#he was teeny tiny not even two weeks old here

[dreamings-free]

a year ago today 💓

Louis with his nephew via Daisy’s instagram story 🥺 - 22/08/22

[seranextdoor]

HAUNTING ~ JASON P. TODD. 18+

Summary: Maybe blocking Jason isn't such a great idea.

Contents: dry humping, oral sex (female receiving), fingering in the alleyway, fucking in the alleyway hence risky sex slash teeny tiny bit of exhibitionism, rough sex, size difference, unhealthy relationship.

Pairing: Jason P. Todd X Female! Reader.

Word count: 2.6k

Author note: an anon implied that they want a part two of the drabble i made abt ex! jason. it is here... and it's valentine's day special. sorry for dropping bangers and leaving for another 2 months. will do it again. enjoy!

🖥️ MAIN MENU. PART ONE.

I know if I’m haunting you,

you must be haunting me.

You told yourself this was going to be the last time. The morning after Jason had left, you were already blocking his number and changing the lock to your front door the next day. Maybe it’s the post-nut clarity that helps you realized that maybe… maybe this things going on between you and him wasn’t exactly healthy. Maybe it’s a good idea to ignore the calls you’ve been getting from ‘unknown’ caller knowing full well it was him.

You think it’s a little cute when he went as far as to text you from Dick’s number.

He thinks you’re a brat.

Besides, who cares if what him and you had going on wasn’t healthy? You didn’t have to blocked him.

Whatever, what’s done is done. “He’s going to stop reaching out eventually.” you told yourself only to see him leaning against his bike, waiting for you in one of the alleyway you always passes after your night shift a week after blocking him. The red helmet slightly glints in the dark when the streetlight hits, “come here,” he murmurs, head tilts slightly to the side. There’s a battered bouquet of red roses in his hand, the veins on his forearm pokes out from how tight he gripped the bouquet to the point that the stems are crushed. “Happy Valentine’s Day, princess. Come get your flowers.” Jason adds, his other hand reached up to removed his helmet as he placed it on the seat of his bike.

”I don’t want to.” A small huff left your lips.

”Just do it, goddamnit [Y/N].”

Old habits die hard.

Your shoulders drops in defeat as you dragged your feet to him, you can’t help it. As much as you want to keep up the ‘I’ve-totally-moved-on’ acts, you just can’t. So here you are, not even five minutes in and Jason already had his arms wrapped around your waist, his lips naturally finding their way to yours the second you had your head slightly tilts up. “Blocked my number, huh? What, you think you’re so mature, huh?” He snorts, letting the bouquet falls from his hand to hold you tighter in his arms. “I didn’t block you…” You whined, standing on your tip toes to keep him quiet by smothering his lips with small pecks.

”Yeah right, that’s totally believable.” He scoffed in between the pecks you're giving him, his head tilts down to make it easier for you to reached in for more kisses. “Because my texts and calls totally got thru.” You can practically taste the sarcasm dripping from the way he talks to you. “I might have accidentally blocked you.” You pulled back slightly to watch as his face gradually sours. He stared back at you with an annoyed look, his brows furrowed before a low groan leaves his lips. “Face the wall.” He groaned, his fingers running thru his black locks before you reluctantly turn to face the wall, “We’re doing it right here?” You stuttered as you spared him a glance over your shoulder, your eyes quickly widened when he pressed himself against you. His bulge slightly rubs against your ass, his hands digs into your hips to keep you still. “Damn right we are.” He says, his breathing slightly staggered as he moves his hips slightly to get more friction against his clothed cock.

You leaned the back of your head, fingers latching onto his forearms as a support. “You’re so annoying, you know that, right?” He speak with a gruff, there’s creases on his forehead as Jason looked back at him. “How many times are you going to do this, huh? Acting like I don’t exist and blocking my number the second we had sex. I’m gettin’ real sick of it, [Y/N].” His hand reached up to grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at him  as he grinds himself against the curves of your ass. “Fucking brat.” He adds, his thumb gently brushing over your lips. “My fucking brat.”

“I don’t know,” you breathes, your lips instinctively parting as Jason slips his thumb into your mouth. “…until you’re bored of me?.” You muffled out your words, eyes slowly turning cloudy from the having his cock brushing up against you. He scoffed at your reasoning, rolling his eyes before he pressed his thumb down your tongue.

”As if.” He mumbled, leaning down slightly to rest his chin on your shoulder. “You’re gonna block me again after this?” His eyes flickered to looked back at you. You stared at him for a solid minute with only the sound of his jeans and your skirt rubbing together can be heard before he removed his thumb off your tongue to let you speak. “No?” You stammers, mentally cursing yourself when he smirked at your answer. “Good girl.” He replied, his hand falls to the hem of your skirt.

”I missed you,” A soft whine left his lips as his fingers desperately reached down to rub your clit. Jason leaned against you to leave kisses on your neck and up to your jaw as his fingers pushes your panties aside. “You’re so wet already, baby.” He mutters, massaging the bundle of nerves in a circular motion. He slowly swipes his fingers between your folds as you leave trails of your wetness on his fingers. “Looks like this pretty little thing misses me too.” He chuckled when you whimpers at the feeling of his fingers being pushed inside of you. “I missed you too…” You whined, eyes shut tight as he pumps his digits deeper into your sopping cunt. The wetness between your legs sticks to your thighs and clings to his fingers, his teeth hungrily leaving marks on your neck. “Sorry for blocking you.” Your body shuddered in sheer bliss when his fingers curls with his calloused palm constantly brushing against your clit.

”Yeah? You’re sorry?” He asked, his voice growing breathy while his other hand clumsily undo his belt and zipper. A small frustrated groan leaves his throat before he pulls his fingers out of you causing you to pout and whine. “Oh, come on. Give me a second.” He laughed, turning you around but this time facing his bike. He moves your leg up on the seat before he kneel down behind you. “Fuck… Look at that.” He whispers, his warm breath fanned against your pussy before he desperately buried his face in between your thighs. “Jason!” You squeaked, toes curling upon feeling his tongue lapping on your clit with his fingers tightly gripping your thighs. His thick fingers leaving marks on your skin as you squirmed on his bike, causing him to land a spank on your cheek.

You whined. “What’s that for?” You looked back at him only to be met with his dazed eyes and his mouth still latching onto your pussy, drinking every liquid that drips out of you. For once in the span of an hour filled with nothing but his sarcasm, he was quiet. Except for the occasional groans and moans every time you pushes deeper against his nose. Your nails digs into the cushion of his seat as you whimpers when he slide his tongue into your entrance, prodding in and out of your entrance before he finally pulled back for some air.

”Jeez, Jay…” He looked up at you when you pouted, his cheeks and chin were coated with your juices before his eyes cast down to the way you wiggled your hips at him. “…keep going.” You bat your lashes at him, the excitement in your stomach stirs as he tugs his pants and boxer just low enough for his cock to springs out of the tight confinement before gently slapping against his stomach. His thumb keeping your panties aside and your entrance exposed to him, "Calm down, princess." He sighs before his teeth digs into his lower lip, it's been a hard week since he felt anything close to this. Sure, he settled on his fist for the first two days before he completely stopped when he realised that fucking his fist to the thought of you wasn't as good as fucking you.

He slowly moves his hips, managing to bury the tip of his cock inside of you as he lets out a choked moan. "Still feels good as ever." He moaned, head tilted back with his eyes closed. His cock twitches in you when small whines falls past your lips, sending vibrations down to him as the muscles tightening around his length. "Christ, you're still not used to me?" His breath were shaky before he looked down to you, admiring at the clear size difference between the two of you as you tried your best to take every inch of him.

"S'not my fault," You huffed, your legs slightly trembles underneath him. Jason shifts your position slightly, holding you by the waist with one hand while his other hand makes their way under your shirt to fondled with your tits. "Never said it was." He replied, pushing his cock deeper inside of you until he’s halfway in when he stopped, noticing the way you tensed up. “It’s okay, baby. Just a few more inches and the hard part’s over.” Your body shuddered from his whispers, his breath tickling the back of your neck before you quickly nods at his words. His hand reached to wiped the sweats off your forehead before his hips slowly moves, “Mhm, just like that… Just relax.” Jason coos, planting small kisses on your temples.

A whine break out of your sealed lips when he completely buried himself inside of you, filling every crevices off your pussy with his twitching cock. The curve of his length itches just the sweet spot to make you see stars, “Jason…” The sound of you calling his name temporarily distracts him from the way your pussy clamped him down. His fingers had its deadly grips on your hips as you stand on your tip toes just to slightly fuck yourself on his cock, “Yeah?” He croaked, replying back to you with a deeper tone as he glanced down to the way your ass softly slaps against his pelvis, “You’re adjusting?” He asked before you let a small ‘mhm’ left your lips.

“You’re just fucking yourself on me.”

“No, I’m not.” You lied with a crooked grin. Jason rolled his eyes.

“Just look at the damn wall. You’re gonna break that dainty little neck if you keep looking back at me like that.” He mumbled, moving his hips into you in a more quicker pace. “Hold onto my helmet. Drop it and I’m stopping.” He grabbed a fistful off your ass while you quickly grabbed the red helmet, hugging it to your chest. The sound of skin slapping can be heard throughout the dark alleyway, your shared moans and groans reverberates and bounces off the brick walls. He moves his hand down between your legs, his fingers pressing down on your clit as he moves it in sloppy, circular motion. His other hand holding on the handle of his bike, “Lift your ass up, baby.” He grunted, brow furrowing as his hips moves back and forth, every thrust felt like he’s sending you over the edge.

”I’m trying!” You said in a hushed tone, too breathless. You weren’t sure if your knees can take anymore before they buckled to the dirty ground. In an act of desperation, Jason lifts you up with his forearm under your stomach causing your legs to dangled off the ground before he continue shoving his fat cock into your dripping pussy. You let out a small gasp, he’s really doing it-- he’s quite literally carrying you like a doll. “Can’t even do the simplest thing.” He huffed, eyes closed with his the tip of his nose tickling the crook of your neck as your fingers clings to his helmet, not wanting to dropped it lest he stopped just for the sake of making you miserable.

Your eyes lazily gazes at the other end of the alleyway where anyone that decides to passed the alleyway can noticed the both of you. Your cheeks warmed up at the thought, minimizing your moans into small squeaks and whines. You glanced at Jason, hoping he doesn’t notice only for him to sharply thrust into you to elicit a loud moan out of you, green eyes narrowing down at you. “Don’t be quiet,” He whispered, his other hand reached to traced the curve of your spine with his thumb lightly. “Let me hear you.” He dragged his voice to sound slightly whiny just to tease you even further.

You hated how much you expected this from the get go.

Blocking him was never an option, Jason has a knack when it comes to keeping you tied to him. One command from him and you’d rushed back into his arms like a puppy, hopelessly lingering around him. “Feels so good…” You whispered back, lashes thick with salty tears as wanton moans spills out of your swollen lips. You hated the fact that the both of you knows this. You’re not even sure if the both of you were even exes at some point. The feeling of the head of his cock brushing against your sweet spot sends you shivering despite being half dressed, it doesn’t help how godly his cock is. The delicious curve that sends you whining for more, the noticeable vein on the side of his length, the way his balls slaps against your clit, the thickness of it-- all of it drives you insane, fills your body with nothing but carnal desires.

“Outside? Inside?” He asked in between his groans, strands of his black locks sticks to his forehead as his jaw clenches. You know it’s near when his movement grow sloppy and inconsistent, his eyes darkened with sheer lust and the muscles on his bicep flexes. “Fuck, don’t just gimme puppy eyes, princess. Answer me.” He said with gritted teeth, purposely moving his hips rougher into you as you cried out of pleasure. “Out, out, out…” Your babbles almost went incoherent when you choked on your own moans while you blinks away the tears that welled at the corned of your eyes. He nods his head, burying his face into your shoulder as his arm around your waist tightens.

”Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” He curses, his head spinning and leaving him dizzy. Jason wanted to stay inside of you badly, the warmth of your cunt wrapping snugly around him screams nothing but heaven. And the fact that you’re already cumming on his cock before he even gets to pulled out? God, you’re just torturing him at this point. He pulled out of you right before he finishes, wet and sticky seeds shooting on your back and staining your skirt as he winces when the cold air hits his cock. “Oh my god.” His chuckle were airy, skin were slightly flushed from the lovemaking. Jason cradled you in his arms, turning you around to face him before placing you on top of his bike.

”You okay?” He asked, softly massaging your inner thighs. His forehead presses against yours, his gaze softened at the sight of you looking back at him with tired eyes. “Yep.” Your answer were short as you steadied your breathing, your arms wrapped around his neck to pulled him closer while Jason fixes your clothes.

”Wanna go rest at my place?”

The both of you stared at each other for a solid minute. You give him a small nod.

“That’s my girl.”

DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR MODIFY ANY OF MY WORKS. ©️ KENNEDYBABY.

[daveth-isnt-dead]

Coalescence part 3/3

Part Two

Summary:

She’s so nervous that her breath catches in her lungs and doesn’t come back out, from her side she can hear Viktor’s foot tapping a frantic rhythm against the tiles. Without even thinking it through, her hand finds his and grabs it tight. He doesn’t pull back, if anything he holds hers even tighter. The question rises once again, unbidden. What are we? AKA: She works with Viktor for seven years, she is in love with him for five of them.

Contains: she/her pronouns, teenie tiny bit of blood kink, explicit sexual content, bittersweet ending.

Word Count: 9166

Read on AO3

“I have someone who might be able to help us,” Viktor says a few weeks later, tangled together with her in his bed. He is tucked in under her arm and she gently runs her fingers through his hair as they slowly wake up for the morning. 

Viktor’s work on the Hexcore progressed quickly, but still without a lick of real, tangible success. She sat anxiously near him the first time he discovered that the core had begun to respond to organic matter and attempted to revive one of the very deceased plants from his bedroom. It still haunts her, the way its leaves began to unfurl, the brown quickly wicking away to be replaced by a virile green. She had clutched Viktor’s hand, grinning in anticipation of an answer , before the plant withered and turned to dust. 

It continued that way, day after day. Jayce was absent for most of it. Though she and Viktor had what they both deemed more important work to do, Jayce was busy handling the situation with the Zaunites and only stopped by for a few hours every couple of days. Even then he seemed restless, always pacing back and forth and only stopping to see if either of them had succeeded in utilising the Hexcore, creating a cure . However, Viktor never wanted to admit his motives were at all selfish. 

She wishes he was selfish. Laying in bed with him, the warm yellow light of sunrise dancing across his pale skin, “That’s good news, isn’t it?” Viktor sighs, “I hope so.” he buries his face in her shirt, “He’s an old mentor, I wouldn’t call him a friend , but-” “Do you trust him?” She asks quickly, tangling her fingers into the hair curled behind his ears. 

“Regarding this matter? Yes, I do.” 

She readjusts herself, sliding down so she can look him in the eye, holding his cheek in her palm, “Then so do I.” she presses her forehead to his, breathing deeply and closing her eyes, “Whatever you need to do, I trust you and I’ll be here, should you need me.”

It’s true, her faith in him is inexorable. Even after days of watching plants grow as tall as the ceiling only to collapse into dust, even after Professor Heimerdinger stopped by the lab and begged them to destroy the core immediately, her trust in Viktor never wavered. Heimerdinger had been upset. though it was many years ago that he assigned her to be his eyes and ears on the burgeoning production of Hextech, part of him obviously still expected her to defer to him in this matter, for her to agree with him without question. She didn’t, her rejection had been clipped, but polite, though she had to bite her tongue to prevent herself from asking why he was so desperate to see Viktor die for his work, instead of helping him to find any other option. 

She isn’t like that. She can’t possibly be like that. She will do whatever he asks of her, she will follow him to his bed every single night just for another chance to hold him. She will keep all burning notions of what are we? buried deep in her chest because now is not the time and the time will probably never come. In all ways, she will be what he needs her to be. Slowly, Viktor’s hand slides up behind her head, holding her against him, “You can’t come with me.” he breathes. At first, she wants to ask why, to accuse him of not trusting her enough, but none of that matters, not really. So instead she replies, “Then I’ll be here when you get back.” she manages a crooked little smile, “Can I ask where you’re going?” “The undercity.” He admits, “I can’t tell you anything more.” She nods, “Okay. Just be safe, promise me that much.” “I promise.” He whispers, leaning up to press a kiss to her temple. 

He leaves that evening, and she is anxious. With Jayce away on council business as he is pretty much all the time now and Sky at the botany lab down the hall, there is nothing she can do but worry. As the tensions between Piltover and Zaun reach a fever pitch, the only interest the council has in Hextech is for weaponry and the three of them have refused to even draft a single blueprint related to the matter. So there isn’t even a half-finished project for her to tinker with. 

As she paces back and forth, she notices that the Hexcore seems to be following her movements again. Slowly rotating in her direction as she crosses the room, and then back when she returns to her starting point. Despite it being the only lead they have in ever achieving biological augmentation, she doesn’t like looking at it. Whenever she does it spins in a slow, mocking arc and fluctuates its pitch the same way it did the night Viktor almost died, laughing at her. Through the gaps in the runes, the Hextech gemstone is like a winking eye, flashes of it appear as the plates spin and spin. Her brows draw tight and she walks slowly towards it, there are still dust particles floating around in the air from the last plant they experimented on and the light of the moon catches on them. As she steps closer, the Hexcore’s spin slows, daring her, and as if her finger is being pulled by a string she reaches out to touch it. 

Nothing. Her finger hits metal and the world doesn’t change. 

She curses and kicks the stool at the workbench, knocking it to the ground with a loud clank . The Hexcore’s pitch begins to fluctuate again and she nearly starts a screaming match with the inanimate object when she hears a ruckus outside her window. Stepping over to it, her heart drops like a rock at the sight of a blockade being set up on the Piltover side of the bridge that connects to the Undercity. Unable to think about anything but Viktor stuck on the other side of it, she abandons any thought of getting work done and runs as quickly as she can to Jayce’s room. 

***

“I didn’t have a choice .” Jayce says, sitting in an embroidered armchair with his head in his hands, “There wasn’t another option, people from the Undercity are dangerous.” She scoffs, leaning against the wall on the other side of the room, “Dangerous? Look, I may be from topside but I'm not exactly Piltover elite. You’ve been to my childhood home, Jayce, I grew up in the fringes, half my friends growing up were Zaunites, and my parents did most of their shopping there because it was all they could afford.” She crosses her arms, jaw tight as she tries not to blow up at him, “You’ve pushed them too far, push anyone too far and there’s no telling what they’ll do.”

“Well, what was I supposed to do then, huh?” Jayce spits, bouncing his knee at an ever-increasing speed, “Do you want to be on the council? Give it a go? See how you do?” He laughs bitterly, “We have an open spot if you’re interested.”

“An open-” she exhales a disbelieving breath, “Wait. Heimerdinger?” 

He doesn’t respond. 

“Fuck, Jayce, Heimerdinger? ” Jayce snorts, “It’s not like the two of you were exchanging pleasantries the last time you talked.” 

“Oh sure, I’ll bite.” She snaps, “Whatever personal or even scientific issues I may have with Heimerdinger would not get in the way of me using my brain and realising that the rest of the council only wanted him removed for their own interests.” 

“It’s more complicated than that-” “Viktor is on the other side of the bridge.” She hisses, “That’s why I came here. To ask my friend if there was something we could do, I didn’t realise you were the one who set this whole fucking thing up.”

“He’s what? ” Jayce exclaims, leaping up from his chair, “Why didn’t he tell me?” “Well, he shouldn’t have to, Jayce! It’s not like he knew that you were going to lock down the city.” She argues, trying hard to ignore the tears of frustration beading in the corner of her eyes, “I was already worried enough without the concern that someone’s insane idea would get him stuck on the other side of the bridge.”

Jayce lets out a shaky breath and runs a trembling hand through his hair, “I-I can let the enforcers know to keep an eye out for him, they can contact me when he arrives.”

“Then you’ll contact me, right?” He turns to her, all anger disappearing as his posture sinks with rapid exhaustion, “Then I’ll contact you.”

She sniffles, her burst of fury slowly melting and leaving her with nothing but that aching anxiety that plagued her all evening. She knows that Viktor will be okay, he’s far more familiar with the Undercity than she is and certainly knows exactly where he is going. Though she hasn't been apart from him this long since the night she found him unconscious on the floor, it makes her feel uneasy, her hands shake. 

“Do you want to sleep here?” Jayce asks, sounding defeated, “I probably won’t be sleeping anyway and that way I can update you through the capsule system.”

“Yeah.” She replies weakly, unsettled at the feeling of returning to Viktor’s empty bed, “That would be nice, thank you.” 

He sighs and starts heading for the door out to his sitting room, “No problem” “Jayce?” She calls out, stopping him at the doorway, “I meant everything I said, but I'm sorry for yelling at you.” “Yeah.” He says, voice high and tight in his throat, “I’m sorry too.”

***

She receives a capsule from Jayce in the early morning, letting her know that Viktor made his way back safely, but when she goes to meet him in the lab, Jayce is already on his way out. He gives her an uncomfortable look that she completely ignores as she rushes into the lab to find Viktor sitting at his desk with his head in his hands. 

He peers up when he hears her coming, expression changing from anger to something more like aching melancholy, his breath rattles in his chest when he sighs, “I hear you and Jayce had an argument, also.” “Yeah, we did, last night.” She replies, “What happened between the two of you?”

He turns back to the desk, working to pull apart what looks like a makeshift grenade, “Councillor Medarda is trying to convince him to build Hextech weaponry” he peers at her over his shoulder, “It’s working.”

She crosses the room and leans up against his desk, hanging her head, “I don’t know what to do, Viktor. I thought I might have made some headway with him last night but-” she shrugs, “I guess I was wrong.”

Viktor rolls his chair forward and rests his forehead against the dip of her waist, “We’ll find another way, without him.” He lets out a shaky exhale, “At least, until he comes back around.” “I'm sure he will.” Her hand finds the top of his head and her fingers tangle in his hair, “How did things go last night? Did you find what you needed?” “I-” he sucks a breath in through his teeth, leaning backward to look up at her face, “I did, yes.” Relief rushes through her, she feels her shoulders relax for the first time in hours, “At least something good came out of this, then.” “The solution is, inelegant and dangerous.” Viktor murmurs, taking her hand in his own, “I understand if-” “No.” She interrupts, lifting their joined hands to her lips and kissing the back of his knuckles, “Tell me what you need me to do.”

___

What are we? She muses, her head resting on Viktor’s bare thigh, peering up at his pained expression above her. She shifts her head a little, for a better view, and blood smears across her cheek. He looks especially beautiful in the dim light of the lab, with only the blue glow of the Hexcore for illumination, even as he bites his lower lip in pain. 

“Is that all of them?” She asks, trying to ignore how desperately the words try to stick in her throat.

He heaves a breath and the sound rattles around behind his ribs, he taps a finger to the inside of his thigh, “One more.” “Okay.” She breathes, curling her legs out from under herself and rising to her knees. Careful to steady herself using his good leg despite it being harder to reach. At the correct height, she swallows dryly, lifting the hand that still clutches the scalpel. Her hand shakes as it draws towards him, but he grabs her wrist before she can continue. 

His breathing is staccato now, “You don’t have to.” the words clatter from his lips with no precision, all choppy and desperate, “I can do it, this time.” She shakes her head, removing her other hand from his thigh and pressing it over his heart, feeling its desperate pattering behind the birdcage clutch of his ribs, “Let me, please.”

Viktor’s hand slides from her wrist, up the length of her arm, over her bare shoulder and into her hair, fingers digging in tightly to the tangle at the side of her head. She can’t resist leaning into his fingers, lifting the scalpel again and waiting for his nod before she lowers it to his skin. There’s only one rune left that hasn't been carved, she had them all catalogued and knows just which one remains, so her hand is confident even as the blade pierces flesh. A hiss escapes Viktor’s teeth, and his clutch on her hair grows so tight it’s almost painful. She presses on. It aches to see the ruination, the unsightly red carvings on his alabaster skin, but it must be done and if it truly must, she would rather it be by her hand than his. Viktor’s next breath is an even more frightening rattle, she can see his chest heaving, teeth clenched. 

