywren, @vividiana, @verbenaa, and anyone else I may have missed who's tagged me, please continue to do so! I love being tagged and seeing what you're writing, it's just taking me a while to get to everything 😅 BUT I LOVE YOU ALL! THANK YOU!

Without further ado, here's how Part 7 starts. It's pretty silly so please enjoy!

You awoke to an empty bed. Drearily and with a tired moan, your arm flung out to search blindly in the dark, trying to make sense of your surroundings. Slowly, it came back to you - you’d made it to an inn in the Shadow Cursed Lands. You’d shared a passionate night with Astarion. Perhaps the vampire whose arms you were sure you’d fallen asleep in had rolled off the bed in the night? You inched your body to the edge of the bed, hanging your head over the side and blinking rapidly to get your eyes to adjust to the darkness. Nope. No trancing elf. Just a loose floorboard from the night before. You flopped dramatically onto your back, staring up at the ceiling. Couldn’t vampires technically hang from ceilings? Was it possible Astarion had somehow sleep… vampired? And somehow found himself snoozing upside down on the ceiling? No, that was stupid, of course he wasn’t on the ceiling. Though you did squint and stare above you for longer than you would ever admit to anyone. Exhaling quietly, you sat up on your arms to scan the rest of the room before your eyes landed on a silhouette hunched in front of the drawn curtains of the room’s large window. Astarion was muttering quietly, his arm bent behind his back. “I… F… or is it an E? Is it even a letter?” You heard him sigh and saw his frame straighten fractionally. “What damn language is this?” You half smiled affectionately, sitting up fully against the pillows. “Need some help writing a sonnet, Volo?” You swung your legs over the side of the bed and turned to face him. Astarion jumped. “Ah!” You heard a loud crash as you saw his darkened form trip backwards over your discarded backpack. “Astarion!” you cried, springing up from the bed and joining him on the ground. “Are you alright?” You brushed your knuckles over his cheek as he groaned lowly. His eyes were shut tight in mild pain, but they opened after a moment to blink up at you. When he saw the concerned look on your face, he sat up quickly and backed away from you until his back made contact with your overturned backpack. You frowned. “What’s wrong?” Astarion smiled awkwardly. “Oh nothing, darling.” After a second, he said your name softly. You narrowed your eyes and stood up, striking a match and lighting the candle on the table parallel to the bed. “I don’t believe you.”

NO PRESSURE TAGGING: @arzen9, @astarioffsimpmain, @atsadi-shenanigans, @davenswitcher, @pinkberrytea, and @hellethil if you guys have anything to share! Sorry if you've already been tagged this week!

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ghosttotheparty · 2 years ago

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everything you need, anything you want

also on AO3 based on this post

So eighty-six wasn’t his year.

It’s not like Eddie’s never been wrong before.

He lives in the Harrington home. After the “earthquakes,” Steve’s parents move to Norfolk. They leave Steve in Hawkins. Not that he would have gone with them anyway, but an offer would have been nice.

They leave him the house. And enough money to get by. His mother leaves him a kiss on the cheek. He wipes it off when she’s gone.

Eddie stays in the guest room.

Steve’s parents’ old room remains empty, save for a bare mattress, a bed frame, two dressers and his mother’s vanity. Steve contemplates taking it all out back and having a bonfire.

When they found Eddie in the Upside Down, cowering in the shadows, no one thought he was real. Eddie didn’t think they were real either, after all the tricks the Upside Down has played on him. Robin said his name.

He hadn’t used his voice except to scream in the past year, so it was rough and scratchy and dry when he spoke.

You’re real?

They were.

Solid and breathing when they embraced him, and then he was crying, and for some reason it was Steve on the ground with him, his arms around Eddie tightly.

He’d been whispering to Eddie.

I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Eddie, I’m here now, I got you.

As if he’d known at all how much of Eddie’s mind he’d occupied the whole time he struggled to survive. As if he’d known that he was what kept Eddie warm at night. (Or, what Eddie assumes was night. Time seems to move differently in the Upside Down. Simultaneously slower and faster, five years passing in an hour, twenty minutes in three weeks.)

The reunion had to be put on pause. They’ve all gotten too good at stopping their emotions, at shifting gears at the blink of an eye.

It resumed in Steve’s house, late at night, after they’d all nursed their wounds and drank some water and showered off the Upside Down.

Eddie sat on the coffee table. He was wearing Steve’s clothes now, his own too ripped and worn and disgusting. (He threw them into a bag after dressing and told Steve to burn it all. Steve swore he would.) Steve’s sweatpants were warm, soft, and his hoodie was too big, the sleeves hanging down over Eddie’s hands. His hair was wet and cold against his skin, but he couldn’t remember the last time he felt so at ease in his own body.

Except that everyone was staring at him like he was about to explode at any given second. Except Steve. Who looked like he was about to burst into tears.

Dustin spoke first.

You died. I— I watched you die, I heard you stop breathing.

Eddie gripped the ends of the hoodie sleeves tightly.

I know.

Did you not? Robin had asked weakly, like she was going to be sick. Did we just…

No, I did.

He did.

He doesn’t know how he knows, but he knows.

I died, but then I just…

All their eyes were wide. Confused. Sitting in an awful fucking silence that made Eddie want to rip his skin off.

I’m not the same. As I was. There’s something… Off about me.

What is it? Nancy asked. Her voice was quiet, almost just a breath but still audible in the silence.

He had squeezed his eyes shut, his legs drawn to his chest. How the fuck was he supposed to explain it? That he wasn’t quite human anymore? That he could smell all their blood, and then he wanted to consume it? That he was fucking starving?

He just shook his head, shivering, letting his head fall to his knees, and then Steve was touching him, sliding his hand over Eddie’s back in front of everything. Eddie could feel the heat of his skin through the hoodie. He spoke to the floor without lifting his head.

I’m a fucking vampire or something.

And the room was silent, until Nancy spoke again.

Explain?

So he explained.

It’s all fucking insane, but Eddie guesses in the grand scheme of things nothing is fucking insane anymore.

Steve stayed close to him the whole time, his hand on Eddie’s back, and after a while, Eddie reached for his other hand, taking it as he spoke. No one said anything about the way he held it for the rest of the time they were in the living room, playing with Steve’s fingers as he talked about the place he already knew he’d have nightmares about.

He stayed in Steve’s room that night. Neither of them said anything as they found their way toward each other, as Eddie held onto Steve’s arm, as Steve slowly pulled away so he could wrap his arm around Eddie, pull him against his chest.

I’m sorry, Eddie. I—I wanted to bring you back, but— but the gate was—

I know, Steve. ‘S okay.

It was probably better that he didn’t wake up in some morgue in town or something. Better that no one else (especially Steve) had to witness him discover that he’s not human, had to witness him learn how to kill creatures just to drink the blood from their still-warm bodies.

He woke up the next morning with his head on Steve’s chest. He could hear his heartbeat. Steve was playing with his hair, combing through his hair and untangling his curls gently. Eddie could hear some noise downstairs, clattering in the kitchen, steps in the hallway. And it was warm.

It was so, so warm.

There were tears on his skin before he even processed his eyes burning. He squeezes his eyes shut, turning his face into Steve’s chest, and tried not to cry, but Steve could feel him shaking, could hear his soft breaths, and Steve slowly sat up, holding Eddie to himself.

It’s okay.

Eddie clutched at him. Gripped his shirt in tight fists, hid his face in his neck.

He sobbed.

Steve was crying too, his arms tight and firm around Eddie, listening and understand him even though his voice was cracking and weak.

It was so cold, Stevie, it was so— it was so cold.

You don’t have to be cold anymore, Eddie.

The sun was shining brightly in Steve’s room. Eddie could feel it on his skin. He’d missed the sun.

They spent almost the whole morning in bed, even though they can hear the others downstairs. Steve kept his arms around Eddie the whole time, until they both stopped crying, until Eddie just sat next to him, leaning against him. Eddie looks at home. Gazed at him. The sunlight hit his eyes in a way that made them glow, and his hair in a way that made strands of it look like golden thread. His eyelashes were clumped together with tears, and Eddie remembered why he always thought Steve had princess eyes.

Steve’s hair was longer than it was when Eddie died. Overgrown carelessly and pushed back, and Eddie’s eyes got caught before he reached up and pushed it up from where it had fallen over his ears. The side of his head was shaved.

Eddie’s eyes widened, and Steve was laughing even before Eddie was sitting up and manhandling Steve’s head to check the other side.

You cut your hair?

Yeah, I… I wanted something different.

…It suits you.

You think?

Eddie nodded. Ran a hand under the overgrown hair and over the shaved part, watched as Steve tilted his head up into the touch. They were quiet for a moment before Steve spoke again.

