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estrellami-1 · 2 days ago

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Stay for Dinner (Stay Forever)

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Steve had never been more scared in his life.

He’d been through some things, he thought. Things that changed you as a person, probably. But now he understands why humans are apex predators.

Because he’s being hunted.

He’d started following Steve a few blocks back. He doesn’t have anything on him, pepper spray or a knife. He has keys and fear on his side.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he chastises himself, blinking tears away and speeding up the tiniest bit. He sees, in the reflection of shop windows across the street, he’s matching Steve’s pace.

Fuck.

He doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know who to ask for help, when he suddenly sees someone.

He’s an Alpha, Steve can tell right away, even though he’s not as strong-looking as other Alphas. He’s intimidating enough, all leather and chains and wild hair and tattoos, and Steve doesn’t know much about this punk kind of community, but he knows it’s a community, knows this is the safest person he’s gonna find.

He speeds up the tiniest bit more, is practically jogging when he reaches the man. “Baby!” He exclaims, throwing his arms around the man.

The man startles, but seems to catch on quickly, wrapping his own arms around Steve’s waist. “Hey, darlin’,” he says happily, loud enough it carries. “How was your day?”

“Alright,” Steve admits, letting out a little chuckle full of stress.

“Yeah? What made it just alright?” He questions, stepping back to wrap his arm loosely around Steve’s waist, the barest hint of pressure to suggest they keep walking the direction Steve was heading.

Steve thinks, silently, he could fall in love with this man. He’s halfway there based on scent alone.

“Oh, you know.” He keeps his tone light, pretends to look at the man holding him. Actually looks past him, to more shop windows. The man who was following him disappears down a side street, and Steve feels so relieved he nearly collapses.

“Oh, hell,” he breathes out, stepping back and gusting out a sigh. “I’m so sorry, fuck, he was- he was following me, and I wasn’t sure what to do-”

The alpha shushes him. “Hey, hey, hey, you’re okay. I get it, I saw him, and hey, I’ve definitely been in worse situations than a pretty omega throwing themself at me.” His eyes twinkle, inviting Steve in on the joke.

He chuckles a little. “Seriously, thank you so much.” He puts a hand on his chest. His hand is still shaking. “I don’t think I’ve ever been that scared.”

“It’s okay,” he soothes. “I don’t know that either of us want you going anywhere alone right now, though. Do you have someone you can call? I’m sure we can pop into any of these places and you could ask to use their phone.”

Steve feels a whine build in his throat. “I don’t- don’t have anyone, I’m new here, my roommate is my absolute best friend in the world but she’s busy, and anyways she’s half an hour away, and-” his breath catches on the whine, brings it out on the exhale.

“Hey, you’re okay,” he promises. “Would it be okay if I came with you? Or is there a different designation or gender you’d rather escort you? I’m sure we could find someone.”

“No, it’s-” Steve takes a couple of deep breaths. Wills his voice to stop shaking. “It’s fine, you can- if you’re not busy-”

“I’m not,” he confirms. “And I’d love to walk you wherever you’re going.” He pulls back and extends a hand, grinning. “I’m Eddie.”

“Steve,” he gusts out, grasping Eddie’s hand and shaking it. “Seriously, you don’t know how much I appreciate this.”

“It’s fine,” Eddie promises. “My best friend in the entire world is an omega. She’s used me to get away from Alpha creeps so many times, I’ve lost count.” He puts a hand on his chest, bows his head. “And I’d like to formally apologize on behalf of Alphas everywhere. I promise we’re not all creepy knotheads.”

Steve giggles. “I believe you,” he promises. “Thank you. Again. And… thank you for making me feel like it’s okay.”

“It is okay,” Eddie tells him immediately. “That guy’s a real creep, and if I ever see him again, I’m probably just gonna punch him in the face. No words, not a hey, how’re you doing, just bam! Right in the schnoz.”

Steve giggles again. “I’d pay to see that.”

Eddie pouts at him, offers his arm as they continue walking. “You don’t think I could take him? I know I’m scrawny but I’m hiding some muscle, okay, I- well, I was gonna say I work out, but that would be a lie. The most working out I do is moving amps, setting up for a show.”

“You work for a band? Or- a venue, or something?”

“You could say that,” Eddie agrees, letting go of Steve to hop a couple steps in front of him and bow. “You are looking at the frontman of heavy metal band Corroded Coffin.”

“Oh,” Steve says, nonplussed, “I thought you were punk.”

“Punk?” Eddie exclaims. “An affront to my culture! An affront to metalheads everywhere! An affront to me!” He mimes stabbing himself in the heart, dropping in a heap to the pavement.

It makes Steve laugh as he nudges Eddie’s knee with his toe. “Eddie? Oh no, he’s dead. Guess I’ll have to go on alone, with no one to protect me.”

“And I’m revived!” Eddie exclaims, jumping to his feet. His hair falls in his face, and he spits it out of his mouth as he swipes wildly at it.

Steve laughs, moves in closer to help. He meticulously separates Eddie’s bangs from the rest of his hair, then steps back with a light flush dusting his cheeks, realizing how close they were. “There,” he murmurs.

“My hero,” Eddie intones, sweeping low into a bow again before standing straight up and once again offering Steve his arm.

He accepts, and they walk on together.

His apartment isn’t too far, only about fifteen minutes, and it seems much shorter than usual because of the easy conversation flowing. When they get to Steve’s apartment, he sees Robin’s car and grins at Eddie, motioning him inside. “Rob,” he calls, “I brought my boyfriend!”

She bursts out of her room. “Steve!” She yells, pulling him into a hug. She pulls back to study them. “You’ve never met this man before, you slut,” she tells him affectionately. “Hi, Robin Buckley, who are you?” She thrusts a hand Eddie’s direction.

He grins and shakes. “Eddie Munson, at your service.”

“Hi,” she agrees, then taps Steve rapidly on his shoulder. “Explain. Why do you scent stressed?” She presses her nose into his neck. “It’s old but still there. What happened, Dingus?”

“I was being followed,” he tells her.

“A creepy knothead variety of our designation,” Eddie explains.

“I saw Eddie and he was the first person who looked… safe.”

“He jumped me,” Eddie agrees, smirking at Steve. “Not really beating the slut allegation, sweetheart.”

“Oh, shut up,” Steve tells him, laughing.

“I noticed what was happening,” Eddie continues. “Played along. Creep Alpha left, but-”

“I didn’t want to be alone,” Steve admits. “And I knew you were busy, and way far out, and we don’t know anyone else in this godforsaken city.”

“Now you do,” Eddie tells him.

“Now I do,” Steve agrees softly.

“Eddie Munson,” Robin murmurs, studying him with narrowed eyes. “Why do I know that name?”

“Um,” Eddie says, “are you into metal? I’m in a band.”

Robin snaps her fingers at him, expression brightening. “Corroded Coffin!”

Eddie’s eyes sparkle. “Holy shit, yes! Have you seen us?”

“Oh, no,” Robin laughs. “Not really my scene. But there’s this pup we knows who’s absolutely obsessed. Never shuts up about you.”

Steve frowns. “Dustin?”

“Yeah, Dingus.”

“But I thought he was always going on about the other band.”

“Ah, yes, because as we all know, you can only ever like one band at a time.” She hits him with an extremely judgy expression. “Do you listen when your child talks?”

“Hey, if he’s mine he’s yours, and you know I don’t.”

“Um,” Eddie says, “child?”

“Not actually mine,” Steve reiterates. “But also basically yeah. And yes, he’s obsessed.”

A slow grin creeps across Eddie’s face. “In that case, do you want to do the funniest thing ever?”

Steve’s eyes spark as a manic grin makes its way onto Robin’s lips. “Oh, hell yeah,” Steve agrees.

They work out the plan: invite Dustin over, have Eddie be the one to open the door.

“Hey, little dude,” Steve says into the phone. “You busy for the next little bit?”

“Uh,” Dustin says, sounding distracted, “yeah? I’ve got a test due tonight, a paper due Friday, and then it’s prep for finals. Why?”

“Just, uh. Wanted to see if you wanted to come over,” Steve says weakly. “But if you’re busy-”

“Rain check,” Dustin decides. “Three weeks from Friday?”

Eddie, who’s standing close enough to hear, shrugs and nods at Steve’s questioning look. “Sure, bud,” Steve tells him. “Three weeks from Friday.”

“Okay, great,” Dustin says. “See you!” And hangs up.

Steve pouts at the phone for a second. “No respect,” he sighs.

“Aw, Stevie,” Eddie playfully pouts, “I’m sure your pup loves you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Steve rolls his eyes, but smiles at Eddie.

“What does the rest of your day look like?”

“I do believe the rest of my day depends entirely on what you’re planning with me.” He leans against the wall, shoulders curved toward Steve, who smiles rather bashfully.

“Would you like to stay for dinner?”

Back in her room, Robin calls, “would you like to stay forever?”

Steve instantly blushes firetruck red. “Feel free to ignore her,” he tells Eddie. “She likes to quote movies at the absolute worst time.”

“Oh, I dunno,” Eddie murmurs. His cheeks are dusted pink. “I dunno about forever, not yet, but I certainly wouldn’t mind staying for dinner.”

“Okay,” Steve murmurs. “Chicken work for you?”

“Chicken,” Eddie murmurs back. “Sure.”

Neither of them look away from each other.

The days turn into weeks. That first day—first night, really—Eddie was there, they’d exchanged numbers.

Steve talks to Eddie on the phone most nights. The nights he doesn’t, he’s with Eddie.

At first they’re just friendly. Friends. But there’s something deeper and they both sense it. Eddie’s rosemary-and-walnut scent mixes perfectly with Steve’s lemon-basil. Robin complains about getting hungry around them, and they just laugh, knowing she’s teasing.

Still, that something deeper is there, is entirely present, and Steve knows, and Eddie knows, and he knows Eddie knows he knows. They’re both inching toward a free fall.

There’s one night they’re in Eddie’s apartment. What Corroded Coffin sales don’t cover—which is most of it, Eddie had explained—his shifts at the mechanic shop do. He gets home, weary and grease-covered, and Steve had already let himself in, was making dinner for the two of them.

“Stevie,” Eddie groans, the second he steps foot in the door.

Steve clenches his thighs at the bolt of want that spears through him.

He laughs it off, halfway turns to meet Eddie’s gaze. “Yeah?”

“Fuck, smells amazing,” he breathes. “I’m so hungry I could eat a dragon. Do you know how big those are? And I mean a whole dragon, too, an adult, not a tiny baby one.”

“You’re hungry,” Steve summarizes.

“Starving,” Eddie agrees, brushing a kiss on his cheek before moving off to his bedroom to change.

Steve freezes. Hears the moment Eddie realizes what he’s done.

He’s got a choice to make, he knows. He could pretend like nothing happened. Things would be awkward, for a minute, but they’d get past it.

He could address it. Eddie might get nervous or defensive. Might not react well. Worse yet, he might say he didn’t mean to.

Or…

He sends out a happy, pleased scent, more honey-lemon than usual, and continues cooking.

He hears Eddie walk tentatively out of his bedroom. Hears the moment his feet hit kitchen tile and he smells Steve. “Oh,” Eddie whispers.

“Go change,” Steve murmurs lightly. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

“Yeah,” Eddie responds. Steve can hear the smile. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he parrots.

He plates the food, and Eddie comes out just as he’s putting the plates on the table, wrapping him up in a hug. His nose dips closer to his scent gland than is strictly friendly, and Steve sends out more of the happy honey scent.

“Baby,” Eddie murmurs. “Yeah?”

Steve leans back into him, lets him support his weight. “Yeah,” he whispers, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s, around his waist.

He gets Eddie’s happy scent for his efforts, woodsmoke and petrichor filling his nostrils as he inhales.

They talk during dinner. About what they’re feeling, what they’re looking for. “Sweetheart,” Eddie tells him. He’s liberal with the terms of endearment, which Steve definitely likes. “I liked you the minute you threw yourself at me, trying to get away from that creep.” He inches his hands over the table, grabbing Steve’s. “But I fell for you the minute you laughed.”

Steve blinks. “The minute I laughed?”

“Mhm,” Eddie nods. “I believe I was apologizing on behalf all Alphas everywhere, who aren’t raging knotheads. You giggled, and you said I made you feel safe, and I looked in your eyes and fell in.” He shrugs. “And, I mean, you know our scents are compatible.”

“More than that,” Steve murmurs.

Eddie nods. “Exactly! And I-” he gusts out a breath. “Hell, Steve, I’m terrified. I don’t know how to be in love. But if it means a future with you? I’d do anything.”

“Love?” Steve asks, scarcely able to breathe.

Eddie bites his lip, grips Steve’s fingers a little bit harder. “Yeah.”

Steve abandons his food, rounding the table and collapsing onto Eddie’s lap. “I love you too,” he whispers. “I know it’s really early, but…”

“No take-backs.” Eddie smiles, pokes his side. “‘S not too early if we both feel it. ‘S just right.”

“Just right,” Steve murmurs, a wondering smile on his face. Suddenly, it turns teasing. “Which one of us is Goldilocks, then?”

Eddie snickers. “Obviously you, you’ve got the hair. My hair’s more like one of the three bears.”

Steve laughs, tugs teasingly on a curl. “Yeah, but I like your hair.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. ‘S metal.”

“Oh, baby,” Eddie rumbles. “You tryin’a start somethin’?”

Steve hums, pulls back. “No, sorry. Just wanna be near you right now.” He looks up at Eddie. “Is that okay?”

“Perfect, baby,” Eddie agrees. He shifts, drags Steve’s plate closer. “Finish your food,” he suggests. “Then we can go watch a movie. Or call Robin, if I know you the way I think I do, this conversation isn’t going to be able to wait until you get home.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, “it probably can’t wait till tomorrow.”

Careful eyes watch Eddie’s reaction. He smiles, nuzzles the side of Steve’s head. “Definitely not,” he says. “That would be a complete violation of best friend code.” He pokes Steve’s thigh. “Can we call Chrissy after? Can she come over? She hasn’t met you yet.”

Steve narrows his eyes in thought. “Chrissy’s your omega friend, right?”

“She is.”

“And does she like women?”

Eddie laughs. “I like the way you think, baby! Call Robin first, get her over here, Chrissy lives closer than you two do. I’ll call her as soon as you’re off the phone with Robin, okay?”

Steve grins. “Sounds great.” He shovels the rest of his food in his mouth, as fast as he can, then runs to the phone.

Eddie’s not any slower. He doesn’t even finish, excitement pulling any remaining hunger away, and he ends up behind Steve, pulling him into a hug as he talks to Robin.

They hang up after only a couple of minutes, and Eddie dials Chrissy’s number. “Hey,” he says, barreling on before she can even say hi back. “You’ve got ten minutes to get over here if you wanna meet my omega.” He winks at Steve, who beams back at him. Honey and woodsmoke permeate the space, dancing around and melting into each other, creating a soothing blend of scents.

He gets off the phone and turns Steve to face him fully. “Hi,” he murmurs.

Steve giggles. “Hi.”

“Can I kiss you?”

Steve’s eyes widen, and his inhale turns into a gasp. “Please,” he breathes, and Eddie does.

They’re still kissing, just little pecks, by the time there’s a knock on the door, signifying Chrissy’s arrival.

They part just long enough for Eddie to open the door and hug Chrissy. Steve scoots in under Eddie’s arm, leans into him as he greets her. Strawberry pastries bloom as she grins. “It’s nice to finally put a face to the name.”