“Almost done, I promise,” she whispers, pressing a kiss to his leg. 

He nods, eyes squeezed shut and then she brings the blade down for the final cut. Too deep, blood pools around the blade and drips down her wrist, she doesn’t stop until the lines meet and complete the perverse, bloody imitation of a rune. Without thinking, she catches the blood on her wrist with her tongue before it continues its slow descent down her forearm. It's only when the metallic tang hits that she realises she's done it. 

She swallows, averting her eyes. The taste of blood refuses to leave her mouth, “Well, that part is done, at least.” 

“Yes,” Viktor replies, his voice breathless and wavering, “You…You already have the injector?” It’s on the floor beside her, right by her knee. Her hand shakes so much when she picks it up that she almost drops it. She was already at the academy when shimmer flooded the Undercity, so despite living so close during her childhood she never actually got to see the effects of it first-hand. Viktor showing her the vial was perhaps the only moment of hesitation she felt about this plan of his, if only because the little she knew indicated that it would hurt and it would hurt a lot . Viktor knew this, gripped both her hands and told her that he still wanted to do it, had to do it. He tried to convince her to let him do it alone, knowing that being an active participant in his suffering would only make her upset. Though the idea of him suffering without her there only made her feel worse, so her mind couldn’t be changed. 

She rises back up on her knees and rests her free hand on his upper arm. Viktor’s expression softens just a little, and he covers her hand with his own. She takes several sharp breaths in through her nose, exhaling shakily as she lines the injector up with the section of bare thigh left exposed by his brace. 

Viktor lets out a breath that almost sounds like a whimper, “You will need to be away from me, when I use the Hexcore.” he pants desperately between his words, struggling to swallow enough air, “Without the shimmer in your system I don't-” he grits his teeth, “I don’t know what it will do to you.”

“Okay.” She breathes, surprised at how calm she sounds, because her hands won’t stop shaking, “Tell me when to go, and I’ll go.” He nods loosely, huffing desperate breaths in through his teeth. 

She lets out one final breath, “Now?” “Now.”

He starts to convulse before her finger even gets a chance to leave the trigger. Sickly purple tendrils spread out from the injection site, the whole way down his leg and up to the right side of his face. Viktor tosses his head back in a scream and she leaps up to wrap her arms around his shoulders, holding him as tight as she can with all his thrashing. Words are leaving her mouth, desperate and panicked and so instinctual that she doesn't even hear them, Viktor’s hands leap up underneath her shirt and cling to her bare skin like he’ll lose himself if he isn’t clutching to her. 

His nails dig into her upper back and he howls in agony as he drags them down the entire length of her bare skin to the waistband of her skirt. She can feel her skin being pulled up under his nails and can imagine the long red scrapes left behind. She just bites down on a scream and buries her face further into his shoulder, refusing to let him go even as he involuntarily tears into her flesh. He slumps against her, his screams turning to something more like sobs as the shimmer finally settles into his veins and It’s only a few more seconds before he regains enough lucidity to whisper, “Go. Now.”

She does as asked, dropping back to the floor and scurrying backward until she hits a wall. Viktor lets out a pained hiss as he slices open the palm of his hand and she pulls her knees up to her chest, faced with the unbearable fact that for now, all she can do is watch. There isn’t much she can see from behind him, only the anxious curl of his spine and the lopsided arch of his shoulders. She sees him hesitate, retract his hand as he reaches out to the Hexcore, but then it’s like it grabs him and yanks him towards it, his hand coming in contact with a sound akin to a thunderclap and a scream louder than any she’s heard leaves his mouth as the Hexcore begins the unfamiliar process. 

There is only so much she can tolerate. From her perspective all she can see is his shoulders jumping up in agony and the flash of purple light. After a few seconds, she can’t bear it any longer and buries her head in her knees, gritting her teeth and trying her best to ignore the sounds. Tears are beading in her eyes and she feels the same way she did the night he almost died when all she could do was sit by and wait . It takes what feels like hours, the sound of his pained yowling and the whining spin of the Hexcore filling the room, but it does eventually come to an end. His screams slow to gasping breaths and the Hexcore slowly returns to its usual ambient G4 hum, then there’s what sounds like a clunk and when her head shoots up she realises it was the sound of him falling to the ground.

She calls his name in a panic, scrambling towards him on all fours and nearly starts to cry with relief when he manages to pull himself up in a seated position and gives her a weak smile. Her hand finds his cheek, luckily the purple glow from the shimmer seems to have receded and she is overjoyed to see that his eyes have returned to their usual gold.

“Sorry.” She says, sniffling and quickly pulling her hand back, “Are you okay? Did it work?” He laughs, but he sounds exhausted. “Let’s find out together.” He moves to start standing, and she rushes to help him. As she reaches out, Viktor rests a hand on her own and wheezes, “Let me do it on my own, please.”

Sitting back on her knees, she lets her hand fall and watches Viktor slowly pull himself to his feet. Her mouth drops open at the sight of his leg, emitting an adamantine glow, with a sheen that would make it seem solidly metal if not for the way it moved, imitations of tendons crisscrossing up the length of it in a brilliant deep purple. With a haggard breath escaping his already exhausted lungs, he finally stands.

It feels oddly right, somehow, to sit on the ground at his feet. To watch his posture uncurl in a way it hasn't in years. His legs are completely straight, anchoring him to the ground, but his upper half still slopes down to the right, akimbo atop his solid foundation. The problems are spinal too, of course, the leg doesn't fix everything, but she still feels awash in vibrancy when he looks down at her from so high above. 

He lets out another wheezing breath, that only slightly shatters the sensation of kneeling before divinity and says, “Can you take this off me?” gesturing to his brace.

“Yes! Of course!” She sputters, scrambling forward and rising up on her knees. Her hands are very familiar with the buckles and clasps by now and after only a few seconds the brace falls to the ground with a thud . Still on her knees, she leans forward tentatively and gently pushes up the leg of his underwear so she can press her lips to the seam where flesh ends and the metal begins. 

“It hurt a lot, didn’t it?” She asks, breath ghosting over his bare skin. 

One of his hands rests on her shoulder, the other tangles in the hair on the back of her head, “Yes, it did.”

“ Does it hurt?”

He swallows, eyebrows pinching like he ain't sure how to respond, after a moment he settles on, “No.”

Satisfied, she presses her cheek against the soft skin of his stomach, breathing slowly in and out. 

They stay like that for some time, long enough that her knees start to ache from the hard tiles underneath. And then, when she finally leans back to stare up at him, and his hand comes down to press against her cheek, the question she has been asking herself for years finally decides to manifest itself as a desperate vocalisation, “Viktor…what are-”

His lips collide with hers in a frantic clacking of teeth before she can finish the question and she is all too glad to receive his answer. Her heart does something desperate in her chest, and one of her hands jumps up to tangle in the hair on the back of his head. Viktor wraps an arm around her back and with a surprising amount of strength (residual adrenaline, she assumes) tugs her up to her feet so she can slot her body fully against his. An animalistic sound grinds out from the back of his throat when her mouth opens beneath his and she instinctually hikes one of her legs up over his hip in a desperate bid to be closer forever and ever closer . His hips automatically roll in response to her bumping against him and the sound she lets out is so exhilarated that it almost sounds like a pathetic sob. 

His arm tucks under her leg, and the two of them stumble backward until he is leaning up against a desk, she rests her knee on the edge of it and drinks down the sounds of his moans when she grinds her hips against him. Viktor’s mouth feels perfect against hers, his lips well bitten and chapped, his teeth crooked under her tongue. He’s so wonderfully flawed, so delectably human, she wishes that every thought she’s ever had of him could be felt through her touch. That he could just know how long and how painfully she has needed him just through the frantic yank of her hand in his hair. His hands slip up under her shirt, grabbing her bare waist as his tongue meets hers in a desperate and salacious writhe. She hisses when his palms press against the angry scrapes his nails left earlier, but the pain does little to deter her. The exhilaration fizzes and pops in her veins like an electrical discharge, and her heart swells and unfurls, leaving her lost in an addictive warmth that she feels like might wither and die without. One of Viktor’s hands begins a tentative journey up her torso, hesitating at the seam of her brassiere. 

Desperate to feel him, she leans back just a little so she can start tearing her own clothes off, and it’s only then that Viktor seems to regain something like lucidity. Letting out a rattling breath against the side of her neck, “We shouldn’t do this here.” he whispers, and his breath against her skin sends shivers down her spine.

She doesn't want to stop, but he’s right, “Your dorm, then?” She breathes, whining when he licks a stripe up the side of her throat. 

“Yours.” He corrects and she feels him smile against her skin, “It’s always been closer.” ***

The time that passes as they move from the lab to her dorm feels utterly inconsequential. Viktor breaks into a fit of laughter as he struggles to get his trousers back on, and again when she is so busy kissing his shoulders that he can barely get her out of the way long enough to get his arms in his shirt. His hand never leaves hers as they stumble down the halls and the few minutes it takes pass in a blur, like a skip in time, like two of them leapt completely over the space between two moments, ignoring the connective tissue in between. She arrives at her door, giddy, drunk on the taste of his mouth and the feeling of his hands. It’s hard to get the key in the lock with his arms around her waist and his nose pressed against the side of her throat, but her shaky hands somehow manage the task. 

It’s only when they step past the threshold of her dorm that the raging and boiling intensity simmers down to something softer, syrupy and thick in her veins. The door closes behind them and Viktor looms over her, his breathing heavy and slow, eyes the ever-beautiful gold that she has seen in her dreams for the last five years. His brow creases and his breath shakes as he brings his palm to her cheek. 

The next kiss is different, there is no clacking of teeth, no desperate groping. His lips press against hers softly, achingly, his other arm wraps around her waist and pulls her close to him. She nearly feels like crying, both her hands slipping up under his untucked shirt and clinging tightly to his shoulder blades. He tilts his head to the side, his thumb rubbing gently across her cheekbone and she feels herself melt into him, all the sharp edges of him dig into her skin and the sensation is exquisite. They separate with a heaving of breath and Viktor’s hand slides from her cheek to the back of her head and he leans down to press his forehead to hers. 

“Do you have any idea how long I have wanted to do that?” He whispers.

Her face breaks into a wide smile, warmth dancing from her heart out to the tips of her fingers, “Enlighten me.”

“Years.” He replies, and even with her eyes closed she can hear the smile on his lips. 

She laughs quietly, “Then we’re even.”

Viktor pulls back and when she looks up at him she sees his beautiful eyes are like molten gold, wide open and vulnerable. He reaches out to brush some of her hair out of her face, and then ducks down and leaves an almost possessive kiss beneath her ear that sends shivers straight through her. 

“Wasn’t there something you planned to do to me, now that we’re behind closed doors?” He whispers. 

“Many things.” She responds eagerly, “Why? Was there something you planned to do to me?”

He chuckles against her throat, “Many things.” he repeats. 

Viktor follows enthusiastically when she grabs him by the hand and leads him back to her bedroom, more enthusiastically when she encourages him to sit on the edge of her bed and she swings a leg over both of his. His lips return to hers in a fervour, arms wrapping around her impossibly tight. She moans aloud when his tongue meets hers, and again when his hips buck up underneath her. Her hands leap up to the collar of his shirt, shakily undoing the buttons, “I’m glad you put your clothes back on.” She breathes, kissing along the length of his prominent collarbone when the fabric drops away, “I’ve always wanted to take them off you.”

Viktor’s head lolls back in a whine when she sucks a pretty purple mark at the join between his shoulder and neck. It’s the most significant sound she’s ever heard, she catalogues it, makes a mental note to remember the exact pitch for later. She hasn’t touched music composition in years now, too entangled in Hextech and in Viktor , but she’d like to write something with that note in it, to immortalise him, to hear him forever. The shirt slides down his shoulders and she’s delighted to find that the flush on his cheeks also runs down to his chest and up to his ears. 

“Now what are you doing?” He asks, teasing, as she drops to her knees between his legs 

She rests her head on his thigh, the way she always does, but this time her hands reach up to undo the fastenings on his trousers, “Helping.” She responds coyly, grabbing the waistband of his pants and undergarments in one go, “Lift up for me?” He blinks for a moment, “Oh, ah, yes. Of course.” 

Her eyes are drawn back to his augmented leg the moment it is revealed again. The glow of it, the elegant replication of musculature, golden rings encircling it in all the spots she remembers his brace once being. When she peers up, she notices Viktor intently looking at her, head tilted to the side. 

“Does it…bother you?” He asks, stilted, nervous. 

She smiles and shakes her head, “It’s you, how could it?” she kisses the criss-cross of metal at his knee, “Do you feel that?” His brow creases, “Not precisely .” he says, “It’s ehh more pressure, than sensation.” “Okay, then.” She brings her hand up underneath his thigh, rubbing firmly from behind his knee all the way up to the crease where his thigh meets his pelvis, “Do you feel that? ” A strangled moan escapes him and his head lolls forward in a nod, “Yes, acutely .”

That knowledge cemented, she rises up on her knees, rubbing firm circles on the inside of his metal thigh. Enamoured with the odd, synthetic warmth it emanates, the ambient hum she can feel under her palm. Her other hand slides up his flesh thigh, over the prominent bump of his hipbone and to the smooth plain of his stomach. She feels his muscles tense under her hand. They tense some more when she offers a tentative lick to the head of his cock. His breath quickens above her, one of his hands coming to rest on the back of her head and he chokes when she actually takes him into her mouth, his fingers digging tight into her hair. She bobs her head and his hips buck once, shallow and without thought. One of those foreign expletives she’s gotten used to hearing escapes his mouth and she notices that his other hand is fisted in the sheets. 

He’s so pretty. Chest heaving with panting breaths, throat bobbing as he tries not to moan. It feels a little bit like desecration, unravelling him like this. She moans around him, breathing in deep through her nose as the head of his cock meets the back of her throat. He’s babbling, she likes that. 

“ Milackú ” He breathes, and then translates, “ Darling .”

She’s overwhelmed, the feeling of him warm in her mouth, the incessant electrical hum of his leg, the way he whispers and hisses sweet things through his teeth for her all for her. The hand she has on his stomach slides off to the side grabbing his where it is fisted in the sheets, interlocking their fingers as she starts moving her head at a more consistent rhythm. Viktor is panting desperately above her, hips twitching and writhing and she can hardly believe that she is the one doing it to him. Tears bead in her eyes when he slips down the back of her throat and the tip of her nose presses against his pelvis. His hand grips hers so tightly that her fingers start going numb and when she slides her mouth back up, fully intending to go all the way back down again, Viktor holds her head still urging her to stop

“As much as I am enjoying myself.” He slurs, voice thick and unfathomably rich, “There’s more I would like to do with you.” While she would have been content languishing with the warmth of him inside her throat for at least another hour. She does as asked, releasing his cock from her mouth with a lurid pop and wiping the saliva from her chin with the back of her hand. Viktor quickly encourages her to get back on top of him and she lets out a breathless little giggle when he falls backwards onto the mattress and pulls her down with him. Their lips meet again, though the kiss is more languid, explorative. He likes when she sucks on his lower lip and she likes when his tongue traces her upper row of teeth. There is still a lot to learn, to research . He is by far her favourite area of study, truly the only methodology able to hold her attention. She could spend years like this, his thighs trapped between both of hers, his warm and perfect mouth slotted against her own. Kissing and kissing and kissing . 

Suddenly he grips her by the shoulders and pushes off the bed with his augmented leg to flip them both over, her breath escapes her lungs in a gasp when her back hits the mattress, and again when Viktor slots his lips against the side of her throat. He alternates between kissing and sucking on her skin, all the way from behind her ear and down to her shoulder and a wash of pleasure zaps down between her thighs when she imagines what a lovely shade of purple her neck must be now. 

His hand reaches for the hem of her shirt, and he removes his mouth from her skin just long enough for him to ask, “May I?” “You can do anything you’d like to me.” She breathes, breath catching when his teeth nip at her neck, “You don’t have to ask.”

Viktor hums thoughtfully, lifting his head to meet her eyes, “That’s an awful lot of permission you’re giving me.”

“It’s mine to give, isn’t it?” She replies, craning her head up to press a soft kiss to his lips, “I trust you to use it wisely.”

He lets out something a little bit like a moan, resting his weight back on his knees so that he can use both hands to slowly push the fabric of her shirt up. His hands press to her sides as they move, lingering against her bare waist, holding her tightly, before continuing up and over her chest. She arches up instinctually, whimpering at the feeling of his large hands holding her ribs between them. Viktor’s pupils are blown wide, leaving only a sliver of beautiful gold around the circumference of them like the sun eclipsed by the moon. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and his brow pulls tight for a second. 

“You don’t need to ask, Viktor.” She teases, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. 

He chuckles a little, “Why have you always been so good at reading my mind?”

The wanton arch of her spine gives him enough room to easily get around to the back of her brassiere and undo the clasps. It’s tossed to the floor a second later, replaced by Viktor’s mouth on one side and his hand on the other. The moan that escapes her comes from somewhere deep in her throat, it’s almost a howl . Viktor responds to her moan with one of his own, and she can feel the vibration of the sound around her sensitive nipple, it makes her back arch, desperate to get further into his mouth. Literally and figuratively, she wants him to consume her. If she really could read his mind, she would have begged him to take his fill of her so long ago. His fingers pinch her other nipple hard enough to make her yelp, but the sound quickly devolves into a moan once the surprise subsides. 

His mouth moves, then, his fingers continue plucking at and circling her nipple as he begins slowly kissing his way down her sternum, stopping just above the waistband of her skirt. Her breath is coming quickly now. Viktor doesn’t feel the need to ask as he slides the fabric up and over her hips, nor does he feel the need to before he sucks a purple mark to the inside of her thigh. Her resounding moan is loud enough that she has to clap a palm over her mouth to quiet the sound. 

Viktor peers up at her from between her thighs, she can’t see the lower half of his face, but his eyes are crinkled in a smile, “That won't do.” He says mischievously, “You are about to make a lot of noises.” he kisses her thigh, “And I would like to hear them all.”

She feels a pang of arousal in her gut and suddenly finds it difficult to swallow, “Confident, are we?” she says, though her shaky voice makes it sound a whole less teasing than she’d hoped. 

“In this area?” Viktor replies, “Absolutely.”

He doesn't need to ask for her to raise her hips, the moment she feels him grabbing for the waistband of her undergarments she already has them in the air. He lets out a shaky breath as the fabric slides down her legs and then chuckles as she struggles to shake it off her left ankle. For the first time, it’s him resting his head on her thigh, the hand on her breast sliding down to cup around the base of her ribs, thumb tracing the bone where it rests beneath her skin, “have you imagined this?”

“I-” she swallows, certain that he can feel the race of her heart beneath his hand, “I have, many times.” Viktor hums, his other hand moving between her thighs, rubbing just one knuckle over her sex, so gently that it makes her shiver, “So have I.” he replies, a single finger now pressing between her folds and moving in one swipe up from her entrance to her clit, “Sometimes like this, sometimes with you on top of me.” His voice stays remarkably steady, but she does catch a shake in his next exhale. She watches with something bordering on reverence as he lowers himself to rest on his forearms, his next breath ghosting across the wetness of her sex. 

“Let me give you everything I’ve ever wanted to give you.” He breathes, and then descends. 

Even the first languid swipe of his tongue is enough to have her tangling a hand into his hair, her legs hiking up, heels digging into the mattress. Viktor hums against her, one hand still holding tightly by her ribs, the other now rubbing soft circles around her entrance with his pointer finger. It’s just enough that she can feel it, enough that it’s frustrating he isn't giving her more. She whimpers when he gives her clit a firm lick, her hips stuttering up towards his mouth and then nearly sobbing when he returns to softly lapping at her instead of keeping his tongue where she craves it. 

Then his finger finally penetrates her, only to the first knuckle, but with how sensitive and wet she already is, it’s enough to have her tugging hard on his hair. Viktor grunts against her, so she loosens her grip in a panic. He laughs, “No need to be gentle on my account.” she gasps when he pushes the finger in the rest of the way, “In fact, I’d prefer if you didn’t.” 

That thought sends a bolt of arousal coursing through her, she licks her dry lips and releases a shaky breath, “Then I won’t.” She pants, curling his hair around her fingers and using the grip to yank his face further into her cunt. Viktor lets out an utterly salacious moan and rewards her by pressing a second finger inside. His fingers are long and dextrous, thin enough that she feels the ridge of each knuckle when he slowly begins sliding them in and out of her at an utterly tortuous pace. She can’t stay still, one hand fisted into her bedsheets and the other with a white knuckle grip in his hair. Her body feels like a coiled spring, unbearable tension locks all her joints, tendons and muscles, unsure whether the feeling is too much or somehow not enough at the same time. 

A third finger joins the first two without complaint, it slides in so completely and all at once that she barely notices the intrusion at first. It’s only when Viktor moans against her and mutters, “You take my fingers so easily…” that she becomes aware of the additional stretch. He had been right about her making lots of sounds, there is a ceaseless babble of moans and whimpers and half-formed words escaping her lips at every confident thrust of his fingers. Her hips move of their own volition, her throat is starting to hurt from her own panting breath. The coil in her belly grows tighter and tighter, warmth blooming out from her centre all the way out to her toes and fingers, the slick sounds of his fingers sliding inside her, curling up in just the right way to make her sob, his moans vibrating against her overly sensitive clit. It’s so much, it’s nearly too much. She doesn't even think she wants to finish, she wants to stay hovering suspended in this moment forever, the feeling of his hair between her fingers, the sound of his voice, he could keep her trapped here for all eternity and she wouldn't even have the sense to complain. 

Viktor has other ideas, pressing his fingers firmly inside her, lips encircling her clit and the hand on her torso sliding up to circle her nipple. The climax hits all at once, her spine curling up off the bed in a trembling arch. The euphoria is so exact, so precise that it almost hurts and her head tosses back in an utterly sinful moan. Viktor continues his ministrations between her legs, slower, helping her come back down gently instead of with an abrupt shock. When he notices the tension leave her limbs, he presses a slow kiss to the inside of her thigh and rises back up on his knees, wiping the lower half of his face with the back of his hand. She gets that feeling again, that she is lying in prostration before the face of divinity. Viktor certainly looks the part, the dim lighting in her dorm catches on his high cheekbones, his collarbones and his leg emits a purple light that casts a gentle wash across his pale skin. She likes looking up at him, likes him looking down at her. It’s as though it is destined, a tapestry woven between the two of them, that he will stand tall and she will be honoured to kneel at his feet. The feeling only breaks when his breath starts to wheeze. 

It startles her back to reality and she scrambles up to her knees, resting her hand on his upper arm as her eyes dart over him in a panic, “Viktor…I’m sorry, are you- are you alright?”

He coughs into his elbow and that only makes her more worried. There’s no blood this time, thankfully, “I’m fine.” He replies tersely. 

The leg doesn't fix everything, she remembers. His lungs are still fighting against him and his spine is unused to so much strain without the support of his brace. He doesn’t want her pity though, that’s never what he wants and she knows that. So she gives him a coy smile instead, leaning in towards his ear and whispering, “You said something about imagining me on top of you, didn’t you?” He laughs, it’s more of a rasp than she would like, but she still loves hearing it, “I know what you’re doing.”