When my parents left, I… I kinda started acting out. They always cared about keeping appearances, so I… I don’t know. Kinda weird to have a rebellious phase at twenty one.

Is that why your walls look like Polluck paintings and the rest of house looks like a museum?

Robin helped.

I assumed.

Eddie had continued petting his hair. Steve had seemed to like it.

What else?

I, uhm. …You’re gonna laugh.

I won’t laugh.

Even if you say you won’t, you’re gonna.

Okay, I might, doesn’t matter. Tell me.

I… I started listening to, like. Metal and stuff.

Eddie laughed. Steve hit his chest.

How’d that happen?

…I missed you.

That had hurt.

Eddie exhaled and his hand fell from where it was pressed into Steve’s hair, falling to rest on his neck. He could feel Steve’s pulse. He wanted to sink his teeth into it. He ignored the desire.

I, uhm… I remembered you mentioned Ozzy, so I went to a music store and asked about it, and…

You like it?

It keeps my head quiet.

Steve had directed him to the other side of his room, where his tapes and records were. Eddie looked through them while Steve watched. Ozzy, Metallica, Dio, Motörhead, Twisted Sister. Eddie’s face had hurt. He hadn’t smiled in a long time.

I kept your vest.

You did?

Yeah. Wore it sometimes when I missed you more than usual.

Eddie wanted to cry again.

Got some t-shirts and shit you might like.

Can I look?

‘Course.

Eddie looked. Carefully rifled through Steve’s shirt drawer. Looked at the worn, probably second-hand t-shirts. Grinned at the Judas Priest shirt and the AC/DC shirt.

You’re a regular punk, aren’t you, Stevie?

Maybe a little. …Maybe more than a little.

What’s that mean?

Steve paused, his cheeks flushing prettily as he shrugged. Eddie just raised his eyebrows, and Steve stared, his jaw working for a moment before he opened his mouth to reveal a metal stud at the centre of his tongue.

Eddie let out a loud What? and rushed across the room to see, dropping the AC/DC shirt, and Steve laughed. Eddie landed on the bed next to him, on his knees, and grabbed Steve’s chin.

Open up. Let me see.

He repressed the urge to tell him what a good boy he was when Steve immediately followed directions. The stud was black, shining. Eddie wanted to touch it. He wanted to spit on it.

Did it hurt?

They shoved a needle through my tongue, Eddie. Yeah, it hurt.

Alright, attitude. Very metal, Stevie.

Thanks.

So that was that.

Neither of them are the same anymore. Eddie’s teeth are a little sharper, his skin a little colder. Steve is a little more rough around the edges.

They figure everything out. It takes some time, but everything gets sorted. The fridge in the garage is stocked with blood at all times for nights that Eddie can’t go out and catch squirrels or deer. They sleep in separate rooms, but immediately find each other in the morning. Eddie leans on Steve’s back while Steve makes coffee in the kitchen. They sit with their legs locked between them under the table. Steve puts his hand on Eddie’s leg while they watch TV or movies together.

Eddie always ends up pulling Steve against himself. Steve always ends up falling asleep.

Steve doesn’t sleep often.

Eddie knows he doesn’t sleep much at night. He doesn’t either, plagued by nights and memories, staring at the ceiling in the dim light of a lamp that sits on the floor.

Steve leaves his bathroom light on night. When Eddie leaves his room to get water he can see the glow of it under Steve’s door, and he wonders what he thinks about late at night. If he stares at the the ceiling like Eddie does. If he sleeps with his blankets wrapped around him tightly. If he gets cold too.

•••••••••••••••Eddie rolls onto his side and pulls his blanket around him tighter. All of his bedding smells like the rest of the house, almost like Steve but not quite. (Steve smells better.)

Eddie hates nighttime. He likes that it’s quiet, that it’s calm, that nothing is really expected of him, but it’s too dark. Darkness is suffocating. Even with a lamp on.

He looks across the room when there’s a shuffle in the hall, looking over his shoulder. He holds his breath.

After a few moments there’s a soft knock on his door.

“Steve?” Eddie says quietly, and the door opens slowly. Steve is still holding the doorknob, his eyes shining, and he looks so tiny it makes Eddie ache. “What’s wrong?”

“I…” Steve pauses, blinking at him and taking a breath. He’s wearing a Judas Priest shirt and some shorts, his hair tousled, looking sleepy and pretty. He also looks like he’s going to cry, which Eddie hates, but can’t deny that it also looks pretty. “Are you okay?”

Eddie blinks at him.

“I’m fine,” he says quietly. “Are you? What’s happening?”

Steve continues to stare at him, his eyes tracing him almost desperately.

“I just— I had…”

He’s breathing hard, like he’s been running.

“You had a nightmare?” Eddie asks softly. Steve nods. Eddie pauses, looking at the anxious shine of his eyes, at the way his hands are trembling. “You wanna come over here?”

Steve just steps inside and shuts the door wordlessly, using both hands to make it quiet, like they’re keeping it a secret from the rest of the house. (Which feels like it’s watching them sometimes, if Eddie is honest.)

He sits on the edge of Eddie’s bed, facing the wall, his eyes blankly tracing the posters pinned to the wall. Eddie moves closer to him, watching his chest rise and fall quickly.

“Steve,” he says, sitting cross-legged, facing him. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“You were gone,” Steve says quietly, his voice breathy and rough. “We— We were in the Upside Down, and we found—“ he cuts off, taking a small gasp, and Eddie leans closer, placing his hand on Steve’s back gently. Steve squeezes his eyes shut, his breath stuttering in his chest. “We found your body.”

“Steve,” Eddie breathes, running his hand over his back, catching the folds of the thin fabric of his shirt. “I’m right here.”

Steve squeezes his eyes shut, and Eddie’s chest clenches. He moves closer, carefully pushing his hand up Steve’s neck into his hair to run over the shaved part, furrowing his brows with Steve takes a gasping, stuttering breath.

“Hey,” Eddie says softly. “Stevie.” Steve opens his eyes, his expression so pained it makes Eddie’s bones ache. “I’m okay, sweetheart.”

“You died, Eddie,” Steve says weakly. “You were dead, you…”

“I’m alive, Stevie,” Eddie whispers, running his fingers through his hair. Steve just whines, his eyes closing as tears fall. “Hey, I got a heartbeat,” Eddie says quietly. Steve’s eyes open. “You wanna feel it?”

Steve takes a breath, turning to look at him, and he nods.

“Come here, gimme your hand.” He takes Steve’s trembling hand, pulls it toward himself so Steve shifts to face him, and presses it to his own chest, his fingers holding Steve’s hand tightly. He takes a deep breath, and Steve’s eyes watch his chest rise and fall.

“You feel it?” Eddie asks softly after a few moments, when Steve’s breath has slowed, and Steve’s hand presses harder, his lips pursing as he frowns, almost pouting, and Eddie tilts his head fondly, almost smiling. Steve’s hand slides up after a moment, over the collar of Eddie’s sweater, until it’s sliding over Eddie’s neck.

Eddie’s breath catches in his throat when Steve’s fingers wrap around it, his fingertips pressing into his skin tightly. Steve is still panting, his eyelids fluttering. It takes a moment for Eddie to realise Steve’s fingers are pressing into his pulse.

Steve nods, closing his eyes, breathless.

“I feel it.”

Eddie nods. He can’t breathe. Steve’s hand is hot against Eddie’s skin, holding him tightly.

“I’m okay, Stevie,” Eddie murmurs, sliding his hand to rest on the side of Steve’s neck. Steve exhales shakily, his fingers tightening, and Eddie thinks he might pass out. His lips part, and his eyes flutter closed before he reaches for Steve’s wrist.

“Steve, you gotta stop.”

Steve’s eyes open and he looks up at Eddie, hurt snd worry shining in his eyes.

“‘S just—“ Eddie tries to fix, squeezing his wrist. “It— This… feels good.”

Steve’s eyes are glazed over, and his fingers shift. He doesn’t let go. His voice is slurred when he speaks.

“If it feels good, why would I stop?”

Eddie’s mouth goes dry.

“Just…” He squeezes Steve’s wrist again, tugs it away. “You had a nightmare, Stevie, you need…”

“Need this,” Steve mumbles, twisting his hand to hold Eddie’s. “Please, Eddie.”

Eddie’s eyes flick back and forth between Steve’s, like he’s trying to see into him.

“I just—“ Steve cuts off, his eyelashes fluttering as his eyes shine with unshed tears again. “I just wanna feel your heartbeat, Eddie, please.”

“Okay,” Eddie breathes. Steve exhales as if in relief, his hand finding Eddie’s neck again, and Eddie wants to cry. “C’mere.”