Steve giggles, shakes her proffered hand. “I agree. I’ve heard good things about you.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “And you don’t think it’s weird that he’s such good friends with an omega?”

Steve grins. “My Alpha best friend is on her way over as we speak. I’d argue I’m one of the few who really understands.”

“Then I’m sure we’ll be just fine,” Chrissy nods, walking into the kitchen and fetching herself a drink.

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs. “That’s Chrissy.”

“I heard that!” She calls.

Steve giggles. “I really don’t think you two can be worse than me and Robin.”

“That sounds like a challenge, baby.”

“It wasn’t,” Steve protests, laughing. “Not everything has to be a competition.”

“It doesn’t have to, but it’s more fun if it is.”

Steve snorts, rolls his eyes, shakes his head. “C’mon.” He motions to the kitchen, and Eddie walks with him.

“So, Steve,” Chrissy says, sitting on the counter. “How did you two meet?”

Steve grimaces. “It’s not a very happy story.”

She sighs. “What did he do?”

Steve blinks, then laughs. “Oh, no, he was great. It wasn’t him at all.”

“C’mon, Chris,” Eddie complains. “You should know me better than that by now.”

“I do know you and that’s exactly why I thought it was you,” she fires back, before looking back at Steve with a little nod.

“I, uh. Robin and I are new here, so I don’t really know anybody yet. I guess I do now, but I didn’t. I was walking and I saw this Alpha following me. And I even tried turning, to see if he was actually following me? And he was. And I didn’t- I had keys, I guess, if it came down to it, but I really didn’t want it to come down to it.” He grimaces, realizes the air is rank with rotted greens. He grimaces again, apologizes. Smiles when Eddie grumbles, pulls him in tighter, and presses a kiss to his temple.

“Want me to continue?”

Steve shakes his head, relaxes in Eddie’s hold. “I can. Just… got overwhelmed for a second.”

“It’s alright, baby. Take all the time you need.”

“I mostly understand anyways,” Chrissy says softly. “If you’d rather skip all that.”

Steve sighs. “He didn’t touch me, if that’s what you’re wondering,” he tells Chrissy. “I saw Eddie standing there, in front of me a little, and he was the first person who looked safe. So I just… pretended. I ran up to him and hugged him, and called him baby, loud enough the guy following me could hear. And thankfully Eddie caught on quickly. He jumped in, no hesitation, and the guy left, but… I was still rattled from it, y’know?”

“Definitely,” Chrissy nodded.

“So he walked me home, came in and met Robin, and… stayed for dinner.”

Eddie snickers. “I think I did what Robin asked, though. I’m staying forever.”

Steve rolls his eyes through his grin. “She’s gonna be insufferable about that.”

“That’s your best friend, baby.”

“Yes, I know,” Steve grouses. He’s still smiling.

Just then there’s another knock on the door, and Steve sprints to open it. “Robin!”

“Steve!” She greets him. He gives her a hug and pulls her into the kitchen. “Robin, meet Chrissy, Eddie’s best friend.”

Robin blinks. “Uh,” she says. “Hi.”

“Hi!” Chrissy says. “It’s really nice to meet you. Steve said you’re like me and Eddie! That’s cool!”

“Yeah,” Robin says, “except we were here first.” She immediately blanches. “Oh, fuck, sorry, no, that implies that what you have isn’t the same as what we have, which means I think you’re a liar, except I don’t think you’re a liar, I swear, I just-”

Aside to Eddie, Steve whispers, “should we give them the room?”

In lieu of an answer, Eddie wraps his arm around Steve and quietly walks them out of the kitchen.

In the living room, sounds are a little muffled, but Steve hears Robin’s ramblings broken up by a softer, higher voice—Chrissy—and soon they’re both talking, a low murmur that works as the background to the steady thump-thump of Eddie’s heart against his ear where his head is pillowed on Eddie’s chest. He yawns, curls in a little. “I could fall asleep like this.”

“I’m here if you want to,” Eddie murmurs, running a hand down Steve’s back. “I’ll be here. Take you to bed, if you want.”

Steve shakes his head. “I wanna stay out here. But if they stay in there for much longer, I’m gonna fall asleep. Especially if you keep that up.”

Eddie chuckles lightly, keeps rubbing his back. “You do that, baby.”

Steve does.

He wakes up slowly, later, in a way he hasn’t in so long. He’s used to his alarm blaring, shocking him awake, and the rare days he gets off he wakes up in a rush thinking he’s late for work. He rarely wakes up slowly like this, pushing his legs out to stretch, tilting his head up, humming when it puts his nose in contact with Eddie’s scent gland. Rosemary and woodsmoke seep into his nostrils, permeates every inch of his brain. He knows, distantly, he’s pumping out the honey again, but it’s unintentional, and he nearly falls back asleep. He drifts for a while, laying in that twilight of sleep, before Eddie shifts, waking up.

He puts a hand on Steve’s back, and Steve wakes up more, purrs. Eddie rumbles out an Alpha purr back. “Mornin’, baby,” he mumbles. Steve just hums again, and Eddie chuckles. “Not awake yet?”

Another hum. “Almost.”

“Take your time, sweetheart.” He rubs his hand down Steve’s back. “I’ll be here.”

Another hum. “When’id Robbie n’ Chrissy leave?”

“They didn’t stay for too long. They left at the same time, and Robin triple-checked that you’d be spending the night here.”

Steve nods sleepily. “‘S good.”

Eddie chuckles. “Yeah. You wanna wake up or go back to sleep, baby?”

“‘M awake.”

“Wasn’t really my question, but I think that might’ve answered it anyways.” He dips his head to press a kiss to Steve’s temple, and Steve purrs again. Or more. He’s not sure he ever stopped in the first place.

His purring is interrupted by a yawn. He opens his eyes with he finishes, blinks in the dim light of Eddie’s room. “Food?”

“I can make some,” Eddie agrees. “How’s eggs and toast sound?”

“And coffee?”

“And coffee,” Eddie chuckles. “You gonna let me up? Or are you planning on becoming a limpet in your next life and you’re getting a head-start now?”

“Wanna go with you.”

“You can, but that doesn’t negate the fact that we’ve still gotta get up.”

Steve huffs out a dramatic breath, rolls out of bed and onto his feet. Stretches, then realizes he’s in boxers. No pants. He squints at his bare legs, then at Eddie, who smiles. “I didn’t want you wearing jeans in bed, sweetheart, I know how uncomfortable that is. I can give you some pajama pants if you want.”

“Yes, please. And thank you.”

“You,” Eddie says, “are most welcome.” He rolls out of bed and strides to his dresser, tossing Steve a pair of red-and-black plaid sleep pants.

He dons his own, blue with pink polka-dots. Snickers when Steve looks between the two of them.

“You wanna know why I put these on? Instead of giving them to you?”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees. “You know I like those better.”

“I put them on,” he pauses for a taffy kiss, sweet and stretched-out, “so you can take them home with you tonight and put them in your nest.”

“Fuck, I love you,” Steve breathes.

Eddie pushes in for another kiss, this one impatient, hot and searing, licking across the seam of Steve’s mouth, pressing between his lips, bullying his way past Steve’s teeth until he can taste him, and it should be gross because neither of them have brushed their teeth yet but instead it’s just good in a way that makes his Alpha light up. “Love you,” he mutters against Steve’s lips, pulling back to tap Steve’s hand, still holding the plaid pants. “Get dressed, baby. I’ll start on breakfast.”

“No, wait for me!” Steve whines, frantically pushing his foot into the half-folded leg of the pants.

Eddie waits, so Steve slows down a little, letting the pants unfold before he shoves his legs through the holes.

They pad out to the kitchen together, where Steve sits on the counter while Eddie pops bread in the toaster and fries some eggs.

Eating is a quiet affair, Eddie hooking his ankle around Steve’s as soon as they sit down, just wanting to keep that touch.

Eventually Steve has to go get ready for work, so he heads home and nearly bumps into Chrissy as she’s walking down the steps of his apartment building. He grins at her. “Hello,” he says, “sleep well?”

She flushes, but winks at him, and he laughs.

He continues on, up to his apartment, where Robin’s waiting for him. She’s in the kitchen, nursing her second cup of coffee. Steve knows it’s her second because she always downs the first the moment it’s no longer scalding. “Well hello there,” she says, lecherous grin on her face. “And what did you get up to all night, might I ask?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “We literally just slept, Robs, I didn’t wake up until this morning. I did pass Chrissy on my way in, though.”

She nearly chokes on her coffee, blush staining her cheeks pink. She tries to wave him away, goes for the sappy comment. “I’ve never known you to fall asleep on someone you’ve only known a few weeks. It takes longer than that for you to be willing to invite someone into your pack.”

Steve flushes, holds up the pants Eddie had on. “Um,” he says, “surprise?”

Her mouth drops open. “You bitch!” She delightedly shrieks.

He giggles. “Guess you were right about me being a slut, huh?”

“You should know by now that I’m always right. And I thought you said you didn’t have sex?”

“Yeah, but I can still be a slut without having sex.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “That’s not how that works, at all, but also yes. You can. And only you, I think.” She shrugs, turns away to head to her room, bumping his arm with her shoulder. “You’re one of a kind.”

“Hell yeah I am.”

“I never said that was a good thing.” She disappears into her room, leaving Steve to stare after her.

To think she called him a bitch.

The week continues as it had gone before; he and Eddie still talk on the phone nightly, except now those are few and far between; they’re usually at an apartment, either bothering Robin or enjoying solitude with each other in Eddie’s apartment. On the nights when Steve doesn’t work the next day, he’ll stay over at Eddie’s.

He doesn’t entirely know what they’re waiting for. Why they haven’t had sex yet. They both want to, but it’s like there’s a lot whisper in the air, something murmuring not yet, it’s not time now, but soon. And honestly? Steve really enjoys the change of pace.

About a week later is the third Friday, the day Dustin’s coming over. Eddie gets there around noon, because when Dustin says six p.m., what he really means is whenever he feels like it.

That’s why, at a quarter after three, there’s a knock on the door.

Eddie slides in his socked feet over the hardwood, nearly running into the door and saving it at the last moment. Steve snorts.

Eddie throws open the door. “Ah, hello! You must be Dustin!”

“Oh holy shit,” Dustin says, blinking wide-eyed at Eddie. “You- you’re-”

“Wow,” Steve says, coming up to Eddie, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him speechless before.” He pats Eddie’s shoulder. “Good job.”

Eddie snorts. “Thanks?” He hip-checks Steve, sending a warm smile his way.

Steve grins back, moves to the kitchen. “In or out, Henderson, and close your mouth ‘fore you start catching flies like that Mona Lisa of yours.”

Dustin scurries inside. Eddie frowns. “Mona Lisa?”

“Yeah, he’s got one of those…” Steve waves a hand. “Plants that eat bugs.”

“Venus fly trap,” Dustin says. “You’re Eddie Munson.”

“I am.”

“And you’re in Steve’s apartment.”

“I am.”

Dustin pauses. “Why in the hell-”

Eddie wraps an arm around Dustin’s shoulders. “Ah, to be young and carefree, to know not the trap of a heart given to another-”

“He’s got a girlfriend,” Steve says, crossing his arms. “Trap?”

Eddie freezes. “Not trap. Uh… fuck, I wrote myself into a corner.” He releases Dustin, bounds up to Steve. Ducks his head and looks up at him. “Forgive me?”

Steve chuckles. “Dramatic dork,” he says, but presses a chaste kiss to Eddie’s lips.

“What the fuck?” Dustin screeches.

Steve winces. “Dude, language and volume, c’mon. Christ, it’s like you’ve never seen two people kiss before.”

“But you!” Dustin says emphatically. “Him! How?”

Steve exchanges a glance with Eddie, then sighs and tells Dustin how they met. “He escorted me home, met Robin, stayed for dinner…”

“Stayed forever,” Eddie mumbles in Steve’s ear.

Steve chuckles. “Even if I thought you were punk when I first met you?”

“You what?” Dustin hisses. They both ignore him.

“Even then,” Eddie promises. “Especially then, actually, as soon as people know I’m in a band they act different. You didn’t. Just kept talking to me like a normal dude.”

“Oh,” Dustin says suddenly. “Really?”

Eddie offers him a crooked smile. “Don’t sweat it, man, according to Robin you’re an actual, genuine fan. Already worlds ahead of the people who didn’t give me the time of day until they thought I could give them popularity.”

Dustin nods. “That makes sense,” he says. “Still. It sucks that people are like that.”

Eddie shrugs. “I feel sorry for ‘em. Chasing everything they can to get an inch closer to the top. What’re they gonna see once they get there? A whole lotta nothing. Plus,” he smiles at Steve, “it means we’re here, now.”

Steve leans against him. Eddie wraps his arms around his waist. “Together,” Steve agrees.

“Together,” Eddie parrots.

“Oh,” Dustin murmurs again. “You guys, like, actually love each other, don’t you?”

Steve tilts his head. “How’d you know?”

“The way you looked at each other,” he says honestly. “Like it belongs in a movie or something.”

“Oh,” Steve murmurs. Eddie’s arms tighten around his waist.

“You’re right,” Eddie tells Dustin. “We do.”

Steve snickers. “We do belong in a movie?”

Eddie laughs, dislodges Steve, swats at him until Steve swats back.

“Wow,” Dustin says, deadpan, “you two really do deserve each other. You’re both children.”

Steve exchanges a look with Eddie. They both charge Dustin, who chants, “Shit, shit, shit!” as he runs for the living room.

Eddie catches him around the waist, throws them both onto the couch, where they lay, giggling and panting.

Steve laughs, sitting on the chair to the left of the couch. “Speaking of children,” he asks Dustin, “do you want to call the rest of the Party?”

Dustin’s eyes gleam. “Holy shit, yes, wait, I brought-” he scrambles up, sending an elbow into Eddie’s gut in his hurry. Eddie squawks and grabs at the back of Dustin’s shirt, but Dustin’s out of reach, and doesn’t notice what he just caused. He digs around his backpack for a minute. “Ha!” He yells, holding up a walkie-talkie. “Okay, hang on, lemme-” he depresses the button. “This is Dustin calling a code yellow, everybody come in! I repeat, code yellow, come in!”

“This had better be good, shit-for-brains,” Max warns him.

“That’s what a code yellow means, Max. And you’ve gotta say over. Over.”

“Fuck you, how ‘bout that?”

“Christ,” Steve murmurs to Eddie. “Meet my feral children.”

Eddie grins back. “They sound like fun.”

“Okay,” Will chimes in. “I’m here. Dustin, don’t answer Max, she’s just gonna have an even worse comeback. Save yourself the pain. And us. Over.”

“El and I are here,” Mike says. “Over.”

“How about Lucas? Over.”

“Here,” Lucas says wearily. “What’s this about? Over.”

“I’ve got someone I’d like you to meet.”

“You didn’t know him until today, shithead,” Steve tells him.

“Is that Steve? Hi Steve!” El calls. “What’s the news?”

He grabs the walkie out of Dustin’s hand, sends him a look when he tries to take it back. “The news is,” he looks at Eddie, who nods encouragingly, smiling. “my Alpha.”

He hands the walkie to Eddie. “Hey, guys!” He says. “My name is Eddie Munson. It’s nice to sort-of meet you!”

“Dustin,” Will says, low and controlled. “Tell me this isn’t a prank of some sort.”

Dustin steals the walkie back. “Dude, I nearly died,” he swears to Will. “It’s him. It’s really him.”

