#that being said i don't respond to everything now on older fics

[not-poignant]

20. number of comments you haven't read. - I thought you read all the comments

I do read all of the comments.

There is not a single comment I haven't read, anon. Not one. Even in the periods of time where AO3 stopped sending out email notifications due to bugs, and those never ended up clearing, I manually checked and read everything on the site.

I've never missed a single fanfiction comment on any site, honestly. I see them all. I know who my regulars are, even if they think I don't notice them, even if their version of regular is 'a few times 8 years ago and a few times 8 years later.' And that's probably weird, but one doesn't end up writing serials if you don't care about your comments (well, I don't, anyway!)

Not only that, but I read every AO3 comment immediately, i.e. - as soon as I see it. I never let those emails wait. I open every single one. (Which sometimes has ruined some mornings, depending on if I get a shitty comment, lmao).

~

From the Assumptions meme!

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader - warning: postpartum depression requested by multiple: mama's family

"Where's my baby?!"

You can practically hear your teeth grinding together as you give your aunt a tight lipped smile. "He's due to get up any minute." She sighs, like it's an inconvenience, your mom hot on her heels.

"Hi honey," she says, glancing around your now pristine flat, "how are things?"

"Oh, fine." It's the same thing you've been saying this whole time. I'm fine. I'm good. Everything is great. "Went to the pediatrician the other day, Ry is perfect and healthy." You omit the rest of your news, the sudden reappearance of Simon, the stable, consistent presence in your life, the man who was supporting you in anyway he could.

Even though you absolutely do not want your mom or your aunt to meet him, let alone know about him-

you still kind of wish he was here.

He told you yesterday, regretfully, that he had meetings on base all day today, and you told him your mom and aunt were coming by, but probably wouldn't stay long. It was good, that he wouldn't be around.

Before he left for the night, he made you promise to call if you needed him. Text him to check in. You did as he asked, but didn't hear much. Not a surprise, since he said he wouldn't have a lot of time to respond, but still wanted updates.

"That's great honey." Her smile is genuine, and you know she means it. She does mean well, mostly. It's not her fault you're bad at asking for help, or that since you left home, you've become stubbornly independent. You even spent a few years "gallivanting across the globe" as your sister liked to say, shirking responsibility after uni.

Your family was used to you being a bit of a ghost.

"- don't you think?" Your aunt's voice brings you back to earth, and you nod robotically, unsure of what you're agreeing to. You're about to apologize for missing the conversation when the baby monitor on the kitchen counter lights up, Orion's fussy 'I just woke up mom, come get me' cry crackling from the speaker.

"That's for me." You joke half heartedly with a smile that doesn't reach your eyes. You know the battle with ensue as soon as you come back into the living room with the baby, and you dread it.

"Hi baby." You bend at the waist, scooping him out of his crib. "You're gettin' too heavy for mama, big boy. Don't know what I'm gonna do when you're older." The thought stops you in your tracks, the acknowledgement that he'll get older, that soon he'll be six months, and then a year, two. He'll learn to crawl, to walk, to speak. It's exciting, and anxiety inducing. What if you mess him up? What if you don't give him a good life? What if you're not a good mom, or he gets sick, or there's an accident, or an attack or-

No. You're not going to do this. You're not going to fall into these obsessive what ifs. It will only make you sick to your stomach.

You get him into a new nappy and clothes before slinking back into the living room, cowed with your head down. His head turns against your chest, seeking, and you know he's starting to realize he's hungry.

But the vultures don't care.

"Bring that boy over here, let me hold him." Your aunt croons, syrupy sick voice conjuring a roar of nausea.

"He's probably hungry." You start to warn them that this won't last long as you lower him into her arms, but you know it will fall on deaf ears. "So-"

"Just get a bottle from the fridge dear, I can feed him no problem." You fight the urge to to snap at her, unreasonable rage swelling inside your heart. No one feeds him except you, and Simon. Bottles are fine when you're asleep and can't nurse, or between feedings, but he doesn't eat as much from them. Of course, you've tried to tell them that, multiple times, but it never seems to stick. Your mom knows, but she never stands up to her older sister.

Like mother like daughter, you guess. You've never been a doormat per se, but you don't have a strongest backbone, and becoming a mom has changed you, a lot. You've become even more soft, more sensitive. It's... a problem.

"How are you feeling, honey?" You know she's asking mostly about your body, your stitches, your physical aches and pains, which were plenty considering what you went through when Ry was born, but your mom's voice is gentle, like she senses you frustration, and you give her a weak smile. It's nice she's expressing interest, but that's usually as far as it goes, unless you count the meals she's brought over that you barely picked it, not having enough energy to even feed yourself, or shower, or the suggestion that you give her the baby all the time so you could 'take a break' even though he screamed the moment he was separated from you. Not helpful. Nobody cared that you had scary thoughts, scary moments, scary days. Nobody offered to be here at night with you, when you were all alone with the baby after dark, terrified, crying in the bathroom with your face buried in a towel so you wouldn't wake him. No one was here when you were afraid you might hurt him, or yourself, and no one seemed to hear you when you shrugged over and over again, your lack of interest in everything explicitly clear.

You sucked at asking for help, so you didn't. And when you did, you never got it right, or got the right answers, so you stopped asking. Everything became fine. Good.

"Fine, good." She opens her mouth to say something, ask some question, probably about Ry, when your blood goes cold.

The sound of your front door opening rings out like a bang, your eyes widening in panic, and you nearly run to the kitchen.

Oh fuck. Oh no, no no no-

You turn in slow motion to see your baby's daddy, the man who has a key now, stepping through the doorway. As soon as you lay eyes on him, you split down the middle. You're horrified, because of what's about to happen with the two hens on the couch and-

your libido roars to life. Simon's not wearing his usual jeans or joggers and black hoodie, but a camouflage military uniform. One that he fills out, broad shoulders and broad chest fitted snug inside the material. You think you're staring. Or drooling. Or both.

His lips quirk up on one side with a secretive, almost seductive smile, and he peeks over your shoulder before turning his attention back to you. "Hey mama."

"H-hey. Uh. Hi." Your hands uselessly flit around, like you're trying to swat some invisible bugs away or something. "My mom is still here. And my aunt," you can't help yourself, you take him in from head to toe one more time, "you look... nice."

"Price makes me wear my BDU for on base meetings." He grunts, slightly exasperated. Who?

"BDU?"

"Battle dress uniform. It's... the approved, standard uniform. I don't wear it... in the field." His lips press together, and your mind wanders, curious questions about 'the field' popping up like fireworks, but you push them away. Now is definitely not the right time. His thumb brushes your cheek, under your eye, and he frowns. "Everything alright?"

You step to the side, motioning to the living room, where your aunt and mother are whispering fiercely. You roll your shoulders, and take a deep breath. "Do you... want to, say hi?" The question is weak, your voice small. His brow furrows. He looks hesitant, and you don't blame him. They're a lot. It's a lot. He glances down at you again, head tilted in consideration. "Or you could just go. If you ran out that door... well I'd only wish I could come with you." You whisper, and he cracks a smile.