Steve crawls closer, moving so he can lay against Eddie heavily, taking a shuddering breath.

“I got you,” Eddie murmurs softly, wrapping an arm around him and laying down, pulling Steve with him so he lands on top of Eddie, his head on Eddie’s shoulder. Steve giggles softly, his hand tightening on Eddie’s neck, and Eddie exhales sharply, closing his eyes.

“Are you still gonna be here in the morning?” Steve’s voice says quietly.

Eddie pulls him in tighter. He could be sarcastic. That they’re in his room, that he doesn’t have anywhere else to go. But Steve’s voice is so soft, so small and vulnerable, that he can’t.

“Of course.”

•••••••••••••••The others notice it too, that Steve isn’t entirely okay.

Steve insists he’s fine, that everything is under control.

Eddie does what he can to help, cooks and cleans and does everything he can to make sure Steve can relax at home, but it doesn’t really seem to help at all. Steve is always tense, fidgeting anxiously, picking at his skin and lips and nails until he’s bleeding. Eddie reaches over to take his hand, holding it gently to stop him.

Even Robin does it, laying across his lap and holding his hands in her own while they talk.

Eddie’s heart hurts. The skin around some of Steve’s nails is red and raw, his lips cracked.

“I’m just saying, Steve, maybe you should take a break,” Nancy says, watching him cross the room. He’s chewing on a nail, looking at her.

“From what?”

“Steve,” Eddie says softly. Steve shrugs at him, and Jonathan lowers his head to his knees. “Come on—“ He cuts off with a soft breath, stopping himself from saying sweetheart in front of everyone. Argyle looks at him. He can probably tell.

“You just gotta relax, man,” Argyle says, looking away from Eddie. “Smoke some weed or something.”

“I can’t walk around high twenty four-seven,” Steve says, frustrated. “I have— responsibilities, I gotta— I gotta take care of the kids, I’m…”

“Stevie,” Robin says, sitting up from where she’s laying on Eddie’s lap. “We don’t mean to move to Florida or something permanently, just… relax.”

“I’ve tried,” Steve says adamantly. He’s pacing. “I’ve— I’ve smoked, I’ve tried fucking reading books, and listening to music, and I’m—“ Steve cuts off, tossing his hands.

“I can try something,” Eddie says before he can even think, and everyone looks at him. His face burns.

“What?” Steve asks quietly, biting his nail again.

“I…” He looks up at Steve from the sofa, ignoring the others’ stares, and he takes a deep breath. “It’s gonna sound fucked, but there’s… this thing I do when I hunt, that’s…” Steve is staring at him intensely, his eyes shining. “It’s like putting them in a trance, it… calms them down.”

“Like hypnotising them?” Nancy says, and Eddie looks at her. Steve keeps staring at Eddie.

“I guess, but it’s—“ He rubs his cheek anxiously. “It doesn’t have to be weird. It just calms them down so they don’t run away, and it kinda makes me feel better because they’re not scared when they die, but, I mean… Obviously I’m not gonna kill you,” he adds, looking at Steve again, who stares. “But it might… help.”

“Okay.”

Eddie blinks.

“Okay?”

“Yes,” Steve says almost breathlessly. Eddie’s eyes look back and forth between Steve’s. “Please.”

“…Okay,” Eddie says softly. “Uhm.”

He stands slowly, standing in front of Steve, his cheeks hot as everyone stares. Steve’s hand lowers from his mouth, and he looks at Eddie anxiously. He looks the same way he looked when he spent the night with Eddie: small and vulnerable and scared, and Eddie’s chest hurts.

“If you… change your mind,” Eddie says softly. “Tell me. Okay?”

“Okay,” Steve breathes.

“Okay.”

Eddie takes a deep breath.

“…Relax, Steve.”

Steve’s eyes flutter shut, and his shoulders slump, and then he’s falling.

“Woah.” Eddie catches him as the others shout, and he falls to his knees, holding Steve, looking at his face desperately. “Steve?”

“Oh my god,” Nancy says, standing as Argyle sits up.

Steve exhales heavily, his head rolling as Eddie tugs him carefully into his lap. Robin kneels next to Steve, touching his face worriedly, saying his name.

“Stevie?” Eddie says softly as Nancy and Jonathan look over his shoulder.

“‘M fine,” Steve mumbles without opening his eyes.

“Steve,” Eddie says, finding his hand and holding it. “Can you open your eyes?”

Steve lets out a soft noise that makes Eddie’s breath catch in his throat.

“Steve, open your eyes.”

Steve’s eyes open, and it takes a moment for them to find Eddie above him. They’re glassy and glazed over.

“You okay?” Eddie asks softly.

“Yeah,” Steve breathes. “Feel good.”

“I feel like we shouldn’t be here anymore,” Robin says quietly, looking up at Nancy, who frowns with a soft, “Yeah.”

“Yeah,” Argyle agrees. “He’s, like, super vulnerable right now.”

“Yeah, we should go,” Jonathan says when Steve blinks blearily up at Eddie, his fingers shifting on Eddie’s.

“Okay,” Eddie says softly, gazing down at him. Robin gets up and leans down to rustle Eddie’s hair affectionately.

“Take care of him, Eds.”

“‘Course.”

They all leave quietly, Jonathan and Argyle patting Eddie’s back gently as they pass.

“You feel okay, Stevie?” Eddie murmurs when they’re gone. Steve hums a soft mhmm. “Use your words, honey.”

Steve swallows, taking a breath, looking at Eddie with glassy eyes.

“I feel okay.”

“Yeah?”

“I feel so okay.”

Eddie smiles softly, letting go of Steve’s hand and reaching to gently push his hair back.

Steve’s eyes close again, and he’s smiling, his face more relaxed than Eddie’s ever seen him. He traces his fingertips over Steve’s face, over his eyebrows and cheekbones and jawline and the bridge of his nose and his lips. Steve’s lips part as Eddie’s fingertip is trailing over them, and Eddie scoffs, moving to hold his chin.

“You wanna stay here for a while?”

“Please.”

“Can I lay down with you?”

“Mm.”

Eddie moves, letting Steve lift his head off his lap so he can shift to lay on the floor next to him, his arm bent under his head.

“Hi.”

Steve just exhales, blinking at him, smiling softly.

“‘S it okay if I touch you?” Steve lets out a short hum. “Words, sweetheart.”

“Touch me,” Steve breathes. “Please.”

“I got you,” Eddie whispers, moving closer. He reaches out and touches Steve’s face again, watching his eyes flutter shut as he trails his fingertips over his cheek. “Pretty boy.”

He waits for a moment, pushing Steve’s hair back, petting the shaved part gently.

“Can you tell me how you’re feeling?”

Steve doesn’t say anything, just exhaling and tilting his head so it presses into Eddie’s hand.

“Steve,” Eddie says softly, hesitating. “Tell me how you’re feeling.”

“So good,” Steve says softly. “‘S so quiet.”

“What is?”

“…My head.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm.” It almost sounds like a moan. “Wanna stay here.”

“Where?” Eddie whispers.

“The clouds.”

Eddie can’t fight his smile, and he carefully drags his nails over Steve’s skin, watching Steve shiver.

“You can stay here for a while.”

Steve closes his eyes.

Eddie can tell that he’s not asleep. He knows what Steve’s breathing sounds like when he’s sleeping, which maybe could be weird, but he doesn’t worry about it.

He keeps trailing his fingers over his hair lightly, gazing at him, tracing his moles with his eyes like he’s stargazing.

He lets him float. Waits for him.

Until Steve sighs, and slowly opens his eyes, blinking at Eddie like he’s waking up.

“Welcome back,” Eddie says quietly.

“Sorry,” Steve says.

“Don’t apologize,” Eddie whispers. “Was it nice?”

“Yes,” Steve says without hesitation. “I liked it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.” Steve looks like he might cry.

“We can do it again sometime.”

“Can we?”

“Yeah, Stevie.”

“Okay.” He’s quiet for a moment. “Where are the others?”

“They left a little while ago,” Eddie says quietly. “Wanted to give you some privacy.”

“Oh.”

Steve closes his eyes again. Presses his hand up against Eddie’s, holding it to himself.

“Are you comfortable here?” Eddie asks softly. “The floor isn’t too bad?”

“No, ‘s fine.”

“You wanna…” Eddie pauses. “You wanna come closer?”

Steve smiles, and he moves closer, sighing as Eddie lifts his arm to set around him. He tucks his face into Eddie’s neck, and Eddie almost shivers when he feels Steve’s breath on his skin.

“Thank you,” Steve murmurs. “Thank you, Eddie.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

“Like it when you call me that.”

“‘S good, I like calling you that.”

Steve nuzzles into his neck, his hands tucking against Eddie’s chest.