The walkie explodes with noise.

“Who?” Max asks.

“I’ll educate her,” Lucas promises, and then they’re both gone.

Then Mike, El and Will take turns pinging in. During a lull, Eddie swipes the walkie. “I’ve got a question,” he says. “Why do you guys calls yourselves the Party?”

“Oh, shit,” Steve murmurs. “I’m gonna lose you to them.”

“Never,” Eddie promises him.

“Uh,” Will says hesitantly. “We play D&D. It’s how most of us met, we were all interested in playing in school, and we kind of just… bonded.”

“No shit?” Eddie asks. “That’s super cool! Who’s your DM?”

“I am.”

Eddie laughs. “Dude, that’s great! I’ll have to pick your brain for storylines. Maybe we could swap our favorites? Do you have any homebrew or are they all canon?”

“They’re all canon,” Will admits. “But I did add my own twists to a few.”

“Man, that’s awesome! When I first started I was terrified I was gonna mess up. Had to do everything by the book. But then I got more confident and I started adding some of my own stuff in, and then I got even more confident and decided to write my own campaign.”

“And it was good?”

Eddie snorts. “Actually? It was complete shit. But I had good friends who didn’t tell me that, they encouraged me to keep trying, and I did, and now I’m actually good at whipping up a homebrew.”

“Wow,” Will breathes. “Could we- not now, obviously, but-”

Eddie chuckles. “I’d love to talk shop with you, Will.”

“Stealing you from me,” Steve murmurs. Eddie rubs a soothing hand on his thigh, passes the radio back to Dustin. “Sweetheart,” he murmurs, “you really feel that way?”

Steve shrugs, tips his head down. “‘M just… feeling weird, I guess. It’s not your fault. You don’t have to coddle me.”

“I don’t have to do anything,” Eddie agrees, bringing Steve’s hand up to kiss his knuckles. “Tell me how I can fix it?”

Steve shrugs miserably. “I don’t know.”

“You’re just feeling some kinda way?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s alright, baby. Wanna come sit over here with me?”

Steve considers it, then nods and moves from his chair to the couch, next to Eddie, close enough they’re touching all the way down and Eddie can comfortably get an arm around his shoulders. “There we go, sweetness. That better?”

Steve sighs, tucks his face into Eddie’s neck, and goes boneless. “Yeah.”

“See what I mean?” Dustin says, and that’s when they both realize he’d broadcasted their exchange to the rest of the Party.

“There’s something deeply wrong with you, little man,” Max drawls.

Dustin squawks. “Just because you’re taller than me!”

“Yeah, yeah. Yada yada. They’re sweet, is what they are, and maybe if you ever got your head outta your ass where your precious Suzie-poo is concerned-”

“Oh, fuck you, Maxine, and what if your guy hadn’t lived in the same town as you, huh?”

“I’d still be doing better than you!”

“Christ,” Steve mutters, curling a hand into Eddie’s shirt. “Make it stop.”

Eddie ducks down to press a kiss to Steve’s temple. “You bein’ funny or serious?”

“Both,” Steve admits. “But mostly serious.”

Eddie chuckles, then plucks the walkie from Dustin’s grasp. “Alright!” He says. “That’s enough. This is Eddie, Steve, and Dustin, signing off. Over and out.” He twists the knob to turn the walkie off, then tosses it back to Dustin. “Put that away, please,” he says softly.

Dustin turns sad eyes up to Steve. “Did we cause a migraine?” He whispers.

Steve smiles, reaches out to grab Dustin’s shoulder. “Only a little one,” he admits. “Rain check on the rest of today?”

Dustin nods immediately, shoving the walkie into his bag and scent-marking Steve, accepting the same back, and then turning to Eddie with a questioning look.

“Sure, kid,” Eddie chuckles, reaching out and accepting the same. “It was really good to meet you.”

“You too.” He smiles. “I’ve got a key, so don’t worry about locking me out. I’ll get it.”

“Why didn’t you let yourself in?” Steve wonders.

“You told me to knock.”

“When have you ever done something I told you to.”

“…and the key was in my bag and I didn’t want to have to find it.”

“There it is.” Steve sighs fondly, shaking his head. “Never change, Dustin.”

“Never,” Dustin agrees, fishing the key out of his bag and brandishing it at them with a grin. “Call me?”

“I will.”

“M’kay. Bye, Steve. Bye, Eddie.”

“Bye, Dustin,” they tell him, and then the door is closed. Eddie listens for the snik of the lock before he moves himself and Steve to lay down on the couch. “You wanna take a little nap, baby?”

Steve hums. “Should go in my room,” he murmurs. “And… need water first.”

Eddie carefully sits them up, helps Steve stand. “Go to your room, baby. I’ll get you water.”

Steve hums, leans into Eddie for a second. “Thank you, Alpha.”

“Omega,” Eddie softly rumbles. “Love you.”

“Love you.” He pushes off Eddie and walks down the hall. Eddie watches him until he’s in his room, then moves to get his water.

The weeks continue. Eddie meets the rest of the Party. He and Max hit it off like a house on fire. Will has a much quieter, though no less sincere, appreciation for him. Steve teases him relentlessly about Mike’s obvious crush on him. “No!” Eddie cries. “He’s a child!”

The weeks continue. Steve is at Eddie’s apartment more than his own now. Robin’s taken to waving a white handkerchief whenever he leaves, like he doesn’t know she’ll be calling Chrissy the moment he’s gone.

The four of them get together fairly often; mandatory Friday movie nights, at the very least, though more often than not they’ll all just congregate at an apartment and stay until it’s far too late.

Steve and Robin’s lease is up soon. And because he tracks his heats, he knows his next one is due right around when their lease is up. “Just move in with Eddie,” Robin tells him. “Chrissy’s lease ends a month after ours. I’ll renew it, and a month in she’ll come live with me.”

“Maybe,” Steve hedges. “I’ll have to talk to Eddie about it.”

She scoffs, rolls her eyes. “Like he’d ever tell you no.”

Steve blushes, because she’s right and he loves it. “I’ll talk to him,” he promises.

“You’d better,” she threatens.

He does. He’s relaxing on the couch with Eddie after dinner when he looks up at him and asks, “Eddie?”

Eddie smiles down at him. “Yeah, baby?”

Steve works his lip. “What do you think of me, maybe, moving in with you?”

Woodsmoke blooms. “How would you feel about it?”

“I really want to,” Steve whispers.

Eddie kisses him. “I do, too,” he whispers back.

“There’s one more thing.”

“Okay.”

“Um. The timing is… really not great. And I don’t know exactly when it’ll be, so it could be before or after mine and Robin’s lease is up, or it could hit, like, the day the lease expires, but.” He takes a breath. “Would you help me through my heat?”

“Baby,” Eddie rumbles, dipping to kiss his gland. “It would be my absolute honor.”

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #buckingham #omegaverse #alpha beta omega #tw stalking #but only a little #starambles

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vellazx · 20 hours ago

Text

Reincarnated!Roger Luffy x Reincarnated!Rouge Reader — a small drabble of mine!

It was hard working for the Navy, whenever the man whom you adored so dearly was bound to be your enemy for life.

How it happened? It was a long story… And you couldn’t quite put it all into words.

It started two years ago, all the way back in Alabasta, when you were sent out for a job with your coworker, Smoker.

The two of you could be considered as ‘friends’. He rambled to you the whole way there about a wanted pirate who went by the name of ‘Straw Hat Luffy’, at the time bearing a 30 million Berry bounty.

He was just a rookie. It would be easy for someone of your rank to take him down. You were respected by even the three Admirals themselves, probably only a level below them in terms of power.

So why was it that when you did come face to face with him, the two of you just locked eyes, as if entranced by each other.

Your heart skipped a beat in that very moment. And for some reason, he smiled at you, making your sudden jittery behavior and nervousness a thousand times worse.

You were so ashamed of yourself. You allowed him to simply run past you with that toothy grin of his, beaming with confidence and recklessness.

Smoker didn’t let you off lightly after watching that scene. But you didn’t argue against him, no. You fully believed you deserved it.

But why did that happen in the first place? He was a pirate, and you didn’t take yourself as the type to fall in love at first sight. You’ve never done that.

You couldn’t continue to help Smoker and the swordswoman always by his side, Tashigi, in capturing the Straw Hats. Especially their captain.

It was like your body acted on its own, forcing you to leave. After that encounter, you endured a mental crisis for nearly an entire month.

He just felt so… familiar. It unsettled you.

Why did it feel like you had met him before?

After Alabasta, you somehow ended getting tied up in his daily pirate schemes, as if you just couldn’t escape him.

Sabaody Archipelago, the Navy Headquarters, Punk Hazard… You could name even more times that you’ve met with him in abnormal circumstances.

And every time you fought him, every accidental brush of hands that made your cheeks heat up, your feelings got worse, and worse, and worse…

Why him?

Of all people, why him?

To make things worse, you could feel yourself… distancing from your duty. Your job. Like he was influencing you.

You started thinking weird things, strange things.

‘The World Government? I don’t trust them.’

You didn’t trust them? Yes you did. They wanted justice for the world, and you did, too.

‘They’re corrupted.’

No they aren’t.

‘In the name of justice? Don’t make me laugh. They don’t care about justice… They only want power.’

It was like there was a second voice in your head. An alter ego, almost…

All the while, in the midst of those thoughts… Your mind always reeled back to him. His stupid face that made your heart flutter. That smile of his, that was so infectious you couldn’t help but return a smile, which you didn’t realize most of the time.

He would point it out mid-fight, too.

“Hey, you’re smiling!”

“You’re seeing things, Straw Hat!”

You also couldn’t help but realize that during your meaningless duels, all his attention would be solely on you. Of course, when fighting someone, that was normal. But the way he looked at you… Did enemies look at each other like that?

His eyes shone, full of adoration. He always smiled at you, even if you wanted him to take you seriously. He didn’t gaze at you like he did his other opponents. He always stared them down with anger, or irritation.

He hardly knew anything about you, other than how well you fought when you clashed on the battlefield. But at the same time, he felt like he knew everything about you.

It took you by surprise one day, when he opened up his own confusion to you.

“It feels like I’ve met you before. Before Vivi’s country!”

Before Alabasta? That was where you first met two years ago.

And he was saying that he felt like he knew you before your meeting in the country?

“You must be crazy, Straw Hat…”

You said that, but you felt the same. And… he said he felt the same. You would’ve never expected him to be on the road of confusion, as you were.

You hated to admit it, but Straw Hat Luffy was the center of your thoughts ever since your first meeting. He indirectly influenced you, resulting in you slowly developing a distasteful attitude toward the World Government and all your coworkers.

He’s never even said anything to you about hating the World Government, yet your thoughts of him were changing you.

For better, or for worse? You had no idea.

It was impossible for you to deny the way your eyes softened, and the way your muscles became less tense when he was around.

In battle, you’d have to be the one to fight him if you were present. No one else. Not even if an Admiral offered to assist you in taking him down.

Because for some reason… For some odd, odd reason…

…You were paranoid that they’d be able to defeat him, and he’d die on an execution platform, leaving you alone with your feelings until your own death.

Why did it feel like… that’s already happened before?

You couldn’t let it happen again.

#one piece #fluff #angst #luffy x you #monkey d. luffy x reader #luffy x reader #one piece luffy #mugiwara no luffy #straw hat luffy #monkey d. luffy #luffy #op luffy #x reader #roger x rouge #reincarnation #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #luffy x y/n

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rebelliousstories · 2 days ago

Text

Same Face

Relationship: Logan Howlett/ Wolverine x Reader

Fandom: X-Men

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Mentions of Death, Drinking and Alcohol, Brief Strong Language

Word Count: 1,072

Main Masterlist: Here

X-Men Masterlist: Here

Summary: Taken from your timeline with your adopted daughter was bad enough. Now you have to deal with a man that looks exactly like the one you lost. Complete with the trauma.

Consider Donating: Here

The void was a rough terrain for anyone. A desolate wasteland where everything came to die, and no one lived for too long. This was where she had found herself and her adoptive daughter. When Laura had brought new survivors to the hideout, she almost could not believe it. He was here; Logan had returned.

But as she hid in the shadows while that man in the red suit continued to yap, she quickly realized that this was not her Logan. Not only was he younger, without the advanced adimantium poisoning that her’s did, but everything about him was off. Sure, her lover drank like a fish, but not like this. He never did it to forget entirely. And he would also not be caught dead in yellow spandex.

Laura made herself known to the group, but her adoptive mother did not. She just continued to stay in the dark, where she was most comfortable. Whoever this red suited merc with an endless supply of witty comments was, she did not care for him. Her eyes just stayed on the man that looked so eerily like her lost love.

“That’s- that’s her, Logan. That’s X-23. Wait, if you’re here, then…” Wade gasped dramatically, “is NightMaere here?”

The way he said it, it almost sounded like excitement. But the woman refused to reveal herself just yet. Logan grumbled behind a gulp of whiskey, “who the hell is that?”

“You didn’t have one of her in your world?” Deadpool was now utterly confused. But the Wolverine just shook his head, and took another swig.

Upon hearing this, she just slinked further back into the shadows, and went into a dark corner. She was not sure which would have been worse; for him to have one of her and possibly have lost her, or for her to have never existed in the first place.

Either way, she did not care to stick around.

It was not until nightfall that she was seen again. And that was only because Laura had come to seek her out. The younger girl crouched down to where the older woman was sitting. Following her eyes, Laura could not help but smile as she saw that she was looking at the new Logan.

“You should go talk to him.” She suggested, knocking her shoulder into her’s.

“Yeah, cause that worked out so well for you.” Her mom chuckled.

“Seriously,” Laura smirked, “it would do you both some good.”

Looking at the young girl that she had to raise, the woman smiled. Everyday, no matter how long it had been, she saw more and more of Logan in her. A brief kiss was pressed to Laura’s head, before she walked out into the open night, and towards the bonfire.

“Kid, will you just let me be?” Logan grumbled, behind the lip of his bottle.

“I’m not Laura.” She clarified, taking a seat on the same log. There was a long period of silence shared between the two of them. Neither one knew quite what to say, or who should talk first.

“Did you… um, did I really not exist in your universe?” The question on her mind was tentatively asked.

Logan took in a deep breath, that he released in a long sigh. “It’s more complicated. You were around but we were never a thing.”

“Ah, so we were just friends?”

“Yeah. Not that we didn’t try to be more.” Now, she was confused.

“What happened?” Another deep sigh.

“You got corrupted by your power. Literally, all the nightmares that you could make starting haunting you, even though you tried not to. It got to the point where you would have these fits and would send visions into peoples minds. You never meant to. It was just the side effect of your condition. Eventually, you had to be confined to- well, it was basically a cell. One crafted by Magneto, and reinforced by Chuck. You died in there.”

The pain in his voice, the tears brimming his lashes, the anguish he lived with. “You had to kill me, didn’t you?”

Not trusting his voice, Logan nodded. His throat tightened as he let out a shaky exhale. “We got one dinner before you died. One small date when you were lucid,” he spoke before clearing his throat.

“Wasn’t too long after that everything went to shit.” They both stared ahead at the crackling fire.

“We were married, ya know. Not legally, but Texas has common law marriages. You were my lifeline throughout the end of mutants. Until Laura came along, you were the single most important person in my world. Then she did, a little Logan, and we promised each other that no matter what, no matter which of us died, we would do whatever was best for her. I got to show her your Canadian roots, but we moved around a lot. Trust me, teaching her to hid her mutant ability was not easy. That child was feral for a time.” She joked, thinking back on the mutant’s childhood.