“I’m not doing anything right now, that’s exactly the problem.” She replies, leaving a trail of kisses down the side of his neck, “Care to change that?” Viktor concedes, kissing her temple before moving to the other end of the bed, leaning himself up against the pile of pillows at the headboard. He looks very pretty with his pink cheeks and kiss swollen lips, even though she can still see and hear his breath rasping behind his ribs, “I will not be convinced so easily next time.” He says slowly as she climbs on top of him, tilting his head up to press his lips to the underside of her jaw, “ Next time , I will give you everything you deserve.” Her heart thrums, beating to the rhythm of next time, next time, next time . There’s a significance to that phrase, that they will find a way to cure him and that once they do he will have her, in every way he has ever wanted. A giddy little smile toys at the corner of her lips as she reaches between her legs to help angle herself over him, “Only if you let me return the favour.” A gasp punches out from his lungs when she takes the first inch of him and he pants, “It sounds like it will be an incredibly long endeavour, then.” “I hope it will.” She replies, letting out a long moan as he slips the rest of the way inside her, “A few days at least.” Viktor has his eyes squeezed shut, but still manages to laugh, “How ever will we get time away from the lab for this proverbial gauntlet?” She loops her arms over his shoulders, breath catching as she moves her hips, “We could always do some of it in the lab.” Viktor sputters and she swears that she feels him pulse inside of her, “That would be unsanitary.” She rocks her hips again, fully this time, relishing in the blissed-out whine that escapes his mouth, “Oh? And I thought the idea might have appealed to you.” she leans in close, pressing a single kiss to his open mouth, “Viktor…” she whispers, “Have you been imagining it?”

His hips stutter upwards into her and she lets out a shocked whine at the feeling of his cock suddenly pressing deeper . Viktor’s throat bobs and he replies, “ Constantly .” his next breath sounds more like a moan, and when his eyes meet hers they are hooded and lecherous , “Though it would still be unsanitary.”

“We can figure something out, I’m sure.” She tilts her head down breath ghosting over his lips as she whispers, “Later, though.” and then presses their lips together in an addictive, luxurious, open-mouthed kiss. Both of Viktor’s hands jump to her waist as her tongue explores his mouth, gasping loudly when she finally starts moving her hips in earnest. It’s barely even a kiss, just a thoughtless press of tongues and lips as she struggles to maintain a consistent rhythm. He feels utterly divine inside of her, the stretch has her moaning and whimpering with every roll of her hips, desperate to feel him deeper, faster . 

She whines when Viktor pulls his lips from hers, and then again but louder when he moves his mouth to her breast instead, sucking, biting and swirling his tongue in equal measure as she rides him. It hasn’t been long since her orgasm, so everything is so desperately sensitive and wet, even the sounds are deliciously perverse. She can hear Viktor’s breath huffing against her chest, his hands are clutching to her so tightly that she thinks- no, she hopes that she will have bruises come morning. The idea of that, the possibility of a permanent mark left by his fingertips, five perfect prints spread out across her skin. It’s enough to make her moan all on its own. 

Then, with one of those foreign curses jumping out from between his clenched teeth, Viktor digs the heel of his adamantine leg into the mattress and uses the force to thrust up into her hard and deep. He hits exactly where she needs him to, her head tossing backwards in a blissed-out moan as he fills her so completely. Viktor is a quick study. Once he realises he is now capable of doing that , he keeps doing it, languishing in slow and torturously deep thrusts that leave her a writhing mess on top of him. He grunts, tilting his head up and wrapping a hand around the back of her head to press their foreheads together, “How does that feel?” 

“It’s - ahh!” He cuts her off with another thrust, “It’s perfect, you’re perfect. Ahh! Viktor, please, I-” This time she is cut off by his other hand sliding around to the front of her, his thumb rubbing small quick circles over her already sensitive clit, “I love you.” she blurts, devoid of any of the sense that might have stopped the words from escaping. She’s held them for years now, somewhere in the depth of what are we, clamped tightly behind her teeth but always on the tip of her tongue and now that they’re out it's like an onslaught, she can’t stop them, “I love you!” she exclaims, hips stuttering forward into his hand, grinding down onto his cock. Tears are beading in her eyes, from pleasure, from emotion, “I love you, I love you!” both her hands reach up to cradle Viktor’s cheeks and his expression is soft, his brows lifted and his mouth hanging open in awe as if he can’t believe she is even there. He clutches her tighter, his forehead dropping to rest on her shoulder, the two of them now pressed together from collarbone down to waist. His thumb doesn’t cease its ministrations, his hips still pump up into hers, but the pace has changed, it’s languid, adoring. 

“ Milackú” he nearly sobs into her shoulder, “I love you too.”

His echo of her own confession is what does her in. She clutches to him tightly, arms wrapped around his shoulders as the rolling of her hips grows loose and rhythmless. She’s burning up, she's turning to stardust and returning to the cosmos. Her voice catches in her throat on a broken sob of his name, the slick rub of his thumb never ceasing, she buries herself in him as best she can, crying out as the pressure releases with a burst, holding him so tight she can’t tell where he ends and she begins. In the midst of that, her tightness, her all around him, Viktor finds his own end. Tumbling over the edge with a cry of her name, arms wrapping fully around her middle. 

Time seems to slow again. There is nothing more than their intermingling breaths, the smell of sweat and of sex, and the sound of their rapid heartbeats. Sometime later, they separate, though time feels liminal and strange, so it’s hard for her to remember exactly when. She goes to the bathroom, she cleans up, and at some point, Viktor does the same. He returns to her bed, though, and that’s the important part. He smiles as he climbs in under the sheets, scoots over to her and presses a soft kiss to her temple. She tucks some of his hair behind his ear and relishes in the fact that she is allowed to see him so close, close enough that she can count his eyelashes, and see his crooked teeth when he smiles again. 

“What now?” She asks, stroking her thumb over his cheekbone. 

He turns his head to the side, pressing a kiss to her palm, “We work on the Hexcore, we talk some sense into Jayce and then we make the world a better place.” She laughs, “Lofty expectations as always.” “Eh, what can I say? I’m a scientist.”

Her lips meet his in a gentle kiss, “Just sleep for now, we’ll work everything out in the morning.”

Viktor laughs quietly, his arm resting gently over the dip of her waist and his eyes fall closed. She doesn't even try falling asleep yet, instead she just watches, enamoured with him, in love with him. She traces her fingers over the bare skin of his arm, watching his face as he finally settles into a deep sleep. It’s been a long time since she last saw him sleep without his brows pinching tight, without him grinding his teeth, but for once, he seems completely at peace. She smiles. He looks perfect in her sheets, brown hair tousled over her pillowcase and the light of the moon painting him completely luminescent. 

They would figure out the next step together, the Hexcore would solve all of their problems and they would have each other forever. She leans forward and presses a kiss to his temple, she wants to worship him, to subjugate herself for him, to let him use her to climb wherever he needs to reach. What they are is inexorable, two souls, spirits and bodies that cannot be untangled, an evangelical coalescence the way she always dreamed. Where he goes she will follow, unthinking, subservient. Her hand shakes with the significance of what they have become, what they will be, as she gently holds his perfect face in her palm. 

What aren’t we? She wonders as she slowly falls asleep. 

[bunnyreaper]

come crawling

kinktober 7 - stuck in a wall

(18+/mdni stepcest, dubcon/noncon)

Deployments are always long and hard for Johnny--especially without his favourite little step sister to take care of him. You've been ignoring his calls and leaving his texts on read, anytime he tries to reach out to you for relief.

All he has had to rely on is some old pictures and videos he has of him filling you full of sticky cum, or painting your face with ropes as he makes you stick your tongue out and smile for him--back when you weren't such a fucking brat.

The second he arrives back at your parents, he's hoping for a hero's welcome--his pretty little sister in a skimpy outfit giving him a warm smile and tight hug. Instead you're fixated on your phone, giggling and smiling for someone who isn't him, and his blood fucking boils.

His ma and your father at least greet him with the warmth he expects, but you don't even acknowledge his existence.

"She's always texting that boy she's talking to." Your dad explains with a clap to Johnny's shoulder. "Don't take it personally, son."

"Oh aye, boy?" Johnny asks, hoping to draw your attention so he can learn more about whatever fucking unworthy prick has got his hands all over you while Johnny is away. If it is even real, and not just part of one of your bratty schemes.

Clearly Johnny hasn't been firm enough with you lately, or showed you just who you belong to. You're long overdue a fucking lesson. Johnny's palm is already itching to make your pretty little arse red raw, but for now you all have to play happy families, and pretend like the two of you aren't entangled in a filthy, forbidden back and forth.

Throughout dinner, you barely put down your phone, and as soon as your meal is complete, you excuse yourself to your room, explaining that you're oh so tired. Johnny sees right through it, but he bites his tongue, intent on paying you a visit later that night and finally giving you the reminder that you so clearly need.

When he finally makes his way to your room, his knock goes ignored. He shouldn't be surprised, but his jaw ticks anyway. His hand starts to shake as he goes to knock again, before he decides to just wrench the door open and force his way inside. You won't ignore him any longer, he won't allow it.

What he sees shouldn't take him by surprise--you, trying to sneak out of your fucking window, presumably to see that boy you've been texting.

Johnny is over in an instant, startling you as the window slides back down and traps you between it and the sill.

"Help me, Johnny!" You cry out, squirming and trying to free yourself from the awkward, revealing position.

You feel your step-brother approach, feel the warmth of his body as he presses himself against you.

"Oh lass, I'll help yer alright." His hands rove over your waist, following your curves down to the bottom of your teeny tiny skirt, which he flips up in favour of grabbing fist fulls of your arse. "Such a pretty sight. Where d'ya think yer going?"

You try to kick out your legs to wriggle free, but Johnny is stronger, he's a soldier, and you've never been able to fight back. "Let me go, Johnny, you sicko!"

He moves back slightly so his knuckle can brush over your exposed panties, his finger nudging against your rapidly swelling clit. "If I'm a sicko, why are you so wet, bonnie?"

The finger hooks your panties aside, as his other hand comes to stroke through your wetness. "I think yer just as sick as I am."

His touch forces moans out of your throat, ones you can't hold back, before he withdraws. You hear the jingle of his belt and the rustle of his jeans, and before you know it he's plunging his length straight into your needy hole.

"Not going anywhere, not when I'm right here tae take care of you." His hips start to thrust, driving his cock deeper inside you and fucking away any and all resistance you've been building up over the past few weeks.

All this time you were kidding yourself, thinking you could go without Johnny's touch, go without his cock. No one can take care of you like he can.

As he pushes against that spot inside you, you have to clamp a hand around your mouth to stifle the moans, to make sure your parents don't get to find out about yours and Johnny's special relationship.

His hand smacks down on the flesh of your behind, the sound cracking in the cool night air alongside the slick sounds of skin against skin--the two of you giving in to your forbidden addiction.

Johnny stills for a moment.

"I'm gonna grab yer phone, and you're gonna give yer little boyfriend a ring and tell him you won't be coming out to play." He smacks your arse once more when you don't immediately respond. "Understood?"

"Yes, Johnny!" You whine, hole clenching around nothing as he pulls out. He's gone only for a few moments, returning as he pushes open the window and sets the phone against your face as he pushes his cock back inside and captures your reaction.

"Go on, tell him how good yer getting fucked by me."

[ryutaria]

Tears and Hearts

Synopsis: With Al Haitham by (Y/N)'s side, she would never have to navigate parenthood all alone...Not when his daughter loved his comfort...

Word Count: 3.5k+

Tags: alhaitham x f! reader, comfort, postpartum depression, sfw, Acting Grand Sage Al Haitham, married life, domestic comfort, a teeny tiny CyoNari, father! Al Haitham, parenthood.

A/N: Comfort because we need it.

A prevalent serenity prevailed over the city as the stars twinkled in the distant skies, faint balls of luminance enchanting to the onlookers' eyes. Darkness had engulfed the world just a few hours ago: rendering the mortal beings to seek solace in the street lamps and artificial mechanisms of luminance invented by the research scholars a long time ago. However, as the sands of the hourglass trickled down the ampule, the city dwellers began to retire to their own residences rendering the streets isolated albeit a few birds who could only hoot freely when the world was at peace yet again.

This was only a natural routine for the world, the moon chased the sun yet they never met unless the eclipse aligned them. However, (Y/N) found her calmness in these small things. The little things in everyday life that are taken for granted by so many... and appreciated by only a few. These things seldom mattered for researchers and scholars of the Akademiya, but as a decorated Professor of Rtawahist Darshan, (Y/N) understood the difference between living and surviving... existence. Moving away from the windowsill of her husband's study, her eyes trailed towards the clock on the mantelpiece: a pretty little vintage clock in the form of an hourglass.

12:17 - read the clock.

(Y/N) smiled as she remembered Kaveh who had gifted it on her second anniversary

"It's so pretty Kaveh!" (Y/N0 exclaimed as she hugged the piece closer to her heart much to the dismay of her husband.

"I got it from one of my expeditions in the desert you know. It -"

"It's just a time tracker (Y/N)." And there goes her husband, the ever logical and very rational Al Haitham as he huffed at Kaveh.

And that was the beginning of another teenage quarrel between the two and she couldn't help but giggle. Time sure flied... Here she was now: Married to Al Haitham for five years as she wore the Nagadus emerald studded platinum loop proudly on her ring finger. Recently there had been another addition to their household, a miniature Al Haitham although a girl child who had turned two months old just a week ago. Another reason why she couldn't resume her scholarly duties yet for the newborn needed attention and care and even when Al Haitham had insisted to help she had told him not to worry for (Y/N) was confident she could handle their little one alone.

"But aşkım I could help" Al Haitham said as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear tracing her cheek.

"I'll be fine 'Haitham..." (Y/N) called endearingly as she slowly engulfed his larger hands in her much smaller ones.

However, little by little, all the chores were making her stressed and anxious, the post partum depression in full effect. (Y/N) had been a good mother of course but all the tiredness of household chores and looking after the newborn who wouldn't calm down unless Al Haitham held her was making her all the more agitated. If he was busy or not available she would have to resort to talking to her about Al Haitham's adventures and past shenanigans. Another reason why she was awake in the dead of the night when all the citizens of Sumeru had hit the hay for the day...

The postpartum depression only further added onto her stress for her hormones wouldn't remain stable no matter how much she tried. (Y/N) had asked Tighnari for the medicinal herbs to control them of course but...

"Only if it's very urgent okay, or I am telling Al Haitham what you've been doing" Tighnari scolded, his ears twitching in frustration as he thrusted the herbs in her hand. "They're harmful in the long run you know" he added, concern clear in his eyes.

"Thank you 'Nari... I'll tell him eventually..."

"You said that last time too" Cyno peeked up behind Tighnari, bed hair and a cup of coffee in his hand. This made (Y/N)'s and Tighnari's eyes widen as he quickly turned away from his lover to glare at (Y/N).

"You were WHAT?!" And (Y/N) giggled awkwardly as she sighed.

"That's it! I'm telling the sage what his wife has been doing behind his back!" Tighnari said marching towards his home before (Y/N) grabbed his arm.

With empty promises and white lies she still managed to convince the Chief Forest Ranger to keep his lips sealed, glaring at Cyno when he wasn't looking. The Mahamatra who had been quietly observing the exchange from behind lover slowly giggled as he started to move inside before-

"Only THIS time! You hear me? And WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU ARE GOING HUH? YOU DARE GIVE OFF HERBS JUST BECAUSE I TAUGHT YOU ?!" and Cyno was quick to retreat inside the house with Tighnari hot on his heels.

And (Y/N) was sighed in relief as she made her way towards her home praying to the Archons that her daughter would still be asleep at Nilou's.

However, she wouldn't tell this to Al Haitham for (Y/N) knew how taxing his life had recently become. What with the overthrowing of Azar, the restoration of Lesser Lord Kusanali and Al Haitham being promoted to the rank of Acting Grand Sage was already hectic enough for him. Nilou was only aware how many evenings, (Y/N) had broken down and cried on her visits to the Haitham household.

"Just tell him (Y/N), it would be much better that way " the red-head consoled (Y/N) as she stroked her hair to comfort her.

(Y/N) pulled away a little as she shook her head in the negative, wiping away her tears as she hiccupped a little.

"Can't" she chocked. "Can't add onto his stress Nilou" and she broke down again as her friend hugged her again - closely as her shoulders shook with her hiccups. "Don't...wanna...be...burdensome"

And Nilou felt defeated. Only then she wished that her dearest friend would break down in front Al Haitham just so he could know what she was going through. Al Haitham needed to know this no matter how carefully (Y/N) hid the stress behind her eyes.

She slowly made her way to the nursery to find her daughter asleep and she sighed in relief. Maybe she wouldn't need the herbs anymore, after all she had run out of supplies just a day ago. The little emerald on her daughter's chest glimmered in the moonlight as she breathed in peace and that was enough solace for (Y/N), unaware of the turmoil that was waiting to erupt again.

Al Haitham had come home just two hours ago, his voice devoid of any life as he greeted her and she knew that the Acting Grand Sage was tired. She took the off-coat off his tired shoulders as he slowly entered the kitchen for she insisted him not to go to bed on an empty stomach.

"It's not healthy 'Haitham..." she had called as she kissed his cheek lovingly. Nevertheless, she felt a little guilty on the inside, for what she was doing wasn't healthy either..."Just a little, yeah?" and he had leaned further into her touch as he nuzzled his nose in her palm.

"Only if you feed me, aşkım..." and she smiled as he told her how tiring it was to be the Grand Sage.

"Acting Grand Sage" he had corrected (Y/N) and she laughed as she fed him another bite of the meat stew. And then he had retired to bed, too tired to turn off the lamps and she had sighed before kissing him 'Good Night' as she put out the light.

(Y/N) had just gotten done with all the chores: the laundry, the dishes - a little crying as she hurried off to feed their daughter- putting out clothes in the backyard for she had faith they would be dry by the morning (It had been a little windy all day),dusting through Al Haitham's study: a weekend ritual for it was Friday. After admiring the night view from the window in her husband's study she had walked to the nursery to make sure her daughter was still asleep, sighing in relief for she still was... breathing in calmness with her (E/C) eyes closed and her ashen-hair splayed across the cot.

And now that (Y/N) was thinking of a warm bath to wash off the sweat and dust from her body, her eyes widened as they darted to the cot. Her daughter had stirred awake, throwing another teary tantrum as she quickly reached for her daughter in the cot for she knew Al Haitham was a light sleeper and she wouldn't wish to disturb his peace.

Taking the child in her arms, (Y/N) gently cooed at her, cradling her by the window as she pointed at the stars and moons and little trinkets in the nursery. And slowly (Y/N) started narrating the incident when Al Haitham had forgotten his keys at her home.

"Uncle Kaveh hadn't come home and your father had to sit at the - Aww sweetie, no~~"

The wailing started again as the child's eyes teared up and (Y/N) rocked her a little in her arms praying to the Archons for her to quieten down. And before she knew tears started pricking her own eyes...

Al Haitham could hear the little noises in his household, washing away his sleep as he yawned. Turning to his left he frowned when he was greeted by the cold pillows. "(Y/N)?" he called getting up to sit as he yawned and stretched his arms. Turquoise eyes followed the window and he realized that it was the middle of the night. He could see a faint glow in their bedroom and he realized that (Y/N) must be in the nursery.

The ashen-haired male sighed yet again as he got down from the bed. It had now become a nightly routine for him to wake up in the middle of the night to find (Y/N) in the nursery and when he had asked why she hadn't been sleeping early enough she would lie through her teeth and he frowned again for he didn't know why.

"What do you mean? I just woke up 'Haitham" she had told him a few days ago and Al Haitham could clearly see her lying. When on further coaxing (Y/N) repeated the same thing, he left the topic for he didn't want to agitate the young mother any further, their daughter asleep in his arms. He could see how tired she looked and he wondered if (Y/N) had been taking care of her basic needs. Dark circles decorated (Y/N)'s face as she leaned on the windowsill, her body looking frail and he knew she had lost weight, the stress piling up on her. Skipped lunches and late night dinners proof enough for him.

Al Haitham didn't want to coax out a confession for he had already been warned about postpartum depression and thought that she would eventually talk to him...at her own pace...

Nevertheless, here he was yet again awake by the small noises of his crying daughter and he followed into the nursery. However the sight that greeted him was all the confession he needed.

Tears streamed down (Y/N)'s face as she sobbed and hiccupped while cradling the newborn, occasionally wiping her eyes as she cradled and pleaded to their daughter.

"Please sweetie...j-just th-this time please..." she begged as she rocked the infant further, a choked sob flying past her lips.

Al Haitham's eyes widened as he hurried towards his family, taking his daughter in his right arm as he held (Y/N) close to his chest with his left, a zephyr passing by as his daughter and wife cried into his arms and chest. Slowly he rocked their daughter in the stillness of the night, (Y/N)'s chocked sobs echoing through the household as his stroked her hair gently.

Soon enough, the baby was asleep in her father's arms and gently Al Haitham placed her in the cot before taking (Y/N) in his arms as fresh tears flooded her vision yet again

"H-'Haitham..." she whispered as she cried into his arms, pushing her face further into his chest.

"I know aşkım... I know" he placed a kiss on her forehead as his fingers stroked through her (H/C) tresses. Sighing and thanking the Archons that his wife had finally broken down or else she would have never let him know how stressful this was becoming for her.

(Y/N) sobbed quietly all the while Al Haitham held her and when she whispered a small 'I'm sorry', the male frowned as he slowly coaxed her to him.

"I-I couldn't calm h-her and...you wok-"

"No (Y/N)..." He cooed as he held her cheeks, kissing her forehead in reassurance yet again. (Y/N) still sobbed feeling guilty, regret clear in her (E/C) orbs and he hated seeing her tears.

"I knew all along..." and when her eyes widened he told her all about the small nursery he had custom made near his office just so they could be together while he worked at the Akademiya.

"I was the 'Gem of Haravatat' (Y/N), didn't you think I'd notice?" he said as he wiped her tears away with gentle touches. "Semiotics has a lingering psychology to it too... I was just waiting for you to come in terms with your emotions..." and she sighed into his arms yet again, leaning onto his chest as he continued to tell her how he would be on leave for the next few days and when he resumed his duties he would be taking them along to the Akademiya, the arrangements for them customized by Faruzan herself for she was too tired of Nilou complaining to her about his wife's trauma and stubbornness all the time she went to the Grand Bazaar.

And (Y/N) wondered how all the love in her heart was never enough for her husband.

Kissing his daughter for the last time that night, he walked out of the nursery, (Y/N) fast asleep against his chest as he carried her to their room for a good night's rest.

He smiled as he tucked her in before slipping under sheets as he held (Y/N) in his arms that night after a long time. And Al Haitham's world was at peace yet again... The whispers of the winds were the last things he heard before he drifted to a peaceful sleep, his aşkım in his arms.

@teapartyspilled

[eccentricallygothic]

|| Shackles of Love ||

Summary: Your husband Pete reads the epilogue of the book you're on and there's only one way to keep him from spoiling it for you now… 

Pairing: Dark Husband!Pete Brenner | Naive Wife!You.

Disclaimer: I (unfortunately) do not own Pete Brenner. This story contains dark and mature content so browse at your own discretion, please. Minors do not interact.

Warning(s): Soft-dark!Pete Brenner, non-con/dub-con elements, boob play, humping, stockholm syndrome, age-gap, m!dom, f!sub, power imbalance, housewife kink, misogyny, bondage/chaining, brainwashing, choking, teeny bit of overstimulation. 

Note: I contemplated whether to make this dark or not but then said what the hell?! Shorter than usual (I think) because it's been a hot minute.

MASTERLIST

"Aw, thank you, baby." Pete flashed you the million dollar smile that had charmed you so much the first time you saw it that it had directly led to this very moment. 

"Honey~" you sweetly called out to your loving husband in that one tone he adored so much that he preferred you spoke to him in it all the time. "Here~" you held out the mini tray containing a chilled beer and loaded sandwich for him to snack on while he watched some old movie that you were frankly too young to know anything about.

You smiled and turned on your heels to place yourself next to him on the couch that faced the tv, feeling a tiny butterfly flutter in the base of your tummy due to how he patted the spot beside him for you to sit in that dominant way of his. The man could literally so much as breathe and have your whole stomach flip. He had you whipped. 

Not much interested in the rather vintage movie, you turned to your book that you had bookmarked before leaving to make your husband a sandwich because he liked a snack or two with his movies. Your fingers hurriedly turned the pages as you found your chapter, bottom lip moving itself between your teeth in excitement. You had been perfectly engrossed in a particularly thrilling part where a plot twist was unfolding when your husband had ordered- no, requested his craving. 

Why would Pete ever order you outside the bedroom? Pfft, no way. He was a very giving and kind husband who would never disrespect you!