•••••••••••••••They talk about it the next day. Eddie asks if it was okay. If he took anything too far, if Steve was uncomfortable with anything. Steve just smiles. And hugs him.

Tell him that it was perfect, Eds.

They don’t talk about it again.

They don’t really need to.

The others seem to just pick up on it, how something has shifted between them, without anyone saying anything about it. Steve sits closer to Eddie than he used to, leans against him and holds his hand wordlessly, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. The others all see it. Eddie’s face flushes with heat every time.

He’s started kissing him. His cheeks, his forehead, the top of his head, every time Steve floats away, every time he rests against Eddie and hides his face in Eddie’s neck. It makes Steve smile. The first time Eddie does it, he tucks Steve’s hair back and presses his lips to his cheek, just under his eye, and Steve’s face turns pink even though his eyes are glazed over and he’s swaying.

So Eddie does it every chance he gets. Of course.

He’s not sure what they are.

Eddie’s never even come out to him, and Steve’s never mentioned liking men, but somehow Eddie doesn’t worry about it.

They sleep together more often than not, usually in Steve’s room. Eddie steals Steve’s clothes to wear during the day while he’s gone, and Steve sleeps in Eddie’s t-shirts and sweaters. He leans against Eddie’s back while Eddie plays guitar, humming along, listening.

It seems to get easier for Steve.

It makes Eddie happy, getting to see him relax, getting to see him smile and sigh and laugh at Eddie’s stupid jokes and puns. He still has days, days where he just comes home and curls up on the sofa, hiding his face and staying silent when Eddie tries to talk to him. And he has other days where he comes home and just won’t stop, cleaning and cooking and rambling until Eddie stops him.

Sometimes while he’s floating he holds Eddie’s neck, feeling his heartbeat. It’s nice.

•••••••••••••••“Hey, sweetheart.”

Steve just responds w a soft groan, falling against Eddie’s back. Eddie laughs lightly, looking over his shoulder, pausing with the dishes.

“Long day?”

“Yeah.”

“Wanna tell me about it?”

Steve is quiet for a moment before he sighs, and his arms wrap around Eddie’s torso. It makes Eddie’s cheeks heat up.

“Scars have been hurting all day.” He presses his face to Eddie’s shoulder, squeezes, squishing his cheek and muffling his voice. “‘Nd my head hurt for a while at work, ‘n just… nothing was working for me. ‘M tired.”

Eddie finishes with the dishes, leaving a pot full of water so he doesn’t jostle Steve while he cleans it, and he shuts the water off, reaching for the dish towel and drying his hands before he turns around.

Steve hugs him before he can say anything, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s neck and pulling him close, and Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, hugging him back tightly. Steve slumps against him. Eddie kisses his temple.

“Alright?”

“Can you put me under?” Steve asks softly, lifting his head.

Eddie kisses his cheek.

“‘Course. Want you to eat some dinner first, though.”

“Okay.”

They eat together at the table, D&D materials pushed out of the way for their plates. Steve tells him more about his day. Eddie admires him across the table. He sits with his legs crossed on his chair, leaning over them so he doesn’t spill anything. (Steve once said he was never allowed to sit like this as a kid.)

Steve changes while Eddie finishes cleaning up. He wants to help, but Eddie refuses to let him.

“How do you wanna do it?” Eddie asks when he’s finished, when Steve is back, wearing a pair of cut-off shorts and a Sabbath shirt that Eddie thinks might be his.

“Wanna sit on your lap,” Steve says, his voice already a little slurred. Eddie grins.

“Sofa?”

“Mm.”

Eddie leads him to the living room, their fingers hooked together. Steve gently pushes Eddie to the sofa, and Eddie looks up at him, smiling, but Steve doesn’t sit across his lap the way Eddie expects. Instead, he lowers himself to Eddie’s lap with his knees on either side of his hips. Eddie’s cheeks flush with heat.

“Hi,” Eddie says softly as Steve settles, setting his hands on Steve’s hips gently.

“Hi.”

“This okay?”

Steve’s hands find their places on Eddie’s shoulders, holding him.

“…Take a deep breath for me..” Steve’s eyes flutter shut for a moment as he inhales, his hands loosening on Eddie’s shoulders. “Good boy, one more.”

Steve smiles as he does it again, his cheeks pink.

“There you go,” Eddie murmurs, his thumbs brushing back and forth over his hips. “Do your scars still hurt?”

There’s a moment before Steve shakes his head.

“Your head?”

Another shake.

“Everything’s okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve murmurs, his eyes half shut. “I feel good.”

Eddie smiles, tilting his head so he can press a kiss to Steve’s wrist.

“Can I do something?” Steve asks quietly, his eyes glazed.

“Anything.”

Steve smiles softly, his hand sliding from Eddie’s shoulder to his neck, where his fingers wrap gently around his throat. Eddie inhales, his head falling back. Steve’s smile grows, and his fingers tighten.

Eddie’s hands grip Steve’s hips, his eyes locked with Steve’s, and Steve releases him, watching him intently.

“Does that feel good?” he asks quietly, his voice soft.

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes. “It feels good.”

Steve smiles brightly, his fingers tightening again. Eddie exhales sharply, smiling.

“Thought I was supposed to be putting you under,” he mutters. Steve giggles, shifting closer, his fingers loosening, and Eddie bites his lip as heat flushes his cheeks. “What are you smiling at?”

“I can feel your heartbeat.”

“Ah.” He swallows, feeling Steve’s fingers press and rub at his neck. “So you know I’m dying.”

Steve just grins lazily at him, tilting his head almost curiously, his fingers lifting to trace Eddie’s jaw lightly. Eddie slides his hands up his waist, catching the thin fabric of Steve’s (Eddie’s? Their wardrobes are starting to combine.) shirt, and Steve hums.

“Alright?” Eddie asks softly. Steve nods, his eyes closing.

“Your hands feel…”

Eddie hums questioningly, squeezing gently as Steve puts his hand back on his throat, his other hand holding the side of his neck lightly, his fingertips in Eddie’s hair.

“Good.”

He squeezes, and Eddie’s breath catches in his throat. He closes his eyes.

He can hear his own heart pounding, can hear Steve’s soft breaths. Steve is heavy on his lap, his weight almost grounding as Eddie’s head fills with clouds. A soft noise escapes Eddie, a weak choked off moan, and Steve giggles again.

And then he’s kissing him, and Eddie thinks he might die.

He doesn’t even open his eyes, just exhales and reaches up to push his fingers into Steve’s soft hair. His head tilts, and his other hand tightens on Steve’s waist, but just as his lips begin to part, Steve pulls away sharply.

Eddie’s eyes flutter open, and he looks up at him to find him wide-eyed and red-faced.

“‘S wrong?” Eddie asks softly, his hand shifting to Steve’s cheek.

“I’m sorry,” Steve says, his voice heavy. “I didn’t ask, I—“

“It’s okay,” Eddie says, shaking his head. “You don’t have to ask, it’s okay.”

Steve blinks at him, looking like he might cry, and Eddie’s chest tightens.

“You can kiss me,” he breathes. “If you want.”

“I can?” Steve asks in a small voice. Eddie nods, smiling.

Steve stares, his eyes flicking back and forth between Eddie’s, and Eddie exhales, leaning up and lifting his chin to kiss him softly. Steve’s breath stutters in his chest, and Eddie holds his face, pulling him closer.

Steve’s arms wrap around Eddie’s neck, and he raises up on his knees as he kisses back desperately, and Eddie’s whole body aches. Eddie’s lips part as he grins, and Steve’s tongue slides between them, tracing his teeth. Eddie clutches at him, his hands gripping his t-shirt and his hips before they find his thighs, squeezing and slipping under the hem of his shorts.

Steve pulls away for a gasp of air, tilting his head and kissing him again so hard their teeth clash. Eddie’s brows furrow, and he sits up straight, his head falling back.

Steve lowers back down to Eddie’s lap, and one of Eddie’s hands slides to the small of his back, tugging him closer as Steve’s teeth catch Eddie’s lip. A whimper escapes Eddie, and his face burns.

One of Steve’s hands slides into Eddie’s hair, gripping it like he’s holding Eddie in place, and Eddie exhales sharply, his jaw dropping enough for Steve to lick into his mouth.

“Oh, shit,” Eddie gasps. His voice is embarrassingly high, breathy and soft, and Steve pulls away. His eyes are shining, his lips red.

“What?”

“I, uhm.” Eddie closes his eyes, breathing hard. “I forgot about your piercing.”

“Oh.” Steve pauses, holding Eddie’s head in his hands. “Should I take it out?”

“No,” Eddie says quickly. “No, don’t, it’s… It’s nice.”

“Oh,” Steve says again. “Okay.”