“Yeah? She seems like a spitfire. Not afraid to speak her mind.” Logan commented.

“She got that from you. Or rather, our Logan. There were definitely times that I asked if I could do this. Then I remembered how I made a vow to myself that she wouldn’t become an orphan again.” Finally breaking her eyes away from the fire, she looked at Logan’s face that was also turned towards her.

That face that was so familiar, but so different. This Logan had wrinkles in places that her’s did not. But he also had smooth skin in places her’s did not wither. But those eyes. Those were the same. She hoped, just in her mind, that she would be able to find those eyes no matter where in the multiverse she was.

“You did a good job raising her. You should be proud.” He muttered, a soberness taking over that was not there before.

“Thanks,” came her soft reply. “Listen, I need to get some sleep and check up on her. I hope you do what’s right tomorrow. I’d hate for Laura to be proven wrong.”

A gentle hand tapped his suit covered knee a couple times before heading back to the building that their ragtag group had claimed as their own. One final look was thrown over her shoulder, where she caught Logan watching her leave. She smiled, and continued on anyways.

#rebelliousstories #writing #deadpool and wolverine #wolverine x reader #logan wolverine #wolverine imagine #wolverine #logan howlett imagine #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett

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breelandwalker · 54 minutes ago

Text

Thank you for elaborating! I appreciate the clarification. (And I appreciate you taking a somewhat more civil tone with me than with your comments section. Frustration I can understand, but it does behoove us to be patient with each other in order to encourage meaningful discourse.)

I do think this is a discussion worth having, partly because you bring up some valid points with regard to making distinctions between witchcraft practices from New Age pseudoscience and junk theories, and partly because this is an excellent object lesson on the need to move past our own opinions and egos when dealing with the broader witchcraft community, particularly because it's not a monolith. (What community is, right?)

I agree that using the term "energy" in reference to one's life force or the power behind magical workings or the shared vibrations of a group in ritual or the broader music of the cosmos may be an oversimplification. But in terms of accessibility, it's a nice, simple word and a concept that just about everyone understands, regardless of the context. This can be especially useful when you're having a conversation with practitioners from various paths and traditions who have slightly different ways of doing things.

True, it gets bounced around in New Age speak quite frequently, but to say that reduces or nullifies its' value in witchcraft spaces sounds rather like giving up on a perfectly good word. After all, there are plenty of terms that exist in witchcraft that are also (obnoxiously) overused by New Agers. How many "clearing" or "cleansing" videos have we all rolled our eyes at on the socials? And yet, clearing and cleansing are still vital concepts in witchcraft, though they generally don't refer to dodgy medicinal practices. All this to say, the co-opting of a word by New Agers (or worse) only diminishes its' value in witchcraft spaces if we let it.

As for terms like "witchy" and "baby witch," there's a certain amount of seriousness involved with witchcraft, it's true. You do have to take the craft seriously if you want to make progress and you do have to grow as a person in order to do so successfully. But there's also a point when growth requires us to stop taking everything so deadly serious, including ourselves. There are lessons to be learned from play and silliness and shedding the trappings of ego and self-consciousness.

"Witchy" has entered the common lexicon in a playful way that allows witchcraft and witchcraft-adjacent things to be more accessible to the non-witching public. Accessibility leads to acceptance and we could use all the help on that front that we can get. Is it a slightly unserious word? Sure. But is there really anything wrong with being unserious? And does that really matter when the people who are attracted to it might go on to more serious investigation?

The same with "baby witch" - perhaps it is limiting or infantilizing, but it's accessible as an entry point for some people, and with time and guidance, they will outgrow it. (From a personal standpoint, I'm seeing it used less often than it was even a few years ago, mostly in spaces where discussion groups and non-judgmental communication are strong, though a steady replacement has yet to be found.)

Also, in terms of public image and respect, I highly doubt that the existence of terms like "witchy" and "baby witch" will make much difference in the minds of people and parties who would never respect our community or take it seriously anyway. If hundreds of books published by respected scholars and and religious recognition by the state couldn't make them take witches seriously, nothing will.

And on that note, let's move on to Wicca.

Gerald Gardner was not solely responsible for the creation of Wicca. He died before its' official inception and others who had been in his circle took up the movement. One might mention such notables as Doreen Valiente, who we have to thank for MUCH of what constituted the roots of Wicca in its' first officially incorporated iteration. Furthermore, the religion hasn't even been around for a full century and yet it has already evolved enough to have its' first schism and has changed with the times more readily than some other religions I could name.

To say that no one should practice Wicca because people involved in its' creation and evolution have been problematic is like saying that no one should be a Christian because of the Crusades. I'm not sure how the broader public is expected to treat the witchcraft community with seriousness and respect when some of us can't even seem muster the maturity to respect other witches when it comes to differences of religion or relative levels of experience or commitment.

While I can respect and agree with your personal preference to not use certain terms or follow certain paths, I might suggest having more conversations with witches whose traditions differ from yours. You'd be surprised how much we can learn from each other when the need to be Right or Superior is left at the door in favor of open communication and understanding. And I speak as someone who has BEEN THERE. There are enough forces in the world seeking to divide us without our own judgmental tendencies or poor attitudes furthering the problem.

Anyway, thank you again for taking the time to respond (and to read this wall of text my brain spat out in response, I appreciate your forbearance). Best of luck on the path!

Witchcraft vocabulary I’m surprised is still used in 2025:

- Witchy

- Magick

- Energy

- Karma

- The Goddess™️

- G slur

- Baby witch

#witchy things #pagan problems

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writeriguess · 2 days ago

Note

So this is like a semi emergency request. I’ve seen people ask other blogs for those, if it’s not ok on your blog just ignore me!

But do you think you could do a Hawks x reader where he’s like her husband and he constantly has to remind her to drink some water because she’s just the type that won’t if not begged to. So like one day she gets really sick when she gets home after patrolling all day and she faints due to dehydration from not drinking water for a while.

I’m going through a wicked case of dehydration rn because I’m just not the type to drink water often and I just need the comfort. I definitely regret my decisions and I’m going to try to be better about drinking water, I think I’m learning my lesson lolll

author's note: I want to be clear—this is a one-time exception. With a busy season ahead, there will be entire weeks when I won’t be able to check Tumblr or write. During those times, I won’t be available for “emergency requests.” My first busy period starts in just a week and a half, and right now, I’m scrambling to get through requests because I won’t be able to cover those two weeks I’ll be away. If I started receiving more of these last-minute requests, they would slow me down too much. That said, I do hope you feel better soon.

Also, just a quick heads-up: Tumblr’s gif library has been down for several days, so I won’t be able to include gifs in any fics requested less than a week ago. I’m really sorry about that! Hopefully, it’ll be fixed soon.

Flight Risk

The moment you step through the door, exhaustion weighs you down like a lead blanket. Your limbs feel heavier than usual, your vision swimming slightly as you toe off your boots. Patrolling had been brutal today—villains popping up left and right, citizens needing assistance, and of course, the unrelenting sun bearing down on you. Still, you push through, ignoring the sluggishness in your body, the dryness in your throat. It’s nothing you can’t handle.

Keigo, however, would strongly disagree.

“Babe, did you drink any water today?” His voice carries from the kitchen, where he’s leaning lazily against the counter, golden eyes flicking toward you. The way his wings shift—just the slightest ruffle of irritation—makes it clear that he already knows the answer.

You wave him off, too drained to deal with his nagging right now. “I’m fine, Hawks.”

He arches a brow. “That wasn’t the question, dove.”

You roll your eyes and mumble something incoherent, making your way toward the couch. You don’t even get the chance to sit before the dizziness swells into something much worse. The room tilts, your knees buckle, and then—nothing.

When you come to, the first thing you register is warmth. Something soft and feathery is draped over you, and it takes a few sluggish blinks to recognize the familiar red of Keigo’s wings wrapped around your body. His scent—fresh air, something musky and warm—grounds you, but there’s an underlying tightness in the way his arms are curled around you.

“Seriously?” His voice is quieter than usual, but the edge in it makes you wince. “How many times do I have to tell you to drink some damn water?”

You shift slightly, only to be met with a firm press of his hand against your forehead. “Uh-uh. Don’t even think about moving yet. You scared the hell outta me, you know that?”

Guilt settles heavy in your stomach. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Didn’t mean to?” His laugh is hollow, and he pulls back just enough for you to see the crease in his brows. “Sweetheart, you passed out. In our living room. After I specifically asked you if you drank any water today.”

You avert your eyes, feeling suddenly small under his gaze. “I was busy.”

Keigo lets out a sharp exhale, clearly biting back whatever smart remark is on the tip of his tongue. Instead, he shifts, grabbing a glass of water from the nearby table. “Drink.”

You hesitate for a second too long, and immediately, his expression darkens. “Drink, or I swear to God, I will hold your nose and pour it down your throat.”

A laugh bubbles up despite yourself, weak and hoarse. “That’s dramatic.”

“And you’re impossible,” he grumbles, but there’s no real bite to it. He lifts the glass to your lips, watching closely as you sip. The water is cool, soothing against your parched throat, and you hadn’t even realized how desperately you needed it.

Once you finish, he sets the glass aside with a sigh, running a hand through his messy blond hair. His wings twitch slightly before curling tighter around you, caging you in his warmth. “You can’t keep doing this,” he murmurs, voice softer now. “I don’t care how strong you are. You have to take care of yourself, or I will—personally. And trust me, baby bird, you won’t like my methods.”

You hum, nuzzling into his chest. “Wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.”

Keigo groans, pressing a lingering kiss to the crown of your head. “You’re gonna be the death of me.” But the way his arms tighten around you, the way he stays tucked against you for the rest of the night, says otherwise.

He just loves you too much to let you slip through his fingers—even over something as simple as forgetting to drink water.

The next morning, you wake up to the sound of rustling feathers and the warm press of a hand against your cheek. Blinking blearily, you see Keigo crouching beside the bed, his golden eyes scanning your face with clear concern.

“How do you feel?”

You stretch your arms slightly, feeling a little less drained than before. “Better,” you admit, voice still raspy. “Still a little tired.”

Keigo frowns but nods. “That’s expected. You were majorly dehydrated. I had to keep waking you up last night to get you to drink more.” He gestures to the nightstand, where an empty water bottle and another half-full one sit.

A pang of guilt washes over you, and you reach for his hand, giving it a small squeeze. “I’m sorry, Kei.”

He scoffs, but there’s no real irritation in his expression. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll accept your apology on one condition.”

You tilt your head, wary. “What is it?”

Keigo grins, but there’s a sharp glint in his eyes. “You’re not allowed to leave this bed until you finish another full bottle of water. No sneaky dumping it in a plant, no ‘accidentally’ knocking it over. I’m watching you.”

You groan but take the bottle anyway. “You’re a menace.”

“And you’re a flight risk when it comes to taking care of yourself,” he quips back, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. “But you’re my flight risk.”

With that, he settles in beside you, watching closely as you take slow sips from the bottle. You know he’s not going to let this go anytime soon, and honestly, with the way his arms wrap around you like a protective cocoon, you don’t mind one bit.

#keigo takami #hawks x reader #hawks comfort #bnha x reader #mha x reader #keigo takami x reader #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader

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ilikekidsshows · 13 hours ago

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Have you seen the Sublimation leaks? Pretty much the entire episode has been leaked by now and people have made a 19 minutes super cut xD I'm asking cause I don't want to send an ask about Sublimation if you haven't seen it and don't want to be spoiled

---

The entire episode came out while I was busy answering the ask game and I checked it out to respond to this ask properly . But, for future reference: unless it’s a show I’m liveblogging it’s open to spoil.

Okay, so the episode went just like I predicted with Marinette easily forgiven. Even before I saw the whole thing, I saw the collected clips and I could smell the upcoming Marinette validation in the final scenes. And yet, just like this show does time and time again, it's still worse than even what I prepared for. Of course the episode couldn't just be "Marinette gets forgiven without her having to do anything", of course her saying sorry and making reparations aren't just things she does after being forgiven, like she's the one rewarding her victims for their good behavior of forgiving her. No, they had to go even further and end the episode with Marinette's victim coddling her over her "friendship fears".

This episode is so manipulative in how hard it leans on the audience to pity Marinette throughout. Like, seriously, her Lucky Charm calls her the villain? The amount of self-pity there goes way beyond all the other cases of Marinette acting like this that have come before. Little miss “if I make myself miserable asking me to make up for what I did wrong would be cruel” now has her own superpowers take part in her self-flagellation just to make sure no one with the actual right to be mad at her gets there first.

Marinette always does this. She makes a mistake and rather than think of a way to make up for it, she calls herself the worst and whines. “The Lucky Charm pointed her out as the villain” is not Marinette facing consequences or the episode treating her as in the wrong. It’s once again Marinette being her own worst critic whenever she does something wrong, to make sure the audience feels bad for her first and foremost so that they can instantly forgive her even when she never actually learns. “Marinette loves to learn,” my ass. “The villain was me” is just “I’m the worst Guardian” with a new coat of paint.

The important part is that the person with the right to be mad at Marinette, Sublime, had already forgiven her before Marinette even had her little villain realization. Just because a character says something that’s right on paper doesn’t mean it’s being presented as the correct perspective in the episode. It depends on that framing I’ve been harping on about. So, while Sublimation rightfully chewed Marinette out, all the scenes before her Akumatization have her acting entitled, cold and harsh, calling Sublime’s dad a failure and getting on his case for coddling her when he merely offers her a balancing hand and not taking Sublime’s opinions on things into account. In all these scenes, her husband talks calmly while she’s snapping; the writers intend her to come across as misguided or downright unreasonable. This makes it so that her yelling at Marinette comes across as her just being unreasonable again and like we’re meant to see her as being mean, especially because Marinette also looks the saddest in the episode specifically when Sublimation is yelling at her. To further make Sublimation's points worthless, her power to make people the best version of themselves doesn't work on Marinette because she already "perfect". If she's already so perfect, then why does she keep doing this shit?

The only characters calling Marinette out are herself, in her typical “I’m the worst” fashion, and a “jerk-coded” character whose opinion we aren't supposed to respect. This was already visible in the leaked scenes and made it very clear to me that Marinette wouldn’t be suffering any real consequences for what she did, her feeling guilty is meant to be the consequence and punishment. And I was proven correct. When Sublimation is dealt with, no one is mad at Marinette anymore, because being mad at her is what villains do. It doesn’t matter that Marinette claims she was in the wrong because she does it in an overly exaggerated manner that the viewer won’t take seriously. It doesn’t matter that the other characters have a “this is going to end poorly” attitude about Marinette’s nonsense, when they’re clearly pitying Marinette and not her target. It doesn’t matter that Marinette gets called out when the character doing it is the supervillain in an altered state of mind we’re supposed to see as unreasonable.

This episode is so disrespectful towards Sublime. No one voices concern over whether or not she would need to be protected from the downfall of Marinette’s shenanigans, all Tikki, Alya and Trixx are concerned with are that Marinette will come out of this smelling like roses with that “mistakes are an opportunity to earn and Marinette loves to learn” nonsense. Yeah, Marinette loves mistakes because no one is ever concerned with the people those mistakes hurt! Sublime should not be getting treated as a teaching aid in universe, when she’s supposed to be a person Marinette wants to befriend. Like, it’s clear she only wants to befriend Sublime for control freak reasons to make sure she isn’t talking to Adrien behind her back, considering how obsessed she is with that thought, but that is still the stated end goal.