"No. 'm not runnin' from any part of you, sweetheart. C'mon. They can't be worse than..." he trails off, odd look in his eyes before it clears, "they can't be worse than a lot of things."

He follows you around the corner of the kitchen, crossing the threshold of the living room with two large strides.

Your mother gasps. Your aunt makes a sound that you can only describe as a goose being strangled, and Orion starts to cry. Perfect.

"Oh, oh shhh, shhhh." Your aunt tries to soothe him, but you know it won't work.

"Mom," you call over the noise, gesturing to the giant man standing next to your coffee table, and you, "Mom! This is Simon." She stares at you, confused, shocked even. You never told her your one night stand's name, just that you couldn't track him down, so she doesn't make the connection.

Still, she gapes at him. Clears her throat with a question.

"Is this... your boyfriend honey?" Your aunt's expression is not much different, and you freeze. Is he? Is that what this is? You half expect Simon to reject the term boyfriend flat out, but instead-

"Something like that." His hand settles between your shoulder blades, and you lean into it, relishing the comfort. Just the presence of him in the flat is enough to soothe you, lessen the tension you feel building in your chest. "Sounds like he's hungry, mama."

"Yeah, I think he's more than ready." You reach for Ry, eager to pick him up, but your aunt shifts her body, shying away, turning her shoulder to you. You're used to this, the keep away, the way they always try to convince you he'll calm down, to let them hold him for too long, to get him a bottle... but Simon is not.

He goes rigid at your side. You can feel the muscle in his arm turn to stone, and his eyes narrow, upper lip curling. Your mother's eyes go wide, but your aunt remains oblivious. "I can feed him, dear. Go get a bottle warmed up and-"

"No." Simon snaps, rough pitch of his voice dipping deeper into the manc accent, and she bristles. This bitch wouldn't be scared of the devil himself.

"Excuse me?" You watch the muscle in his jaw flex with fascination, wondering what he'll do next. You're brought back to when you met, when he stared down the guy who pushed you out of the way at the bar like he was going to murder him, before calling you over to settle next to his thigh. He put his hand on your waist, shielded you from everyone else for the rest of the night.

You were a goner before you ever had a chance to begin.

"Orion wants his mother. You can hand him over without a fuss, or I can throw you out of this flat. Your choice." His words are hard, cold steel, a sharp knife slicing away, exposing vulnerable parts and smashing them to pieces.

Your aunt has the gall to look scandalized, but when you glance at your mother, she has a different expression. It's warm. Approving. She mets your eyes with a small smile as you scoop Orion up, and then she stands.

"We'll get out of your hair, honey." She tugs you into a half hug before looking over. "Nice to meet you Simon." Your aunt is ranting and raving all the way to your front door, but once it's shut...

"Bloody hell." He mutters, and shakes his head. "I won't let anyone push you 'round like that, sweetheart. Family or not. Especially not in your own home, I-"

"Thank you." It's all you can say. "I um, kind of suck at sticking up for myself, sometimes. It means a lot, that you would do that. For me." He steps close, hand covering Orion's belly and chest, even though he's still crying.

"Kitten doesn't have any claws," he murmurs against your ear, and your eyebrows knit together. Uh... what? "Don't worry, you won't need 'em. Not now that you have me." There's something dangerous in his tone, something lethal and profound. It’s as fervid as his proclamation about his commitment to you, to Orion. Like dark water, bottomless and black, it draws you out deeper, sends shivers up your spine, but doesn't turn you away. It makes you curious, intrigued, desperate to peel back his layers, to dig into him until you know it all, inside and out.

Curiosity killed the cat, isn’t that what they say?

You weren't afraid of him that night, and you're not afraid now. You know Simon is not an ordinary man. You know you've bitten off a lot, by having his baby, rekindling this connection, giving him a key-

but you plan to chew.

[hoshigray]

So I saw this tweet and thought then and there: Toji's fingers and how deliciously thick they are. Just imagine you always looking at his hands and being in absolute awe every time you look at them...And Toji uses this little infatuation to his advantage, to which you have no complaints.

A/n: Now I know it seems like I'm stalling my make-up sex Toji fic, but please accept this as a gift from my procrastinating ass (I swear idk what's wrong with me, I'm recently getting back into drawing and trying to relearn everything waaaaaahhh)!! I saw the new trailer and squealed seeing Toji (nothing new, lol), but then that tweet popped up right after, and I noticed how thick they animated his fingers!! So I just ran to my keyboard, and boom! Here we are!! Also, tysm for 400+ followers like???!!! Y'all are far too sweet and kind, ya know that!? Tysm~~~

Cw: dom! Toji x fem! reader - fingering (obvi) - fingers in your mouth - Daddy kink - breast fondling - finger sucking - praise - pet names (angel, baby, darlin', good girl, kiddo, sweetie, sweetheart) - clitoral play (pushed down by finger)- mention of violence (reason for Toji's scars) - ends with overstimulation (fem! receiving).

Wc: 1.5k

There is no doubt that you love Toji unconditionally and blatantly. That is the truth. There's no denying he isn't an ideal man; both of you understand that. He has many flaws that you're perfectly aware of. Yet despite said imperfections, you choose to stick beside and love him as if he's worthy (which baffles the older, tall man).

There are many things you love about Toji. But if you could pick one thing you loved about Toji, it would be his hands. When he holds them, your hand is dwarfed by his big palm. When he pulls you close to him by the waist when you two are in a crowded area. Or when he cups your face and kisses you before leaving for hitman work.

Palms are rugged and large that effortlessly warm you up. Fingers calloused and decorated with faded scars that each hold a story. Veins that stem from the bulky arms contour all the way down to the back of his palms.

His hands. His big, rough, warm, and scarred hands. You love them so much. And you're not the only one who knows this.

Toji is no fool. He can sense your eyes observing him from across the room as he's washing the dishes from the kitchen. He doesn't have to lift his head to see you on the living room couch where you're supposedly reading something on your phone. But it was apparent your attention wasn't on the small screen in your hands.

"Whatcha lookin' at me for?" Again, not looking at you and finishing the dishes. His scarred lip twists into a smile when you cough nervously before responding.

"Oh, you know. Just looking at my man being so handsome washing those plates." You internally sigh in relief, saving yourself with a quick excuse.

Now Toji looks and grins at you, placing the last plate into the dish rack and drying his hands before walking up to the couch to sit comfortably beside you. His left arm is positioned behind your shoulders, bringing you closer to him. Your heart skips a beat.

Toji grabs the TV remote to change the channel to something interesting, probably sports or some sitcom. Not that you care, because you just watch his fingers press on the channel buttons and place the remote back onto the coffee table. His right hand then moves to his chin to scratch the slight stubble, and your orbs trace the outlines of the tiny scars that harbor on Toji's knuckles. He never entirely told you how those faded tissues came to be, but he'd say that he came out way better than the guy on the other side of his fists ("Fucker had it comin', sweetie. Shouldn't bring a knife to a fist fight.")