Yes, maybe sometimes he was just a little mean during punishments but it was never not duly deserved. 

It wasn't unfair. Not by a long shot. Pete worked hard for the both of you and your future family throughout the week so you could stay at home in pretty dresses and do whatever you pleased. Your only jobs were to cook, clean and take care of his husbandly needs. 

And that was all!

You weren't the one who had to go out into the scary outside world and deal with all those dangerous people that lurked past the protective doors of your house! Honestly, if it weren't for Pete being such a supportive and devoted husband, you didn't know where you would be right now.  

You would be cold, alone and miserable with no one to protect you. His words from training time faintly rang in your ears.

Pete was right. 

He always was. 

Your love was the only one who meant you no harm and could keep you safe. 

Everyone else had already failed you or eventually would. Even your parents. Because seriously, what guardian is so careless as to take their child to baseball games where the ball could crack your skull open anytime! Honestly, how careless could your father be! Your mother was no different because, what kind of a woman encourages her daughter to have a career instead of teaching her the much needed and important domestic skills so she could keep her future family happy and healthy! Making you risk your precious life by letting you persue a career in law out of all! 

If this wasn't the prime example of the fact that no one except for Pete truly cared about your comfort and safety, you didn't know what was. 

Yes, so what if he had roofied your drink in the bar before taking you to your real home with him? He had only meant well! You had been far too headstrong and stupid a girl back then to know proper manners for someone your gender. But Pete had been very kind. Though you had fought relentlessly in the beginning and attempted to escape the premises of this house that was nothing but love and care, he forgave you for everything! 

How much more wonderful could this man get?! 

Your husband had smiled at every insult, laughed at every injury you had inflicted on his skin and heart, kissed away every tear you had so foolishly shed. 

And then he had taught you proper wife etiquette. 

Honestly, no one had ever bothered to put up with you that much. 

"Honey?" Pete called out to you in a semi-distracted tone, blue eyes still trained on the tv as you stared at the pages in front of you with wide eyes as a realization washed over you. But before you could communicate your thoughts like you had been taught to do so, your husband continued. You hummed for him to go on, mind still stuck on the page. "Want to know something real funny?" 

Obedience had been woven into every fiber of your existence. So you turned your head to look at him with curious eyes after making a mental note to tell him what you had realized just now later. Because Pete always came first. So you had to await your turn.

"Funny?" You tilted your head to the side, one arm looping around his arm as you perched your chin on his shoulder. "Sure, dear! I like funny…" Your nose crinkled a little as you smiled in the way he had taught you. 

A devious smile spread over your husband's lips. "I read the epilogue while you were in the kitchen" it took you a few moments to realize what he was hinting at. He had done it before and the way he finally turned his head to look at you with mischief dancing in his ocean blue eyes, placing the now empty tray on the table in front of the couch, you knew he was about to do it again. 

"No! You didn't!" You squealed as he laughed in the comic typical evil way, tackling you until your back was flat against the couch. "No! Please, honey! No!" You helplessly whined as you shook your head violently, tossing the book open and hurrying through the words. "I am almost at the epilogue! You cannot do this to me!" 

"That's just a shame, isn't it?" The protestant kicking of your feet that rested on his back now caused a clinking sound in the air due to the thick iron cuff enclasped around one of your ankles.

"Noooo! Pleeeeease!" You pouted as his goatee gently pricked your fingertips that were pressing against his mouth in a desperate attempt to quieten him. "Honey, please! I've been a good girl!" That was the reason why you had maintained your reading privileges for three straight weeks at this point. "You're being cruel for no reason!" 

"Aw. Don't you remember?" Prying your fingers off his mouth was no challenge to the older man. "Husbands can do whatever they want whenever they want…" You whined loudly as you ignored the tingle in your nether regions that his dark tone had caused, flipping the page and hurrying through the words, holding the book between your faces. "Okay, soooo… what happens is–"

"Ohmygosh you're so meeeean!" Now your free hand desperately darted to your own body before you fished out one of your boobs from the neckline of your dress. A whimper escaped from your lips when you reached for Pete's nape next before arching your back to further close the gap between your bodies. The action clasped the space of your husband's mouth shut as he hummed against your tender flesh now. 

Pete had this rather mean way (that you didn't actually mind) of torturing you when you were reading sometimes. He would sneakily read from a section way ahead of where you were and then tease you with spoilers until you shoved his mouth with one of your private parts. 

You faintly recalled being heavily opposed to it at one point.

But there was no other way to stop him when he was at this. 

And that was alright because he was your husband who loved you and loved him.

… Right?

"Hmmm~" you softly moaned in the way he liked. His clothed dick instantly stiffened under your pussy like it always did; a confirmation that you had done the right thing. Your hips that were not as securely clad as your husband's began to slowly piston against his crotch, the dress being the only cover for your bottom since you weren't allowed underwear inside the house. Pete liked you accessible 24/7. So he could bend you whenever he pleased over any surface with no hassle. 

It was the least you could do after all that he did for you. 

Your legs tightened around Pete's waist as did his arms around yours. It was crazy to you how easy it was for him to handle your body however he desired since he physically looked more on the lean side. But his strength was no joke, you were nothing but a doll between his fingers.

And the reminder always made your wifey parts quiver. 

"Hmmm… my perfect wife~" Pete's husky grunt caused your holes to clench around empty air as he latched onto your other boob that you had pushed out next. "Such a good slut… knows exactly what I like…" Your brows were furrowed and hands shaky, breaths hitting the paper that you struggled to both hold and read without dropping it on your face. "It's almost as if-" a loud sucking noise erupted in the air when he forcefully pulled his mouth away from your hardened nub, the feeling causing your back to arch as your hips increased their pace. "-As if you were only born so you could be my good little wife, huh baby?" His slightly rough hands were manly and strong against the soft skin of your chest, lips and teeth grazing against your sensitive skin while the goatee caused the tickles that never failed to tip you over the edge. 

"B- Because I was, hubby!" You whimpered submissively as you failed all your attempts to make sense of the words in front of you. Pete had already told you why this was and he was right. 

You were far too simple minded to multitask. 

"What was that?" As his hips started to work against yours, the soft burn of the expensive fabric of your dress rubbing against your throbbing and leaking pussy caused tiny droplets of sweat to form on your temples. The book fell from your hands and on the ground besides the couch at last. 

"I- I was only born s- so I could be your good little wife, hubby!" You cried out as you attempted to sink your nails in his shoulders but your husband beat you to it. 

"That's fuckin' right…" Pete's breaths were heavy as he reached for the chain that connected to your ankle cuff and pulled it upwards. It was locked around a sturdy hook hidden under the living room couch on the other end. Long enough to allow you to move around the house to perform your wifely tasks but not an inch longer to entertain any funny or rebellious– dangerous attempts that could be made while he was out earning your bread and butter. Only Pete had the key that could unlock it. 

You whined loudly when he deprived you from touching him while exposing your aching core in an even more intimate position at the same time by snaking the chain around your wrists and holding both your hands as well as your shackled ankle above your head. 

The new position further distanced your pussy lips as you rubbed your swollen flesh against the soft material of his trousers now, your dress a wrinkled mess in the middle of your body. 

"Mmm… I need you so bad, hubby…" You whispered out, throat dry and face twisted in need and want. "Please…" 

"Do you deserve it, huh baby?" Now he laid out some of the cold chain against your throat with his free hand, lips parted and eyes dark. "Have you been a good wife for me?" 

You vigorously nodded, clenching around air once more as your eyes rolled to the back of your head when he applied pressure to the makeshift leash against your windpipe, the loss of air and realization of the imbalance of power causing you to pant and hump the man harder. 

Pete could do to you literally anything that he desired and you would happily let him just to please him. 

That was your only priority after all; your real duty.

"You're gonna have to use your words, honey…" Your husband released your windpipe as he spoke, causing your back to arch once more to try and breathe better. 

"I… I…. deserve it, hubby. I really do… I've been s- so good… I promise…" Your chest rose and fell as it glistened under the lights due to the tiny beads of sweat coating it along with Pete's saliva. "I- I deserve you~" your last word was a gasp against his lips that he finally smashed against yours, chaining down your windpipe again as he helped stimulate your worked up pussy by moving his own hips in sync to yours. 

You were too close. It was dangerous. You had to break away and ask his permission if you didn't want to get punished. Cumming without Pete's permission was always followed by cruel edging that stretched on for weeks. Your husband was a master at taking you high to the point of utter dumbness only to leave you deprived and trembling at the last moment.

But you liked to kiss him so much…

That and you didn't want him to feel like you were prioritizing your pleasure over kissing him.

That would be such a selfish thing to do!

And good wives were supposed to be giving, understanding, patient and supportive.

It was a dilemma.

But as always, your knight came to your rescue and you knew you could never love him more than you did in this moment. "Cum for me and I'll consider…" It was like he could read your body and boy did you adore him for it.

Your air came back -or rather, was allowed to do so- just as fast as your vision went out when your tense insides finally bloomed open and went crashing over you the barrage of pleasure that had been building up inside of you. You moaned Pete's name along with heartfelt praises as you trembled, hips slowing down to avoid overstimulation as you blinked away the stars in your vision.

Rubbing and humping definitely had their own kinds of orgasms. 

"Atta girl… That's it… Just like that…" Your husband whispered in your ear, his still clothed cock now rock hard against your worked up pussy. "Good girl…" Though he still kept a firm hold on your ankle and wrists, Pete let go of the makeshift leash to reach for your marked boobs that he began to caress. "You feel that, baby?" A soft whine pushed past the pout that formed on your lips. "This is what you do to me…" His voice was strained as he held back a moan, his stiff crotch teasing you now as he let go of your breasts to open his fly.

It was then that it suddenly occurred to you. 

And though you knew from ample experience that it was never pleasant… you had to do the right thing. 

You owed it to your perfect husband. 

"U- Uh, honey…" You hissed out softly, trying to move your hips away from the torturous humping he was still subjecting you to. When Pete didn't respond, you tried again, only this time more timid because you knew too well how he responded to denial and rejection. "D- Darling…"

His nostrils flared as he exhaled loudly in annoyance. "What?" Your bottom lip wobbled at his snappish tone. 

The man of the house did not like to be delayed when he wished to wreck his lady apart. 

"I- I need to tell you s- something…" Pete gave up fiddling with the fly, looking up at you now. 

"And it can't wait?" Your eyes stung when he refused to mend his tone but you told yourself it was because he wanted you so bad that he didn't want anything to come between you two. 

Yes, that was it.

The truth. 

Pete had told you this many times. 

"I- I don't think you would like it…" Averting your gaze from his heated one and training it on his neck, you whimpered out your next words because of how his body had suddenly stiffened against yours. "I- I…" You bit your lip, already heightened heart rate refusing to slow down. Pete appreciated it when you were honest about this, you didn't understand why it was making you feel so panicked and sad.

Hopeless. 

"D- Dangerous memories have been r- resurfacing again…" His tone and expression instantly changed after hearing this. They were darker but less rude now. 

"Oh…" Pete stopped for a few moments to recollect himself. "F- For how long, baby?" 

"D- Dunno… didn't really notice it until I remembered a whole episode from my time in court in the m- morning…" You couldn't help but whimper when you looked back up at him. 

He seemed almost dumbfounded for a second before he spoke. "I see, honey…" Stopping for a few moments, Pete let go of your chains to caress your hair lovingly. "... And… What do we do when that happens, baby?" Your husband's voice was barely above a whisper as he peeked up at you with skeptical eyes. 

"W- We have to go downstairs to fix it so the dangerous memories cannot form any silly ideas in my simple baby mind, hubby…" The man's worried expression changed to one of surprise.  

And then the biggest smile made its way on his handsome face. 

"Aren't the most perfect little girl, huh?" You couldn't help but blush and relax when he went back to being nice.

Disappointed and angry Pete was one you preferred to avoid at all costs. 

"I just love you, hubby…" It came out the way the man had programmed you to say it before you gently pressed your mouth to his. "Wanna please you and make you happy…" Your husband pulled at one of your cheeks lovingly before he peppered soft kisses around your nose, making you giggle from how his goatee tickled your skin. 

"So, then… shall we?" The older looked almost proud and smug as he crawled off of you and undid your ankle cuff, softly caressing the slightly red skin before he offered you a hand to sit up. 

You smiled as you pushed away a rather unfamiliar stinging in your chest, focusing on the man in front of you instead as you took his hand and stood up, naively following him out of the living room and into the basement, hand in hand with your fingers intertwined.

Pete smirked to himself darkly as he turned the dial of the combination lock on the door of the basement cell before opening it for you to step in. He could still remember the time when you used to push all of your faculties to try and override the lock system somehow. 

All that fight to get out only to voluntarily step in with a smile now. 

You were definitely Pete's Magnum opus.

[ciitroner]

i loved your ghoap x reader fic so much omg, was it just a one shot or will there be more to the kidnapper au? 🧡🧡 (also looking forward to keeping up with your blog!)

Thanks xoxo I’m glad you liked it

Ooh I could definitely add more to the kidnapper au if y’all want to!! Here’s a bit of a backstory drabble:)

Part 1 of 3

Wc: ~500

Warnings: nothing really, maybe a teeny tiny bit angsty.

Sigh

Recently fired from your waitress job, you’re slowly becoming short on money - and your landlord isn’t the sweetest guy per se. No other workplace accepts, some leaving sorry messages and others never answering. Maybe you had done something in your previous life to leave you in such a predicament, but it’s nothing you can help now. It starts with selling a few belongings, maybe your favourite mug which soon escalates to an instrument you’d saved up for for a long time, and when it ends in you selling the sofa you decide you’ve had enough. Another frustrated sigh leaves your lips, and you almost throw your phone against a wall, only stopping yourself because of the thought that the repair bill would be way more than you could handle. Around three months after your unemployment is the second time the landlord gives you the warning that he doesn’t like late payments, and by the fourth he’s telling you to get yourself together. As if it’s that easy. The universe isn’t on everyone’s side. By the fifth month, you only have your bed, a dumb vibrator - low on battery, and a few other things here and there.

“Get out as quick as possible, find yourself another place.” He crosses his arms, leaning on the doorframe and staring into your empty apartment from the tiny crack you’ve let out in your front door.

“P-please! I don’t have anywhere else to live. You need- have to understand.” You plead and plead on deaf ears. Words seemingly go in, and quickly get flicked out from the pinky roaming around his ear. He sighs and tells you to leave before two weeks, and closes the door on your face - almost catching your nose in the process.

For the first time in weeks the tears you’ve been holding back to convince yourself that you’re strong start to fall, and soon enough - you’re sobbing on the floor while leaning against your front door. Your eyes sting and the cries that fly out your mouth makes you cringe, pitying yourself even more. Salty tears catch on the corners of your lips and you wish you were anywhere but here. If only… if only. If only you were born a nepo baby, if only you had friends to depend on, if only you had your own Prince Charming to wipe your tears. After a while of sniffling you mutter a “whatever” to yourself, getting up from the fetal position to wash your face.

While washing up, you have a mental debate on whether to call an old friend of yours, and soon enough your phone beeps with each outgoing ring. “Hello?”

She sounds enthusiastic to talk to you after so long and sympathies with you. Explains that you absolutely can stay in the guest bedroom of her and her boyfriend's house until you get your life together again. It feels so long since you smiled, but at the moment - your cheeks hurt, because maybe everything isn’t against you after all. Thank you’s fly out your mouth every other second until you finally say your goodbyes. And well, maybe you could indulge yourself in something nice for once. You decide on a bar, before fixing your makeup and putting on your prettiest dress that you hadn’t the heart to sell.

That was your first mistake.

[celestialdragoncookie]

I made a typo on your new page earlier, and I'm very very sorry, just place 'ours' with a Y alr?

But anyways, here's more ideas! Cuz I love the story :3

So since Dark Choco and Dark Shadow we're sent to the deepest part of the dungeon, I like to think that, Y/N would try to save them once she revived the clan, or maybe try to warm or make sure that they we're alright, but sneaking in and giving foods or supply for them, and since she was immortal cuz she can reborn themselves/herself from the ashes, and I think they/the three brothers don't have to worry Abt her being like gone or die, BUT if her ashes was like... Just separated or flew into the air or something like that, it's a sign that she can... Never be alive or reborn again cuz her ashes.... We're spread into the air unknown redirection or something like that.

And maybe some Phoenix would try to help if she revived them and told the 2 prince sacrifice and stuff what happened, and she's just worried Abt them... And maybe has a teeny tiny crush on... Dark Choco cookie, cuz he seem to truly care Abt her and respect her will and stuff like that, which makes Y/N I bit comfortable with him and likes him like that and maybe will confess if she got them out from the 3 psycho (/ brothers)

But as usual you can choose from whatever you like, but also, you can choose if he accepted her confession or not :3, or whatever you want <D

" From Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust" Yandere Three brothers x Hybrid Phoenix Reader:

From that gaining freedom, all that sacrifice was drained into imprisonment as the two rebellion princes were sent to " Dark Void" a dungeon known for keeping the worst of worst criminals in check and monitored. The security was were much tighter and prisoner guards are active all the time and very much experienced in this field so escaping is very much impossible, not in centuries have a single prisoner had ever escaped not one if so they will have to suffer under extreme torture as warden himself and the guards are sadistic bastards love to play to thier hearts content.

In the darkened prison full of raisin rats, as the once proud respectful princes were reduced to mere pitiful state chained to the broken old cold stone wall, the treatment was no different then prisoners but it was worst as they to endured the continue harassment and bullying of the prisoners including the guards, drunken warden in stress and tired would lash out his rage in torturing them. Their dough is full of marks of abuse and torture, they would vomit as the food and water laced with deadly poisen barely survive. Spending an entire week in that hell seems like a horrible nightmare for them as the cycle continue to spin mocking thier resolve and resistance as a mere wastage of time. One fateful day, passing the same routine suddenly flap of wings could be heard as beautiful glowing fiery feather falls through the broken window illuminated the dungeon, with painful groans he looked up only to see you dressed in cloak to cover yourself up , in your hands is basket full of delicious fruits, snacks and bottles of milk. You gave a shuss action looking around signing in relief and jumped from the window with a silent thud, dusting yourself off looks at the poor state of the two princes your shocked because how could thier father's do something like so horrible especially thier own sons..... Even beasts wouldn't kill thier children. In thier eyes, they are just disposable tools just pawns so they can get what they want how cruel, clutching your fists so hard wiping your tears off before feeding the two hungry princes. During this time it had became a daily routine for you to visit them, patching and cleaning thier wounds feeding them. Unknown to you, your fiery temper, warmth and kindness has reached the cold lonely heart of dark Choco Cookie who would brightened up seeing your smile especially kindness and would always look forward to see your appearance this was notice by Dark shadow milk cookie, looking at his expression he would lightly smile knowing that his innocence dense cousin has finally someone to care and protect.

Meanwhile in the office, as angry roar and trashing of things could be heard as numerous paperworks, important files , pens and documents were flying away as sudden pissed dragon throwing things in hate especially impatient. He angrily growls turning his face towards the shivering guard asked with a pissed off tone " Where is she? Have you find her whereabouts yet?" The shivering relactant whither to tell him the truth or not but his silence was seen as ignoring him which pissed him off again in sheer rage he extended his claw ready to slash as the frightened braced for incoming attack but opened it only to see the king himself dark cacao cookie took the hit instead as the strawberry jam falls on the ground as stunned dark cacao cookie glared at his brother he replied with a colder firm tone " Brother I know your angry but don't force it out Infront of my people got it?". His tone got him surprised he thought the sheer audacity of him he growls slamming the door shut as dark cacao cookie dismissed the frightened guard. He cleans the wounds from his face looks around the trashed office, his purple eyes falls on the picture emblem on the table grabbed it he gently rubbed his finger on the fragile frame of it as his eyes softened with a glint of regret, self loathing especially longing. He stutter every words, mumbling as tears fall freely from his eyes twinkling the broken frame he falls on his knees hugged the picture like it was his lost hope, he continues to cry silently replies full of longing especially loneness " My dear light, my sunshine I couldn't bear to see you disappear when you said your going to hibernate I was devastated which led me to kidnapped an innocent cookie and do unspeakable things to it I am a sinful cookie, I hope you wouldn't pardon me for my sins I am just lost, I don't what to do without you my life is meaningless my dear dragon empress Celestia I miss you my dear queen". He cried alone in the office without anyone comforting him nor hugging him to soath his heart out. Unknown to the crying broken king, someone was outside listening to it as his magenta eyes softened before giving tsk left the grieving king.

Back in the dungeons, it's been days since your last visit dark Choco Cookie was getting impatient because you haven't appears for fulfilled your daily quota as dark shadow milk cookie comforted the paranoid prince. But suddenly the door to the dungeon opened as both of the princes hissed in annoyance as the light nearly blinded them upon recovered they shocked to see the king himself dark cacao cookie looking at him with his usual self, dark Choco Cookie just glared at his monsteroisty of a father. Dark cacao cookie gestured his guards to follow the chained princes outside, upon arriving dark Choco Cookie almost lumped on him but dark shadow stopped him. Dark cacao cookie turned around and falls on his knees asking for his forgiveness which took them off guard dark Choco Cookie glared at his father with amused smile laughs " You monster of a cookie due to thinking I would bye your Soo called acting skills, give up your the worst scumbag I have ever seen". Dark cacao cookie clutching on his fists knowing it would be difficult to ask his forgiveness but suddenly a voice called them out turned towards the source it was you flying in air upon landing you said" I already forgiven him but dark Choco Cookie you should pardon him, his is sincere. Dark Choco Cookie was reluctant but dark shadow milk cookie forgive him along with forcefully pardon, suddenly dark Choco Cookie grasped your hands asked in worry " are you okay are you hurt? Is your wings okay?" Unknown the situation they were in Dark shadow milk cookie looking between them he gave a smirk

" I heard love always win the war, heeeee what a beautiful way to display it hahaha".

Dark cacao cookie just smiles made a teasing tone " Son when are grand kids are coming?". This took both of them off guard you took blushes and move away in embarrassment.

Unknown to the clueless couple, somewhere between the Himalayas deep within the cannoyan of it as an crimson glowing yellow slit eye opens illuminated the darkness as the star marking on it's forehead glows, opening it's jaws numerous fangs could be seen said it tone full of silent rage " Looks like I have to pay " special" visit to dark cacao kingdom don't you think my dear sister?". Camera paused as another eye opens with snowflake like marking on it's forehead glowing blue and one azure baby eye glows as the entire Himalayas shocked due to unknown beings presence.

[britcision]

As promised, part two!

First Chapter:

Part One of this chapter:

————————

So That Just Happened part 2

In the bathroom, Jason turned the hot tap on as high as it’d go and stood over the sink, breathing in the steam. He just… he just needed to clear his head. Get his thoughts straight.

Sleep for the next six fucking weeks and make Pitty someone else’s problem, ideally.

The weight of Frostbite’s gift sat heavy in his pants pocket and he pulled the case out, shaking a single glowing ice chip into his hand. The rising temperature of the bathroom didn’t affect it at all, which didn’t surprise Jason.

He considered putting it under the stream of hot water but didn’t bother.

Frostbite said not to use them too much, or get too dependent on them. On the other hand, fuck today. So much.

He crushed the shard in his hand and shoved the pieces into his mouth. This time it tasted like ozone and limes, and stung the inside of his mouth. In a good way, though.

The rush of energy was the same, and Jason would swear he could feel his frayed edges slowly closing over. Not a real substitute for food or sleep, but sure as hell beat coffee.

He had a couple dozen more ice chips, which he tucked away in the medicine cabinet behind the mirror. The mirror wasn’t supposed to have a cabinet, but it had been easy enough to make one, and so far none of his siblings had found it yet… if they even found this apartment.

(None of them would have been able to resist commenting on the collage he’d made across the back wall of their most “interesting” family photos. Or the little batburger figurines of each of their alter-egos.

Jason had made sure he got the worst ones on the market, and knew their exact positions. If a single one shifted, he’d know.)