Speaking of, Sublime should not have wanted to be friends with Marinette no matter if Adrien told her she has difficulties making friends, her reaction to Ladybug shattering her legs should not have been “I’m okay!” She should want to stay away from Marinette’s clearly unbalanced ass. She should have been pissed at Ladybug, it was her right. But, no, she couldn’t possibly be upset about any of that because being upset at Marinette is what bad people do and Sublime is a good person and good people always put Marinette’s feelings before their own. It’s a good thing Marinette’s Miraculous Ladybug can fix any damage caused by anyone on the same day a villain fight happens or otherwise she couldn’t have rewarded Sublime and her family for being such good people who forgave her before she could even apologize or make reparations.

Also, if I got cornered by my new friend’s stalker girlfriend alone in a dressing room, I’d book it, not offer to talk about whatever she wanted to talk about to make her comfortable with me. Everyone in Miraculous is either a master of emotional control, or they get Akumatized, except, of course, for Marinette, who can do whatever messed up thing she comes up when she's having an emotion and she will be instantly forgiven because she was just being emotional. Well, in the real world, sometimes, when you do messed up things because of your emotions, another person's emotions make them yell at you for it, and they'll be right to do so.

The fact that Marinette did all that and is getting rewarded with the friendship she wanted at the start of the episode and more coddling from her victim just leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Marinette’s magical powers of super convenience fixed her mistakes as a superhero and her super perfect therapist boyfriend's damage control saved her civilian reputation, not her own actions. And she still dared to be upset when she heard that Sublime had been talking with Adrien behind her back, because god forbid Adrien spend time with people who are not Marinette or a part of Marinette’s posse. What is Marinette teaching kids in this episode? That it’s okay if you fuck up and act like a menace as long as you say “I’m sowwy, I don’t deserve to be our friend”. Still keeping up the trend of teaching kids exactly how to manipulate people into forgiving you, I see.

#ml leaks #ml spoilers #ml salt #ml critical #dats chats #long post

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daily-memory-of-touch · 1 day ago

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Sorry i never played this game and don't intend on to but. Could you explain what's the meaning of this scene in fortnite terms (no more seriously actually wondering about the context or whatever. If you don't mind spoiling this random anon. Ty)

Okay so leading up to this scene is Siffrin (hat + cloak fella, uses he/they) reliving the same Fortnite game over and over because he's in a time loop. He and his squad mates (Mirabelle, she/her; Isabeau, he/him; Odile, she/her; Bonnie, they/them) are the last ones alive aside from a few other players. There's a griefer on the server named the King (he/him) that they gotta defeat and the party has rallied the entire server against him. Not everyone has the best gear for the job so that's why it's up to the party to defeat him. The King is making the storm disconnect you from the server if you in it for too long

So Siffrin has been in this loop of playing Fortnite for a while now. The King has placed himself in a big structure and set up traps to try and catch the party off-guard, and every time the party (or just Siffrin) dies and can't be revived time loops back. With the help of Loop (they/them), a knowledgeable gamer who's aware of the loops, the two of them have been in a separate VC figuring out how to handle all of this (Loop gives advice and Siffrin does their best)

At this point Siffrin is pretty sick of the time loop. They actually have beaten the King a few times, but even if the party gets their 1# Victory Royale time still loops back. Every morning the party actually meets in-person to grab lunch before heading back to game. Siffrin and Isabeau have been pining over each other for a while now and the time loop makes Siffrin's yearning worse and worse, especially since Isabeau (and the rest of the party as well) think that Siffrin is touch-adverse when in reality he just gets surprised by sudden touch and is just touch-starved

So before everyone else gets to the shop they all eat together at it's just Isabeau and Siffrin. The two of them are having a convo they have every loop, which in the middle of it includes Isabeau going to put a hand on Siffrin's shoulder but then pulling back when he remembers that he should respect their space. This has been bothering Siffrin the entire time loop, and on this loop he has certified had it and doesn't want to feel stuck anymore. So, without wanting he grabs Isabeau by the collar and kisses him. Isabeau immediately pushes Siffrin away, but his actual reaction is unclear because Siffrin then loops back to right before he made that impulsive choice and the convo goes on like normal. It's unknown if Isabeau reacted like that out of surprise or disgust or any other emotion. Siffrin and Loop later talk about this during this loop and Loop isn't happy with them

Not relevant to the rest of the post but Siffrin and Loop tend to meet up for breakfast separately from the rest of the party, but if they don't meet up Siffrin just makes something at home to eat. Sometimes they'll grab a quick coffee together if they talk mid-day before the Fortnite gaming session. It's not important but the detail matters to me as to how those two have irl talks

#isat spoilers #isat #not bad touch #ask

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bomber-grl · 1 day ago

Text

Call Me Penelope cause You’re My Odysseus

Pairing(s): Leo Valdez x Gn!Reader (No specific Godly Parent

Word Count:4411

Leo… Leo.

Your thoughts wandered again as you patrolled the deck, the cool sea air nipping at your face. You’d told Percy to take a break—he’d been on edge lately, and you weren’t exactly complaining. Honestly, the more space you had between yourself and Leo Valdez, the better. Your face heated up every time he came anywhere near you.

You found yourself staring at the churning waves, hypnotized by the relentless cycle of them crashing over each other. Lost in thought, you didn’t even notice the steps behind you until—

"Hey!"

You jumped, spinning around in surprise. Of course, standing there, looking ridiculously charming despite the late hour, was none other than Leo Valdez, master of bad timing and probably worse pick-up lines.

Leo’s face mirrored your shock for a moment, but then, just like that, he slid into his usual smirk. The one that was half nervous, half confident—basically, classic Leo. He scratched the back of his head. "What are you doing out here?" he asked, voice a little higher than usual. "Didn’t think I’d find anyone else stupid enough to be up this late."

You couldn't help but laugh. "What are you doing up? I wasn’t aware they let you off the ship’s leash."

Leo blinked, the surprise lingering. "Oh, you know. Just fixing some stuff down in the engine room. Festus was acting all weird, and I had to check on the ship's defenses because apparently, nothing is stopping this whole quest from blowing the Argo ll up every five minutes. But, you know, minor stuff." He gave you a one-shoulder shrug that was probably meant to be cool, but just made him look like he’d forgotten how to stand.

You shook your head, grinning. “Still can’t believe you made the ship. Seriously, that’s pretty impressive.”

Leo blinked at you. Once. Twice. His mouth opened like he was going to say something, but then he just closed it again, visibly thrown by your sincerity. You could practically see his brain buffering. He shuffled a little, his hand rubbing the back of his neck in that endearing way he did when he was flustered. Finally, he stammered out, "I mean, I didn’t do it alone but Uh, thanks. That's... really nice of you to say."

And yeah, maybe you kind of like throwing him off balance. There was something oddly satisfying about making the charming, ever-flirty Leo Valdez pause for just a moment.

The thing about Leo? He was a flirt. A big flirt. He could try to charm anyone with a few slick words and a wink, but you learned pretty quickly that Leo’s confidence was just a shiny coat of paint over a ton of... well, feelings—and maybe some issues with his self-esteem.

You’d figured that out one day when you found yourself near him, as he was busily patching up something that had gotten busted in the last battle (because, naturally, everything on the Argo II was always getting busted). Of course, he spotted you and immediately called you over. Because why wouldn’t he?

And that’s how it went: You’d talk for a bit. But then Leo would try to flirt. Sometimes it was an awful pick-up line—so awful it actually made you laugh. And sometimes, he’d lean on something like he was trying to be extra suave and... miss. Then fall. Always a good time.

And on the rare occasions where he didn’t totally embarrass himself? He’d wait for your reaction, face half hopeful, half insecure.

Most of the time, you’d play it cool and pretend to be bashful—making him think he’d won. Other times, though, you’d flirt back. It started as a joke, really. He was always burning up, so one time you decided to play along, and the result? Well, he caught fire. Literally. You weren’t exaggerating. He was on fire, and you had to grab a fire extinguisher before the whole deck turned into an inferno.

“Leo,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “You know, if you keep setting yourself on fire every time I talk to you, I’m going to start charging for these rescue missions.”

He flashed you that crooked grin of his, his cheeks turning a shade of red you hadn’t known a person could turn. "I'm pretty sure I'd pay anything to get you to keep talking to me."

And there it was again, that flirtation. But beneath it? Was there something else? Something you couldn’t quite put your finger on yet? You didn’t know. But damn, Leo had a way of making you want to find out.

After one of the many, many exhausting days aboard the Argo II, you had one singular goal in mind: get to your cabin, collapse into your bed, and pray that nothing—nothing—would interrupt your much-needed sleep. It was a rare occasion when you could actually get some peace, and you were determined to make the most of it.

But of course, life had other plans.

As you walked down the hall, a distant murmur of voices caught your attention. You froze. Was this the part where you ignored it and moved on? Definitely. Were you actually going to do that? Absolutely not.

You crept closer, your footsteps barely audible. You could’ve sworn you were moving like a ninja—or at least what you imagined a ninja would look like if they had absolutely no stealth whatsoever. Anyway, it was too late to back out now.

You stopped at a corner, inching closer to the source of the voices. Your heart was pounding in your chest—not from the adrenaline, but from the fact that you had, once again, found yourself doing something questionable for the sake of curiosity.

You strained your ears and waited. And then—there it was. The voices of Leo and Jason, clearly in the middle of some deep conversation. You caught snippets of their exchange.

“...what about you and [your name]?” Jason’s voice floated through the air.

You froze, your eyes widening. You hadn’t been expecting that. At all.

Your heart did a little leap as you leaned in closer. “What about me and Leo?” you thought, trying to make sense of it.

Leo’s voice answered—there was a momentary pause before his usual confidence took over. “I like them. Like, actually like them,” he said, his tone laced with that trademark Leo half-cocky, half-nervous vibe.

You blinked. Your brain might’ve stopped working for a solid second. Did Leo just say—?

Before you could fully process the implications of what you’d overheard, you heard their conversation fade into something less distinct, a murmur of words lost in the distance. You were left standing there, a bit dazed, your face heating up. Your heart, too, was doing that thing where it sped up in an uncomfortable, almost violent way. The idea of you and Leo?

No. No way.

Your thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a fake, overly dramatic clearing of a throat behind you. You spun around faster than you had ever moved in your life, nearly bumping into the person who had caught you mid-espionage.

And of course, it was none other than Piper.

Piper. Cool, composed, and way too clever for her own good. The girl who always seemed to be two steps ahead of you. And judging by the smirk she was giving you right now, she had definitely been aware of your little eavesdropping escapade.

She just shook her head, looking at you with that amused grin you’d come to recognize. “Really? Eavesdropping now? That’s a new one for you.”

You opened your mouth to say something—anything—but nothing came out. Instead, you just gave her a sheepish look and shrugged, pretending like you were totally innocent in all of this.

Piper’s smirk softened into a smile. “Come on,” she said, tilting her head as she beckoned you to follow. “Let’s go. Before you get caught.”

You followed her down the hall, your mind still spinning. Leo? Actually liking you? You couldn’t even. This was... a lot to process. And now that you were trying to piece it together, your thoughts were as tangled as the ropes on the ship after a storm.

But Piper—bless her—seemed to sense your mental chaos. She didn’t bring it up again, instead chatting with you casually, like nothing had happened. She was way too good at pretending she hadn’t just caught you doing something totally questionable.

Still, as you walked behind her, you couldn’t help but glance back toward the hallway, where Leo and Jason’s conversation was probably still happening. You could almost feel your face flush again just thinking about it.

Piper glanced at you from the corner of her eye and raised an eyebrow. “You okay back there?” she asked, clearly amused by your dazed expression.

You nodded. “Yeah, totally fine. Nothing weird going on here. Nope. Not at all.”

She laughed softly, clearly not buying it. “Uh-huh. Sure. Whatever you say.”

And as you followed her down the hall, you couldn't help but wonder just how much Leo Valdez was going to mess with your head in the days to come. And just how much Piper knew about all of it.

The battle unfolded in the blink of an eye. One moment, you, Piper, and Leo were aboard the Argo II, navigating the skies with the hum of the engines beneath your feet. The next, a blast of icy power ripped through the air, and Khione and her goons attacked, freezing everything in their wake. Piper’s charmspeak wasn’t enough to prevent Leo from being thrown violently into the sky, his form disappearing into the distance with an eerie speed.

It was as if time had frozen, leaving you suspended in disbelief. It all happened so fast—too fast. It wasn’t until Piper’s desperate scream rang through the air, her voice cracked with fear, that the weight of what had just occurred hit you. “Leo!” she cried, reaching out as if she could pull him back through the chaos. But Leo was already gone.

The days following his disappearance felt like an endless blur. The crew did their best to carry on, but without Leo’s infectious energy, the Argo II felt eerily quiet. A hollow ache gnawed at you—frustration, fear, and confusion all bubbling together. You couldn’t help but wonder where Leo was, if he was even alive. Had he been lost to the winds of fate?

A week later, there was a commotion—shouted voices, the clattering of metal, the unmistakable sound of Festus’ familiar mechanical whirring. It was Leo. He had returned.

Leo, with his wild grin and grease-streaked face, stood beside Festus, both of them already hard at work in the engine room as if nothing had happened. You watched, your heart in your throat, torn between relief and a growing sense of frustration. You wanted to run to him, to yell at him, to ask him a hundred questions, but there was something in his demeanor that made you hesitate. The old Leo was back, but this version felt... distant.

You hadn’t realized how much you missed him until now. Sure, you had a little crush on him, but that wasn’t all of it. Leo had been your first real friend in what felt like centuries, the first person you’d connected with on a level that went beyond the surface. The way he could make you laugh even when everything seemed hopeless—that was something you never thought you’d find again.

But lately, Leo had been avoiding you. He’d slip away whenever you came near, his eyes darting to the floor or the nearest exit. It stung. And today? You had had enough of it.

You found him underdeck, his back turned as he tinkered with the ship’s machinery. Without a second thought, you shoved him hard against the wall. The impact rattled the room, and Leo's surprised gasp was the only sound that followed.

His eyes widened in shock, his usual cocky grin replaced by an expression of flustered bewilderment. You could practically hear the gears turning in his head, trying to process what just happened. But you were done waiting.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” you demanded, your voice unexpectedly cracking on the last word. It took everything in you not to shrink back from the vulnerability that slipped through, but you stood your ground, staring him down.

Leo blinked, clearly startled. The tough guy facade faltered for a moment, and you could almost see the invisible weight on his shoulders. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sure you’ve heard from the others, but I ended up on Ogygia when I got blasted out of here.”

Ogygia. The name echoed in your mind. The island of Calypso, the witch who had nursed Percy back to health years ago when you and Annabeth and apparently the rest of camp thought him to be dead. You’d heard the stories, but hearing Leo mention it made the hairs on your neck stand up. A sense of suspicion crept in.

“Yeah, and what about it?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady, though your heart was racing.

Leo’s eyes narrowed, clearly frustrated that you weren’t already ��in the know.” He threw his hands up in exasperation, though his tone was far less confident than usual. “Well... I met Calypso.” He spoke slowly, almost as if testing the waters, waiting for your reaction.

Your eyebrows quirked. “Uh-huh…” You crossed your arms, a half-amused, half-worried look on your face, but you could tell Leo was about to say more.