“Come here.”

Steve kisses him again, catching Eddie’s lip between his own for a moment before he pulls away and looks at him. Eddie encourages him with a gentle tug at his back, and Steve leans back down again.

Eddie relaxes against the sofa when Steve’s hand finds his neck again. He isn’t squeezing, isn’t choking, just holding him almost mindlessly, like it’s where his hand belongs.

Eddie’s brows furrow again, listening to the soft sounds of Steve sucking on his lip, the soft sounds that escape Steve’s throat. He’s almost shivering, chills hovering over his skin like there’s static in the air, and he’s breathing so hard he might start hyperventilating.

“Stevie,” he chokes when Steve releases his lip. (It’s sore. Eddie loves it.) Steve just whines in response, squeezing his neck gently. “I…” He stares, his eyes burning as he looks at Steve’s flushed cheeks, his shiny lips.

“Eddie, please,” Steve chokes, taking short, stuttering breathes. His eyes are glistening with unshed tears.

“‘S okay,” Eddie breathes, lifting a hand to Steve’s head, pushing his fingers into his hair. “I got you.”

“Please,” Steve whimpers. “Please, please, Eddie, please, I—“

“C’mere,” Eddie mutters, pulling him down and kissing him desperately, biting his lip. “It’s okay, baby, I got you.”

“Please—“ Steve whimpers, his fingers tightening on Eddie’s neck, and Eddie gasps. “Please, I need—“

“Take it,” Eddie says breathlessly, squeezing his leg and letting his head fall back as Steve leans close enough that Eddie is swallowing his breath. “Take what you need, baby, it’s okay.”

He expects Steve to start rolling his hips, or to tear his or Eddie’s shirt off, or to lean in and slide his tongue back into Eddie’s shirt, but Steve just squeezes his neck, leaning down to press their foreheads together.

“Deep breath, sweetheart.”

Steve inhales deeply, his other hand holding the back of Eddie’s head gently, his fingers wound in his curls.

“I got you,” Eddie murmurs. “It’s okay.”

“My parents—“ Steve starts, taking a short breath. Eddie rubs his leg gently, his other hand pressed firmly against his back. “My parents always talked about— about queers.”

Eddie looks into his eyes. They’re swimming with tears.

“About how—“ He cuts off to swallow. “How disgusting they are, and how— how sinful they are, and—“

“Steve,” Eddie whispers. He’s heard the same things. Of course he has. He’s never understood it.

How somehow could hate something as beautiful as love.

“But this…” Steve holds Eddie’s face between his hands. He wipes a tear that Eddie didn’t notice falling from his eye. “I’ve never felt like— like there’s anything wrong with this.”

“There isn’t,” Eddie chokes. “There’s nothing wrong with this, baby.” Steve exhales, his thumbs brushing over Eddie’s cheeks. “Come here.”

Steve leans in and kisses him softly before he pulls away just enough that their lips brush when he whispers.

“I love you.”

Eddie’s eyes open slowly, and pulls away to look at him, his hands holding him.

“…Really?”

Steve swallows, his hands falling to hold the collar of Eddie’s shirt, resting on his shoulders, and he nods. Eddie blinks tears back, letting out a soft laugh.

“Oh.”

Steve hesitates, holding onto Eddie’s shirt, looking across his face.

“Is that okay?”

Eddie laughs again, a tear falling from his eye, and he nods.

“Yeah,” he says weakly. “Yeah, it’s okay, Stevie, oh my god.”

“Oh,” Steve says, relaxing, smiling. “Okay.”

“I love you too,” Eddie says, his chest tight, sliding a hand up to hold the side of Steve’s neck, his thumb resting on his jaw.

“Oh,” Steve says lightly. “That’s…”

Eddie laughs softly, leaning in and letting his head fall against Steve’s chest.

“Eddie,” Steve whispers, tugging his hair gently. Eddie hums softly, pressing his hand against the small of his back. “Wanna kiss.”

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, holding his tighter, and he lifts his head, pressing kisses to Steve’s neck. He can hear his heartbeat, can smell his blood beneath his skin, can almost taste it as he drags his tongue over his pulse.

Steve whimpers, his hand tightening his Eddie’s hair, and then he tugs sharply, pulling Eddie away and leaning down to kiss him so hard it almost hurts.

Eddie groans quietly, slipping his hand under Steve’s shirt to the warmth of his skin, and Steve licks Eddie’s mouth open, breathing hard. Eddie shivers when their tongues slide together, and Steve grins, sliding a hand to Eddie’s throat.

He squeezes gently when he sucks on Eddie’s tongue, and Eddie thinks he might die, letting out a strangled whimper at the pressure, at the smooth slide of the metal stud of Steve’s piercing against the underside of his tongue. There’s a string of spit connecting them when he pulls away, and Eddie is panting, and Steve is grinning.

“Christ, Steve.”

Steve giggles softly, tears still in his eyes, and his fingers tighten gently. Eddie takes a breath, his head falling back.

“Okay?” Steve asks softly.

“Harder.”

Steve squeezes harder, his head tilting curiously as Eddie’s breath catches and he whimpers, letting his eyes close. Steve’s hand is warm, but Eddie shivers anyway. He taps Steve’s back gently after a few moments, and Steve releases him.

“God.”

Steve smiles, his finger brushing up and down his neck so gently it almost tickles.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs.

Eddie is breathing hard, his eyes still closed, and Steve leans down to kiss him, licking into his mouth and sucking on his lip even though Eddie can’t kiss back.

Steve drags his lips across Eddie’s cheek, trailing wet kisses over his skin, until he’s kissing his jaw and just under his ear.

“Fuck,” Eddie breathes, tilting his head, listening to the wet sounds of Steve’s lips on his skin. He rubs his hand across the small of Steve’s back. Steve hums softly, his lips finding Eddie’s earlobe.

“Should get your ears pierced,” Steve whispers, his breath against Eddie’s skin, and Eddie shivers again, chills running down his spine.

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm.” He sucks on his earlobe softly, his piercing running across it, and Eddie bites his lip, furrowing his brows. “Would sound so pretty, don’t you think?”

Eddie agrees, tensing as he imagines the soft clicking of Steve’s tongue stud against his earring.

“Shit.” He can feel Steve smile against his skin. “How do you know me so well?” he wonders out loud, his head tilting so Steve can kiss down his neck sloppily, leaving spit and bruises in his path. “Like you know every fuckin’ button I have.”

“Because I’m in love with you.”

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut as they burn, and Steve’s teeth close on his skin gently, nibbling between puffs of hot breath. Eddie slides a hand into Steve’s hair, holding the back of his head gently.

“‘M in love with you too,” Eddie murmurs.

“Fuck.”

Steve licks across his neck, dragging his piercing over his skin, sucking a bruise into his skin before he pulls away and tilts his head to switch sides.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie sighs, his hand slipping to Steve’s hip and pulling him closer. Steve hums softly, his teeth digging into Eddie’s skin.

When he’s satisfied, he pulls away, admiring his work, tracing the bruises with a light finger before he falls forward and his forehead presses to Eddie’s.

Eddie closes his eyes, holding him close, breathing him in. He smells masculine and warm, like something Eddie would like to eat. Like home.

“Who would’ve thought?” Eddie murmurs when Steve nudges their faces together. Steve pulls away to look at him, and Eddie gazes at him, admiring the flush of his cheeks, his kissed-red lips. “Ste-e-eve Harrington.”

“Surprised?” Steve whispers, holding Eddie’s face.

“Hm.” Eddie takes a deep breath, gazing up at him. “Honestly, not really.”

“No?”

Eddie reaches up, touching Steve’s face, holding his chin.

“We cuddle almost every night, sweetheart.”

“‘S true.”

Steve holds his hand to his face.

“So you’re my boyfriend?” he asks almost shyly. Eddie smiles, pausing to swallow before he speaks.

“If you want me to be.”

“Yes, please.”

Eddie leans up and kisses him softly.

“You already act like my boyfriend,” Steve says quietly when they part.

“How so?”

Steve leans back, looking at him, his cheeks pink.

“You take care of me,” he says softly, averting his gaze, down to where his legs rest on either side of Eddie’s hips. “Make me feel safe. Make me feel beautiful,” he adds, his voice almost just a breath.

“Come here.”

Eddie kisses him chastely before he wraps his arms around his waist, sighing as Steve hugs him, relaxing against him. Steve tucks his face back into his neck, his breath warm against Eddie’s skin.

They fall asleep on the sofa, after moving to lay down, wrapped completely around each other, with Eddie’s pulse against Steve’s fingertips.

It’s bright when Eddie wakes up, his face covered by Steve’s hair. He squeezes his eyes shut, sighing heavily, moving his hands. They’re resting on Steve’s back as Steve lays on top on his, between his legs.