Despite coming from such rough events, you don't mind the scars on his fingers. If anything, they make his hands even more attractive to look at.

"Somethin' wrong with my hand, kiddo?"

Uh oh. Your eyes drift to Toji's face, sharp green eyes leer at you, and a smirk is plastered with a mischievous expression. I got caught!

"No, nothing's wrong with them." You place your phone on the coffee table, and your hands move up to grab hold of Toji's hand resting on his chin. "They're...I just like looking at them."

Toji lifts a brow as he hums, removing his hand from your grasp and placing it on your cheek. A big thumb lays on top of your plump lips. "Is that right, darlin'? Ya like my fingers, yeah?"

You nod sheepishly while turning into putty when his fingers squeeze your cheeks with affectionate warmth. The left hand that once rested on your shoulder snakes down to your chest, and small gasp results from the sudden grasp on your soft mound.

"You want Daddy's fingers, baby?" He asks while massaging your breast, lowering his head to your ear so his gruff voice makes you shudder. You answer him with hooded eyes and a wistful nod, his eyes narrowing slightly at the blissful sight. "Lay down fr' me then."

You follow his instructions as he spreads his legs, your upper body resting on his right thigh while the other stations your ass for him. He whistles before rubbing and kneading your ass, while your breathing becomes irregular when he removes your leggings, revealing your panties.

The position limits your view, so you use your senses to feel his fingers teasing from your spine down to the wet spot on your underwear. Your shivers aren't missed by Toji. He laughs. "Gonna be a good girl and let me use my fingers on ya, right, angel?"

"Yes, Daddy." Toji sneers at the title and slides your panties down, your pretty pussy glistening for him to see. Your breath hitches when you feel his left ring finger nestle between your folds. The thick digit slowly but surely makes its way inside you, and a short squeal leaves you when it's entirely within. "Relax, princess. Bein' so good fr' me right now." The older man coaxes you as your cunt adjusts to the finger, his right hand caressing your cheeks for comfort. He pushes the finger further when your breathing returns to a steady rhythm.

Even with the sound from the television present, Toji only listens to the mewls you let out every time he pushes and pulls his thick digit inside you, rubbing on the walls of your tight slit. He enjoys the view of your bare ass and cunt for him to see and toy with, silently humming to himself when listening to your cries of pleasure.

When he feels as though you've adjusted to his ring finger, his middle finger brushes between the lips of your pussy, prompting you to clench hard on him. He laughs at your reaction, "Easy, sweetheart. I know you can take more of me." Toji sneaks his middle between your wet cunt, and a giant gasp quits your body as your hands grip his grey sweatpants. The soft pants from your open mouth fill the room, only for Toji to insert another pair of fingers into your mouth. "It's okay, cry on these hands you love s' much."

And that's all you could do as you let the man bully your poor pussy, your mouth sucking on his right fingers in your mouth while his left-hand abrade your insides. Thick digits stretch your aroused hole, causing your heart to race and your skin to heat up.

"Mmmm, Mmmph!" Words are muffled, and a scream is prevented when you can feel the digits make a 'come hither' motion. The tips of his fingers scrape your velvety walls, your brain turning fuzzy while tears and drool render your face from the stimulating abuse you're going through.

His fingers slide in and out of your slick-covered pussy faster, and you accidentally bite on the digits in your mouth. But Toji doesn't mind, for he knows he's making you feel so fucking good. "Yer grippin' on me so hard, sweetie." His fingers switch to a slow pace, making sure the pads of his two fingers tantalizingly graze your hypersensitive sex. "Gonna come on Daddy's fingers?"

Finally, Toji frees your mouth. Heavy pants exit your lips pooled with drool, saliva from your mouth coats his right middle and forefinger that retreat to holding your face once more. "Yesss, Daddy. Haaaah, I wanna come on y— Aaahh!! F-fingers..."

How can he deny you when your tearful eyes beg for release? His emerald orbs go dark in hunger, and his grin widens with his teeth emerging from under his scar.

The rough digits in your cunt quicken in reckless haste, forcing out moans to fill the room yet again. The middle and ring fingers assault the gushy walls deep inside your squelching cunt, the noises on par with the thrilled whimpers that exit your mouth.

And Toji uses this to distract you from his forefinger aligning with your clit. When the index finger comes down and swipes around the tender bud, your moans turn into electrified screams, hands gripping the man's leg holding you up. With the erratic pace of the two fingers deeply scraping your pussy, along with the forefinger pressing down on your clitoris, your orgasm hits you with no warning.

You chase out your climax with a euphoric sob, walls fluttering around the fingers responsible for your hips stuttering. After a few moments, your body relaxes onto Toji's legs which keep you still. His right-hand rubs circles on your back.

"Did so good, darlin'." He praises you, and it ends with you blissfully dozing off on his lap.

...Or so you thought.

Because it hasn't been a full minute before he starts moving his fingers in your wet vulva yet again, the abrupt movement pushing out choked cries from your throat. You send Toji a confused look which is answered with his childish smirk.

"Oh, sorry, sweetheart," No, you're not! He's absolutely not. The speed of his fingers getting faster proves it, your sensitive clit getting overstimulated by his forefinger brushing against it. "But don't think I'd let you come just one time. Make a mess on my fingers, baby. Make 'em real dirty like you."

[eddiernunson]

Really Drives Me Mad | EX-bfs dad!Eddie Munson x Reader | 18+

Previous Part | Master List | Next Part

Word Count: 10k

Warnings; degradation/praise, deep throating, eating out, edging

Author's note: Hope you don't mind but I made the reader both a swifitie and team Edward this chapter. I do appreciate all the love I've gotten for this fic. Here's part 3!

-

The general reaction you’ve received over the last two weeks was Are you out of your mind? 

While Bethany heard you out on how it happened and why it felt like a sigh of relief being with Eddie, your mom lost her damn mind. As you spoke to her, you did your best to have a civil conversation until it just ended up being her lecturing you over the speaker while you finished up cleaning the dishes.

When she realizes you haven’t responded in a while and asks if you're still there, you pick up the phone from the window ledge and unmute yourself. “Mom, seems like you’re not interested in what I have to say about this, only about how it looks. Until you’re ready to listen, I’ll let you go.” Your finger hits the red hang up button, noting the time to the call being 45 minutes. You told her the situation about five minutes in and ever since, she had spent her time venting about Eddie and how irresponsible you were, as if she hadn't listened to anything you had to say about it. 

“Are you sure you really thought this through?” Skyler, your roommate asks you as she brings her bowl over to you. 

You huff, grabbing it from her and soaking it in the hot soapy water. “Thought what through?”

“You and him. Long term.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at her. “Who said anything about this being long term? What if it’s just for now?” 