He exhaled sharply, dragging the words out like they were heavier than lead. “And I may have promised to come back and rescue her... on the River Styx.”

You froze. For a moment, time itself seemed to stop. “You what?!”

The words came out of your mouth before you could stop them, and your anger flared in a way you hadn't expected. Your heart pounded in your chest, the frustration that had been building for days erupting in an instant. “How could you be so stupid, Leo?!" you snapped, desperate for him to understand the gravity of what he’d just said. "You can't be serious!”

Leo seemed startled by the harsh words, but he braced himself, like he’d been expecting them all along. “She needed my help! She’s been stuck on that island for centuries!” His voice was a little defensive, but there was an underlying note of... concern? You exhaled slowly, letting the tension drain from your shoulders. It was clear Leo just felt a sort of kinship with her, the way he always did with anyone who needed saving.

Despite your growing coolness, Leo still felt the need to add, “I don’t... like her, though.”

Your gaze snapped back to him, and for a moment, it was like nothing had changed between the two of you. You found yourself struggling to hide a grin. “And why are you telling me this?” You tried, but amusement was creeping into your voice.

Leo rubbed the back of his neck, his usual nervous gesture. “Well, I just didn’t want you to think I—y’know—had some... thing for her.”

Of course. Only Leo would accidentally dig a hole for himself in the middle of a serious conversation.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “And why would I think that?”

He blinked, his blush spreading to his ears. If you hadn’t been in the middle of this conversation, you were pretty sure his face would’ve caught fire.

You grinned, shaking your head as you reached out to sling your arm around his shoulders. “C’mon, let’s go eat. I’m starving, and you’ve got enough ‘I’m a walking disaster’ moments for one day.”

Leo groaned, but the way his eyes twinkled told you he was secretly relieved. Just another day in the life of Leo Valdez.

You met Reyna. She, Nico, and Coach Hedge had taken the task of getting the Athena Parthenos to Camp Jupiter a while ago. They were all heroes in their own right, but the last thing you wanted to do was sit around and wait. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of uncertainty and battles, you made it back to Camp Half-Blood. But of course, peace would never last.

Not here. Not with the war that was brewing on the horizon.

In fact, peace didn't even stand a chance. It didn't last more than a few moments after you stepped foot back on the camp’s familiar soil. The battle found you again, just like it always did. You were carried from one fight to the next, running on adrenaline and the relentless desire to protect your friends. Monsters fell before you, and the injured campers you helped were a reminder of what was at stake. But even as you fought, you couldn't shake the feeling that something worse was coming.

Then, you heard it.

A loud bang, a crackle in the sky that sets your teeth on edge. You looked up instinctively, already knowing in the pit of your stomach what was going on. Gaea was being fought, her chaos spilling out over the world. Some of your closest friends were out there, battling the earth goddess herself.

But this—this was different.

The air felt colder, the ground seemed to tremble underfoot. Something had shifted. Your stomach twisted into a knot. Something was wrong, deeper than any battle or monster or war you’d fought before.

And before you could even make sense of it, your attention was yanked away. A shout pierced the chaos—someone calling for help, a camper in trouble.

You didn’t hesitate.

There would be no backing down now. You couldn’t give up, not when you’ve already made it this far.

Your gut had been right. The battle raged on, but the worst news hit you like a tidal wave. Leo was gone.

It wasn’t just the usual chaos of battle. This was different. Leo. The guy who could fix anything, who joked through every crisis, who had always been one step ahead of the rest of you. But now? Now he was gone. And the words hit you like a punch to the stomach.

You should’ve known. You should’ve realized that something was off. Leo had been acting strangely lately, slipping into moods you’d never seen him in before. Those long silences. The way he kept pushing people away like he was trying to make himself disappear before the inevitable. And now it all made sense in a way that felt like ice down your spine.

Was this it? Was this what he’d been planning all along?

You couldn’t bring yourself to believe it at first. Leo—a martyr? The thought felt wrong in every possible way. Leo wasn’t the kind to give up, to throw himself away for a cause, no matter how noble. He always had a plan. He always had a way out. But now, as the reality settled in, you couldn’t help but wonder. Was this his plan all along? To go out in a blaze of glory? To save everyone at the cost of himself?

It was impossible to reconcile the Leo you knew with the Leo who might have done this, who might’ve sacrificed himself for the greater good.

But as the news spread and the camp was left to mourn, a heavy, bitter ache formed in your chest. You thought of all the times he’d smiled and cracked jokes, of all the times you’d fought side-by-side, laughing and shouting together. And now... Now there was nothing.

It felt like the world was missing a spark. A spark you knew as Leo.

You pushed the grief aside for the moment—it wasn't time to break down. Not yet. But the thought lingered, gnawing at you. Was this really his choice? And if it was... would you ever be able to forgive him for leaving you behind?

Two months had passed.

Each day bled into the next like a long, gray smear, and the world had become nothing but the aching void of Leo Valdez’s absence. The loss was a cold weight in the pit of your stomach, a stone that no amount of time could make lighter. Time, it seemed, only deepened the wound.

Camp Half-Blood had continued, as it always did. The camp was used to death. Demigods were used to death and grief, everyone had to learn to carry their burdens or they’d drown. They had learned to march on, even after losing their closest friends. But you? You couldn’t do it. Not this time.

Leo had been different. He had been your Leo, your spark of light in a world that had so often seemed too dark. And now he was gone. And nothing could fill the hole he left behind.

Amidst your grief you had heard of Apollo's appearance at camp. From what you could gather, he had been punished for Octavian's actions and made human. Even more funnily enough, he was a servant to some hot-headed girl.

But you didn’t care. You couldn’t care about Apollo’s strange fate or his odd little master. The only thing that consumed you was Leo. The only thing that mattered was that Leo was gone, and you were left behind in the ruins of it.

Days turned to weeks, and then weeks into two long, endless months. You stayed in your cabin mostly, not wanting to face the world outside. You couldn't bring yourself to do anything but wallow in the grief. The other campers had tried to help, of course. Some had dropped by to check in on you. A few even brought food, but you couldn’t eat. You didn’t want to eat.

And then one morning, when the sun was barely peeking over the horizon, you finally decided—today, you would leave the cabin.

You stood up slowly, the ache in your chest never leaving. You had gone days without food, but something in you told you it was time to stop. Time to start existing again, at least for a while.

You stepped outside, the crisp air hitting your skin. The camp seemed as alive as ever, filled with the sounds of training, laughter, and chatter. But to you, it all felt distant. The faces of your friends, Percy, Annabeth, Chiron, they all seemed to move through a fog. They had all moved on, in their own ways. But you couldn’t.

And you didn’t care about the camp’s new gossip, either. It wasn’t important. It wasn’t Leo.

But then, as you made your way towards the mess hall, you overheard a conversation, sharp and full of whispers. “Leo’s back. He’s really back.”

Your heart skipped. Your breath caught. Leo?

You hurried towards the Big House, ignoring the pull of your doubt. When you arrived, there was a crowd of campers, gathered in a long line stretching out in front of the door. And, in the center of it all, there he was.

Leo.

You blinked, and for a moment, it felt like your heart might stop. Was this real? Was this... really happening?

He looked the same, but different. His usual cocky grin was there, though he seemed a little subdued, almost unsure. His hair was a mess as always, and his shirt had the usual grease stains from his latest invention. But there was something new about him—something that made your chest tighten.

The line shifted a bit, and it was like everything fell away. The campers were giving you space, stepping aside. You moved forward, not even thinking, just needing to be close to him, needing to see him, to know that this wasn’t a dream.

"Leo?" you whispered, barely able to get the word out.

His eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, he looked stunned, like he couldn't believe his own eyes. Then, in a move that was so typically Leo, he shot up from the bench where he had been sitting, his arms wide open.

“[Your name]” he exclaimed, and before you could even think to react, he wrapped you in a hug. “You won’t believe what’s happened, but—”

You slapped him.

It wasn’t a gentle tap, either. It was a full-on smack, the kind you only give to the person who hurt you most.

Some campers nearby snickered. But you didn’t care. You had to do it. You had to make him feel how angry and hurt you had been all this time. How he had left, without a word, without a goodbye.

Leo froze, his expression turning to one of surprise, then to embarrassment. “Ow! What the—” He rubbed his cheek, eyes wide. “Okay, okay, I deserved it”

You stepped back, your breath shaky, but now that you’d slapped him, something else took over. Something that drowned out all the hurt, the anger, the loss. You threw your arms around him again, pulling him close, holding him tighter this time.

“Don’t you ever leave me like that again, Leo,” you said, your voice breaking. “Do you hear me? I thought... I thought I lost you. You can’t just... just disappear.”

Leo chuckled softly, his voice low and full of warmth, despite the seriousness in your words. “I mean... I didn’t mean to disappear. You know how I am—always making things explode and running off to save the day.” He pulled back slightly, looking at you with that trademark mischievous grin. “But I’m here now. So... does this mean we’re together now? Like... officially?”

You stared at him, blinking in disbelief at his question. For a moment, you almost wanted to laugh—except all the emotions bubbling inside of you weren’t exactly funny.

"Yes," you said, pulling him in and kissing him fiercely, because you couldn’t hold back anymore. Because you needed him. Because you needed him to know you still loved him, even after everything. Even after all the pain.

When you pulled away, Leo was grinning, his usual cocky smile back in full force, despite the tears you both had been holding back. "So... does that mean you're not going to slap me again?"

You could’ve slapped him again. You really could’ve. But instead, you just smiled, shaking your head, and murmured, “No. But I’m never letting you go again.”

And this time, you meant it.

#fanfic #gn reader #male reader #fluff #fanfic fluff #female reader #leo valdez x female reader #leo valdez x male reader #leo valdez fluff #fluff headcanons #leo valdez pjo #leo valdez x reader #pjo leo #hoo leo #leo #leo valdez

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chaotic-snowflake · 1 day ago

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Probably going to get hate for this but tbh I don’t really care because it needs to be said. I feel like social media culture has absolutely killed fandom culture, and anyone producing content is suffering for it. I mean, seriously, AO3 isn’t TikTok. We’re not getting paid to do this shit, we’re doing it for free. All of us have lives outside of this, whether it be school, work, etc. But we’re still taking time out of our busy schedules to create something not for us, but for you. Sure, people say “write for yourself”, and to an extent, I do, but if I were writing for just myself I wouldn’t spend hours polishing my work so I could post it and share it with you. The things I’ve written solely for myself are scrappy. They’re in notebooks. They’re not meant for you.

But the works I share online, those are written for you. Not for me, but for you. And in return for what is often weeks of work, we get a click. A digital heart, if we’re lucky. Because modern social media culture is all about consumption—click, consume, then move on to the next thing without even bothering to at the very least thank the person who crafted something with love for your eyes. I can’t speak for artists, but as a writer this is very disheartening. Nowadays, I find myself more and more inclined to quit what I do and focus on the other things in my life, because I’ve spent god only knows how much of my time creating for you only to see not a single thanks for it, and over time it’s just gotten worse and worse. I don’t want to quit writing. I’m proud of my AO3, and I do have readers who enjoy my work and let me know that—unfortunately, they’re in the slim minority; so much so that I can count them on one hand. But the fact of the matter is that art is not meant for this rapid consumption culture. And when people put their heart and soul into creating things for you FOR FREE and see nothing for it, we become disheartened. We feel like it’s all for nothing. And we want to quit. It takes maybe 30 seconds to leave a comment. It doesn’t have to be anything extravagant; oftentimes just a simple “thank you” will make a writer’s day. A couple nice words could give us the motivation to create something new.

Please, if you have any ounce of respect for the creatives in your life, just leave a comment. I don’t care if y’all on here call me selfish or greedy, because as a writer, trust me—your comments mean the world.

#at the very least just hear what i’m saying #bc i believe i speak on behalf of all of us here #astralisposting #comment culture #comment on fics #ao3 #archive of our own #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #cultural commentary #rant post #writing #writers on tumblr #writeblr #/srs

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celestialgallaghers · 2 days ago

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Bruised Ego [18+]

Oasis brain rot has consumed me so badly i’m sorry.

Summary: Tagging along on tour with Oasis should’ve been amazing. And it was except for one major problem: Liam. You two don’t get on well and being stuck around him for days on end makes it worse. After a particularly ruthless offense on your end, Liam plots his revenge.

Word count: 7.1k

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Your ears were ringing, the vibrations of the music still thrumming through your body. Being on tour with Oasis was fun. Ecstatic, even. The energy in the venues was unbelievable. Thousands and thousands of fans screamed, shouted, and practically worshipped the band. And somehow, they all seemed to remain relatively level-headed. I.e. they weren't divas.

Well, most of them weren't.

Liam was often brash and unpredictable. It was amazing that he and Noel were even related.

You’d met Noel way back in his roadie days and the two of you had shared some good fuckin’ laughs. He was fun to be around, never taking shit too seriously. Sure he could be a cocky bastard too, but it was in a loveable way. Liam, on the other hand, was anything but.

Over the years, you’d become part of Noel’s inner circle. You knew his friends, his girlfriends, his dealer, everything. It was inevitable that Liam would have to be part of that picture too.

Your first impression of him was that he was a bit standoffish. He stood about, not saying much. Mostly lingered in the background, drink in hand, tossing out the occasional quip. In the beginning you didn’t mind him. However when the band really started to take off and you began hanging around more, he changed. Became more self assured and loud-mouthed. Suddenly, avoiding him wasn’t so easy. Before, you only had to put up with him at the pub or a gig, and even then, he was tolerable. Running his mouth? You walked away. Being more annoying than usual? Another pint solved that. You had ways of drowning him out.

That all changed when you found yourself stuck on a tour bus for endless hours with him.

You’d been a fan of Oasis since their genesis. Well, since Noel joined anyway. So when they exploded all over the world, you didn’t think twice when he asked if you wanted to join for a leg of the tour. In hindsight, maybe you should've thought it through more.

You and Liam had never exactly seen eye to eye, but the tour had amplified every little irritation. It had started small. Accusing you of stealing his lighter (you didn’t), calling your taste in music “shite”, or nicking your sunglasses. You gave as good as you got, though. A well-placed jab about his ego or a quip about how Noel carried the band usually did the trick.

Then there were the more vicious moments. Like the time you’d shared a hotel wall and he refused to turn down his music, no matter how many times you banged on the wall. Or when he told a reporter you were just some groupie who wouldn’t leave, which led to a shouting match so loud that even Noel had to step in. And of course the night he’d implied that your friendship with Noel was something more, which was completely untrue.

It was exhausting, infuriating, and completely unavoidable. No matter how much you tried to ignore him, Liam had a way of pulling you into his orbit whether you liked it or not.

Tonight’s show had been another insanely loud and energetic one, but something was clearly pissing Liam off. You’d taken on the simple job of handing them towels after the gig, and the scowl on his face almost made you laugh. And right now, as he sulked in the post-show haze, you had a feeling he was about to throw a fit over something ridiculous. By now you’d learned how to interpret Liam-isms. After being in eachothers pockets for so long, it was practically second nature. But that meant you also knew how to push his buttons, almost as well as Noel did.

You handed off the last towel and followed everyone back into the dressing room. Another thing you loved about Oasis? Every single show ended with everyone getting completely pissed and going a bit mad. Absolute mayhem. And you loved every second of it. As you made your way through the door, you noticed Liam was already sulking in the corner. Everyone else ignored him, too busy cracking open bottles and flicking lighters. The air was thick with smoke and sweat.