There’s noise in the kitchen.

Clatter of dishes and soft voices and the scrape of a chair over the tile floor, and Eddie blinks his eyes open, looking up at the ceiling.

Steve makes a quiet noise under him, a sleepy noise that’s rough in his throat, and Eddie runs his hand through his hair. He sits up heavily, pushing himself up over Eddie and looking down at him. His hair falls around their face like a a curtain, blocking the sunlight out, and Eddie wants to kiss him.

“Is that Robin?” Steve grumbles. Eddie pauses, listening, and he hears Robin’s voice, speaking indistinctly, and a soft laugh from Nancy.

“Sounds like it,” he says quietly.

“What are they doing in my house?” Steve mumbles, leaning down to kiss Eddie’s forehead before he gets up, groaning as he stretches.

Eddie follows him to the kitchen, rubbing his face and squinting as sunlight reflects off the white walls. Robin is sitting on a counter, talking as Nancy makes coffee. Argyle is sitting on the dining table, following a joint while Jonathan watches. Nancy sees them first, looking over as they walk in.

“Morning, sleepyheads— Holy shit.”

Robin looks around her and bursts into laughter as Eddie raises an eyebrow in confusion. Jonathon looks up at them, his eyes scanning both of them vaguely, unimpressed, and Argyle grins at them.

“Jesus, Steve,” Robin says. “I thought Eddie was the vampire.”

Oh.

Eddie’s face burns as he looks at Steve, whose face is red.

“Shut up,” Steve snaps at Robin, who cackles, and he goes over to smack the back of her head as he reaches into the cabinet behind her to get his medication.

Eddie hesitates in the doorway, watching Steve pop the pills into his mouth and sip from the faucet while trying to avoid Robin’s kicking feet. He pushes his hair back, stepping to Nancy and asking quietly for a hair tie. She’s grinning as she stirs her coffee and she just holds her wrist up for him to take it. He kisses her hand when he does.

After tying his hair up, he goes to sit on the table behind where Jonathan is sitting backwards on a chair, using Jonathan’s head to hoist itself up, and Jonathan laughs lightly.

“Morning, fellas.”

“It’s past noon,” Jonathan says dryly.

“Oh, perfect, ‘s not too early to smoke.”

“It’s never too early, my friend,” Argyle says, handing a joint out to Eddie, who takes it with a smile.

Eddie watches while Steve pours coffee into two mugs, while he scoops the perfect amount of sugar and pours the perfect amount of cream into one of them. He watches while Steve banters with Robin, his cheeks still red, while he dodges her hand that’s reaching out to ruffle his hair.

Steve brings the coffee over to him, greeting Jonathan and standing next to Eddie as he sets the coffee down. Eddie lifts his chin, pulling the joint away from his lips as Steve leans down, and Steve smiles, leaning in until his lips brush Eddie’s.

Eddie blows smoke into his mouth slowly, smiling, and he kisses him before he pulls away. Steve blows the smoke into his face.

Eddie turns to find Argyle gazing at them as he lifts his mug to sip his coffee.

“Dude.”

“I love love,” Argyle says simply, and Jonathan snorts.

“Yeah, me too, man,” Eddie says, lifting his mug.

Steve cooks while Robin and Nancy drink their coffee, and Eddie follows him, sitting on the counter. He watches Robin mindlessly play with the ends of Nancy’s hair while Nancy takes a drag from Argyle’s joint.

Eddie cleans the dishes after they eat, and Steve takes his place on the counter, and Eddie leans against it, between his legs. Steve sets his arms over Eddie’s shoulders while Eddie watches the others laugh and talk across the table. Argyle is telling some story, and Jonathan is hiding his face behind his shirt as he laughs.

“Alright?” Steve asks quietly, leaning down so his mouth is right by his ear. Eddie tilts his head, relaxing against his chest.

“Mhmm.”

Steve is quiet for a moment, his hand moving to trace soft lines over Eddie’s neck for a moment before it stops and presses into a spot that’s no doubt bruised red or purple. Eddie bites his lip, his cheeks flushing as it hurts, and he wants to let Steve do it harder, but he smacks his hand away, and Steve giggles.

“Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“No, I’m not.”

Eddie shakes his head fondly, looking back at him as Steve leans forward and rests his head on Eddie’s shoulder.

“I love you,” Eddie says softly. Steve’s fingers run over the back of his exposed neck before he hugs him.

“I love you too.”

Steve buries his face in Eddie’s neck, kissing him gently, and Eddie’s hands find Steve’s forearms, holding him and smiling, his eyes fluttering shut before Robin’s voice says loudly, “Oh my god.”

Steve laughs without lifting his head, his breath hot against Eddie’s skin, and Eddie opens his eyes, laughing when he finds her staring at them.

“You guys were already insufferable with the PDA.”

Steve laughs again, looking up and setting his chin on Eddie’s shoulder.

“You’re gonna have to deal with it, Buckley,” Eddie says dryly. “I’ve got a hot boyfriend, I’m not gonna keep my hands off him.”

She just gives him an immense eye-roll, and Nancy grins, her eyes sparkling as Steve hides his face back in Eddie’s neck.

“I think it’s beautiful,” Argyle says, giving them a nod of approval.

“Thanks, Argyle.”

“Wait, does this mean your guest room is up for grabs now?” Robin asks, leaning so she can see them both around Nancy.

“Uh.” Steve hums a soft mhmm into his neck, and Eddie grins. “Let me take my posters and shit and yeah.”

“Nice.”

She moves in the next week. She often joins Steve in napping on Eddie.

tagging: @allbimyself26 @th3-r4t-k1ng @marvelmwah @papermachedragons @symbioticsimplicity @hereissananxiousmess @telidina @due-to-the-fact-that-im-a-slut @messrs-weasley @suikatto @fandemonium-takes-its-toll thank you all sm <3

and just bc i thought everyone might wanna know, the person that tweeted the post that inspired this also wrote something based on it too!! you can find it here :)

#ta da #i already have another wip for them #not including the ficlet series thing i’m doing #:)#steddie #steddie fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #stranger things #stranger things fanfic

353 notes · View notes

gaysimpsstuff · 4 years ago

Text

Accidentally Injuring Their Partner PT. 2

Part One Here

Y’all- the last one is like, my most popular post. As I’m currently writing this, it’s literally almost at 1K notes so... yeah. This one needed a lot of thought and effort if it’s going to meet people’s expectations.

Please read the note I added at the end of the fic

Genre: angst

Type: drabbleshot

Warnings: gore, mentions of hospitals, crying, cursing, toxic relationships, self blame, some real ‘who cares how I feel, how do you feel?’ kind of unhealthy vibes, hazbin hotel reference (found in Todoroki’s section), talking down on oneself,

Other: this was requested multiple times, but this bitch was planning it before it was requested haha I’m so cool no I’m not I still feel like shit lmao.

Angst Taglist: @smolchildfangirl @combat-wombatus @mandalorian-baby-bird @waffleareniceandfluffy @catcherisvibin @thesubtlewhore

Tomura Shigaraki

It was really all he could do to stare at you.

You’d moved from the theatre to an abandonment hospital, mostly to find any leftover supplies to help with your arm, or rather, lack thereof.

You’d only sort of expected this. Tomura lashing out at you, you getting hurt, you just didn’t expect it to result in you loosing a fucking arm.

Toga was helping to change your bandages, and Magne was speaking quietly with Twice, Spinner, and Compress.

Dabi was speaking with Shigaraki outside the room, and you couldn’t hear what they were saying. You were glad, you didn’t exactly want to hear his voice right now.

You didn’t think you were being that annoying, you thought you were just helping him. And you usually did. When he’d have his little tantrums, he’d get upset at you sure, but he’d never hurt you.

You knew you didn’t do anything differently than usual, maybe he was just more stressed than ordinary? Maybe you should’ve recognized that and altered yourself to fit accordingly.

Or maybe he’d just been horrible, and attacked you for no reason, and you had just been trying to help him.

You knew it was more likely the latter, but you couldn’t help but blame yourself. People don’t just try to kill their partners that they love so much

The door slid open, and Dabi stepped in. He glanced around the room, waving his hand to usher Magne, Spinner, Twice, and Compress out of the room. Today stood up, but you grabbed her hand.

Dabi pushed the door open a little wider, and your boyfriend stepped inside. For once, you were glad he had that horrible hand in his face, you knew that if he took it off you’d probably vomit.

“Call us in if you need anything.” Dabi offered uncharacteristically, sliding the door shut behind him.

Everything was quiet.

Not even the people in the hallway wanted to say anything.

He slowly walked towards you, pulling up a chair and sitting down.