“Is it just for now? Because you went into it with Dylan claiming all you wanted was someone to commit to you.” She pauses, and you look her in the eyes as if to say get on with it. “When you had someone fully committed, someone willing to stay in it for the long haul, you left him.” 

“I didn’t get scared of his commitment, Sky!” You exclaimed, a little thrown off by it. 

“Really? Because you were so eager to introduce him to literally anyone?” Skyler throws at you, and she had a point. Your hesitation in meeting Eddie had everything to do with the fact that Dylan was more committed to your relationship than you were.

You were literally every guy you had hooked up with before Dylan, getting angry that he would act like a boyfriend except for the life long stuff. 

Fuck. What a hypocrite you were. 

“Fine, his commitment scared me a bit.” You admit, washing one last dish before draining the sink. “But it’s not why I left him.”

“For his dad.”

You sigh, eyebrows raised at her tone. “Yes, for his dad.” 

“Have you considered that when you’re his age, he’ll be in his 60s?”

“So?” You ask her, moving to the couch in the living room. 

“That’s not a relationship built to last.”

“Why can’t that be up to us to decide?” You ask her, wrapping the throw blanket around you and tucking yourself into the couch. “Look, I get your concern. I truly do. From the outside, me and Dylan were doing everything right. Having adventures, going Instagram official. Then we were meeting the families, getting comfortable.” You pause, rubbing your hair out of your face. “If I was 19/20, I would completely understand. I mean, I wouldn’t, but if that were the scenario, your concern would make sense. But I’m not. I’m 25. My frontal lobe is fully developed. I know that if I get together with Eddie then he’ll always be 20 years older than me. He’ll always have a different perspective on life than I do.” 

“You’ll always be tied to Dylan.” She points out. 

“We dated for six weeks.” You counter, a pinch appearing between your brows. “While we haven’t discussed our long term goals, I don’t see this being casual. It’s different with him. Nothing feels off about being with him. I’ve never felt safer.”

She pauses, assessing your face and the way you relax as you start talking about Eddie. “Fuck. You’ve never seemed this relaxed when talking about Dylan. Not once.”

“I wasn’t.” 

-

The comfort of Eddie’s chest breathing in and out underneath you as you lie right on top of him on the living room couch was soothing as you watched Twilight together. It took some convincing, but he let you press play on it and smirked over your shoulder at the blue filter.

No one had ever told him that the soundtrack was so good, though. 

It was maybe a half hour into the movie, and Eddie couldn’t figure out why every guy in her school just had to have her. The smile on your face as you settled into a comfort movie was worth the watch, though. 

You had texted him a few days prior, Eddie having given you his number before dropping you off at your apartment to face the real world. He was due back at his shop, having to settle management bullshit and deal with an unhappy customer or two to settle their complaints over the new apprentice. Ownership was nice, when they knew how to do their job. 

When can I see you next? 

When the six words lit up his screen, Eddie wanted to tell you to drive on over to his shop. He wanted to get in his truck and drive over to wherever the hell you are so he could text back Right Now. He knew your words were calculated, something not to seem too desperate to see him next, but truth be told, even if you were desperate it wouldn’t have made any difference; he was already hooked on you. He texted back to tell you the following Saturday, a day he knew he had no plans for the following day, so you could spend the night. 

He felt fucking crazy for thinking it, but now that he'd had you in his bed, it felt too big without you. 

Now here you lay with him, he sat in the corner of his couch while you snuggle up to him, and he could stay like this for hours, the sweet shampoo in his nose and the sound of your breaths comforting. He feels you slowly relax into him, all your body losing its tension. Occasionally, your arm would tighten around his torso or you would dig into him deeper. He appreciates the feeling, rubbing his fingers delicately along your skin.

The front door opens, and he feels you tense up as Dylan makes his way in. “Oh, great.” He mutters, and turns around to head straight up the stairs. 

Your body jerks to watch him, and your eyes catch Eddie’s for a moment. “I’ll be right back.” 

Eddie nods, seeing the fixed line your mouth made. He leans in to kiss you, an act of care more than anything else. You lean into it, your eyes closing automatically, breath hitching. “I’ll be here.”

-

The length up the stairs seemed to grow as you reached the top, this act something you have been dreading for days. Having told Bethany and Skyler about Eddie, they both felt bad for Dylan. In fact, your shitty attempt at an apology was met with a smack on the head with a nearby scrap paper by Sky. You knew Dylan deserved better. Fuck, did you know that. 

Here you stand in front of his door, sounds of a tv show on in the background while he presumably plays on his computer. Dylan was more the type to create joy out of finding a new favourite hiking trail or to take an archery class, but Eddie has said he’s been cooped up in his room. He goes to work, comes home and says barely two words before retreating upstairs. 

Not like you blamed him for it. 

Before you could hesitate any longer, you finally knock on his door. The sounds of his keys stop, and you barely hear the footsteps towards the door over your own heartbeat. The door opens to Dylan, and the disappointment when he sees you is evident, his face hardening. “What?”

“Can I come in?”

He seems to think on this, and you hope the outfit you have chosen, jeans with an oversized sweatshirt and your hair in a messy bun helps with the psychology of it, but when it came down to it, it was his decision. “…Sure.” You light up in surprise, having expected to do the apologizing in his door frame. You follow him in, and it’s an awkward moment of silence before he goes to sit in his desk chair. “Have a seat, I guess.” 

Your butt hits the edge of the bed, barely scraping the box spring. “Would it be cheesy if I recommended you listened to Speak Now, track 3?”

His eyebrows furrow, and it’s so like you to recommend a fucking Taylor song for the scenario. He has to laugh. “Taylor’s Version?”

“Of course.”

“Which is…?”

“Back To December.”

He tilts his head, this situation incredibly peculiar. “Remind me how that goes?”

A smile reaches your face, and you look at your lap sheepishly. 

“She apologizes…and clearly admits she was in the wrong after a person treats her very well and didn’t deserve it.” You pause, looking up at him.

“A little bit.” He admits, but the first wall is down. The look in his eye when he sees you doesn’t scream rage. 

“I can’t express how sorry I am for hurting you the way I did.” You start, watching for his reaction. “First, for stringing you along… But, you were the best looking guy at that mixer, and at that moment in time I truly did want to know you. None of that was fake.” He nods, considering this. “Then it started to feel, I don’t know, comfortable. I had people telling me how lucky I was to have you, daily, and with the men out there, god they were so right.” You gulp, and he can’t seem to look you in the eye. “I felt like there must’ve been something wrong with me not to be head over heels for you, cause there wasn’t anything wrong with you.”

“When did you know you wanted to break up with me?” 

“I can’t say for sure.” You tell him, and it was probably about two weeks ago, but that felt cruel. “But the moment we got back into your car I should’ve ended things.”

“You knew about him that fast, huh?” He asks you, his eyes appearing glossy. “You know, if you would’ve been honest I would have been absolutely choked, confused even, but I would have given you his number.”