Someone handed you a beer, and you perched on the edge of a rickety couch. You’d learned the hard way not to trust the surfaces of dressing room couches. Some things were better left unknown.

Noel found you, and the two of you clinked bottles.

“Great show tonight,” you said, taking a swig. “They were screamin’ proper loud. I think my ears will be ringing for a week.” Noel chuckled but before he could even open his mouth, Liam mumbled something from the corner.

You turned your head toward him. “What?”

“Said if you don’t like it, you can leave” Liam repeated, his expression growing more and more agitated. “No one’s askin’ you to hang round”

You scoffed. The audacity of this man never ceased to amaze you. “Don’t be an arsehole, Liam,” you said, disdain dripping from every syllable.

Noel just stood there, vaguely amused. He had always appreciated your ability to handle Liam’s antics, no matter how insufferable they could be. Liam, on the other hand, just glowered.

“No, really,” he said, shoving himself to his feet and shuffling over. “What exactly is it that you’re doin’ here? You’re just in it for the free ride.”

You rolled your eyes and leaned toward Noel, speaking as if Liam weren’t even there. “What crawled up his arse?” Noel smirked and took a slow sip of his beer. “Dunno. But whatever it is, it’s been there a while.”

Ignoring Liam was probably a mistake. “No, I’m seriously askin’ you,” voice sharpening. “What’s the real reason you hang around?”

You blinked, caught off guard for just a second. Was he serious? Now you were starting to get properly pissed off.

“You know damn well why I’m here so don’t act thick,” you snapped, trying to keep your voice level. “Noel asked me to come, and I said yes. If you’ve got a problem, take it up with him.”

Noel, ever the instigator, simply shrugged. “Yeah, Liam. Thought you liked when people actually wanna be around us.”

Liam ignored him, eyes still locked on you. “You don’t even do anything,” he shot back, sneering. “All you do is hand us the towels and take up space.”

Your fingers tightened around the bottle in your hand.

“Fuck you, Liam.”

His expression twisted into something smug as he watched you rise to leave. And then, like the complete tosser he was, he moved to the door, blocking your exit.

“Oh, so you’re gonna run away now? Like you always do?” His voice dripped with condescension.

You glared up at him. Unfortunately, he was taller than you. Significantly taller. You tried to push past him, but he shifted, making it even harder.

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” he said, that insufferable smirk creeping onto his face.

“Let me through, Liam.” Your voice was quiet, but laced with pure rage. You were not in the mood to get into a screaming match tonight. He stood his ground, so you put all of your body weight into shoving him out of my way. He barely budged.

This only seemed to amuse him. “And what if I don’t?” he challenged, a smug grin pulling at the corner of his lips.

You clenched your jaw. You knew you shouldn’t do it. You really shouldn’t do it. But he was leaving you no choice.

Before you could overthink it, you brought your knee up. Hard.

A strangled gasp escaped him as he doubled over, finally allowing you to move past. The sound of laughter and jeers echoed behind you as you stormed off, gripping your beer tight. You needed somewhere quiet. Somewhere to stew. And maybe have a cigarette of two.

You found a quiet, secluded corner and let out a deep sigh, still fuming. You were mad. Not just at Liam, but at yourself for letting him get under your skin so easily. His words replayed in your mind. “Free ride.” Bastard. Sure, you supposed tagging along with the band might look like freeloading to him, but to accuse you of just taking up space? That stung. Noel was your friend. He was the one that asked you to come, not Liam. If Liam had a problem with that he should’ve said something sooner, not as we were nearing the end of the tour.

You leaned back against a cool concrete ledge, letting the chill seep into your skin. The air here was quiet, calm. Something you desperately needed after the chaos of the dressing room.

You fished a cigarette out of your pocket and placed it between your lips, willing the nicotine to ease the knot of irritation in your chest. Halfway through your second one, you heard the distinct sound of footsteps approaching.

They slowed as they neared, hesitating. Your gaze remained firmly fixed ahead. You knew exactly who it was. His stupid cologne gave him away. Liam. Of course. Something told you Noel had forced him to come find you.

He cleared his throat loudly, as if demanding your attention.

“What do you want?” you asked flatly, refusing to acknowledge his presence.

“Brilliant. Nice to see you too,” he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “What do you think, genius? I want to talk to you. You’re the one who kneed me in the bollocks, remember?”

You scoffed, flicking ash off your cigarette. “Yeah and you deserved it.”

Liam’s scowl deepened, his jaw tightening. He knew he deserved it a bit, but would never admit it. He gritted his teeth before replying.

“You didn’t have to be so violent about it.”

“Yeah well you didn’t have to be such a dick either” you shot back, finally turning your head to look at him.

Liam felt a surge of frustration and annoyance. He didn’t like being scolded and less being told he was wrong.

“I wasn’t even being that bad,” he retorted with a scoff. “You’re the one who overreacted.”

“Yeah sure ok Liam” you said sarcastically, rolling your eyes. “It’s not like you were deliberately trying to wind me up or anything.”

Liam folded his arms, clearly annoyed but unsure how to counter that. Instead, he moved to sit on the ledge you’d claimed. A few beats of silence passed before he spoke again, his tone carrying just a hint of mockery.

“You could at least apologize for almost castrating me,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching in what might have been a grin if he weren’t so irritated.

You sat up, looking at him with a deadpan expression. “Fine. I’m sorry for kneeing you in the balls.” It wasn’t sincere and he knew it. But you really didn’t want to waste your night fighting with him yet again.

“Drinks to make it better?” you offered, gesturing toward the dressing room.

He narrowed his eyes at you, still skeptical, but eventually relented with a small huff. “Fine. You owe me for that one.”

“Atta boy,” you said, patting his leg as you slid off the ledge.

“Don’t mock me,” he grumbled.

“Oh, don’t be such a baby,” you teased, noting how he was still wincing. “I didn’t get you that bad.”

“You definitely did!” he retorted, irritation mounting. “I’ll be sterile for the rest of my life now, thanks to you”

“Maybe that's for the best,” you said under your breath.

“What was that?” His head whipped toward you, eye’s narrowing.

“Nothing” you huffed. “Let’s all just hope and pray that the mighty Liam Gallagher's dick still works.”

“Oh piss off,” he grumbled.

You snorted at that. Men were so touchy when it came to their dick. It honestly amused you.

“Fine, fine,” you said, holding up your hands in mock surrender. “I’ll find you some ice for that, yeah?”

“Don’t bother,” he grumbled. “I’m fine.”

But your eyes flicked down, catching the way he subtly adjusted himself, clearly still nursing the ache.

“Sure you are,” you replied, biting back a grin. “How bout that drink, then?”

Without waiting for a reply, you headed back toward the dressing room, hearing his footsteps reluctantly follow behind. True to your word, you fixed him a drink. By the time you handed it to him, his scowl had softened slightly, though you knew it’d be a while before he dropped the whole thing.

❦ ❦ ❦

The night stretched on, the room a blur of laughter, music, and the occasional drunken shout. People drifted in and out, and you, now properly drunk, had completely pushed the earlier incident to the back of your mind.

What you didn’t notice, however, was the way Liam had been watching you from across the room, his gaze sharp, unreadable. There was still a flicker of irritation in his eyes, though now it was laced with something else. He’d slowly been plotting a way to get a bit of payback throughout the night.

You stood up suddenly, stretching. “Right, I’m going for a piss,” you announced, making your way toward the bathroom.

Liam’s eyes tracked you, and as soon as you disappeared behind the door, he quickly drained the rest of his drink and pushed himself off the couch. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he strolled after you, slipping through the bathroom door quietly.

He saw you, but you hadn’t noticed him. A small thrill of satisfaction ran through him. He leaned against the door, making sure it was securely shut. A quick scan of the bathroom confirmed that you were all alone.

You’d just finished washing your hands when the sound of someone clearing their throat made you freeze. Your head snapped up, and through the mirror, you locked eyes with him.

“What the fuck, Liam?”

His smirk widened at your obvious surprise. He leaned lazily against the door, arms folded across his chest, exuding a sort of casual arrogance that set your nerves on edge.

“Just checking in on you, mate,” he said, voice laced with amusement. “Would hate for something to happen to you.”

“You didn’t need to follow me in here, you creep.”

Liam just chuckled, completely unfazed. “Just making sure you weren’t up to anything. You know, plotting which band member to incapacitate next.”

You rolled your eyes, but something about the way he was watching you, like he was waiting for a reaction, made you uneasy. You suddenly felt vulnerable with your back to him.

“What are you getting at?” you asked, turning around slowly to face him.

Liam tilted his head slightly, considering you. He could see the flicker of suspicion in your eyes, and that only fueled his amusement. He wasn’t about to let you off easy.

A strange tension settled in the air. The bathroom suddenly felt much smaller. You still had no idea what he was up to, but didn’t want to stick around and find out. You eyed the door, trying to plan an escape, but it seemed like you were really truly trapped in here with him.

Liam caught the way your gaze flickered toward the door. “You’re not actually thinking of running out on me after I’ve been so considerate, are you?” His tone was mockingly hurt. “That’d be a bit rude.”

You sighed, tilting your head. “Just trying to figure out what it is you want.”

He let out a quiet chuckle, feigning innocence. “What? Can’t a guy just have a friendly chat?”

You gave him a deadpan look. “Is this about earlier? I thought we’d moved past that.”

Liam scoffed. “Just returning the favor, me. You know, since you nearly ended my bloodline earlier.”

You snorted. “What, you gonna punch me in the vagina or something?”

Liam let out a short, amused chuckle and shook his head. “Nah, that’s a bit daft, don’t you think? There are… much more creative ways to get back at someone.”

Your gaze sharpened, suspicion flaring. “Like what?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he took his time, pretending to consider his options, drawing out the moment just to see the flicker of impatience cross your face.

Then, he leaned forward slightly, dropping his tone low, almost whisper-like.

“What if I just lock the door?” His voice was teasing, but there was an unmistakable edge to it. “Keep you right here with me for a while.”

The air in the bathroom shifted.

You could still hear muffled sounds from the dressing room outside, but inside this tiny, enclosed space, it was just the two of you. The weight of his words lingered, heavy between you.

You held his gaze, refusing to waver. “Oh yeah?” Your voice was steady, but there was a challenge in it. “And why would you wanna do that?”

Liam’s lips curled into a slow, knowing smirk. He could hear the defiance in your voice, but he could also see the way your fingers twitched slightly, the way you shifted just the tiniest bit where you stood. He pushed himself off the door, taking a slow step towards you.

“Oh, you know, just to enjoy your company a little longer. It’s been a while since we had some… alone time.”

Your breath hitched for a fraction of a second before you forced yourself to scoff. But Liam caught it. You turned away slightly, arms crossing over your chest in a weak attempt at indifference. But it was too late. He’d seen the heat creeping up the back of your neck, the way your shoulders tensed just slightly. Because you knew exactly what he was referring to.

That night.

Months ago, in a dimly lit pub, Liam had sworn up and down he could outdrink everyone. It had started with an innocent enough bet: who could drink the most pints before tapping out. Classic, stupid, testosterone-fueled entertainment. But as the night went on, it became less about the booze and more about Liam’s ego.

“I could drink you under the fuckin’ table, mate,” he’d slurred, pointing a lazy finger at you across the sticky wooden bar top.

“You’re already halfway there, Liam,” you’d shot back, smirking as he swayed slightly on his stool.

Noel had been pissing himself laughing in the corner, watching as his brother made a fool of himself.

Somehow, you and Liam had been the last ones standing. That’s when things got messy. The two of you had spent hours running wild through the streets, fueled by booze, drugs, and reckless abandon, only to end up in his bed the next morning.

Neither of you had spoken about it since. You hadn’t been sure he even remembered. He never let on or made a jest about it, so you pretended that it didn’t even happen. It was easier that way. Easier to hate him than to… well you didn’t really know. It was a feeling you were too scared to explore and something told that going down that road would be detrimental.

But now, standing here, Liam watching you with that smug, knowing look, the memory felt a little too close.

His eyes flicked over your expression, smirk widening. “You remember that night, don’t you?” His voice was slow, deliberate. “It’s a bit blurry for me, but some moments I remember quite vividly.”

He took a step closer, and you willed yourself not to react. You met his gaze evenly, forcing an unimpressed scoff. “We’re not doing that again,” you said flatly. Then, for good measure, you added, “And from what I recall, you were quite unremarkable.”

It was a blatant lie.

“Hm,” he hummed, tilting his head as if in thought. “Funny, that’s not what I remember.” He took another step forward. Slow. Measured. “The sounds you made were pretty unforgettable, I must say.”

Your stomach flipped. You’d been caught. There was no escaping this. Memories that you’d forbidden yourself to think about were now rushing to the surface at an alarming rate, making you flush all over.

He was only a few feet away now, closing in. You were running out of space, out of room to breathe.

“Not. Happening.”

The words came out strong, firm, but your heart was hammering against your ribs, betraying you. He could see right through it.

His gaze locked onto yours, eyes dark and unreadable. The tension was thick, pressing in from all sides. When you instinctively moved back, your lower back met the cool edge of the sink, stopping you in your tracks.

Shit.

Liam let out a low chuckle, stepping even closer until he was nearly flush against you. The heat rolling off him was overwhelming.

“Are you sure?” His voice was lower now, teasing. “Not even a little bit interested?”

He brought his hands to either side of the sink, caging you in. You swallowed hard.

“Liam.”

It was supposed to be a warning, a firm line in the sand. But it came out softer, almost pleading. You winced at yourself.

His smirk grew. He’d caught it.

Your eyes flickered down to his mouth, slightly parted, lips plush and so damn close. He licked them absently, and the tip of his tongue just barely grazed you. A small, sharp inhale escaped before you could stop it.

Your breath mingled with his, the gap between you shrinking, pulling you into some inevitable gravitational force. He smelled like beer, sweat, and something distinctly Liam. Something intoxicating.

Your brain was screaming at you to walk away. To push him off. To regain control of the situation. But the alcohol and sudden lust in your bloodstream were drowning out those voices, leaving behind only heat, impulse, and the undeniable truth that this was a losing battle.

One second you're standing there, locked in a tug of war, and the next, your mouth was crashing into his with bruising force. A sigh of relief escaped your throat, unbidden, as if your body had been waiting for this moment all along.

Liam, the bastard, smirked into the kiss, because of course he would. He presses back with equal if not more force. His hands move from the sink to your waist, pinning you against the cool porcelain. Your hands fly up, grasping the back of his neck, desperate for balance, for something to ground you.

Then he does it. His tongue flicking over your bottom lip, teasing, coaxing. You let out a small, needy sound before you can stop it, and his grip on your waist tightens in response. Alarm bells ring in your head, but they’re no use.

Liam, ever the smug prick, takes his time, dragging his teeth over your lip, biting just hard enough to make you shiver. But it's not enough. Not nearly enough.

You tug him closer, pressing against him. You take control, tongue sliding into his mouth, swallowing the low groan that rumbles in his throat.

For a moment you’re lost in the taste of him. The heat of him. The way his hands grip you like he doesn’t want to let go. Then he pushes into you, his hips pressing heavy against yours, pinning you so firmly into the sink that you feel every inch of him. The realization sends a thrill through you, heat beginning to sink low into your stomach and down between your thighs.

This is dangerous territory. But you can’t find it in yourself to care.