It was on the outer edge of Crime Alley, far from the heart his family all expected him to hole up in, and the rest of the building was a completely unremarkable old library which had been abandoned before Jason was born.

Getting himself a well secured home had been easy to slip into the renovation plans; he’d had Bruce “buy” the building through Jason’s funds to start restoring it, keeping it well removed from Red Hood’s name. It was the first project he planned to put his own name on, now that he was officially alive again.

The Catherine Todd Memorial Library.

The building itself wasn’t open yet, the main part of it still being remodelled, but the needle drop off and exchange was already running from the front entrance.

This was home, as much as anywhere ever was. More than anywhere had ever been since Wayne Manor.

Jason tensed against the anger, but nothing rose this time. The ecto-ice had given him a flood of energy, the same almost static clarity, but he still felt drained. Like there was no anger left in him.

It would have been nice if it felt good.

The steam had fogged the mirror now, collecting in the air even against the bathroom’s fan. Shutting the tap off, Jason closed his eyes and sucked in a few more deep, fortifying breaths.

Maybe the ecto-ice had been a mistake. All he wanted to do was fall into bed and sleep, but he wouldn’t be able to for at least a few hours now.

Patrol was out of the question. His body may be revitalized and humming with energy, but his head wasn’t in the game. Even Lady Gotham’s embrace couldn’t pull his scattered thoughts together.

What he needed was some mindless TV, some stupidly indulgent junk food, and a blanket. He’d heard… well, things about the new Sex and the City spinoff. Not exactly good things, but things.

Carrie Bradshaw’s not-problems could be the perfect backdrop to a night in.

Alfred would probably send him cookies if he asked. This being an emergency and all. Although… it wasn’t like they could explain the nature of the emergency without the whole ghost reveal.

… Probably still worth a try though.

His Red Hood phone was still at the safe house he’d slept in, but at least one of his spares for his civilian life should be in the apartment somewhere.

The steam had mostly cleared too, leaving the mirror only slightly foggy around the edges. Jason gave it a careful wipe down out of habit; dots on the mirror didn’t usually bother him, but… he’d put Catherine’s name on the building. He wanted to keep everything in it nice.

(Which was why a lot of stuff was unused.)

It wasn’t until he opened the door that he realized he really hadn’t said anything to Danny before disappearing.

Would he have left? Fuck, that’d be the obvious choice, wouldn’t it? Getting dropped off just inside a stranger’s door, and then they just walk away from you into the bathroom.

Shit, Danny had probably left. That… Jason didn’t know how to feel about that, and the empty hall only confirmed his suspicions.

On the one hand, he really wasn’t up to more talking. He didn’t even want to think about everything that had happened today, and especially not whatever the hell was lose in his city, trying to feed his rage. He couldn’t handle one more gentle reassurance that it was okay to be angry.

On the other hand, he really, really didn’t want to be alone. The noise from the TV and the snacks would cut it in a pinch, but the only thing he actually wanted right now was company. Quiet, nonjudgemental company.

He hadn’t told any of the bats about this safe house. Not even Bruce’s contractors knew he’d snuck it in. He’d wanted it to be safe from them and from everyone else, and now he could keep his fucking secrets at the cost of being alone.

A little heavy handed as a metaphor.

… Fuck, Alfred couldn’t even bring him cookies without knowing where he was.

He turned away from the hall and made for the bedroom to grab the spare phone, though he wasn’t sure who he’d message anymore. Just as he was debating the merits of messaging Cass and getting her to do him a delivery, a noise from the kitchen caught his attention. Hope rose, slowly and uncertainly. Had Danny not left?

… Why was Danny in his kitchen, when he was a self professed fire hazard?

Caution and concern flaring right alongside that hope, Jason backtracked and hurried to the kitchen.

**

There were not enough dirty dishes.

There was like, a mug, a coffee pot, and two plates. Really, Danny should have been done in minutes and fidgeting for something else to do.

But then he’d been looking for where to put the plates away, and he’d found a really impressive spice cabinet. Right next to the stovetop, made sense he guessed, though personally he preferred to keep the damn plates where they’d be used.

He’d perused a couple of labels on the little jars, mildly amused by how many he absolutely could not even guess at. What the fuck was “marjoram”? Or “zataar”?

So the logical thing to do had been open the jars for a sniff.

All well and good. He didn’t recognize most of the smells either, and couldn’t imagine why you’d put almost half of them in any kind of food, but some of them smelled really good.

But then he’d found the garlic powder.

Danny did not cook, as a rule. Sam cooked, mostly from spite, and she always used fresh smashed garlic. Danny’s youtuber chefs mostly said the jarred chopped stuff was fine, but what the fuck was garlic powder?

And what garlic powder was, was pungent. Really, really strongly scented, and super light. Just opening the jar had puffed up a cloud of the stuff, and Danny had been about to sniff it anyway and took a bigger huff than he intended.

And then he’d sneezed.

And now Jason’s entire kitchen was dusted in garlic powder, including the dishes he’d just washed and left on the counter while he found their homes.

So Danny panicked.

Trying to dust the garlic powder off the counters with his hands only got more of it into the air, and he wasn’t falling for that fucking trap again, no sir. He went ghost again and stopped fucking breathing is what he did, then grabbed a garlic covered towel and tried to wipe the powder into a pile.

No dice.

But Danny was a professional superhero. He calmed himself down. He stopped panicking. He went looking for a dustpan and brush like a sensible adult.

And then he heard the bathroom door open, froze like a deer in the headlights, and reflexively jerked straight off the floor.

Because right, he had fucking ghost powers.

At least he already hadn’t been breathing. Luckily, Jason seemed to need something from the other side of the apartment since his footsteps pretty much immediately moved away, and Danny let out another relieved breath.

He could still fix this. This would be fine. He could telekinetically pick up all the garlic dust, and throw it in the trash because a lot was on the floor and the rest was on him and also Every Other Surface On Earth, and buy Jason more tomorrow.

Before Jason came back from wherever else he was going and realized Danny was a fucking menace. Focusing hard, Danny let his aura suffuse the room and focused on the garlic powder. Willed it to lift off whatever it was touching, and come towards him.

Of course, some of it was now on the clean dishes, and in the mug. Which fell over as Danny pulled its powder coating away.

Jason’s footsteps immediately stopped. And then began hurrying towards him.

And maybe Danny panicked again, just a tiny bit, but the good news was he did not ice over the whole kitchen! He’d grown so much since Ghost Puberty Part 2 Electric Boogaloo! He was totally in control!

He just iced the dishes to the counter and froze the floating garlic powder, which was why Jason appeared in the doorway to see Danny floating like a fucking dumbass in the middle of his kitchen, surrounded by sparkling ice crystals.

Danny raised both hands immediately.

“I can explain.”

**

So the thing about Spiderheck. The really big pain in the ass thing. Was that every round was super unpredictable, even when you weren’t playing with superheroes trying to adapt their actual abilities to spider bodies.

There really was no way to know what would be a long or short round.

Tucker had tried a couple more times to “fall” early on, only to be promptly followed by one or both of his fellow competitors.

The good news was, they were at least all tied up for now, so he’d gotten more time without anyone asking questions. The bad news was, it was match point. Whoever took this next one, if they didn’t all tie, it would be time for another set.

Aaaaand Conner and Tim were still having fun, and insisted they were just warming up, but Tucker was sweating anyway. He didn’t even know spiders could sweat.

Ancients, had he actually fucked up using his powers for the first time in years when he was trying to show off for Red Robin and Superboy?

He was going to look like a fucking newb. An absolute amateur.

And that was assuming that no one had come looking for them and noticed the empty room and still going game on the TV. Would Batman think he’d kidnapped Red Robin?

Who was Tucker kidding, he totally would. Bruce was paranoid as hell, and while he mostly seemed to be aiming it at Danny, that was probably because he hadn’t realized Tucker was liminal. Did the GIW even know about liminals? There probably wasn’t much documentation for him to freak himself out about with.

Of course, in this case he wouldn’t be wrong. Tim would be trapped. It’d just be because Tucker was a dumbass, not a malicious force. At least Tim and Conner would almost definitely believe him.

Aaaand he’d never live it down. It was only a matter of time before they both noticed he wasn’t really trying to win anymore too. He’d kept up, but that was mostly by accident. He just had a lot of practice being inside the game levels.

A lot of them could kill all the players on their own, no PVP required.

He felt like an absolute caveman when the answer finally came to him, and it wasn’t even his own idea.

Because the last level had been one of those “kill all the players” levels, and all three of them had managed to be thrown into lava close enough that the computer didn’t count a winner.

Tim and Conner groaned loudly before bursting out laughing, because of course that was what happened at their dramatic finale, and then as they’d spawned in again Tim turned to Tucker.

“Hey, can you pause before we get into this one? I just wanna catch my breath a second.”

Which, for a nanosecond, felt like the absolute end of the world, because he didn’t have his controller buttons. Because he was a dumbass.

Luckily, it also snapped him back to his senses, and reminded him of the very first time he’d put Sam and Danny into a game with him. They’d made the same mistake, not leaving anyone their actual console controls, and Danny had begun trying to actually physically break them out before Tucker worked it out.

They were his fucking powers. He could always pause them, whatever they were doing; all he had to do was close his eyes and blank out for like, a minute.

He’d been collapsing in despair that first time, and Sam had kicked him over, sat on him, and demanded he take a nap, and then they were all back in their bodies like nothing had happened.

Keeping them inside the game was the part that was difficult; it was an act of focus, and sure it felt automatic at this point because he did this all the time now, but it was still something he had to actively do. Sure, technically, he wouldn’t be controlling the game from the inside, but they’d be back in their fucking bodies in the real world.

Where the actual console controls were. And then he could reload them in, and not forget his overrides this time, and everything would be fine.

Luckily, while his brain was techno-linked, he was processing in computer-time, not people-time. There was barely a pause after Tim asked the question and the answer came, tension leaving his body so quickly he almost sagged.

He even sounded a little giddily relieved to his own ears as he answered, laughing and already shutting his eyes.

“Well, kinda. Let me just pop us back out, we should probably check the time too. Hang on.”

Luckily, this stage did not seem to have any instant death traps. Tim and Conner fucked around with the crates and the platforms for a couple of seconds while Tucker reached inside, deliberately pulling his disconnect instead of waiting, and then they were all back on the couch, controllers in hand.

He’d never been so happy to see his own hands. Or the Start button, which he promptly hit to pause all three spiders before Tim and Conner’s could swing to their deaths. Even if that would give him the win.

Tim and Conner shifted beside him, getting used to their bodies again. Tucker took the lead there, setting his controller down and stretching his arms up behind his head, the phantom sensations of extra limbs already beginning to fade.

“It stops feeling weird pretty fast, but it helps if you move around,” he explained brightly, still high on that buzz of relief.

Conner made a noise of agreement, standing and stretching his arms over his head, which made his shirt ride up. Tucker had the good sense to turn away quickly, before he got hypnotized.

Not quickly enough that Tim didn’t notice, but Tim Drake-Wayne remained the very coolest person on planet Earth and didn’t say anything. He just grinned knowingly at Tucker and rolled his shoulders, stretching out his neck.

“Okay, that was really cool. Not even a little bit the same, but really cool.”

Tucker grinned back, sheepish but still just happy he didn’t get caught.

“Yeah, there’s always the skill barrier where you can’t do the button combos, but I still feel like it helps? Y’know, understanding how the characters move and stuff.”

“I’m just glad you picked up the TTK that fast,” Conner cut in with a laugh, now bending down to touch his toes, blessedly while facing them.

Tucker swelled with pride.

“I mean, it wasn’t all that complicated. You explained it really well,” he said totally calmly, totally cool, definitely not fawning over the actual demigod in the room.

He didn’t exactly get why Conner shot Tim an entirely triumphant grin or why Tim rolled his eyes, but he wasn’t gonna worry about that. Tonight, he was batting a thousand.

He’d be tired getting back to class tomorrow, and he couldn’t exactly tell his classmates he’d been hanging out with Tim Drake-Wayne and being carried home by actual Superboy, but this was still the best week of his life. And Tim had already been talking about getting him an internship.

His life really could not be finer.

**

Jason took the mess well. Probably because Danny had a) already been working on it and b) panicked like a startled duckling and explained at a mile a minute, getting the order of events completely wrong at least twice.

Having the garlic powder iced over definitely helped the cleanup too. Jason grabbed a garbage bag, Danny floated what was in the air in, and they both took damp cloths to hunt down any stray garlic powder hiding in crevices.

Danny rewashed the dishes, but Jason dried them with a fresh towel and showed him where everything was. All in all, it was a blissfully domestic moment after a genuinely fucked day.

He could feel an unasked question waiting on the back of Jason’s tongue while they cleaned up, the shape of anticipation and something that wasn’t exactly fear, or even anxiety, just a low grade avoidance. Danny didn’t push it.

That seemed like the right answer too, because when they’d finished and stared at each other awkwardly for a long moment, Jason sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Look, I know you’ve got school tomorrow. If you’ve gotta head out…” he trailed off, resigned-tired filling his aura.

Danny raised both hands to cut him off.

“Hey. I can fly across this city in like, fifteen minutes. It’s not even half eleven yet, so if you want some company I’ve got nowhere else to be. We can talk about whatever, play some more MarioKart, or I can just make you some cocoa and go if you need space?”

Jason didn’t physically sag with relief, but that was probably because he’d already been holding himself carefully to hide the tension. Didn’t matter, because everything else about him screamed it as he raised an eyebrow at Danny, glancing around his kitchen.

“I’m not leaving you alone in here again until you’re Alfred-certified,” he declared sarcastically, and Danny grinned back.

“Ah, so never again. Good to know. It’s probably for the best, I’m a lousy cook for anything I don’t have to wrestle to the ground.” Not that he was any better at cooking it after he’d won the fight; he was just pretty good at the fighting part.

Jason’s eyebrow twitched and then he chuckled, shaking his head and pointing out of the kitchen.

“Tell you what, I’ll make you some cocoa while you go turn the TV on. Remote’s on the end table.”

That sounded like an invitation to stay to Danny! So he hadn’t totally fucked by not booking it out of Jason’s haunt at top speed; good to know.

And maybe he did physically sag with relief a little, because expressing your emotions was cool actually and everyone should totally be doing it more. And it was more fun in ghost form; he actually sunk til his feet almost touched the ground.

Didn’t go all the way when he remembered he was still in his boots. Jason’s other apartments had been pretty well lived in although still generally tidy, but this one was almost pristine. Whether it was new or he was just more careful here, Danny could take a hint.

He gestured quickly at his body while Jason pulled a cartoon of milk from the giant, gleaming blue-black fridge that looked mostly empty.

“Sure, uh… mind if I change?”

Jason blinked, which was fair since Danny had been a ghost for the past couple hours, then nodded.

“Not at all. There’s also some sweatpants and stuff in the bedroom if you wanna get more comfortable, but I don’t have as much of Tim or Dick’s stuff here so you might be stuck in mine,” he added a little shyly, and Danny’s grin widened as he remembered his new favourite shirt.

“You have five minutes to hide any other great soup shirts before I take you up on that,” he teased and Jason grinned back.

“Nah, go for it. I’ll only be a little longer than that with the cocoa though, so don’t do too much snooping around.” It didn’t sound like an actual warning, but he’d also already turned back to what he was doing… which already looked way too complicated.

He had a saucepan for crying out loud. Like Danny couldn’t see the electric kettle and fancy coffee machine. Tempted to stick around to watch just for curiosity, Danny floated back to the front door to change back and drop off his shoes and coat instead.

And hesitated.

Jason had given him permission to go to the bedroom. Change out of his jeans and jacket. He didn’t actually need to; the jeans were pretty comfy, well worn in, but they did have some built up salt, slush, and yuck from walking and driving around Gotham’s streets around the ends.

It was possible the suggestion had been more for the sake of Jason’s couch than Danny’s comfort.

He could just go intangible and let the dirt fall through, but that’d leave a pile which while technically being more contained would still be more mess. And sometimes it was hard to tell what was dirt and what was pants, since they weren’t exactly “his” either way.

He could just do laundry when he got home.

Luckily the bedroom door was open, so Danny didn’t have to poke into any of the other doors from the hall. Just like at his other apartment, there was indeed a separate set of six drawers with Jason’s siblings name on each drawer.

Well, “Dickhead”, “Timbo”, “The Purple One”, “Cass”, “Demon Brat”, and “Best Sibling”. Snickering to himself, Danny considered taking a picture. Or asking Duke what he’d done to be “Best Sibling”.

Unlike the other apartment, each drawer was mostly empty though. Just a pair of sweatpants about the right size, a hoodie, and a shirt that Jason had definitely assigned rather than getting one of theirs. Although Danny didn’t doubt Dick would own a Nightwing hoodie in the least.

The My Little Pony shirt for Damian was… well, Danny didn’t know him well enough to say.

With the clothes that might actually fit located (and honestly Cass’s were probably actually his best bet), Danny snooped through a couple other drawers to see if Jason did have any other fun shirts to steal.

There was actually depressingly little; Jason had plenty of clothes here, just like the other apartments, but all of them were… respectable. Plain. Block colours, simple patterns, normal people clothing.

Danny was just about to give up when he popped open the bottom drawer and stared in awe.

Jason’s regular wardrobe (from Danny’s admittedly limited experience) was kinda basic; plain shirt, sexy jacket, plain pants. Extra sweaters given the weather, but he did also have a pretty good collection of graphic tees with various swearwords usually featured boldly.

Where what had to be the complete collection of every Wonder Woman shirt ever made fit in, Danny wasn’t going to try and guess, but he knew good taste when he saw it.

Unfortunately, if he stole one of those, Jason was probably gonna want it back. Most of them were clearly worn, and just as clearly carefully cleaned to keep them nice. Danny wasn’t good at keeping things nice.

Somewhat reluctantly, he shuffled back to the siblings’ dresser and stole Cass’s hot pink paw print sweats, Steph’s 1000% bootlegged Sex In The City misprint shirt with the purple sparkle dildos painted over the girls, and the Nightwing hoodie. Never let it be said he could put together an outfit.

Fingering the shirt, he made his way back out and to the open plan lounge, his own clothes tossed carefully onto his shoes by the door. Jason had told him to put the TV on… and the worst he could do was say no.

Pulling up the streaming services, Danny went looking for And Just Like That. Mostly for curiosity’s sake, to be honest. He could probably sneak a trailer before Jason got back, just as a sample.

As if summoned by his thoughts, Jason appeared just as Danny found the right service, two steaming mugs of incredible smelling cocoa topped with a mass of whipped cream in his hands and a large bowl of popcorn, skittles, and smarties in his other arm.

Danny couldn’t even complain about not getting to have nice things, because if that wasn’t the epitome of a fantasy walking into the room he didn’t know what was. Hitting pause quickly, he hopped up to take the bowl for purely altruistic reasons.

Definitely not for an early handful, no matter how Jason raised his eyebrows at him. The handful was Danny’s reward for being a good citizen.

“Hey, that smells fantastic! Your family is gonna ruin me for shitty cafe hot chocolate,” he teased through a mouthful of candy.

Jason rolled his eyes but smiled, switching both mugs to one hand to set a trio of coasters on the coffee table. Danny reluctantly relinquished the bowl to the third if only to grab his cocoa and take a sip as Jason sniffed.

“Hot chocolate is to cocoa what instant coffee is to fresh,” he said snootily, like those were words that meant anything. Danny just stared at him, whipped cream on his nose purely for comedic effect.

Until Jason leaned in and wiped it away with his thumb, and Danny’s brain shut down. Unfortunate, since Jason started talking.

“So, uh… you a Sex and the City fan?”

“Huh?” Danny kept staring, pretty sure words had meanings until Jason jerked his thumb in the direction of the TV (which was huge and gorgeous because of course it was. This was the rich son of a bitch apartment Danny would expect of… okay, not a Wayne, it was still way below that level of fancy, but at least someone making a good chunk of change).

Then he shook himself out of it, grinning.

“Oh! No, never seen any.”

Jason cocked his head, eyebrow raised again.

“Then why…”

Danny shrugged, settling himself comfortably back into the couch. He was going to sound like a crazy person anyway, he might as well be comfortable.

“I listen to The Worst Idea Of All Time on my way to classes. And when I’m welding. It’s a couple of guys from New Zealand who watched Sex and the City 2 every week for a year, and a bunch of other stuff. Like, uh… Grown Ups 2, We Are Your Friends, oh and the first Sex and the City movie.”

And, sure enough, Jason looked appropriately baffled.

“What, all at once?”

“Nah, different years. They never did the actual show, but they’re doing commentary on all of the episodes of And Just Like That now that they’re out since they did both movies, which were after the show. Why, did you watch the actual show?”

Jason nodded slowly, and Danny snickered.

“The show’s not canon for the Worst Idea boys. Brady the Rat King is though.” And yeah, he probably could be explaining this more like a sane and reasonable person, but that just made the podcast sound worse.

This time it was Jason who raised both hands, even relinquishing his cocoa to do it.

“There are too many questions, so I’m just gonna start with “why?”” He was already smiling though, so Danny was going to take that as a good sign.

He shrugged cheerfully.

“Schadenfreude is the leading theory from the boys, and to be fair it is fun watching them suffer through the worst movies they can find. They’re both professional comedians though so it is actually really funny, and they’re really positive. Every watch has to have a shining light, which is something you actually liked about the movie that week. I did that with one of my lecturers last semester, a real blowhard, and it helped. Mostly it’s just the aural equivalent of comfort food; nothing challenging, no thought required, just two good soft boys making up crazy stories about movies every week.”

Jason was actually listening, pursing his lips as he considered what Danny was saying. Privately, Danny suspected having actually watched Sex and the City might work against him… although he might have been dead when at least one of the movies came out.

Finally, Jason sighed.

“So you’ve just watched the movies, and none of the show?” He asked, in a tone which told Danny exactly what he thought of the movies. So he might like the podcast after all.

Danny grinned and grabbed another handful of popcorn.

“Nah. They actively discourage us from watching them, even when they do directors commentary. And Just Like That isn’t getting the full season treatment though, so I kinda wanted to take a look just to see the outfits.” A stroke of inspiration struck him, and Danny dropped some of the popcorn into his cocoa.

Getting it back out again was not as easy as he’d have liked, but he got two pieces that were heavenly and was content to let the third wallow under the whipped cream where it had retreated.

Jason totally was not laughing at him, because he was a gentleman. It was the brilliance of Danny’s answers that had him smiling like that, for sure. And when he was sure he had Danny’s attention again, he pointed at him.

“Okay, we’ll watch And Just Like That tonight. But you have to come over and watch the original series at some point too,” he added quickly.

Danny pouted but considered it. He didn’t even know how many seasons there had been. Time for a counter offer.

“Only if you try the podcast.” Which was a totally reasonable offer and absolutely no reason for Jason to make that face as he nodded.

“Fine. I’ll give it a shot on my way to work. Happy?”

“Deeeeee-lighted,” Danny cackled, holding out a hand to shake. Which Jason obligingly shook, then nodded to the couch.

“No spoilers, okay? Unless there’s good hats. I’m just going to run and change.”

He even came back bearing a fuzzy throw from the end of the bed, which he dropped on Danny’s head and imperilled his precious cocoa. It was mostly empty by then though, and then Jason even refilled it for him, so Danny graciously gave him a royal pardon.

Jason graciously told him to shove it up his ass and settled in, and Danny swiped the remote for his impertinence. Long day now finally behind them, it was looking to be a much better night.

**

Taking a quick glance at both his League communicator and both of his phones, Bruce dismissed about thirty messages from Harley. He might have liked to talk to her earlier, and probably would actually message her back to talk later.

It had only been for a matter of minutes, but even a second of believing that Jason had died again… no. He knew he hadn’t handled it well. If he actually slept tonight, he had no doubt it would be even worse than usual, and plagued by nightmares.

Fortunately for him, he had a new case to distract himself with… or rather, a new direction for his existing case.

Diana was right; she usually was, in matters of the heart. He had to trust Jason, and trust that Jason knew what he was doing with this business in the Infinite Realms.