You nod, because of fucking course Dylan would’ve been nice enough. “See, you’re so kind because that never occurred to me. I thought you would’ve dropped me off at home.”

“Probably.” Dylan admits, thinking about the possibilities if you’d broken up with him earlier. “Maybe not.”

“I’m so sorry for cheating on you, though. Of course, knowing your mom’s history shouldn’t have made a difference but—”

“Yeah. Kind of fucked me up.” Dylan leans back in his chair, and a smile reaches his face as he looks back to you. 

“I know that if me and Eddie keep dating that I could never, ever even remotely be a parental figure, and frankly I’m not looking to be your mom, but I hope one day you can trust me again.”

“See, how do I know you won’t do the same thing to him?”

It hurt, but it was fair. “You made me feel safe. But your dad—” he cringes, “Eddie, he makes me feel free.” 

Dylan turns around in his chair, considering this. “I believe that.”

“Wait, you do?”

“Yeah. When I walked in today sure, I was annoyed. Seeing my ex girlfriend in a new happy relationship with the person she cheated on me with is kind of annoying. But you were never that comfortable with me. That look of…contentment. I’ve never seen it before.” He sighs, doing another turn in his chair. 

“Have you and your dad spoken about it?”

“No. I’m pretty fucking mad at him. I’ll forgive him, one day. If you’re sticking around, I'll have to, because I’m not staying with my mom and her new perfect family. But we dated for six weeks. I was only starting to think I was falling in love with you. Thank god I never got there. Even then.”

“Don’t put all the blame on him.” You jump to his defense, and wow, did this sound bad. “I made the first move.”

“Good to know.” He pauses. “That’s all I want to know, for the record. No more details… I've heard enough.”

“I am sorry, though Dylan. In another universe, we date and I let you down properly and you meet your dad’s girlfriend a few weeks later who turns out to be your ex.” You laugh, just picturing it. 

“Sounds like a rom com.” 

“Honestly it’s an intriguing concept.” You get up from his bed, the conversation having met its end. 

“I can’t forgive you, yet. But that was the fucking apology I deserved the first time.”

You cringe at it, this memory is something you can already see haunting you at 3am.

“Can we pretend like that one never happened?”

“No. It’s great material to have in a back pocket. Who apologizes to their ex with brand new hickeys on their neck?"

“Okay, point taken!” You yell at him as you walk out the door. 

“Bye.” He calls out, and the door shuts behind you. 

-

You meet Eddie back at the couch, the movie paused while he scrolls through his phone. “What are you scrolling on?” You tease him, sitting easily back where you were before.

“Oh the uh, Facebook videos.” He says off-handedly, and you roll your eyes. “What?”

“Who uses Facebook nowadays?” You joke, knowing full you still updated yours occasionally.

He chuckles, nipping at your shoulder. You grab the remote by his leg, pressing play. “How did it go?”

“Better.” You sigh, watching Bella awkwardly ask him to hang out at the beach. “Much, much better. Doesn’t scream pure hatred in his face every time he looks at me anymore.”

“Makes one of us.” Eddie jokes, and you grab his hand to place a kiss, comforting him. 

The movie continues, and Eddie has never fully paid attention to the movie before, having come out in his late 20s. It was ridiculous, to say the least. The plot thickens as Bella discovers his true nature and Eddie can't help but notice a particular smile creep on your face as Edward mutters something about a lion falling in love with a lamb. Creepy. 

“Do-do you have a crush on Edward?” He asks, his voice particularly bewildered. 

Your eyes bug out, and you bite back the smile breaking out on your face with much failure.

“What? No.”

“Oh, you totally do.” Eddie chuckles, shaking his head. 

“Shut up.”

Another five minutes pass and your stomach rumbles, prompting Eddie to get up and walk to the kitchen to make you something. “Want something with chicken, rice, spice, what do you want, baby?” He calls out, and you now stare openly at the tv as the baseball scene is showing, and you’ve always considered Edward just to be a bit extra hot in this scene. 

His question takes a moment to register. “Butter chicken?” You ask him. 

He peeks his head out to the music on the screen, and immediately sees the look on your face. A big smile is plastered on your face, chin resting on your fingertips as you sit cross legged. Fucking. Teenage Vampires. He rolls his eyes, rejecting the jealousy. He isn't going to be jealous over this. Nope.

He finishes the food, putting a bowl out for you, Dylan, and himself out. “Dylan! Food if you want it!” He calls out, and he brings two of the bowls for you and him, the smell of his cooking more than welcome. “Here baby.” He kisses your forehead, sitting next to you as you take a big inhale. 

“Holy shit, thank you, Ed.” You tell him, and Eddie is perplexed at your ability to forget to eat a single thing until the hunger pains kick in. He supposes his food habits at 25 weren’t the greatest, either. Now that he thinks about it, he pretty much lived off energy drinks, coffee, and the occasional hot food Wayne would force down his throat.

You inhale the food, the empty bowl on the coffee table within minutes. “Want more?” You’re hypnotized by the screen, having barely heard him. Why did he want to fight a seventeen-year-old vampire? “Baby?”

“Hmm?”

“Want more?”

“Oh sure! Thank you.” The shine in your eyes brightens up as you look up at him, and it settles his jealousy. For the most part. 

Eddie scoops himself and you another bowl, seeing Dylan hasn’t grabbed his yet. “Dylan! Food’s getting cold! Come eat!” 

Dylan comes out, actually looking like he was in a better mood than he was before.

“Oh, shit, Twilight?” He comments, shaking his head. “She’s a hard Team Edward girl. Hard.” 

“I’ve noticed. Here.” Eddie would’ve usually taken the win from his son joking with him but the jealousy that sat eating his gut was so fucking annoying. Why the fuck was he so annoyed at this stupid vampire?

“Oh it's not so fun now, is it?” Dylan calls out, running back up the stairs. 

This makes Eddie smile, like things might go back to normal. The screaming match with him after you had left made him believe he truly severed his relationship with him, but this gave him an inch of hope. 

Eddie gives you the second serving and you tear through it again, leaving the bowl in front of you empty. As Eddie finishes his own, he starts to lean into you, placing delicate kisses on the little exposed skin you provided for him today. He moves you so you’re lying on top of him.

The movie is about to end, Bella waking up in a hospital with frankly, an off-putting delivery of the lines she was given. His hands make their way up past the hem of your sweater, reaching to touch some skin as he continues. A pinch makes its way in between your eyebrows down at him. “What’s this about?”

“Nothing. Just wanted to touch you.” You don't believe him, but you also don't mind the touches, as they were certainly doing their job as far as foreplay goes, so you lean back into him. Just when Eddie thought the end was near there’s a whole-ass prom scene and he nearly groans in frustration. Your legs intertwine with his, and he gets a sneaky idea, peering over your shoulder to move his leg over the teensiest bit. 