Then he’s grinding against you, slow and deliberate, and the pressure makes you gasp into his mouth. Your fingers tighten around the back of his neck, nails digging in as your body arches instinctively into his. Liam groans, low and rough. His hand moves from your waist, trailing down your thighs. Suddenly he’s hooking your leg around his hip, giving himself more space.

He presses impossibly closer, and you feel him, hard and insistent against your heated core. A strangled sound escapes your throat, something needy and desperate.

His mouth moves, leaving your lips to trail down your jaw, hot and unrelenting, and when he reaches the pulse point on your neck, he bites down just enough to make you whimper.

Your eyes flutter shut, body shaking slightly as Liam drags his teeth over that one spot that makes you shiver. He feels it, feels you, react beneath him, and the bastard smiles against your skin.

Then he sucks, lips warm and wet as he marks you, punctuating it with a sharp thrust of his hips that sends sparks up your spine. A strangled whine spills from your lips as your fingers tighten in his hair, gripping him like he’s the only thing keeping you grounded. A steady, aching pulse throbs low in your core, demanding more. Demanding him.

You roll your hips, grinding against him, chasing that friction, and Liam groans. A deep, guttural sound that makes your skin burn. His grip tightens, one hand splaying across your ass, dragging you harder against him.

The feeling of him hot, hard, grinding against you sends another sharp thrill through your body, but it’s still not enough.

You need more. You need all of him.

“Liam,” you manage to gasp, voice wrecked and wanting.

“Fuck,” Liam mutters, voice rough against your skin. “You really are desperate for me, aren’t you?”

His words send a fresh wave of heat straight through you, and you should fight back, should snap at him for his cocky arrogance, but then he rolls his hips again, perfectly, and all that leaves your lips is a broken moan.

He pulls away from your neck, lifting his gaze to meet yours. His lips are flushed, swollen, glistening with spit. His eyes—dark, heavy-lidded, filled with something dangerous—leave you momentarily breathless, completely losing your train of thought at how devastatingly gorgeous he looks like this.

You’re broken from your trance as you feel him twitch rather noticeably against you. Your breath catches, heat flooding through you all over again.

Liam notices. Of course, he does. A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth as he presses forward just a little more, just enough to make you feel it.

“Feel that?” His voice is rough, teasing, laced with something darker.

You swallow hard, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer. Instead, you grip the front of his shirt, pulling him closer.

He chuckles, breath hot against your cheek. “C’mon, love. Don’t go shy on me now.”

You purse your lips, fighting the way your body reacts to him, to his cocky arrogance, to the way he’s so sure of himself. “I don’t know,” you murmur breathlessly, tilting your head and pretending to consider. “Feels… underwhelming.”

Liam lets out a sharp breath, half amusement, half disbelief, before his hands tighten on your hips. In one swift movement, he ruts against you, slow but deep, the pressure enough to knock the air from your lungs.

You gasp. His smirk returns.

“Still underwhelmed?” he murmurs against your jaw, his lips brushing skin.

You hate him. You hate how good he is at this. But mostly, you hate how much you want more.

“Liam,” your voice wavering, thick with frustration.

He chuckled, dark and low, the sound vibrating against your skin. “So impatient,” he murmured, fingers tracing lazy patterns just above where you ached for him.

You sucked in a sharp breath, hips jerking involuntarily as his hand slipped under your shirt and began toying with the waistband of your jeans, the ghost of a touch setting every nerve alight. The bastard knew exactly what he was doing.

You feel his fingers skimming along your zipper and nod. He wastes no time in unbuttoning and unzipping your jeans, pushing them down to give himself just enough room.

He slips his hand inside, exploring the newly exposed skin of your inner thigh. His touch was feather light, slowly dragging his fingers, deliberately teasing everywhere except where you needed him most. Your body was tensing with every drag. Every time he would get close he would skirt around at the last moment

It was torture. You tried to grind against his hand, desperate for even the smallest bit of friction, anything, but the moment you did, he pulled back completely.

You gasped, eyes snapping open in disbelief.

Liam smirked, watching you with a cruel sort of amusement, chest rising and falling just as heavily as yours. He was enjoying this. Holding you on the edge, dragging it out.

“Tell me what you want,” he said, voice challenging.

Your pride flared for half a second because fuck him, he knew exactly what you wanted. But another, bigger part of you, the one that was throbbing and needy and desperate, didn’t care about pride anymore.

Your fingers curled into his shirt, pulling him closer, eyes burning into his.

“Please,” you gasped, not caring how desperate you sounded. This was beginning to border on agony. You needed him to touch you.

His fingers skimmed the waistband of your underwear, maddingley slow. “Please what?” he murmured, voice thick.

You swallowed hard. Frustration and want coiled tight in your stomach. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth, that damn smirk playing on his face as he dragged his gaze over you. He was enjoying this too much. You knew he wouldn’t give in easily.

You bit your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction. You wouldn’t beg. Not yet.

Liam arched a brow, clearly amused by your silence. “C’mon, love,” he taunted, fingers tracing lower but still not there. “I know you can be polite.”

Your pride waged a brief, losing battle. “Touch me,” you breathed, barely above a whisper. Then, gritting your teeth, you forced out, “Please.”

Liam’s smirk deepened, victory flashing in his eyes.

“See? All you had to do was ask” he said, voice dripping with smug satisfaction.

Liam’s hand slid down again, this time with purpose, and he pressed his thumb roughly over your clit. The jolt of pleasure shot through you like a live wire, making your hips jerk involuntarily. His low, knowing chuckle sent another shiver down your spine.

He started circling you slowly though your underwear, teasing, barely giving you what you needed. A strangled moan escaped your lips. You were soaked. There was no way he couldn’t feel it.

“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath, voice thick with something akin to reverence.

Two fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your underwear, then lower, parting you as he gathered the slickness between them. The rough pads of his fingers dragged torturously along your heat before teasing at your entrance.

Your head fell back against the mirror as he finally dipped into you, stretching you in a way that was both excruciatingly slow and devastatingly perfect.

His fingers curled, expertly finding the spot that had you gasping, clutching at him. A high-pitched whine slipped from your throat. Liam sighed shakily in response, his free hand gripping your hip as he leaned in to capture your lips again. He swallowed every sound you made, lips moving hungrily against yours, matching the urgent rhythm of his fingers.

And then he curled them again, deeper this time. More deliberate.

Stars burst behind your eyelids. Your hips rocked into him, desperately chasing the pleasure, and he let you. Let you fall into the pace he was setting, let you lose yourself in it. His thumb returned to your clit, circling with devastating precision.

You were close. So close it almost hurt.

“Mm—Liam—” you gasped, body shuddering, the coil in your stomach ready to snap.

But then his fingers were gone.

Your eyes snapped open in disbelief, your body trembling from the abrupt loss. You barely had time to catch your breath before you met his gaze, smug, victorious, infuriating.

“What the fuck?” you panted.

He leaned in, lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “That’s for earlier. You deserved it.”

Irritation bubbled up as you felt your own words echoed back at you. He was enjoying this, playing with you like a cat with a mouse.

He was pulling away from you, but before he could get too far, you grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked. Hard. “Don't you dare walk away from me.”

He let out a surprised whine, head tilting back slightly at the force. When his eyes flicked back to yours, they were darker, hungrier.

“You really need to stop pulling my hair,” he rasped, though the way his body reacted said otherwise.

You smirked. “Yeah? Or what?”

His grin turned downright predatory. He leaned in close, lips ghosting over yours as he murmured, “Or I’ll make you remember who’s in charge next time,” voice thick with dangerous promise.

A thrill ran down your spine, but defiance still burned hot in your veins. You yanked his hair even harder.

He threw his head back, eyes briefly fluttering shut as he let out a deep, guttural groan. The sound went straight to your stomach.

When he looked at you again, there was something new in his gaze, something dangerously close to snapping.

“You’re really asking for it,” he muttered, his voice rough.

You tilted your chin up, challenging him. “Yeah? You’re all talk. I’d like to see you even tr—”

Before you could finish, Liam spun you around in one swift, effortless motion, pressing you against the sink.

Your breath caught as he caged you in from behind, his body flush against yours, his grip firm. His hands settled on your hips, fingers digging in just enough to make you shiver.

He made eye contact with you through the mirror, wanting to see your every reaction when he spoke.

“You want to play rough, do you?” Liam’s voice was low, edged with something dark and tantalizing. His lips brushed your ear as he whispered “Is that what you want?”

His fingers trailed slowly down your back, tracing each curve like he was mapping every inch of you. The teasing touch sent shivers racing down your spine, anticipation tightening in your stomach. Your breathing was ragged, uneven. You couldn’t trust yourself to speak, so you simply nodded.

Liam tsked softly, his lips barely grazing your ear as he murmured, “Use your words.”

His hand dipped lower, grazing right where you needed him most. The lightest touch, barely there but enough to have your knees buckling.

You choked out a whimper, torn between pride and raw, undeniable need. But there was no fighting it anymore.

“Please,” you gasped, voice unsteady.

A low chuckle rumbled from his chest. His fingers kept teasing, playing just on the edge of where you needed him, drawing out your desperation.

“Please what?” he asked yet again, tone mockingly sweet, fingers dancing ever so slightly closer.

You clenched your jaw, stubbornness warring with your need. “Don’t make me say it,” you whispered, still clinging to the last thread of your dignity.

Liam hummed as if considering, then pulled back slightly. “Fine, I’ll just leave you here then.” His tone was maddeningly casual, like this was nothing to him. “I’ll walk right out that door.”

Panic surged through you. Without thinking, you grabbed his wrist, gripping it like a lifeline. “Please,” you exhaled shakily, voice barely above a whisper. “Fuck me.”

Liam went still for a beat. Then, his smirk curled wickedly against your skin. “What was that?” he taunted, fingers skimming along your inner thigh, feather-light and infuriating. “Couldn’t quite hear you, love.”

A shiver wracked through you, and you shot him a glare through the mirror. “Bastard, yes you did,” you managed, your voice trembling despite the bite in your words.

His smirk widened. He must have had enough too because the next thing you heard was the unmistakable sound of a zipper being undone. A wave of relief crashed over you, body humming with anticipation. The mirror didn’t give you a view of him, but then you felt him. He pressed himself against you, the hard, burning length of him making you gasp. You’d nearly forgotten how well endowed he was, insides clenching in remembrance.

Liam groaned low in his throat as he felt your bare skin against his. The sensation sent a shudder through him, his restraint hanging by a thread. He pressed against you further, every inch of his body aligning with yours. His chin dropped to rest on your shoulder as his breath came out ragged and wanting.

“Fuck,” he muttered, voice wrecked.

His eyes locked onto yours through the mirror and for a moment, you barely recognized yourself. Your face was flushed, lips parted as you struggled for breath, hair an absolute mess. Liam didn’t look much different except he carried that insufferable smugness. His pupils were blown wide, the sharp blue of his eyes almost lost in the haze of lust.

He reached up, brushing your hair aside before pressing a searing kiss to the exposed skin of your neck. The heat of it sent shivers down your spine. And then, with one smooth movement, he aligned himself against you, teasing your entrance.

Your eyes fluttered shut as he pushed forward for you to feel him. Only the tip. Just enough to drive you insane.

“Liam, God, ple—”

Your plea was cut off by a sharp thrust, his hips snapping forward with force. He went in much deeper than either of you had anticipated, if his choked-off groan was anything to go by. Another strangled groan ripped from his throat as he sank in, fully stretching you open. The sensation stole the air from your lungs.

For a moment he stilled, chest rising and falling in harsh, uneven breaths. The way you clenched around him had him hanging onto the last threads of his restraint. You could feel the tension in his body, the effort it took not to completely lose himself in you. Then he pulled back, slow and deliberate, before plunging in again.

A choked-off noise tore from your throat, almost embarrassing if not for the deep, wrecked sound Liam let out at the same time. His fingers dug into your hips, gripping tight enough to leave bruises as he built a rhythm, driving into you with increasing intensity. He cursed under his breath, clearly loving how eagerly you moved with him. His pace grew rougher, more urgent.

Your head dropped forward, letting him take what he wanted. You were already on edge from earlier, your body eager and desperate. You pushed back against him, meeting his thrusts with as much force as you could muster.

Then one of his hands left your hip, sliding up your body. Before you could even process it, he fisted a handful of your hair and yanked your head back up, forcing you to meet his gaze in the mirror. He wanted to see every single one of your expressions as he hit deep inside you, wanted to see the way your face changed as he hit that spot that made your breath catch.

This sight was filthy. The two of you, tangled together, bodies slick with sweat, moving in sync. The way his jaw clenched, lips parted slightly as he watched every expression that flickered across your face, sent a fresh wave of heat through you.

Your whole body was on fire. You struggled to keep your head up, feeling it droop again. He firmly yanked it back up again, a quiet hiss of pain and pleasure spilling from your lips. You trembled beneath him, and he groaned at the sight of it, at the way you responded to him so beautifully. His pace became relentless, his hips snapping into yours with forceful precision. Every thrust drove you closer and closer to the edge.

You were shaking now, the coil inside you wound impossibly tight. Liam wasn’t far behind. You could feel it in the way he throbbed inside you, how his movements became just a little rougher, more erratic. With a gasp, one hand slipped down between your thighs, fingers circling your clit with frantic desperation.

“Just like that, love,” Liam murmured, his breath hot against your skin. “Don’t stop.”

His words sent fire racing over your skin and a sharp thrust sent you toppling over the edge. A cry tore from your throat as the pleasure crashed over you in waves, your body clenching tight around him. Your legs shook, entire body trembling as you rode it out, moans spilling from your lips, unrestrained and raw.

Liam cursed, his grip tightening as he pounded into you through your release. The way you clenched around him had his own control shattering in an instant.

“Fuck” His voice broke as he buried himself deep one last time, warmth flooding inside you as his body tensed, the most heavenly sound leaving his lips. You managed to open your eyes and were met with his beautiful face screwed up in sheer pleasure as he rode out his orgasm, a face you knew you’d never forget.

For a moment, neither of you moved, caught in the lingering aftershocks. Then, slowly, he slumped forward, his sweat-damp forehead resting against your shoulder, breath hot and heavy against your skin. He stayed there for a few moments, catching his breath before pressing a surprisingly gentle kiss to your shoulder.

Your eyes meet in the mirror again. Liam was still breathing hard, hair disheveled, his skin glistening with sweat. But there was a lazy, satisfied smile on his lips, his blue eyes dark and hazy.

After catching his breath, he slowly pulled out of you, groaning softly at the feeling. You immediately miss the warmth and weight of him deep within you.

Liam stepped back slightly, regaining his balance, his gaze dragging over you through the mirror. You looked thoroughly wrecked and judging by the glint in his eyes, he was damn proud of that. You straightened, stretching and feeling the soreness in your limbs from being bent over a bathroom sink for so long.

“Looks like your dick still works,” you teased.

Liam let out a deep, amused laugh, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, it certainly does.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively as he tucked himself back into his pants.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the grin spreading across your face. “Am I forgiven then?” you question, batting your eyelashes for good measure.

Liam hummed, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “I suppose you are,” he said, amusement lacing his tone.

Then, before you could respond, he stepped in closer and dipped his head, placing a light kiss against your jaw. His lips barely ghosted over your skin before he murmured, voice low and promising.

“But you’re not getting off easy next time.”

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This was just for fun but I'll probably write about Noel next :)

#liam gallagher x reader #liam gallagher x you #liam gallagher #oasis #oasis band #liam gallagher fic #90s liam gallagher #i am plagued by visions

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