A year ago, Jason likely wouldn’t even have involved Bruce in the conversation, if it happened at all; he’d have dropped the evidence on Dick or Duke, or just gone around trying to blow up a rogue government agency on his own. That he had brought this to Bruce showed a lot of progress in their relationship. It gave him a reason to hope.

He would have to try and reward the trust Jason had shown in him, rather than punishing it. A proper apology, just between them… if Jason would speak to him.

A few days to give Jason time to calm down would probably help. And, if he was truthful, for Bruce to put his concerns to bed.

He may have been… hasty in leaping to conclusions about Danny Fenton. It wasn’t like him to become so entrenched in an opinion without checking it from at least a dozen more angles; the Mansons and Vlad Masters could only know so much.

Diana had been right again; he had to get to know Danny, to put his fears to rest. He trusted…

Okay. When it came down to it, he didn’t exactly trust his children not to lie to him about the dangers of a potential friend. There’d been one too many secrets-turned-disasters. But he could trust them to fact check and rat each other out if they truly believed their siblings were making a serious mistake.

For the joy of an “I told you so”, if nothing else.

Cass’s first impressions in her debrief had been illuminating. A little more discussion with her and perhaps Steph, their views were often varied enough that between them a very comprehensive picture could be built.

Talking to Danny himself again… Bruce knew himself well enough to know that wasn’t a good idea yet. It would have to happen eventually; he suspected he also owed Danny an apology for his behaviour, although no one else had mentioned it. Which was perhaps another sign of how badly he’d failed Jason.

No, he had to level his opinions on Danny first, make sure he could keep a clear head. Returning to the cave, he made his way directly to the batcomputer and sank into its familiar embrace.

Tim likely hadn’t had time to make the updates that would allow them to read through Amity Park’s data directly, but Tucker Foley had provided them with a respectable amount of downloaded data. Bruce could begin his researches there, and make some travel arrangements as well.

If he couldn’t get into Amity Park digitally, physically would have to do. Likely as Brucie Wayne rather than Batman, although repairing the town’s relationship to the Justice League was a worthy goal while he was there. And while people wouldn’t be as open to giving him information about Danny face to face, he could pick up some native tech and make his own adjustments. That should let him get past their unique protections.

And a better look at these ghosts, and an understanding of what exactly the Justice League Dark were so concerned about.

Hands pausing on the keys for a moment, Bruce briefly considered messaging Constantine again, or Zatanna. He should at least inform them that he was planning to go to Amity Park in person.

After a moment’s consideration, he sent a brief message to Zatanna. As unprofessional as it might be, Bruce knew himself well enough to know he just wasn’t up to spending any more time with Constantine at the moment.

Zatanna could brief him on any necessary etiquette just as well, with far less dramatics. A little space between himself and Constantine could only help as well. Honestly, a few days away from Gotham and all of his current headaches could only be a good thing.

Harley might even be proud of him.

——————

So here we have it! Also, by the way, that nexus thing is actually canon in the DC multiverse, and it is so much fun

[muekyn]

a/n: constantly dreaming of eren and the love he provides. <3 this is very self indulgent, but i hope you enjoy it anyways :>

tw: MDNI!!, mentions of death/implied death, suggestive for a teeny tiny bit, fluff, angst

word count: 3k

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an angel.

you swore he had to be an angel.

well, technically, you didn’t know what he was. he could have very well been a carefully constructed set of situations falling into place, somehow created in your brain.

but he felt so real. so genuine, so deep, so alive.

there was no way to really put it in a way that made sense. all judgements cast aside, you were being overwhelmed, borderline plagued by dreams of someone you had never met before.

they were rather odd dreams as well. always taking place on an ocean shore with a dusty pink sky, the dawn poking through the shore’s horizon line. every time you visited this place, colors were more vibrant, circumstances were more peaceful. there was the gentle rise and fall of the beach’s waves, encapsulating your thoughts with every push and pull of the water, every ounce of wind that brushed through your fingertips.

the first time you arrived on that sandy shore, you simply plopped yourself down where you stood, just trying to enjoy the scenery around you. in your dream like state, you were surprisingly in control of your actions; you felt like you could go anywhere, do anything. yet, you chose to remain here, feeling the particles of sand press into the back of your legs as you took a seat on the grainy earth below. you felt like you belonged. there was no reason to leave.

and that’s when you met him. you were simply watching the waves, your eyes resting on the subtle rise and fall of the water, when a voice from behind snapped you out of your thoughts.

“nice view, isn’t it?”

turning around, your eyes met a man that, at the time, was unfamiliar to you. pools of turquoise irises stared back at you, almost boring into your soul. his brown hair was slackly tied up in a messy bun, loose strands of hair perfectly framing his face. the strange man stood at a rather large stature, towering above you as he approached you. as he gets closer, it feels like he’s almost glowing, practically radiating heat. he’s just so incredibly warm. so inviting.

even though you’ve never met him, you found yourself saying yes when he asked if he could take a seat next to you. the two of you sat in silence. comfortable silence.

which only lasted a moment.

“…did you know that sand crabs can only move backwards?” the strange man casually blurts out, as if he were talking to an old friend.

“huh?” you reply.

“sand crabs… they can only move backwards,” he restates. “they even dig backwards.”

“…i see,” you slightly hum, looking into the man’s pretty eyes. “that’s actually really interesting. i would want to be a sand crab.”

the strange man gives you an awkward smile. “me too. do you think that everything they do is backwards? like… do they talk to each other in reverse?”

you can’t help but laugh a little at his question. “if they’re talking in reverse and it’s normal to them, wouldn’t that just mean that they’re talking normally?”

“hm… good point,” the man says, now lost in thought about your question.

a few times a week, from that point on, you would dream of that beach. without fail, that man you saw would be there to greet you, every time. as time went on, you learned that his name was eren. how you learned that- hell, how he assigned himself that name was beyond you. but you accepted it. you accepted the dreams, sometimes greatly looking forward to them.

each and every dream was so profoundly different, so intensely special to you. at first, your dreams were casual- light talks with one another, simply getting to know one another’s temperament and personality.

in a short amount of time, you and eren came to the conclusion that you two were dreaming. someway- somehow, you both had ended up in this vast, empty beach; with nothing else to do but to enjoy each other’s company.

and it was very easy to enjoy eren’s company. after all, eren was just so kind, so sweet. though he was a little reserved, you could tell he had a big heart. with the way he spoke, he cared deeply for everything around him; for the people around him.

despite always being a little vague, he would occasionally fill you in with life events he was going through. they weren’t specific enough for you to fully understand what was going on, but you tried to support him, as best as you could. although you wanted to ask him what exactly was plaguing him, what specifically you could do to help- you felt yourself holding back, just a bit.

pretty quickly, you decided not to talk about the problems going on outside of the dreams, opting to vaguely discuss issues that bothered you both. you didn’t want to pry too much from him. he seemed to have a lot going on, and you didn’t want to ruin these pieces of momentary bliss for him.

another thing, you noted, was that time appeared to stand still in these dreams. you would be in eren’s presence for what seemed like hours- but when you would awake from your slumber, only a brief half hour would pass. spending what seemed like hours in each other’s presence just made it easier to familiarize yourself with him; to really learn about him, and fall in love with the man who stumbled into your head.

after about two months of these bi-weekly dreams, eren allowed himself to show a more vulnerable side. one that lamented, one that grieved. it was evident he had a strong personality, a bit of tainted roughness to him. there would be times where you would help him navigate himself through bursts of pure passion, fits of anger. but despite it all, he was always so gentle, so uniquely kind to you.

it felt like eren understood you. very deeply, very intricately. no matter what you told him, he would always respond with warmth and acceptance, comfort coaxing his voice as he helped you work through yourself. softness was always apparent in eren’s gaze, his viridian eyes never failing to completely envelop you as he talked or watched the waves.

to your delight, eren seemed to share the same feelings for you; your affections for one another simply falling into place. neither one of you questioned it, never doubting it for even a miniscule of a second.

being with him just felt so right. each moment between you two was deeply cherished, every encounter treated as if it would be the last.

despite the beach being rather empty, there was always something to do together. eren tended to spend a good while by the shore of the ocean, choosing to spend his time building unstructured sandcastles, or collecting intricately detailed seashells and pigmented rocks. if he wasn’t searching for seashells, he was digging for sand crabs, creating sandy little pockets of water for them to swim in. eren also found that splashing you in various ways was rather entertaining, usually dumping seaweed infested water on you when you least expected it. of course, you would get back at him by doing the exact same thing.

when the two of you weren’t goofing around, circumstances were much more intimate. the two of you would sway in the water, twirling and tumbling to the sea’s gentle grasp. you could feel the salty ocean water chill your skin as eren would guide your body with his, his grip on you always so gentle, so hesitant. as you two would dance, he’d litter your neck with soft kisses, your hands running through the locks of his chestnut brown hair. the two of you could spend hours dancing in tandem to eren’s peaceful hums.

other dreams were spent completely wrapped up in each other’s arms, the sounds of the waves overlapping the small whimpers and sighs that left each other’s throats. during moments like these, the full extent of eren’s passion and desire for you was evident. he would whisper sweet nothings, reminding you of how much of an angel you were, how absolutely perfect you were. breathless groans of “you’re mine,” would slip from his lips as he felt the heat of your skin against him, allowing himself to become completely devoted to you.

and even though you were just dreaming, you absolutely dedicated yourself to each and every peaceful moment with eren.

dreams were an escape from reality. an escape from the perils and pressures of the world, an escape you had so desperately needed. it felt like only you and eren existed in those dreams, nothing but the crisp water surrounding you two, the pink sky stretching past your line of sight, and the air filled with soft touches and gentle kisses.

the more you would have these dreams, the more they consumed you. you found yourself wanting to be on that sandy beach until the end of time.

but of course, you couldn’t sleep forever. you couldn’t dream forever.

there would be many instances where all you could do is lay awake in bed, your eyes shot open from the previous dream. all you could do was yearn. all you could do was long to be with eren again.

and it was slowly tearing you apart from the inside out.

longing for eren was a past time of yours. whenever things in the real world started to go awry, you instinctively found yourself daydreaming about eren, begging whatever deity you could to have him there with you. it was a helpless sensation; knowing that the one who could bring you so much comfort was so far away, so out of your grasp. the only time he would bring you that comfort again was if you happened to drift off to sleep and arrive on that beach.

and truthfully, as time progressed, those times were fading away with each passing month. visits from eren became less frequent. nonetheless, his words were always so kind, so comforting. they were simply becoming farther and fewer in between.

which brings you to now.

it had been at least two weeks since you had seen eren. as you drifted off into sleep, your line of sight slowly transitioning from nothingness into blurred colors and shapes, you arrived at that tranquil beach. you sat in your typical spot, expecting to see your dream man once again. and just like clockwork, he arrived after a few minutes, slowly taking a seat next to you.

although this time, eren seemed very tired. there was a glimmer of despair in his face, a mix of torment and confusion. his normally bright and vibrant eyes seemed faded by dullness, blankly scanning the environment around you two for something- anything. what that something was, you weren’t sure. undoubtedly, the air seemed different this time around. much more still, much more uncertain.

“…hey,” eren breathed, wrapping his arm around you and gazing off into the ocean.

“eren,” you smile at him, trying to push your feelings of uncertainty away. “i’ve missed you so much…”

he turns his attention away from the waves to give you a brief smile. the pain is evident on his face; it’s impossible to ignore.

“um… are you doing alright?” you say, tilting your head at him.

he turns back to gaze at the shore. “i think i need to be honest with you.”

silently, you stare at him, a million thoughts racing through your head.

“i have something i have to do. i need to do it… and i don’t think i’m going to come back from it,” eren admits.

“what? what makes you say that?” you question, unsure of what he’s talking about.

”i just…i think this might be the last time we see each other…” he trails off his sentence, finally getting the strength to turn back to you.

the look on your face is absolutely crushed. eren feels a hint of guilt, a hint of shame upon meeting your eyes.

“…why?” you blurt out, pain starting to become evident in your voice.

“i don’t think i can fully explain. but i just wanted you to know… so you don’t keep expecting me. you need to forget about me, and be happy…” eren slightly wallows, his voice slow and wavering.

“no… no, i don’t want that,” you plead with him. “please, just talk to me…i don’t want to lose you.”

“even if i tell you, there’s nothing that can be done,” he reaffirms.

you try your best to comfort him. “you don’t know that. it could-“

“i do know…” eren interjects.

“but how can you be so sure?” you object.

“…ah. don’t judge me… alright? i don’t know how to say this, but…” he thinks for a moment. “…i know my fate, i guess. i’ve seen it before.”

with sadness in your eyes, you listen to him as he tries his best to break down his situation, everything that he’s been keeping bottled up in him for so long.

“right now… where i live, there’s a war going on,” eren speaks slowly, carefully choosing his words. “all the nations outside of my island want my people dead. but i won’t stand by and let them slaughter us... so there’s no other option for me. i’ll kill them before they kill us.”

before you can think of what to say, he continues. “i’ve seen my future… and my time is running out. but i just have to keep going, until the end.”

slowly, you begin to piece everything together. all the circumstances he’s been put in. the horrific conditions of his world. the absolute state of torment he’s currently in.

“eren… i’m… i’m so sorry this is happening to you…” you say, melancholy dripping from your voice. “this sounds like a nightmare…”

“it’s my fate… i just… i don’t even know where i am anymore,” eren says, tilting his head up to the sky. “all the memories- all the glimpses of the future- they’re confusing me. i can’t tell if i’m in a memory or not, even right now… everything is blurring together.”

“it breaks me to hear you say that, eren…” you sadly breathe. “it seems like you have a huge burden to bear. you’re going through a lot…”

“maybe…” he says, glancing down at you. “…but i’m glad i got to spend some of my time with you… i know we were brought together, for a reason.”

you feel your heart waver. “then why don’t you stay with me… please. we can be here forever, and you don’t have to go back to that chaos.”

“you know that’s not possible,” eren gives you a weak, broken smile.

“i’m just really scared for you…” you feel your eyes watering. “if what you’re saying is true, then… does that mean…”

“hey- don’t worry about what it means,” eren has a hint of faked reassurance to his tone. “our time is already running out as it is. let’s just try our best to enjoy it. i don’t want this to be your last memory of us.”

“stop saying that- this won’t be the last time,” you insist, trying to reason with yourself. “it won’t.”

eren softly says your name. “you have to accept it.”

“no- i can’t be without you,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “i need you. and i want you to need me too…”

“i do need you. but i’m sorry…” he sighs. “i can’t do anything, as much as i want to.”

the two of you sit in silence for a moment. agonizing silence.

“…so… does this mean… this is goodbye?” you say, trying your best to hold back the tears starting to flow down your face.

“…my angel. i promise you… that no matter what- i’ll see you again. whether that’s in this life or the next one,” eren softly says, planting a kiss on your forehead. “-this won’t be our last goodbye.”

no words leave your mouth, just an empty whimper.

with all of his strength, eren gives you a genuine, heartfelt smile. “i love you. i hope you always remember that.”

“i…i love you too eren…” you whine, your voice strained and broken. “more than anything.”

eren’s grip on you tightens. his vibrancy and warmth spread through your body, easing your despair, just barely.

as you wrapped your arms around him, embracing him as tightly as you could, you felt him begin to slip away. colors slowly transitioned from saturated to dull, your body starting to get heavy. desperately, you caged your arms around eren, trying to grasp onto whatever amount of his body that you could-

ah. you woke up.

there were tears in your eyes as you stirred yourself out of your dream. silently, you held yourself as you tried to gain composure, your body slightly shaking and the tears unable to stop flowing down your face. the only way you could calm yourself down was by rationalizing that the dream must have been a nightmare. surely, undoubtedly- eren would come back, right? he’d be there to greet you the next time you arrived on that distant shore, with a smile on his face and open arms for you.

but unfortunately, eren was right.

that was the last time you ever saw him.

you thought about him endlessly. when you would see him again, when he would sway underneath that vibrant pink sky with you again. longing became a subconscious thought, a parasitic need that made you practically restless.

but even in your dreams, eren wouldn’t grace you. even when you would have dreams about that sandy beach again, he didn’t show up. and based off what eren told you- he would never come back.

never to return, never to whisper sweet words of affection to you- never to confide in you again. his tenderness and love would soon become a distant memory, further convoluted by the fact that all of your memories for each other took place inside of your dreams.

and as you navigated through your life, your dreams a little more alone than before, you had to make peace with the idea that eren was gone.

but just like eren said- in this life or the next, he would see you again.

and you had to hold onto that, for now. even though dreaming became insignificant, even though things felt more meaningless to you, you had to hold on.

for eren.

[xoxoladyaz]

Krampus Baby

Me: we should write a cute little holiday blurb to publish on Christmas Eve, maybe something Hallmark-y, maybe some mistletoe -

Also Me: KRAMPUS EDDIE KRAMPUS EDDIE KRAMPUS EDDIE

So that's what we've got for you today, my lovelies!

CW: BDSM, allusions to punishment, brief descriptions of sex, implied future monsterfucking

“Babe, this isn’t what it looks like!”

“Oh, really? And what exactly does this look like, Eddie?!” Steve stood in the doorway to Eddie’s all-purpose-game-room-slash-music-studio-slash-office and glared at him, his arms crossed tightly across his chest. 

Eddie shot a frantic look at the guys. Gareth and Phil were very conveniently looking elsewhere (the traitors). Jeff, who was the only one brave enough to make eye contact with Eddie, just shook his head slowly. “You’re on your own, dude.” 

Well, shit.

The truth is, Eddie knew he was the only person to blame for the situation he’d found himself in. But in his defense, it’s not like there’s a manual that you get when you become a Krampus that says “hey, here’s how you tell your boyfriend/girlfriend/partner/spouse/whatever that you’re a Krampus, meaning that you spend all of Christmas Eve travelling around your assigned region and birching people that Santa/Jesus/someone says needs to be scared onto the straight and narrow.” 

Well. Maybe he could have just led with that and gone from there?

Fuck, this would have been so much easier if he’d just agreed to be a Santa but no, his dramatic gay eighteen-year-old born-in-the-North-Pole ass just had to pick the more flamboyant career option. And sure, it was fun for a while – he’d always had a flair for theatrics and performing and every December 24 he gave the performance of a lifetime – but after about ten years of birching undeserving creeps he’d realized hey, maybe something like this could be fun the other 364 days of the year with humans he actually liked (or, ya know, that he at least thought were hot and wanted to get off with.)

And so Eddie the Krampus became Eddie Munson, training Dom at the Hellfire Club, and after twenty-seven years of walking this earth, he finally felt like everything in his life had fallen into place. Naturally that’s when he met Steve Harrington, a bratty little prince with perfect hair and an even more perfect ass and fell madly in love – far past the point of no return, do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars. He’d never really given a lot of serious thought to love or dating or anything like that because, you know, the whole Krampus thing, but from the moment he laid eyes on Steve his entire world had shifted to orbit around his beautiful, delightfully dorky, somewhat clueless human. Even more incredibly, Steve seemed to feel the same way because he'd given Eddie a key to his house after only four weeks of dating and happily reorganized his home so Eddie could have his own space and fuck, Eddie was going to marry this human and make him immortal and traipse all around the world with him until it was time for him the next generation of Krampus’ to take over.

(Krampusses? Krampusi? Krampussies? There really wasn’t a great plural form of his job title, was there?)

Right, it was a great plan, no, it was a perfect plan, because nothing could be better than almost-eternity with Steve. There was just one teeny tiny minor flaw with his plan, that being the fact that he, uh, forgot to tell Steve.

And now it was December 24th, and Eddie and the guys had finally gotten home from a long night of birching (which wasn’t really fun anymore now that Eddie got to punish someone he loved in a very, very fun way almost daily) and were unwinding with a beer when Steve had stormed in – Steve, who was asleep when Eddie left.

Steve, who was now seeing Eddie in his Krampus form for the first time (along with Jeff and Gareth and Phil). Steve, who looked angrier than the time that Eddie tried to experiment with forks in all of the electrical outlets in their house.

Steve, who was probably the first human to ever cause a Krampus nightmares.

“I can’t believe this. I seriously cannot fucking believe this, Eddie - ”

“Look, baby, I know this looks kind of crazy,” Eddie started slowly, extremely conscious of the way his horns protruded out of his hair, of the soot on his furry legs and the loud clopping sound his cloven hooves made as they tapped nervously on the floor. (He’d never felt bad about how he looked in this form; hell, he even thought he looked kind of hot. Not everyone can pull off the whole “burning-red-eyes-and-weirdly-long-tongue” thing like he could. But now that he found himself caught in Steve’s fiery gaze, he wanted nothing more than to disappear into a tiny ball, to make Steve forget that he’s ever looked like this.) “And I was meaning to tell you, I really was, but - ”

“Oh, really?” Steve scoffed, narrowing his eyes at Eddie even further. “You were meaning to tell me that you were punishing other people, is that what you’re trying to say?”

“ – wouldn’t believe me anyways, I mean, most people don’t believe in Krampus – wait, what?” Eddie cut off as Steve’s words worked their way into his brain. “I – what?”

“You heard me,” Steve scoffed again. “You just forgot to tell me you’re punishing other people? Even though we’ve been exclusive for almost a year? Even though you moved into my house?!”

“I – Steve, wait, it’s not like that - ”

“Oh, really,” Steve repeated himself, “so you didn’t spend Christmas Eve running around and whipping people who aren’t me?”

Eddie shot another look at the guys, all of whom looked as shocked as Eddie felt. (Except for Gareth, that little fucker was grinning like this was the funniest thing he’d ever witnessed.) “Steve, it’s not - ”

“It’s not like what, Eddie? It’s not like you threw a fit the one time someone else tried to Dom me but apparently that doesn’t go both ways! Apparently, I have to share you! You better not be fucking them, Eddie Munson,” Steve seethed, “because I swear to God – ”

“No, no, no! Steve, I wouldn’t, I would never,” Eddie raced out, cautiously stepping closer to his boyfriend. “And it’s not – it’s not like us, okay, it’s literally just punishment and nightmares and stuff. Most of them won’t even remember me tomorrow!”

“Oh, but some will?” 

“I – maybe?”

“What Eddie is trying to say,” Jeff saved him by jumping in, “is that this is just a job for us, man. It’s literally just a job. We really don’t get that sort of enjoyment out of it. Hell, most of us aren’t even in the lifestyle outside of this.”

“Yeah, Eddie’s just weird,” Gareth snickered, although he sobered somewhat when Eddie turned to glare at him.

“He loves you, man. He wouldn’t cheat,” Jeff finished. “That’s not what this is.”

Steve huffed, although the crease in his brow had softened somewhat. “You’re really a Krampus, then? And the horns and shit are real?”

“Yeah – yeah, super real, see?” Eddie said, grabbing hold of his horns and yanking them as hard as he could. Ouch. “This is just my Krampus form. I, uh, don’t wear it out all that often.”

“But you have horns.”

“Uh, yeah,” Eddie replied nervously.

Steve’s face went through a few emotions before settling on angry. “You mean I could have been holding onto your horns the entire time we’ve been fucking?”

Eddie heard the sound of someone choking loudly behind him, but he didn’t have the brain space to care about that; in fact, the only brain space he had was completely overrun by images of Steve on his back, hands gripped around Eddie’s horns as Eddie drove him further and further into their bed. “I, uh - ” 

“Well,” Steve cut off his blabbering with a cold look, “since it’s Christmas Eve and all, I might as well do a little punishing of my own.” He turned on his heel and stomped out of the doorway, pausing briefly to yell back over his shoulder. “You’re sleeping on the couch!”

“BABE!” Eddie whined back, stomping his hoof on the ground. “Until when?!?!”

“Until I say so!” Steve hollered as he disappeared out of view. 

“That went well,” Gareth said drily once Steve was out of earshot. The sound of their bedroom door slamming echoed into Eddie’s man-cave and all four Krampus’ winced.

“Yeah, good luck getting out of that one, man,” Phil said, and with a nod he disappeared in a cloud of smoke. Gareth snorted and followed suit, leaving Eddie and Jeff standing alone.