He moves his leg as if he was lifting one leg to rest on its foot. He moves it a bit faster than necessary, aiming for where your ass sat lower than normal on his body. 

As his knee jerks into your cunt, you gasp, a heat having already gathered from the movie alone, his teasing doing nothing to help. 

“Shit, sorry baby. Was just trying to move my leg.” One look at his face tells you it was a bold-faced lie and you give him an exasperated look. “What?” A series of shots that didn’t make the movie at the end show and Eddie rolls his eyes. “Prick.” He mutters under his breath to an image of Edward on the screen. 

“What was that?” You ask him, unsure you even heard him right. “Eddie, were you jealous?” You ask incredulously, the very idea of it is just bizarre. 

“What? No!” Eddie dismisses it far too quickly, but the satisfaction as he turns the tv off is too much to deny. 

“Eddie! He’s a fictional character. You do realize you share the same name, right?” Eddie rolls his eyes, slightly ticked off he let himself get caught being jealous. You crawl up to his face, the knee against your cunt having left a throb of more want. “Besides, there’s nothing to be jealous of.” You lean in to kiss him, still lying on top of him. As you tilt your head to deepen it, Eddie feels weak as your tongue meets his own and the way you’re gasping into his open mouth is filthy. “Nothing.” You emphasize, biting on his bottom lip. 

Eddie bites back a moan, his eyes rolling back as your teeth linger. You frame his face, kissing along the path of his stubble, his gorgeous jaw line, his freckled neck, the dip of his collarbone. 

You pause, taking a quick pause to suck on the collarbone lightly, biting into it to make one little claim of your own. You sit back on it, admiring the way it's already started to bruise. You continue, your hand absentmindedly moving his shirt up his torso so you could kiss your way down. You lick across a nipple, and his chest stunts in response. Down his torso you go until you meet the treasure of all treasure trails. You pause, inhaling at the scent, and the musk intoxicates you so much that you can’t help yourself, licking at it. Fuck. 

Finally, you get to his jean waistband, and you tug twice, making sure it's okay. Eddie moves to unbutton it for you, and you swat him away. “I wanna do it.” You tell him, picking up where he left off. You tug the jeans off, your fingers hooked meticulously so his boxers come off with them. 

His cock springs free and you look up to his face. By now Eddie has lost all clear thought, and he’s sure it started the moment you started working on his collarbone. Somehow it just got better and better as you went further down, every touch of your tongue against his skin sending fucking waves through him. But the look of…elation that you give him as you free his cock, like you couldn’t believe you get to be so lucky to suck on it, had him in pure ecstasy. 

You leaned in to take a long swipe on it, a slow lick from the base to the tip, and his cock is nearly down your throat before he could even register it. Relentlessly, you bob your head, fist gripping what you can't fit. You hear him swear loudly, and you let go with a popping sound. His hand finds its way to your face, framing it. You peer up at him, and his half opened eyes and a disbelieving smile gives you an unmatched sense of pride. 

“Holy shit.” He mutters, his thumb crossing your bottom lip slowly. 

You smile, lifting his hand from your face and into your hair, curling your fist over his so he would grip it tightly. You go back to work, mouth watering as you continue to bob up and down. Eddie slowly starts pushing on your head, forcing you to take a little bit more of him at a time. Your gag reflex fights it, and he can feel it. 

“Relax your throat baby.” He whispers. “Just relax it.” You think about it, letting the tense muscles of your jaw and attempting to swallow the spit to soften. He can feel a shift, his cock still in the heat of your mouth. “Oh, good girl.” 

He thrusts his hips up, and his cock finds itself down your throat, a feat you’ve never been able to accomplish before. The base of his cock meets your nose, and he stops, watching you adjust as tears come to your eyes from the stinging. “Holy shit, good fucking girl.” He mumbles, sweeping his hand through your hair. “So good.”

He pulls on your scalp so you move up and back down a few times, and you find it impossibly easy to submit yourself to him, allowing him to fuck your throat.

Eddie guides you off his cock, you look up at him for his appraisal and he frames your face to wonder how he was so lucky as he looks at your cocked-out eyes. “Oh, what a good little slut.” He mutters, pulling you up to his face. 

You crawl up eagerly, and he kisses you gently, not chaste, but not quite as dirty as before. He breaks away, still connecting your foreheads. “Let’s go upstairs, yeah?”

You nod readily; lust filled eyes staring back into his. You wait patiently for him to put his jeans back over on his cock and make your way back up the stairs to his room. 

As soon as his door is shut Eddie rids himself of his clothes, and you end up watching from his bed eagerly, enjoying the show. He dives onto the bed, and a squeal of giggles involuntarily leaves your throat at the wild eyes captivating his face. He dives down to kiss you, his tongue delicious against your own and he sucks on it, luring a whimper right out of you. One of his hands rubs against your thigh, and this pair of pants wasn’t something he could feel you up through. Eddie’s thumb messaged extra rough, and the touch alone manages more whimpers. 

“Touch me.” You choke out, breathing heavily, breathing him. “Please.”

Eddie grins, both his hands working down to unbutton the tight jeans you wore. A hand slips in and starts to tease along the slick of your folds and your breath hitches as Eddie focuses on making you feel good. He rubs them in small circles, the touch light but enough to give you release. You can tell he isn't necessarily driving you towards an orgasm and it drives a laugh of impatience out of you against his lips. 

“Baby” You whine, “Fuck.” You couldn’t even put words to it, because somehow you knew he’d find a way to twist it. 

Eddie leans into your neck, the heat of his cruel laughter closing your eyes. “Oh, you wanted me to touch you and get off? Well why didn’t you say so?” 

The pressure increases, a defined difference in his touch as he rubs against your clit, and the sounds he draws from you was worth the tease. He hikes your oversized sweater up, revealing skin and your bra, and as his fingers move absentmindedly he kisses your stomach with light tongue, the wet warmth sending shivers up your body as the feeling in your tummy starts to pool. 

He sits up suddenly, and you whimper from the loss. He chuckles at this, pride in how pathetic he can make you feel. “Aww, poor baby.” He mocks you, and your eyebrows furrow in slight embarrassment. “It’s okay, I know you just wanna cum…gonna get you to cum all over my face.” His hands tug on your jeans, and he barely needs any help from you to yank them off, unceremoniously throwing them onto the floor. “Oh, fuck, finally.” He mutters as he sees your pussy, prettier than he remembered when he jacked himself off in the shower this morning. 

He leans in, sucking on your clit and the heat expands from it into your legs and the feeling in your stomach doubles. From no release to every bit, you could already feel the knot threatening to snap. “Holy shit, fuck.” You mutter, your thighs clamping against him. 

He feels the intensity in your body shift, continuing to suck on your clit rhythmically. Your breathing increases, and Eddie slowly sucks harder, and harder, and as your heels dig in his upper back, he stops. 

An audible whine leaves you, the edge just right there. “Fuck, Ed.” You whimper, somehow knowing it was on purpose. 