You sat cross-legged on the creaky hospital bed, staring at him as Toga held your hand.

“Why are you here?” You asked quietly.

“I- I um. Why is she here?” Tomura ignored your question, pointing to Toga next to you.

“She’s here because she chopped off my arm after you dusted it. She’s here because she saved my life. Why are you here, Tomura?”

One of his hands lifted to his neck, scratching lightly.

“Shit- I didn’t want anyone else in here-“

“Why not? Don’t want anyone to see you loose yourself and hurt me more? Don’t want anyone here to save me?” You snapped.

“You- you know I didn’t mean it-“

“It doesn’t matter if you meant it or not, Shigaraki.” He flinched away when you spat out his last name like that. “I still got hurt. I lost a fucking arm because of you. How horrible are you that you have to cover up your own insecurities by trying to kill me? No really, I could have died.”

“I’m sorry!” He exclaimed, nails digging deeper into his neck. “I love you, okay? And I promised I’d protect you so-“

“So you broke your promise in the worst way possible.” You swung your legs over the side of the bed, squeezing Toga’s hand before letting go. You walked up to Shigaraki, lifting your hand and gripping his shoulder tightly.

“I’m going.” You whispered. “I can’t be around you. I still have family outside the League, friends that aren’t villains. I can build myself a semi-normal life. I’ll be happy without you.” You turned back to Toga, offering her a smile. “You can come over whenever you want, you’re my friend.” You headed towards the door.

You paused when you heard a soft noise, like a gargled scream. You turned around, seeing Shigaraki shaking.

“No, no please no- don’t go!” He spun around, grabbing your shoulders. You shoved him off you in an instant, curling into yourself

“GET OFF ME!” You screamed. But he was already launching himself at you again, you saw his palm flying towards your face. This time, it wasn’t an accident.

And you knew you wouldn’t make it out this time.

You were pulled back by a strong force, realizing Magne was holding you tight. Compress and Dabi were on either side of Shigaraki, holding him back, while Twice had ran to Toga.

“No! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! Please don’t leave me!” He screamed, the hand fell loose on his face, tumbling down to the floor. You turned away, not wanting to see him.

You could only imagine his expression.

“Goodbye, Shigaraki.” You whispered, ducking out of Magne’s grip and rubbing off.

“Goodbye.”

Touya Todoroki/ Dabi

It had been a week since he’d seen you, a week since he’d felt your hands on his. A week since he’d heard your voice. A week since he’d seen your smile.

A week since he’d burned you.

Called you inferior.

Threatened to kill you.

Well there was certainly a reason why he hadn’t gone to see you since the incident.

But...

He missed you.

He felt so guilty, knowing what he’d said and done to you, and he needed to see you.

Maybe he was just being selfish.

Maybe he knew he’d done something wrong.

Maybe he needed to call you.

He flipped his phone upside down, then right side up again on the counter of the bar.

Toga sat on a stool next to him, tapping her hands against the marble in boredom.

“So... what’s up with you?” She asked, cocking her head and glancing at him.

“Like I’m telling a brat like you.” He growled, flipping his phone over again.

“You’ve been off all week!” She exclaimed, leaning towards him. “Somethings happened to you.”

“If i tells you a little, will you shut up?”

“Mhm mhm!”

“Ughhhhh fine. I had a fight with someone close to me. I... I really hurt them. I know it. I haven’t spoken to them in a week.”

“So... Dabi has a soft spot?”

“That’s not the point of this. Also say that again and I’ll kill you.”

“Oookay then. You should just call them. Say something to them and apologize.” She offered with a shrug.

Dabi sighed, pressing his face into his hands.

“They don’t want to talk to me. Trust me on that.”

“Welp- that’s just my advice. Cent for my thoughts kind of thing except you didn’t pay me. You owe me a penny.”

Toga shrugged, hopping off the chair and leaving the room.

“Don’t owe you shit.” Dabi grumbled, glowering down at his phone again. He pulled up your contact, staring at the picture he’d set for you.

You had a bright smile, emoji hearts decorating your cheeks. It was from your first ‘date.’ When you’d hung out at your place after he broke in looking for shelter and food.

You’d taken care of him, let his spend the night, and even offered to let him stay whenever he needed to.

You were an Angel on earth.

And he’d burnt you.

Called you dirty.

And selfish.

You were anything but.

Ring

“Why the hell are you calling me?”

“I-“

“Dabi. Why are you calling me? You hate me, don’t you?”

“I don’t hate you...”

“Jeez, coulda fooled me.”

“Baby...”

“Don’t call me that.”

“I- I didn’t mean it.” He choked out. “Everything I said, I didn’t mean it. And I-“

“I really don’t care. The doctors said my arms would scar. I’m burnt and scarred like you. Are you happy? Is that what you wanted to achieve? Make me like you so that no one would want me? So that only you could have me?”

Yes

“No! I never wanted to hurt you, ba- Y/n please,”

“Please what? Please what, Dabi? What do you want from me? Huh? You want me to cradle you and say is all going to be okay? You want me to kiss your scars and tell you you’re beautiful? You want me to suck your dick and tell you I love you? After everything you’ve put me through?”

“I-“

“It’s not just you burning me. You’ve left me for days without contact, and then showed up like nothing’s happened! You’ve hit me and then groveled and cried for my mercy! You’ve made me do so much shit for you in bed that I never wanted to do! Our entire relationship, I was scared you’d get sick of me and kill me!”

“You really thought that?”

“Well guess what motherfucker? You can’t come after me! I’ve told the police what happened. Everything between us. They’re helping me move across the country. You’ll never see me again. Happy?”

“No. No no I’m not happy why would I be happy? You made me happy, when I didn’t even know what the word meant, you don’t have to go through with this, please don’t go through with this!”

“Don’t flatter me. I never made you happy. Nothing could make you happy except watching the world burn. I don’t make you happy, Dabi-“

“Yes you do!”

“Just shut up. I’m going to hang up. If I’m being honest... I’ll miss you. You made me happy. But with so much anger and fear surrounding you, it’s hard to even remember the last time we were happy together.”

“I’m... I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

Beep

You were gone.

Shouto Todoroki

If you thought Shouto was quiet before, you should see him now, wait, you were seeing him now, in class, eyes boring into your spine.

You still had a large bandage on your face, being hit in the face with plus added fire power is bound to leave a mark that lasts for over three days.

Did I mention it had been three days now?

It’s very hard to ignore Shouto, seeing as you were in the same class and lived in the same dorms.

Plus everyone in class wanted to know what happened between the two of you, why Shouto seemed so down, why you had the bandage on your face, and if it was all connected.

You’d only told one person what had gone down between the two of you, and that was Bakugou.

Which maybe was a mistake, because he took to trying to fight Todoroki every time he saw him, and repeatedly told you that he ‘fuckin knew that icy-hot bastard was a good-for-nothing bag of of poorly packaged horse shit.’

You appreciated his comfort, but it hurt you every time he said something about Todoroki.

“I don’t get why you’re defending the scumbag. His hand hasn’t even healed off your face yet!”

You and Bakugou were heading to the dorms after class, and he had gone on his usual tangent about how Todoroki did this, Todoroki did that, Todoroki was an asshole, etc etc.

“I mean... he’s technically still my boyfriend. And he’s been nothing but kind to me up until this point. He just... he was stressed, and I was being a bother. I’m sure the injury will fade at some point, then he’ll talk to me again and we can get back to normal.” you shrugged, rubbing at the back of your neck. “We’ll be fine.”

“You know what you are? A pushover.” Bakugou glared at you.

“Wha- I am not! Where did you get that idea?”

“Oh I don’t know, maybe from the fact that You forget to check in with how you feel and keep thinking only about that Half n Half bastard! ‘Oh, he must be so upset with himself!’ Fuck that! How do you feel?”

You kept your eyes on the ground, speeding up. Bakugou grabbed your sleeve, tugging you backwards. His hands found your shoulders, thumbs rubbing soft circles. Your breath hitched, did Shouto ever do this for you?

Not that you could remember.

“I feel... nervous.” you admitted. “I’m nervous that he meant what he said to me. That I’m nothing but a bother to him. I’m nervous that he’ll never come and talk to me, never apologize. I’m worried that if he does talk to me, he’ll think it was my fault. It wasn’t was it?”

You looked up at Bakugou warily, and squeaked when he tightened his grip on your shoulders.

“The fuck? Of course it’s not! Idiot.” he poked your forehead, and you couldn’t help but giggle a little. “Keep talking.”

“Um... I’m...” you took a deep breath. “I’m angry. I’m angry that he hasn’t talked to me. I’m angry about what he said. I’m angry that he even hit me to begin with. If we were training, of course it’d be different, but we weren’t training. And he hurt me. And now I’m doubting everything between us.”