“Honestly, I really think it could have gone worse. You might need to speed up the timeline on that ring, though.” Jeff clapped Eddie on the shoulder. “Unless you have another plan.”

“Oh,” Eddie replied slowly, quietly, a maniacal grin spreading across his face. “I have a plan, all right.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t worry me at all,” Jeff rolled his eyes. “It’s your funeral, man.”

“Mmm,” Eddie hummed, thinking about the brand new switch he’d purchased for Steve – one of his many, many gifts for the man. “At least I’ll die doing what I love.”

“And that is?”

Eddie smirked even wider. “Why, punishing Steve.”

[lively-potter]

— moon struck ; jjk ; one

— genre ; strangers to friends to lovers/kinda grumpy x sunshine/smut/fluff/angstwithahappyending 🥹

— warnings ; body insecurities ( mentioned ), eating disorder ( in the past but mentioned ), oc deals with a severe amount of anxiety and panic attacks, violence, smut ( later ), FLUFF, love struck jungkookie 🥹

— find me on Wattpad ; @/LivelyPotter

— word count ; 2.4k

— part two

— 2024 © @LivelyPotter

river’s pov ; six am

My brother Brandon always used to tell me to make sure the walls that I built to protect myself didn't become a prison — a prison that I couldn't escape.

Ten years later, I could shamefully say that I did not listen to his advice, and now I was paying for it in the worst way possible.

Knees tucked to my chest, I panted and eyed the area around me nervously, as if I expected the man that I had been avoiding as the plague had come upon me.

Tucked inside the teeny tiny cleaning closet across from the kitchen, with the door locked and closed – it wasn't possible, but in my mind, there was still a chance.

But maybe that was just me being paranoid.

Okay, I was paranoid. Very paranoid.

Listening closely to the parents dropping their children off, I prayed to whoever was listening to me at this moment that I wouldn't be found by anyone until it was only Sang, the children, and I in the building.

I gulped past the ball that seemed to be lodged in my throat constantly whenever he came to my mind.

He nearly always was on my mind, so I was growing quite used to the clogging of my throat and the constant upbeat of my heart thrumming inside my chest.

He was here, and he crept up on me ( not really, I'm just being dramatic ) without my notice with little Moon in his big strong arms.

Once I caught sight of him – smiling kindly and brightly as he always did, a breathless whisper of my name leaving his red-bitten lips – I squeaked and ran away like a coward, ghostly pale face stained crimson.

It had been this way for seven, grueling, nerve-racking, months.

Ever since Jeon Jungkook moved to Charleston with his two-year-old daughter to live closer to his aunt, Mi Cha, my life had turned on its axis. I was living in fear every morning when the twenty-six-year-old man would drop off his daughter at the daycare center Sang and I ran.

A whimper of disparity left my lips.

My other best friends Brett and Atlas would never let me live this down. On the other hand, Sang and Wil wouldn't give me a hard time about running away from the man when he hadn't even spoken ten words to me.

Not for lack of trying, he had tried speaking to me — every day in fact, but I was the problem. I was the one who chickened out the moment I saw his intimidating, tattoo-laden figure — looking totally out of place in the yellow and lavender mellow aura surrounding the daycare center.

I didn't want to admit to the rest of my friends and family that I was scared of him. Terrified is a better word for it.

I gnawed on my bottom lip, enough to taste the nasty metallic taste of blood coating my tongue.

I cringed and rubbed over the small gash on my lower lip.

I know. I know it's unrealistic and okay, childish to be afraid of a man that I didn't know...but I just couldn't help it! I just couldn't!

Not when he stares at me, with those pretty boba-like eyes and that sweet smile on his handsome face, which for some odd reason, I find him doing a lot before my slow brain finally clicks that he's near.

When I catch sight of him, my fight-or-fly instinct kicks in and I'm gone.

It leads me to some very embarrassing moments that I'm not proud of.

Heck, even last week at the supermarket, I found him and Moon shopping and before he could find me, I hightailed it to the freezer section, and thankfully old man Joe — the resident frozen food stocker, let me hide in the freezing ice room containing huge pieces of pork, beef, and chicken hanging from metal hooks.

I could imagine Brett and Atlas laughing at my misfortune. Those two were a lot more courageous than I was, and I was still fighting past my insecurities about how in the world those two amazing people would want to be friends with me.

A girl who had way too many issues and experienced large bouts of cowardice.

Oh for dingleberries sake!

A shiver tumbled down my spine as I once again remembered that freezer room.

It freaked me out since it reminded me of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre, but I held strong. Being forced to be scared of ole Joe plunging one of those metal hooks through my neck and suspending my dead body from the ceiling was better than being around Jungkook and those feelings I got whenever I was around him.

Yes, I was running away from my feelings, and I didn't care.

As long as it wasn't hurting anyone, I could carry on in life with a guiltless conscience.

I wasn't hurting anyone, right?

A tremble parted my lips as a quick knock sounded on the door.

"River, he's gone now." A resounding sigh of relief left my lips at hearing Sang's voice. "Moon's been crying for you for the past ten minutes."

I licked at my chapped lips and got up off the floor, and dusted off my light denim baggy pants, and tugged at the oversized Nike sweatshirt I wore as I opened the door and skittered out.

Sang, with her arms crossed across her pink dress-covered figure, watched me sympathetically and carefully wrapped her taller self around my pixie-like frame and led me down the hall and into the children's room.

"You know you'll eventually have to stop avoiding him, right?" She chuckled and pinched my rosy cheek between her manicured fingers.

I avoided her eyes and fiddled with the hem of my shirt, "You don't see his face every time you run, Rivvy." She sighed, "I feel bad for the poor man, Mi Cha speaks about it sometimes. You ought to give Jungkook a break."

Why did it matter to him whether I avoided him or not?

Wouldn't a lot of people be put off by the sheer dominance that man gave off?

Wasn't he used to it?

I cringed, "...I'm sorry. I just can't help it." I mumbled and tucked my pale hair behind my ears as a high-pitched scream entered my ears.

Wincing at the familiar sound, a smile quirked up my lips at the tiny baby, with her gleaming, tear-filled boba eyes and wobbly lips, and cute little curled pigtails swinging back and forth as she marched towards me.

Her little white Air Force ones thumped on the ground as the tiny little girl marched towards me clumsily.

I mustered a giggle and knelt to receive the adorable two-year-old in my arms.

This, ladies and gentlemen, was Jeon Moon.

"Riv!" She cried out a new version of my name, the only part she could pronounce, and fat tears dribbled down her face as she placed her head on my chest.

"Shhh," I hushed the little child, who had begun to get the other kids' attention and before the others swarmed me, demanding attention, I had to quiet her. "It's okay, Moon." I smoothed back her silky dark hair as she calmed down and sniffled against my sweatshirt.

Sang smirked and pushed her chameleon-colored hair off her shoulders, "I don't know why she always comes to you, River." She snickered, now holding little Sarah in her arms.

"But seeing as you both prefer to keep to yourselves and avoid other people like the plague, I kinda see it." She joked.

"Haha." I deadpan at her, blinking down at Moon. My heart swelled at the adorable child and I hugged her closer to my body.

She was just too darn cute!

I wouldn't admit it out loud, but she looked like a baby female version of her dad.

Over the next few minutes, Sang and I sat on the floor as we watched over the kids who had already raided the toy box.

Being the youngest and the most interesting yet introverted child I had ever met, Moon decided to stay seated on my lap while digging into the soft strawberry puff snacks her dad packed for her.

"Oh!" Sang spoke up suddenly, causing Moon and I to look at her, lips forming an O at being startled.

My best friend stifled a giggle, "Your brothers will be here soon — they decided to bring lunch for us since you forgot to bring your own." She sent me a knowing look, more than likely knowing that I had forgotten on purpose.

I once again avoided her eyes and turned my focus to Moon who cooed, those rosy sun-kissed cheeks chubbily pooched out as she ate.

I released a laugh of my own and wiped along her lips with a baby wipe, cleaning the crumbs from her little delicate face.

"Sounds good." I exclaimed, meeting her emerald eyes, "Brett messaged me this morning and said she and Atlas may come down soon to hang out."

Sang only nodded and looked behind my shoulder, biting her lol nervously.

I felt my stomach drop and dread fill my gut. "What is it?" I gulped, fearing the worst.

Sang chewed on her top lip thoughtfully, "I was wondering whether or not you could take over pickup later today, Brandon and Corey need me back at this apartment."

The nervous tinge in her voice caused suspicion to curl along inside my chest, but knowing I would have to face my biggest nightmare, I nodded.

"Sure," I replied, my normally soft-spoken voice shaking in trepidation. I would find a way out of having to face him. I risked a look down at Moon who began to toy with my earring.

Sang had a proud glint in her eye, "Thank you, Rivvy!"

"No problem." I forced a smile and played with Moon's little pigtails.

Sang walked off to help stop a dispute between a couple of ten-year-olds while I gazed down at Moon.

"Oh, Moon." A loud sigh left my lips, displaying the fear inside my heart. "Why does your daddy have to be so darn scary?"

***

third pov ; jeon jungkook

The twenty-six-year-old man stared glumly at the table before him in silence. Using a spoon, Jungkook stirred the warmed ginseng tea within the mug.

"Did that sweet River flee from you again, joka?" Jeon Mi Cha guessed, studying the expression on her nephew's face.

Jungkook fiddled with the silver bar through his brow and sighed heavily, his expression and bodily actions speaking for themselves.

He sipped slowly at the warm drink and licked the droplets from his pierced bottom lip.

"Of course." He exhaled, gritting his teeth. "It's been like this for months, gomo. Why should I expect anything else? I...I try to speak to her every day, and it just stings when she doesn't even give me a chance to speak to her."

Jungkook felt his heart squeeze within the confines of his rib cage and resisted the urge to rub the skin above his heart.

Mi Cha frowned, "I've known that girl since she was five years old and clinging onto her brother's pant leg." She chuckled, seeing a smile erupt on Jungkook's face as he imagined a tiny five-year-old River.

Fuck, he imagined she was as adorable as his Moon!

"She hasn't got out much, Jungkookie." Mi Cha smiled comfortingly, "From what Sang has told me, the girl was homeschooled by her brothers and never really left her home. The only people that are close enough to her are family and those friends of hers that she's known her entire life."

"I know," Jungkook rubbed across his sharp jawline and tongued his cheek thoughtfully, "Since Min Jee and I divorced...I hadn't ever really tried to get back into the dating scene — honestly, I never really felt the urge to, until I saw her." He rumbled, eyes crinkled at the corners as his cheeks flushed the slightest bit.

He'd never blush because of a girl before, but since he had met River Henshaw, blushing in her presence was all he could do.

He wished he could play it cool.

Mi Cha hid her knowing smile behind her hand and continued to listen to Jungkook ramble.

"It's unbelievable to explain this out loud...but I want to get to know her so badly...it's like...she's like..." he struggled to find the right words so his aunt came to understand him. "I just know that she's something special. I just know it. We've never had a conversation, but I know I'll fall for her the second she looks into my eyes and smiles at me."

She was perfect in his eyes.

Attracted to her from first sight, and later falling in deeper the more he learned about her from Sang, Mi Cha, and hell, even his little Moon, who worshiped the ground River Henshaw walked on just proved time and time again that he shouldn't give up.

He didn't think he could.

No matter how insecure he got...when all she did was blatantly avoid him and tremble when he got near.

It was a searing blow to his self-confidence.

When she looked at him for the first time, it was like bells rang in his ears and everything around them blurred and all he could see was her.

"You'll get your chance, joka. It will take time. She's a skittish one."

Jungkook nodded, but other thoughts overwhelmed him.

"It just makes me upset when I hear her mutter 'run, River, run!' to herself." Jungkook's face fell in sadness.

What if the reason she wanted nothing to do with him was because he was older than her? Not too much — only seven years — or was it the fact that he was a dad?

The woman his mother had tried and failed to set him up with a year ago was always put off by the fact that he had a daughter. A baby.

Pushing those thoughts to the back of his brain, Jungkook looked back to Mi Cha and rose that pierced brow of his.

"Because you're here at seven am on a Monday morning and not at your shop." She snorted, "Plus you have that puppy love look in your eyes. Again."

Jungkook only grunted in return, resuming his task of avoiding her knowing eyes to count to specks on the marble counter.

author's note ;  ✨

Thank you all so much for reading and I hope you loved the introduction to River's story!

Don't hesitate to let me know what you think!



[flowercrowngods]

just a teeny tiny little wintering kid fic thing for @cxwzkeys featuring transmasc!eddie/steve/johnny (that punk from family video) ❄️

Babies are the most punk rock thing to exist. Well, according to Eddie, they’re the most metal thing ever, but Eddie can’t be right about everything. They had lengthy arguments about it — lengthy only because they were busy laughing and kicking and fighting dirty about it (read: Steve distracted them both with kisses and scalp massages).

Secretly, Johnny decided that Val is their metal baby and Sue is their punkrock baby. Valerie Amalia Munson, born into the world during a glorious summer storm and crying her lungs out. “Most metal ever,” Eddie had breathed, exhausted and sweaty and so, so warm after giving birth to their babygirl.

And Johnny let’s them have it.

But Sue? Suzie Joanne? With her wild, blonde mane that Johnny likes to pretend to spike up into a mohawk? Oh, she’s his little punkrock baby, alright. Especially with that little pointy hat she’s wearing right now, sleeping soundly in her papa Steve’s arms while he caresses chubby red cheek whispering nonsensical promises to her sleeping form. It never fails to make Johnny smile, even as Joyce has him wrapped up in a conversation about… something. He’s not listening. Not when that’s his babygirl sleeping so soundly in the arms he knows can make anyone feel safe.

Joyce stops talking and follows his eyes, her hand coming up to Johnny’s forearm as she strokes him gently, as though she understands and forgives him.

“She’s beautiful,” she says.

“Yeah,” Johnny says. “She is.” Then, remembering where he is, he snaps out of it and looks back at Joyce, who has this awfully gentle look on her face, her eyes almost watery. She knows. She’s a parent, and she knows.

She had two little punkrock babies, too, even though Big and Baby Byers are a lot more normie about it.

He grins at her and motions for her to follow him. “How ‘bout we make some hot chocolate for those two, hm?”

“Oh, you deserve one just as much,” Joyce says, lightly nudging his shoulder as they walk through Steve’s winter holiday home — it should still be a crime that this exists, but Johnny knows how excited his idiot lovers get about snow, so he’ll pause the agenda for two weeks, in the name of stars in Steve’s and Eddie’s eyes. But after that, it is on!

“But I didn’t—“

“Yes, you did,” Joyce says, gathering all the stuff she needs to make her infamous holiday hot chocolate — these should really be capitalised, in his very secret opinion. “You’re doing a lot, all three of you, raising those two wonderful girls. And you’re doing enough. You deserve a treat about it even if you’re not drowning in house and care work, boy, when will you learn that?”

Johnny smiles sheepishly, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck, not really comfortable with the easy affection just because.

“Sorry, ma’am. Yes, ma’am.”

“Now that’s what I wanna hear. Come, help me.”

And so he does. They work in silence, the entire situation still so unreal to him. Standing in this lavish kitchen in his big house somewhere in the middle of nowhere as humongous flakes of snow keep falling outside while he can walk around here in socks.

Some part about him wants to be angry about it. But another part is just… calm. Happy. Indulgent.

They get to have this, get to invite Steve’s found family here each year before the rest of Eddie’s and Johnny’s will arrive, too, for two weeks of winter fun.

Two weeks where his little family gets reminded of how big it actually is. It takes a village, they say — and man, they really actually almost got one. It’s insane. He loves them all so much.

The rest are lounging around the fire, with a very mortified-looking Hopper trying not to move as a two-year-old little metal gremlin girl spends her nap time sleeping on his stomach.

Johnny grins as he meets his eyes, saluting to him with too much cheek, knowing it will land him face-first in the snow later, but he doesn’t care as he carefully balances three too-large mugs of hot chocolate in his hands, walking over to his best guys over on bank by the large window.

Steve has stopped whispering things to his little banshee girl and is gently swaying her this way and that instead — Johnny wonders if he’s aware he’s doing it.

He watches for a moment, just to take it on, just to feel again how unreal everything is. Still he can’t help the smile as he steps closer and presses a kiss to the crown of Steve’s head, who hums in affection.

“Need me to take over?” he asks, finishing off with another kiss. “Take her for a while?”

Steve shakes his head, leaning back slightly to look up at him, his head bumping into Johnny’s stomach as he does, earning himself another kiss.

“No, she’s asleep.”

Eddie scoots closer to Steve to make room for him on their bench.

“Come sit with us?” they ask, barely tearing their gaze away from the dancing, tumbling snowflakes outside, their voice just as quiet as Steve’s, just as hushed, just as reverent. It’s the snow, Johnny figures. It’s the snow and their little babygirl.

Johnny hums and leans over to the side, lightly kissing Eddie and brushing his lips to his little girl’s forehead, too. It’s so… magical, having this tiny little human who is already so different from their other tiny human. Most beautiful goddamn thing he’s ever seen, both of them.

“I love you, little punkrock baby,” he whispers, delighted to see she doesn’t even stir. Delighted to see she feels so safe. So calm. That she can just fall sleep anywhere. She’s like her papa Steve.

“I love you, too, you big punkrock baby,” Steve says, bumping his nose into Johnny’s cheek with a smile. “Now come. Rest. While you can, before madame decides she’s jealous of this very delicious smelling hot chocolate you’ve acquired there.”

“Fuck off,” he chuckles, handing over their mugs as he slides in on Eddie’s other side, resting his arms on the window sill and just watching his little family for a bit.

In the end, they make use of the quiet they’ve been given when Eddie leans against Johnny and Steve against Eddie, the three of them falling asleep in a little pile, their baby safe in her papa’s arms.

It’s only when Val comes over an hour later and decides she wants to be part of their cuddle pile, too, that they have to stir and rearrange. She ends up in Johnny’s lap, watching the snow as Eddie tells a story about a Snowflake named Sam.

Johnny pretends not to listen raptly.

[oneforthemunny]

Would NB ever get seriously upset at Eddie over something? Like just wanna see if she ever felt vulnerable enough to think that maybe this would not work

yes there's at least two solid times she really thinks about leaving and breaking it off.

one time was when it was still a secret to the public but they were together. they get in a blow up kind of fight, he was jealous about her talking to someone, she was mad at him for being immature- it was a whole fight that just snowballed.

i think he'd say something entirely too hurtful and mean, just trying to hurt her because he was embarrassed and that's all he knows how to do- hurt the other person more when he's been hurt.

said something about her being just as bad as her parents, careless and uses something she told him that was very vulnerable and sensitive, and uses it against her. some fear she had that she told him in private, trusted, intimacy and he threw it back at her in anger.

they broke up/took a break whatever you want to call it for a while, and eddie goes off the deep end.

i've kinda talked about the other before on my old account but it is when persephone and kensington are still really little. you and eddie made a pact that you wouldn't be intoxicated in anyway around the kids because you don't want to be like your parents.

eddie was "tired" with kensie and a young toddler. he's exhausted and trying to make new music while also trying to be a dad, and instead of coming to you, he calls up an old friend for some coke. just a small bit, in a teeny tiny bag to wake him up and help him get through thsi week.

you notice he's like tweaking a little playing with the girls, just erratic and energetic, and you get curious bc it's familiar. you find the baggie in his wallet, and you leave. you don't even tell him you're leaving, just pack up the girls, put them in the car.

eddie's confused really what's going on, and you just hand him the baggie and your rings. "you made your choice and you can stay here with it, but i am not letting my babies anywhere near what i went through growing up."

a breakdown, a frantic unhinged call to gareth later, and eddie's in rehab.

[stories-by-hails]

Sweet Tooth: 1 {The double date

Sweet Tooth

Mafia Boss!Steve Rogers X Baker!Reader

Summary: At the age of 25 you inherit your parent's bakery after they died in a fiery car accident, leaving you to run the family business with your best friend Charlotte (Cherry) and after MANY failed relationships your best friend decides to hook you up with her boyfriend’s best friend. She only left out one teeny tiny detail… He’s a mafia boss, in fact he practically owns half of Brooklyn

Chapter Warnings: 18+ MDNI Mentions of sex (Between Cherry and Bucky) Fluff, mentions of parental death, drinking, and possible romantic tension.

Word count: 3.4K

As always, I do not consent to my work being copied, translated, or posted to another site. Thank You. -Hailey

Two years ago~

You sat across from your parent's lawyer Andy Barber as he read through the will. Your parents had been dead for about two weeks, and the police wouldn’t tell you much other than it was just a really bad accident and that the investigation was still ongoing. When you were able to see your parents again at the funeral, the two people in those caskets barely even resemble the two faces you grew up with.

“...And finally The Sweet Tooth bakery and the rest of our assets will go to our daughter Y/N.” Andy sighed as he set down the documents on his desk. You’d barely heard anything he’d said the whole time, instead focused on trying to figure out what was next. 

Charlotte or “Cherry” as everyone called her gently squeezed your hand pulling you from your trance. She’d been your best friend since third grade, and you’d been through everything together, from first days of school and first periods to first boyfriends and first heartbreaks. Now unfortunately it was this. 

“I- Um- How does this work exactly?” You asked making Mr. Barber stroll over to his filing cabinet and pull out some paperwork. 

“You’ll sign this paperwork here, and in a few business days the bakery and your parent's assets will be in your name.” He explained passing the pen across to you and pointing to each dotted line, and on each one, you would place the same two letters and at the bottom of each page your signature. “Just give the bank a few days to process everything and you should be set.” He nodded as you and Cherry stood up.

“Thank you, Mr. Barber.” You nodded as you slipped on your jacket.

“Of course, and um- I’m sorry for your loss. Your parents were good people.” He rubbed the back of his neck. You gave a small hum as Cherry smiled politely before exiting his office and into the cold Brooklyn air.

Now~

“Okay but this guy is genuinely a good one!” Cherry argued as you carefully scooped the banana bread batter into the loaf pans before topping them with chocolate chips.

“Didn’t you say that about the last two? AND they turned out to be huge jerks.” You smirked at her dumbfounded expression before wiping your hands on your flour-covered apron. 

“Alright yes, I will admit my judgment may have been slightly askew with Tweedledick and Tweedleasshole-” She shrugged taking the loaf pans from you and putting them in the ovens. “But this one isn’t like those two. I met this one this time, he’s Bucky’s best friend and he seems really sweet.”

“Seems and is have two very different meanings, Cherry. Now come on and help me finish up these cupcakes we have an hour until opening.” You chuckled as you grabbed the piping bag filled with orange buttercream frosting.

You could remember being 6 years old and standing at this exact same countertop with your mother behind you helping to guide your hands as you helped her decorate the cupcakes she’d just made. You earned your title of the sprinkle monster after you poured way too many onto one cupcake, your father despite not being one to like sprinkles said it was the best cupcake he’d ever had.

It made you chuckle as now 25-year-old you lightly dusted sprinkles across the now-frosted cupcakes. As Cherry loaded them into the glass display cases by the front counter and you checked over your bread doughs from the night before the bell above the door could be faintly heard.

“We’re closed for another 30 minutes- Oh, hello James.” You deadpanned as Bucky leaned against the counter talking to Cherry who appeared to be a little flustered.

“Hello to you too sour patch.” Bucky nodded, he was wearing a black henley and his brunette hair had been pulled into a bun. 

“Buck, tell her! Steve really is not that bad!” Cherry huffed pointing over at you.

“I think you need to make that decision for yourself so how about this, we can do a double date and go to that club over on Flatbush tonight.” Bucky shrugged pushing his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“That’s a great idea! What do you think Y/N?” Cherry asked, her green eyes sparkled with excitement.

“Fine. What time?” You sighed leaning against the doorframe leading to the kitchen wearing a defeated look.

“9 and we’ll meet the guys there!” Cherry beamed squeezing Bucky’s forearm.

“Okay, James if you’re gonna be here you're gonna have to help.” You said making him shake his head.