He chuckles, watching your beautiful cunt react as well. “I know, baby, I know.” 

“I was so close.” 

“Imagine how good it’ll feel when you do cum, yeah?” He teases, still watching your face. Your leg muscles spasm and the kisses he trails down your thigh are no help. 

You whine again, toes curling and the extra fabric of your sweater self consciously curls up around your fists. “Ed.”

“I know.” He says one last time, and goes in for the kill. 

There was really no delay this time, the edge was only a step away and he pushed you over, his fingers fucking into you and tongue working over time on your clit, a heat into an explosion as your legs shake and pussy spasms. Eddie pays close attention to it, admiring the glisten of your slick coating you, dripping to your ass and on his sheets and it's a piece of art. 

Eddie kisses one last time against your clit, crawling back up to you to assess. “Sweetheart?”

You smile lazily at him, the orgasm having left a smile on your face and a glow amongst your features. “Hmm?”

“Wanna fuck still?” He asks, his hand petting your face softly. 

Your eyes fucking light up, nodding enthusiastically. He chuckles, moving the sweater slowly up and over your head. He moves around your torso, single handedly unhooking your bra, revealing those gorgeous tits. 

He looks like heaven above you, a shadow of stubble, brown eyes darkened as he takes you in, and the lust in his eyes sends a pool of wetness between your legs. Your legs open, and he sits himself between them, kissing the nearest skin he can as he puts his cock into you. 

Your legs close on the feeling, mouth falling open in a silent moan. God, what a sight. 

You sleepily look up at him as he puts his chest on yours, just drinking in the moment of him in you. He does the same, your hands framing his face.

He kisses you, slow and sweet. “So, so, good, Ed.” You manage out between them, sighing up at him. 

He moves back a bit, thrusting into you lightly and you whimper into his mouth. He separates himself to get a good look as he continually fucks into you, and your mouth is open in unspoken words. Too fucking good. 

“I know baby, I know.” He tells you. He kisses your neck, down your throat and down to a tit bouncing lightly from the impact of his cock fucking into you. He latches his tongue onto the nipple, your pussy tightening around him in response. He grazes his teeth lightly, mewls leaving your throat at the sheer pleasure mixed with pain and he lets go. 

He leans up from you, taking one of your legs and placing it against his shoulder up towards the ceiling and you can feel him deeper, his thrusts starting to hit harder. Your moans are interrupted by each thrust. “Ed. So. Good. Fuck.”

His hand gently caresses your leg on his shoulder, focusing on the warmth of your pussy engulfing him. “Oh, tight pussy. So fuckable.” 

“Yours.” You whine out. 

“Oh, that’s right. My pussy.”

“All yours.” You choke out. 

“Oh that’s fuckin right. You’re mine. All mine. My good fuckable slut.”

The words hit the right spot, making your eyes roll back. “Fuck, Ed. Cum in me.”

“Yeah, wanna be filled with me?"

“Mmhmm…” 

“Oh fuck.” Eddie reaches his high faster than he was expecting, his hips jerking into you and the feeling of his cock pulsating while it spurts inside you is everything. 

Eddie pants, lightly pushing your leg off his chest. He leans forward to give you a kiss, his body covered in sweat, the slick smell being something you need to memorize. “Holy shit, sweetheart."

You giggle, your legs holding him there. “Stay a while?”

“Love to cockwarm, huh, baby?” 

“Only with you,” You mutter, a yawn leaving you. And if it was anything like the first time, you’ll be asleep within minutes. “So full.” 

He chuckles, turning on the tv next to his bed. He tugs the blanket out from under you and pulls it over the two of you. You snuggle into his arms as he wraps them around you. “You know, we can cuddle without—” Eddie starts.

“No, no. That’s crazy talk.” You interrupt him, and he feels a smile up against his chest.

As you fall asleep, you hear one last thing from him, something you don’t think you were supposed to hear. “Beat that, you sparkly fucker.”

Somehow, the power of making Eddie jealous over a fictional vampire didn’t go straight to your head, but goddamn it felt good to be this wanted. 

-

The tickle of the sheet against your abdomen comes to mind as you wake up on your side, calf in between Eddie’s legs and your face buried in his chest. His snoring is gentle but deep, his arm lazily wrapped around you. You figure he eventually got himself out of you, the subtle loss something you probably whined at. 

You feel a smile creep its way onto your face, the satisfaction of waking up how you did fills your lungs with air. You peer your head back to get a look at his face, relaxed and unguarded, even from sex. Your eyes take in every detail of his handsome face, the slight hook of his nose, the stray hairs by his left eyebrow, the freckles scattered… God, he is beautiful. 

You lean in to kiss his jawline, nuzzling your nose into the scratch of his stubble. The arm around your torso flexes, a snore interrupted. A huff of laughter escapes you, the simplicity of it just so mesmerizing. He shifts slightly, arm tightening around you as he adjusts himself. You cuddle yourself closer into his chest, inhaling the scent that was unmistakably him. No cologne, deodorant or aftershave disguising it. The smell alone makes you shudder in happiness. 

You lay breathing him in for another thirty minutes before he finally stirs awake.

When he finally does, eyes squinting around as he blinks awake, arms flexing away as he yawns and stretches, you lay there patiently as he gets his bearings.

“Fuck.” His arms go limp, and he buries himself into your hair, breathing in the scent. “How long—” he yawns, cutting himself off. “How long have you been awake?”

Your shoulders shrug, and he huffs out a breath of laughter. He feels your stomach grumble against his. “Long enough, huh.” He kisses into your hair, giving you one last good squeeze. “Alright, let’s go get some food.”

You protest getting out of bed with him but the second growl your stomach makes, this one even more audible, has Eddie give a look to say it wasn’t debatable. Food first.

Down the stairs, you sit in a pair of shorts with the same over sized sweater at the kitchen island, chewing happily on the food Eddie prepared for you, a fucking snack tray. He put it in front of you, and you look up at him with an eyebrow raised peculiarly. “I fucking love snacks.” He says, grabbing a slice of cheese off your tray.

Dylan jogs into the kitchen, stealing a cracker off your plate as he dashes around the counter. “Going out with friends, be back later.” He looks dressed up for a bar, an outfit you knew he would wear to impress. It's a weird thought that you know him like this. 

“Don’t be stupid, don’t drink and drive.” Eddie tells him, leaning forward on the island. 

“Got it!” 

“Was that good or bad, I couldn’t tell.” You ask him when the front door closes. 

“I wouldn’t go towards either. He’s being civil for the sake of you but he’s much more pissed when you’re not here. Trust me.” Eddie answers you, eyes wide at the end of the sentence.

A pang of guilt hits you square in the chest. He sees your expression falter, giving you a soft look. “Don’t feel guilty. I deserve it. He damn well has a right to act this way when I betrayed him.”

Fuck, that was a level of emotional maturity you weren’t used to seeing in men. Threw you for a loop. 