Bakugou was silent, Cardinal eyes met yours. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife, and for a moment, you feared Bakugou would try to blow your ass up for being a pathetic little weakling.

I mean... compared to people like Todoroki and Bakugou, you were right?

Bakugou took a step forward, pulling you into his arms. You held your breath, wondering if he was going to finally snap and kill you.

But... it felt nice.

You lifted your arms, wrapping them around his body and tugging him a little closer. You buried your face into his uniform shirt, body shaking a little as you cried.

You almost wanted to scream, but then the school would panic.

So you just cried, sobbing into his arms and letting him hold you. His embrace was war and comforting, nothing like you’d felt from your so-called boyfriend.

Maybe he was right, maybe you really shouldn’t try to think about him.

You did deserve better.

You sniffled, pulling off Bakugou with a soft smile.

“Thanks, Bakugou. I really needed that. And you’re right.”

“What was that second thing?”

“You’re right.”

“Hmmm?” Bakugou cupped a hand around his ear, feigning deafness.

“Oh my goodness- I said you’re right!”

“That’s it.” he patted you on the shoulder, proud smirk traced across his features. You chuckled. “Now you’re going to tell that to Mr. Daddy Issues and get the fuck over him.”

“Alright, but you’re coming with me!” he nodded, keeping his hand on your shoulder as you returned to the dorms, heading to his dorm.

You paused just outside his door, knocking lightly. Bakugou was a few feet behind you, out of the way, but close enough to step in if something were to happen.

The door swung open slowly, revealing a bored-looking Todoroki. WHen his eyes landed on you, he jumped a little, taking a step back. His hand tightened around the doorknob, his other hand gripping his pants

“Y-Y/n-“ he stuttered, eyes flickering between you and Bakugou. “I-“

“We need to talk.”

“Listen I- I’m sorry!” He exclaimed.

“Todoroki, I don’t think you get it. ‘Sorry’ doesn’t cut it. You might have scarred me, so your one mistake might stay with me my whole life!”

“I know.” His head drooped, and his grip on his pants loosened. “I know. I’m- I’m just like him.”

“Him?”

“I promised I was nothing like him but here we fucking are!”

“Shoto what are you talking about?”

“I’m the worst kind of person!”

“No!”

Shouto looked up, eyes brimming with tears. You took a few steps forward, taking his face into your hands.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered “it was an accident, and you didn’t mean it. Please don’t talk about yourself like that.”

Bakugou grabbed you, yanking you away from him

“Uh, what the fuck? You came here to sever ties with him, not fucking comfort him!”

“Look at him, Bakugou. He needs me.”

“Y/n-“

“Trust me.” You smiled at Bakugou, pushing him away from you slowly before turning back to Shouto. You took the boy into your arms, rocking back and forth with him.

You ignored the heavy feeling in your chest, and the screams your brain slew ar you to get off of him, get away from him, and let Bakugou protect you.

You ignored logic, emotion, and all better judgement.

For this boy who’d hit you.

But Bakugou would end up being right, he was smart.

You’ll see.

Katsuki Bakugou/ Dynamight

Shit wrong Pomeranian

That’s better

Katsuki stood outside Recovery Girl’s room, waiting for Kirishima to come out and tell him what was going on.

He was chewing on his nails, foot tapping against the ground as he stared at the door. He could hear people moving around and talking inside.

He couldn’t get the sound of your screaming out of his head, the large dark patch that formed on your skin around your face, the way you just... fell.

The door slid open, and Bakugou stared forward and Kirishima stepped out, smiling and thanking Recovery Girl.

Bakugou was on his feet in an instant, grabbing Kirishima’s arm.

“How are they? Do they hate me? Can I see them?” He rambled, Kirishima gently pushing Bakugou off him.

“Uh, they’re fine for the most part, they haven’t said anything about you at all, and ask Recovery Girl.” He said, backing off down the hall as Bakugou stared helplessly after him.

“You uh- you might want to apologize. They are really upset.” Kirishima told him, quickly running off down the hall. Bakugou faced towards the room, stepping inside.

A cyan curtain blocked him from seeing you, and he heard shuffling behind it. It slid open, Recovery Girl stepping out. She looked up and saw Bakugou.

She wacked his leg with her needle/cane, and he yelped, stumbling backwards.

“You have no shame!” she snapped. “With what you did to them, you should be cowering outside right now!”

“Shhh!” Bakugou pressed up against the wall. “Do you want them to know I’m here?”

“Are you that clueless?” she grumbled, pulling herself up into her chair. “They’ve gone temporarily deaf.” Bakugou froze, glancing back at the curtain.

He’d blown up your eardrums.

He felt Recovery Girl press something into his hands, and he glanced down.

It was a small whiteboard, with a pen and washcloth.

This was how he’d have to talk to you.

On a fucking whiteboard.

RG pulled the curtains aside, revealing you.

You were laying in the bed, half your face wrapped up in bandages, hands resting on your lap.

“Y/n...” he murmured. You remained still, staring out the window. Bakugou cleared his throat, and you still didn’t react.

“They can’t hear you, remember?” RG shook her head, waddling over to the other side of your bed, pointing at Bakugou. He watched your face slowly turn, before his eyes shot away from you, staring at the ground.

He heard you swallow, and you let out a soft whimper.

Were you scared of him?

Bakugou lifted the whiteboard, quickly scribbling some kanji on it

ごめんなさい (Translation: I am sorry)

You reached forward, taking the whiteboard from him and erasing his words, putting your own down instead.

分かってる。(Translation: I know)

Bakugou pursed his lips, fidgeting with his shirt before he watched you put more writing down

どうして？(Translation: Why?)

Bakugou reached out, taking the whiteboard back, quickly putting down his excuse explanation

私は弱いと感じました。じゃあ霧島を助けてくれたんだ。うらやましくなってきた (Translation: I felt weak. Then you helped Kirishima. I got Jealous)

お許しください (Translation: Please forgive me.)

He handed you the whiteboard back, tapping his foot against the ground. You passed it back to him, and he hurridly read your response.

私はそれについて考えます (Translation: I’ll think about it.)

He had a chance. His eyes finally lifted off the whiteboard, landing on you.

The visible part of your face looked exactly the same, although there was a large bandage on your ear. Your eye looked sad, fearful, and nervous. You had a shaky smile on your face, trying to make him feel better.

You were always thinking about him.

それは再び起こらないだろう (Translation: It won’t happen again)

You sighed, smile falling.

本気？(Translation: Are you sure?)

Bakugou felt his heart drop into his stomach.

Well of fucking course you didn’t trust him, look what he’d done to you!

おっしゃる通りです。. もうお前を放っておいてやるさようなら、y/n。(Translation: You are right. I will leave you alone now. Goodbye, y/n.)

He stood up, leaving the whiteboard on your bed. He headed towards the door, with his hands stuffed into his pockets. He ignored the soft cry of your voice, surprised he was leaving.

He ignored the way you managed to choke out his name in a warbly, unsure voice.

He slid the door shut behind him, slumping against it and sliding down until he sat on the cold ground. He buried his face into his arms, finally allowing himself to cry.

He wasn’t going to try and talk to you, he resolved. He wasn’t going to bother you or scare you.

He’d keep you safe by refusing to talk to him.

He’d let the author end the fanfiction right then and there.

The door slid open behind him, and he flopped backwards, staring up at your face. You were holding the whiteboard.

オマンコにならないでください。事故だったのは分かってる頑張って俺を捕まえるのか諦めるのか? どんなヒーローがあきらめるだろうか？

(Translation: Don't be a pussy. I know it was an accident. Are you going to work hard and get me or give up? What kind of hero would just give up?)

A smirk slowly spread across his face. Yeah, he’d work hard. He’d never scare you or hurt you again. He’d do better.

He’d be the best boyfriend.

And he’d accept your help to stand up next to you.

=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=

After fic note: ohmygod I’m finally finished. This took fucking forever. You loved part one so much, I had to make sure part two was perfect.

Some of these ended in heartbreak

Another ended in a questionable descision

The last ended happily

All of them are different!

I hope you get my references, and appreciate the Japanese Kanji I put in Bakugou’s part (if any of it is inaccurate, please let me know so I can try my best to fix it. I don’t speak or write Japanese, I used this translator to get what I needed).

I worked hard on this, so if y’all could tell me what you like and dislike about this so I can improve my writing, that would be lovely. Don’t be afraid to pop a comment or pop into my ask box, I do my best to respond to every comment and ask, so don’t worry about being ignored.

I love all of you, and I’m so glad to be able to write for you.

Thanks for all of your support, I promise I’ll work hard on all of my drafts to make sure you get entertainment constantly!

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