“‘Fraid I can’t. I’m running some errands for my boss and thought I’d stop in to say hello.” He explained as he took a chocolate chip cookie from the free cookie jar, and let out a hum of contentment after taking a bite. “Still the best cookies in Brooklyn.” He mumbled kissing Cherry and waving to you before leaving, the bell ringing out again.

Cherry arrived at your apartment at around 7 to begin getting ready. You opted for a navy blue wrap dress with silver heels while Cherry chose a light pink strapless cocktail dress with gold heels.

“Nervous?” She asked as she wrapped your hair around the curling wand.

“I mean a bit but not really. I'm not expecting this to lead to anything or go anywhere” You shrug looking at Cherry through the mirror.

“Let’s make a deal. If this date is half as bad as you’re expecting it to be then I will never try to set you up with anyone ever again. But if it goes amazingly I expect to be maid of honor at the wedding.” She chuckled.

“Fine. You got yourself a deal.” You nod as she finishes up with your hair. 

By the time you were both ready, it was nine in the evening. Cherry grabbed her gold leather clutch, a gift from James, and slipped her lipgloss and phone inside. “Bucky is on his way, he’ll be here in a few minutes. You ready to go?” She asked squeezing your hand, pulling you from whatever world you were in inside your head.

“Oh, uh- Yeah. Just let me grab my phone.” You sighed walking into your bedroom to grab your phone off its charger. Next to it on your nightstand was a picture of you and your parents from two Christmas’ ago. It was the last one you’d celebrated with them, since then you’d opted to celebrate with Cherry and her family.

“Y/N?” Cherry poked her head into the room. “He’s here, you good?” She asked, quirking her brow in concern.

“Yeah, let’s go.” You nod, grabbing your keys and clutch. You’d locked the door to your apartment before slipping your keys into your clutch, together you and Cherry made your way to the elevator, not daring to walk down the building’s steep staircases in heels. 

“Well, don’t you two look amazing?” Bucky asked as Cherry climbed into the front seat, and you into the back seat of the Rolls-Royce. The two of them kissed over the center console before James took the car out of park and began to drive through the streets of downtown Brooklyn.

As Bucky and Cherry began to catch up about their days you couldn’t help but stare out the window, your nerves were firing left and right, leaving you to play with the hem of your dress anxiously. 

“You okay Sour Patch?” Bucky asked looking through the review mirror, you shrugged your shoulders in response. “You should put sour patch kids in your cupcakes.” He smirked trying to distract you.

“Ew! No!” You scrunched up your nose in disgust. “Maybe as a topping on a vanilla cupcake with my mom's watermelon frosting or strawberry frosting. But inside the cupcake? You’re insane Barnes.” You chuckled as you guys pulled up to the nightclub. 

The outside of the building was white, the words ‘Star Spangled Club’ illuminated in red and blue, and the line to get in wrapped almost around the building. Bucky pulled up to the valet, the three of you climbing out. He grabbed onto Cherry’s hand and she grabbed onto yours to get you through the crowd, together you walked up to the bouncer, and James whispered something to him making him step aside and unhook the blue velvet rope to let you three in.

Once inside music played loudly, multicolored lights flashed as the fog machine covered the ground with a dense haze as people flooded the dance floor. The place itself smelled of booze, sweat, and citrus. Bucky directed you and Cherry up a staircase leading you to a more quiet space above the dance floor where the music didn’t play as loudly. 

“Steve will be a few minutes. He’s wrapping up a business deal.” Bucky stated as the three of you scooted into a round booth, Cherry between you and him. 

You shot them a confused glance as Cherry shook her head. “Shit, sorry I forgot to tell you. He owns the place, and a few other businesses in the city.” She apologized.

“So he’s a CEO of some kind?” You asked Bucky who shrugged.

“Not quite.” He shook his head. 

After a few minutes of small talk among you three, a tall man with dirty blonde hair, blue eyes, and a thick dark brown beard slid in next to James. He practically took your breath away, the sleeves of his impossibly-tight blue button-up rolled up to his elbows showing off the muscles on his arms and upper back. He offered you a small smile and a nod before turning to Bucky who seemed a bit too interested in sticking his tongue down Cherry’s throat.

He cleared his throat making Bucky pull back and wipe his lips on the back of his hand. “Hey, punk when did you get here?” He smirked, blush creeping up Cherry’s neck and cheeks. 

The man who you now assumed was Steve rolled his eyes, a small chuckle escaping his pink lips. “A few minutes ago, though I think you were a bit too occupied to notice. Are they always like this?” Steve asked you, a smile tugging on the corners of his lips.

“All the time.” You laughed quietly, blush making your cheeks feel warm.

“Oh, right! Steve this is Y/N, Y/N this is Steve.” Cherry said gesturing between the two of you.

“Nice to meet you.” He nodded.

“It’s nice to meet you too.” You smiled politely.

“Cherry and I are going to get drinks for everyone so you guys can get to know each other. What do you two want?” Bucky asked as Steve stood up so he and Cherry could slide out. 

“Strawberry Daquiri.” You replied.

“Whiskey,” Steve said as he sat back down across from you. You two watched as Bucky squeezed Cherry’s ass cheek before making their way to the stairs.

“They’re definitely gonna go have sex in the bathroom.” You sighed leaning back into the leather cushioning of the booth.

“Or an office.” Steve nodded in agreement making you snicker quietly.

“How long have you and James been friends?” You asked, crossing your legs.

“Since elementary school. I had a thing for picking fights on the playground despite my size, Bucky would tend to end the fights on my behalf.” Steve explained leaning his forearms against the wooden table top.

“Have a thing against staying down?” You asked curiously.

“If you do, they may never let you get back up. How long have you and Charlotte been friends?” He asked, his blue eyes scanning over you.

“Since third grade. She punched the little boy pulling my pigtails, made him lose a tooth. Seems like she and James are a perfect match.” You chortled, and he laughed. That was a sound you could definitely get used to hearing.

“Bucky tells me you own a bakery a few blocks over?” He questioned.

“Ah, yes. Sweet Tooth, I inherited it from my parents.” You explained, looking down at your hands. Dead parents aren’t exactly your favorite first date subject.

“My mom used to get their cupcakes for birthdays, and their pumpkin bread when it was in season.” Steve had a glazed-over look in his eyes before he shook his head and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry about your parents, I get how it feels.” He sighed and you reached for one of his hands which he willingly gave you and gave it a small squeeze. His hand was warm and rough with calluses and a small part of you didn’t want to let go.

“It’s alright. The recipes are still the same if you ever wanna stop by, and it’ll be pumpkin bread season in a few weeks.” You sighed as you let his hand go and pulled it back to your side of the table.

“I may just have to take you up on that.” He smiled. You both locked eyes for a few moments, silence falling between you. He opened his mouth as though he was going to say something but was quickly interrupted by Bucky setting the drinks down on the table.

His shirt was slightly wrinkled and disheveled while Cherry no longer had eyeliner and her hair was slightly frizzed up in the back. You gave Cherry a knowing smirk before Steve got up to let them back into their seats.

“...So? How are things coming along?” Cherry dragged out her words in a giddy manner, her voice a little rough sounding.

You and Steve looked at each other before bursting into a fit of laughter. “Bathroom or office?” Steve asked between giggles.

“Bathrooms were closer,” Bucky grumbled only making you and Steve laugh harder and causing blush to rise up Cherry’s face.

“I’ll take it you two are getting along.” She mumbled taking a sip of her drink.

“Beautifully,” Steve said as you two clinked your glasses together. 

As the rest of the night went on you and Steve seemed to be getting along just fine, and eventually it was just the two of you after Cherry and Bucky called it a night. So you two moved down to the pool table that was just below the VIP loft.

“You’re going down Sweets.” Steve teased as you leaned over to hit the cue ball, knocking one of the striped balls into the hole.

“You were saying?” You quirked an eyebrow and rested your hands and chin on the cue stick.

Steve studied the table before lining up his shot and hitting three of the solid-colored balls into the holes in the corner. “Good luck.” He winked, and you swore you felt butterflies erupt in your stomach. 

Taking a breath to calm your pounding heart you studied the table, there was no chance of you getting a striped ball into a hole on this turn but you could hit one to nudge it closer. So you stepped slightly to the left of Steve and leaned over to hit the cue ball, just narrowly missing your target. “Shit.” You groaned as Steve smirked to himself.

“So close sweetheart,” Steve said, his hand brushing your upper back before he stood to your right knocking two more balls into the holes. He only had two more balls left before he could start aiming for the eight-ball.

You really had to think this one through, there were striped balls scattered around but if you hit the cue ball just right you could sink 4 of them in one go. So you carefully lined up your shot and hit the ball, making the four striped balls you were aiming for scatter and roll into the corner holes. Now you two were about even.

Steve straightened his stance as he looked over the table. He wouldn't have a clean shot this round, not without sinking one of your balls. “Oh however will he do it?” You teased as he lined up his shot sinking one of his balls and yours. 

“Your turn.” He smirked, watching as you leaned down to line up your shot, you watched as the white cue ball smacked onto the last striped ball knocking it into the middle hole. From there you now had an extra turn to attempt to get the 8-ball into a hole. So once again you line up your shot and just narrowly miss the 8-ball.

“And she misses!” Steve teased from behind you making you roll your eyes. 

“Alright, Rogers be my guest.” You say, stepping to the side to watch him. Like you he had also sunk his lost ball and was now lining up his shot to attempt to sink the 8-ball which was currently the last ball on the table. You watch as the cue ball smacks against the solid black ball making a crack sound, and it just barely rolled into the hole before stopping just on the edge. 

He had set your next turn up perfectly. All you had to do was line up your cue pole just right and you’d have no problem. The second you hit the cue ball and it smacked into the 8-ball it had rolled into the hole and you raised your arms into the air triumphantly.

When you looked back at Steve he was grinning at you. It made your cheeks heat up as you passed him your cue pole. “Good game Sweets.” He nodded, his smile still hadn't fallen.

As you looked around you, the club wasn't nearly as packed as it was when you had arrived. “It's getting pretty late. Do you need a ride home?” Steve asked as he returned from the pole rack.

When you looked into your clutch, you’d realized you’d completely forgotten your wallet in the rush to leave, and that meant you couldn't pay for an Uber home. “Seeing as Cherry and James brought me here, and I forgot my wallet at home… Yeah, if you don't mind.” You sighed looking up at him. 

“Of course, just let me go grab my things from my office. You can follow me if you want.” He said, sliding his phone into his back pocket. 

You nodded and began to follow him through the last of the lingering crowd and into the employees only door, the hallway was brightly lit and a lot quieter than the dance floor. The bass a dull thud as you two walked side by side in silence. You watched as Steve pulled out his keys and unlocked the big oak door before walking into his office.

Inside was a large dark wooden desk, with two black leather chairs facing it, against the opposite wall was a black leather couch with royal blue throw pillows. Steve walked behind his desk and used his keys again to open one of the drawers where he grabbed his wallet and car keys before closing the drawer again and walking back over to you.

“Ready?” He asked as you two stepped outside of his office. With a nod you guys began the walk back down the hallway. There was no longer any loud music playing meaning they were trying to close for the night. You managed to take a peak at your phone for the time, only to notice it was now two in the morning. Luckily for you Cherry was in charge of opening tomorrow.

As you finally made it to the parking lot, he lead you to a blue Audi A7 and opened the passenger door for you and ushered you inside before shutting the door. Once he got inside and you gave him your address, you guys fell into a comfortable silence as Steve sped through the streets of Brooklyn.

Unfortunately your time together had come to an end as he pulled up to your apartment building, and for the first time after a date you really didn’t want to go and by the looks of it Steve didn’t want this to end either. 

“I had a good time.” You whisper looking up into his blue eyes.

“Do you wanna do this again?” He asked, making a smile spread across your lips.

“I would love to.” You exclaimed, a smile tugging on the corner of his lips.

“Friday sound good?” He asked as you nodded rapidly.

“Perfect.” You grinned as you got out of the car.

“I’ll see you then Sweets.” He nodded, watching as you walked through the glass doors of your apartment building before leaving.

Once you got inside, you toed off your heels and hung your keys up on the hook before walking into your room and flopping down on the bed. Cherry was right, which meant she was to be your maid of honor IF you and Steve get married, but it also meant you were so hopelessly screwed.

A/N: I'm so sorry this took so long, life just got a bit hectic (And it's definitely still hectic, college is insane) because of that I won't be having a set upload schedule but this story will be updated as often as I can but I hope you guys enjoyed chapter one. More to come!

-Hailey

[kumeko]

A/N: For the Slumbering Princess zine! It’s too bad Flayn can’t interact with her family as family, or even all of her family (dragon uncles are so remote and such shut in hermits).   

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…

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i. 

Cethleann was warm. She probably shouldn’t be, considering the cool breeze blowing off the ocean. It ruffled her long hair, sending goosebumps down her neck. Her woolen top felt like it had holes in it. The salt in the air stung her skin. On another day, she would have shivered and considered going home. 

Today, though, was special. Today was the yearly fishing trip. Keeping her grip on her fishing rod firm, Cethleann peeked to her right. Her father sat next to her, his expression troubled as he glared at the water. His gloves were off, as though that would improve his chances. She peeked to her left. Her mother chuckled softly as she loosened her fishing line. The metal bucket beside her was filled to the brim with fish. As usual, it was effortless for her.

Sandwiched between her parents, Cethleann didn’t—couldn’t notice the cold. Things were always better when they were together. She didn’t even mind sitting on the hard, wooden dock, her feet skimming the water whenever she swung them.

“I do not think I am doing this right,” her father finally said, breaking the silence as he ran an irritated hand through his green hair. His grip on his rod slackened, his usually stiff shoulders slumping slightly.

Cethleann giggled. Her father was good at almost everything else he did, whether it was helping Aunt Rhea or meticulously keeping up with the housework. Many sang his praises whenever they went to town. It was only here by the seashore that Cethleann could catch him fumbling like she did during her lessons. 

It was only here that she felt like she had a little of her father in her.

“Now, now, dear.” Her mother chuckled again and Cethleann realized that her mother had been watching her father from the corner of her eye the entire time. She didn’t bother to hide her mirth as she reached over Cethleann and patted his cheeks lightly.  “I thought you had patience.”

“I do not feel that patience will improve the matter,” her father replied grumpily, scowling at his rod. Despite his words, he leaned into her mother’s touch, his eyes half-closed as he surrendered. He sighed softly. “I simply do not have the talent for this.”

Cethleann smiled brightly. They had this conversation every week. It gave her a warm, bubbly feeling, like she was sinking into a warm bath or when her parents surprised her with dessert. There was no place safer, no place better than right here, between the two people she loved the most. 

Actually, there was only one place better, and that would be if she was also between her aunt and uncles, if her entire family had gone fishing. If there were rowdy laughter and bawdy jokes and her father trying to cover her ears, telling her she was too young to hear such things. 

She tugged her father’s sleeve, directing his attention to her. “I can help. Mother says I’m improving.”

Her father glanced down, his expression soft. “You take after her.”

“She takes after us.” Her mother reached down and ruffled Cethleann’s hair. “Good girl, though if he really doesn’t improve after this, he’s a hopeless man.”

Her father flinched. “Hopeless?” 

“Don’t worry.” Her mother leaned over and pecked his cheek. “I adore this side of you too.”

It was like a scene out of a romance book. A happily-ever-after. Cethleann wondered if she’d ever find a love like theirs.

ii.

Flayn was cold. It was silly, honestly—she was fishing from a teeny-tiny pond, there was no reason to feel a temperature drop. The monastery was behind her, blocking out the wind from one direction. She even had her fur-trimmed coat on to stave off the fall chill. Now centuries old, she wasn’t a child anymore, and a day like this should be nothing.

Yet she couldn’t stop the shiver running down her spine, couldn’t stop the goosebumps on her skin. Couldn’t stop herself from glancing to her right every few seconds, at the gap between her and Seteth. It felt like it grew bigger every year. It felt like he never noticed it. His gaze was focused on the water, his expression carefully neutral. The rod in his fingers didn’t so much as tremble as he sat still as a statue.

In the past few centuries, his profile had grown sterner and sterner until Flayn couldn’t see the man who’d fumble every time he tried to bait his hook. 

She wondered if he could still see the daughter who used to get squished between her parents.

She wondered if he ever looked to her left, searching for a face that wouldn’t appear. Flayn didn’t dare turn that way. Even now, she half-expected her mother to slip into place, smiling and laughing. Her arms would wrap around Flayn tightly as she teased Seteth, asking just when did he learn how to fish? 

It would never happen. Her mother was no more, just as Cichol and Cethleann were no more. Now they were just Seteth and Flayn. Brother and sister. Teacher and loafer. They’d shed almost everything that connected them to their past—names, clothing, ties. Only this annual fishing trip remained, and even it was starting to fall apart.

Flayn stared at the water listlessly, her grip on her rod limp. She hadn’t realized how long a day could be until she had nothing to do, how quiet it could get when there was no one to talk to.

How lonely the world was when you had to start lying about every part of yourself.

A hand gripped her shoulder and she looked up to find Seteth studying her anxiously. His rod lay on the dock. “Are you cold? We can call it a day.”

“Huh?” Caught off-guard, Flayn almost dropped her rod into the pond. His touch left her flustered. “No, it’s, it’s not…” 

“We can do this again later,” Seteth added, still watching her carefully as he lowered his arm. She could count the lines on his face, most of them from worry rather than laughter.

“It’s not that, Fa—” Flayn caught herself just in time. Even here, with just the two of them, she couldn’t utter the word father. Sometimes, she didn’t trust calling him that in her mind. “Brother.”

The word felt like molasses in her throat. It was safety, Seteth had said. No one will be able to recognize us.

Even I can’t recognize us, Flayn thought bitterly as she glared at the space between them. That space, more than the words, hurt. It was like they had a wall between them, keeping the distance her father so desperately wanted. 

“I’m fine,” she lied. They rarely got to spend time together anymore, just the two of them. Changing the topic, she asked, “Do you think Aunt Rhea will come?”

It was a silly hope. Every year, Flayn invited her aunt, and every year, her aunt politely declined. Still, they were on the school grounds. Rhea wouldn’t even have to travel this time. The possibility existed.

“Rhea…” Seteth trailed off, his expression growing troubled as he stared at the water. They’d been fighting these days, something about a new professor joining the school. Sometimes she feared her already splintered family would crumble even further. “I don’t think so.”

“Oh.” Flayn bit her lip as she kept the disappointment out of her voice. “I see.” 

iii.

Flayn was freezing. No, not just her, her surroundings were frozen too. Even the lake in front of her was covered in a thin layer of ice, the small hole she cut in it revealing the icy waters below. 

In hindsight, she should have expected this; her uncles were never found in the nice, easily reached places of the world, after all. No, they preferred the cold, hostile environments, far beyond the touch of man. Even Indech, the friendliest of her uncles, lived in the stark wilderness. The only good thing about it was that their homes were far from society, untouched by the war burning the world down around them.

It was the perfect place for Flayn to hide while Seteth searched for Rhea, while her classmates disappeared back to their estates.

Flayn shivered. Today, she was alone. Today, there was no one on her left or right, no other fishing line but her own. Today, her classmates weren’t chattering, taunting one another over their catches or teasing her for her obsession with fish.

She had forgotten how lonely solitude could be.

The earth shuddered and Flayn flinched. She’d almost forgotten that she wasn’t entirely alone, though who could blame her with how little Indech spoke. She looked up to find him approaching her, the ground quaking with each step he took. When he was close enough, he sprawled on his stomach. His humongous form blocked the northern breeze.

“Cold, little one?” Indech asked, his voice gravely and low. 

She smiled softly. “Not anymore.” Flayn glanced at the fishing hole. It was impossible to see within its dark depths. “Though I think you scared the fish away.”

“They’ll return, they always do.” Even her uncle’s breathing was loud and Flayn knew instinctively she wouldn’t catch anything else today. “You seem down, Cethleann.”

Flayn felt a pleasant tingle at her old name. It had been far too long since she’d last heard it. Wiggling her feet happily, she shook her head. “Not really, uncle.”

“Is that so?” he replied in a voice that told her he saw right through her lie. “Either way, I am glad you visited.”

It had been a while. Sheepishly, she inspected her rod, staring at it so she wouldn’t look at her uncle. “There’s a war and…it’s kept everyone busy. There’s a lot of important things to do, after all.”

“War. Even now, humans do not change,” Indech grunted dismissively. She couldn’t deny his words; they’d both seen kingdoms rise and fall to the whims of battle. “Is that why Cichol isn’t here with you?”

“That…” Flayn gripped her fishing rod tightly. “There’s a lot to do. He doesn’t have time.”

“Him and Seiros both, I see.” Indech clicked his teeth. “No matter, I will keep you company.”

Flayn turned, staring at her uncle in surprise. “Really?”

“Do I say things idly, Cethleann?” Indech snorted, put out. 

“N-no, it’s just…” Flayn fiddled with her fingers, not sure how to explain the warmth bubbling within her. It reminded her of long ago, of memories with her mother, of memories that had faded with the passage of time. “I thought you didn’t like visitors.”

“I’m not Macuil,” Indech grumbled. “I enjoy meeting others.”

She frowned and gestured around her. “Uncle, it’s a little hard to believe that when you live in the middle of nowhere.”

“That was my choice,” Indech replied simply. “That doesn’t mean it is your choice.”

Flayn stared at him blankly. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

“Simply this, little one.” Indech smiled, all teeth. “If you want to visit, visit. If you don’t, don’t. We chose to live alone, not to be alone. You can do whatever you want. It is okay to ask for more if that is what you wish.”

Flayn’s eyes widened and she jerked her head away. Staring down at the water, at her rippling reflection, she mumbled, “But won’t that be an inconvenience?”

“Maybe.” Indech shrugged and the earth quaked. “Yet, that is your right. You’re allowed to be selfish, Cethleann.”

“You won’t…hate me?” she asked quietly, fingers shaking as she gripped her rod tightly. 

“Never.” Indech rumbled. “We are all happy to see you.”

Tears welled in her eyes and she tried and failed to rub them away. Flayn gave a shaky laugh. “Even Macuil?”

Indech chuckled. “Even he looks forward to your visits. If anything, I don’t think you bother him enough.”

“He’ll get angry if you say that.” Flayn laughed again, the sound more stable this time. “I…I think I need to go talk to Set—Father.” She squeezed her hand into a fist, drawing her courage into it. “I’m sorry, I’ll come back again later.”

“That’s fine little one.” Indech rumbled as he watched her pack up her gear. “Make sure that scamp comes with you next time.”

Flayn smiled. “Yeah.”

iv.

Flayn was warm. It was early spring, and there were still traces of winter lingering in the grass and trees. Small chunks of snow that weren’t ready to melt and disappear. A gentle breeze blew, bringing with it memories of the cold. 

Yet, Flayn couldn’t feel any of that. She was sandwiched, her shoulders and thighs bumping against her companions. Peeking to her right, she found her father sitting right next to her, as though the distance of hundreds of years had melted with the ice. On her left, Rhea stared at her rod as though it were made to annoy her. 

“I do not think I can do this,” Rhea uttered, breaking the silence. She stared out at the water. “Are you sure there are fish?”

“Plenty.” Flayn giggled, remembering a conversation hundreds of years ago. It was funny what stayed the same and what changed. “We have a bucket full.”

“It takes patience,” Seteth added, sparing Rhea a glance. While his expression wasn’t quite teasing, it was light. “You are good at that.”

“I can help,” Flayn added, grinning up at her aunt. It was nice to sit beside her for once. “It’s easy once you learn the basics.”

“Cethleann’s a good teacher,” Seteth added, squeezing Flayn’s shoulders. 

Her name. Flayn flushed, blinking back tears. “Set—” She cut herself off, remembering her uncle’s words. “Father.”

Seteth flinched but didn’t say anything. His hand gripped her tighter. 

It was enough. It was more than enough. Years would pass before they were Cichol and Cethleann, father and daughter once more, but it would happen. As long as she wanted it to, it would happen.

For today, though, she was content with just having her family at her side, regardless of how they addressed each other.