“So, sweetheart. I got a question for you.” You perk up, leaning towards him at the opposite end of the island counter. “Will you allow me to take you out on a proper date?”

The sentence drives your heart wild, your stomach turning itself inside out. You nod your head rapidly, gulping. “When?”

“Well it’s four o’clock now…if I drive you home so you can get ready we could probably make our 7 o’clock reservation.”

-

Now you find yourself in your bathroom, your makeup scattered across the counter as you dance to an upbeat playlist, your quick glance to the clock indicating you still have an hour before he comes to pick you up at 6:45. 

You're driving yourself mad with the want to outdo yourself, you want a visual reaction from this man. He was kind enough to let you know it was more upscale, but that was all the detail he was willing to provide to you. You knew your initial reaction to wear something to rile him up wasn’t any good, and the warning he had given you had driven you to believe he knew you well enough to know you would if he hadn’t.

You hear the front door of the apartment close, Skyler getting home from day working at a cellphone carrier store. She hated the dumb customers but loved the commission she made when she sold plans. She places her things down, making her way straight to the bathroom to where the blaring music could be heard. “Going out somewhere?” She asks, slightly yelling to be heard over the music. 

You reach to the Bluetooth speaker, turning down the volume a few notches. “Hot date with Eddie!” You tell her excitedly, leaning in to finish the last of the eyeliner. 

“Oh, I didn’t know you had one planned!”

“Neither did I! He told me about the reservation just like an hour ago after he dropped me off.”

“Just like that?” She asks, leaning in. 

You pause the movement of your brush on your face, using some setting powder for a final touch. “Just like that.” 

Her eyebrows raised to her forehead quickly. “Okay, damn. That’s…that’s romantic.”

A smile lands on your face, and you close it to prevent the wider smile making its way to prevent teasing. “Mmmhmm.” 

Face setting spray finishes your face before you run to your room to do the most daunting thing about getting ready…picking out your outfit. 

It has to be something your ex hasn't taken off you either. There goes that hot blue little dress, and this green strappy number, and that really cute skirt…damn this might be harder than you thought. You used a lot of secret weapons from your arsenal with Dylan. 

“I’m out of clothes!” You yell to your roommate, frustrated out of your mind. 

“You still haven’t used that pretty dress you bought last month…the one still with a tag on it?” She calls out, referring to a dress you found that fit you perfectly but didn’t have anything to wear it for.

“That one is for special occasions!”

“Bitch, your boyfriend made spontaneous dinner date plans for your first date. It’s a special occasion, wear the damn dress!”

As it cascades down your body as you place it over your head, it couldn’t have been more perfect. 

-

Sitting in your living room while waiting to be picked up should not be this jittery, butterflies doing a little dancey-dance in your stomach as Skyler absentmindedly binge-watches Buffy. You sent Eddie your address at his request about ten minutes ago, and now it's just a waiting game. 

Three knocks at the door find you standing in a second, tripping over your own feet to get to the door. You open it to him, standing there with a single red rose. He's dressed in a gorgeous leather outdoor jacket, one only a man as fine as he is could pull off as well as he does and still make it look classy. He wears a pair of slacks with a dark red button down tucked loosely into it, the first three buttons undone. 

Something tells you he’ll be moving his sleeves up his arms later. Fuck. He has never looked hotter. 

“Hi, gorgeous. Ready?”

You nodded frantically, picking the open jacket up from the coatrack you had placed conveniently by the door. You turn back to face to your roommate to tell her not to wait up and face her, her mouth wide open. “I see it now.” She whispers, her jaw dropping again. 

Your eyebrows raise to her in response but a glare reaches as your face as you turn around, something in you stupidly angry about this. Good. Look from afar. 

-

The drive down is filled to the brim with unbridled anticipation, neither one saying much as you watch the pretty lights pass by on the way to the unspecified restaurant. 

He places his hand on your thigh, thumb caressing it gently. Your dress is just long enough for his pinky to touch your leg but the rest lay on the soft material. “You look gorgeous, by the way.” He compliments you, and you suddenly realize he’s barely watching the road. 

“Hmm.” You answer, nodding at the road. “My heart stopped when I opened the door, you are unfairly handsome.”

“Unfairly?” Eddie asks, voice incredulous at your word choice. 

“Mmhmm.” 

He chuckles, suddenly making a left turn into a group of scattered restaurants and your breath hitches, wondering, no. 

Holy fuck, it is. 

He pulls up and you’re peering up at what is known as the most expensive restaurant in town, the kind of place you only went with when your parents were celebrating an anniversary or something and were paying.

The kind of place that had good ass food, but you need to be able to pay minimum, 100 per person. The wine is automatically served, and the only music is a light piano melody. “Wanted to take you out for a treat. Somewhere I know damn well men your age can’t afford.”

That sentence alone drenches the lacy panties you wore. 

He walks to your side after getting out, opening the door for you. The act isn’t much, something a man or two has done before him, but from him, it was like a goddamn touch of Midas. 

The low light and piano music engulfs you, the conversation low as you see everyone is dressed in their best. You find yourself intimidated but Eddie walks in like he belongs. 

Cause he does. 

He asks for a reservation under his last name, and the waitress finds it right away. You can’t help but notice the way her eyes light up and damn, you usually don’t describe yourself as the jealous type but when it comes to him it's hard not to be. 

As you get to your booth, Eddie takes off his jacket, revealing his sleeves up to his elbows, and it’s literally mouth watering. He does it so swiftly, and before you can even sit, he holds his hand out for your jacket as well. You take it off to hand it over, which he hangs ever so gently over his jacket on the hook. 

Your hostess asks for drinks, Eddie asks for the drink menu and some water, you ask for water as well, hoping to find a suitable cocktail when the menu comes along. 

The low lighting is flattering on him sitting across from you, and all his attention is on you, even as his eyes roam the menu. The conversation flows effortlessly, and you finally ask Eddie for his story, something even through the lust you’ve had a desire to know. 

He describes growing up in Hawkins, Indiana, a rebel without a cause with a touch for the dramatics and running a role play DnD group. He describes his struggles as he failed grade twelve twice due to a large population chalking it up to laziness when in reality no one listened to his inability to sit down long enough to learn anything. He tells you about this group of friends he made in his final and successful attempt at grade 12, the ones that eventually kicked his ass into gear and none of them he would’ve been here without, and though they were all older like him, you hoped one day you’d be lucky enough to meet them face-to-face. 

His attempt at college, realizing it wasn’t for him and dropping out a semester in when a local mechanic he knew offered an apprenticeship spot at his garage.

2 years into it, he finds out he enjoys it and he made enough money to move out. At 22 he meets a woman who comes into his shop with a check engine light on, and that was how he met Dylan's mom. You fought so hard not to roll your eyes as he described building a life with her and finding out she was pregnant, but it was hard not to be jealous. 

Apparently she was the perfect mom from the outside, her connection to her son was unbeatable. Eddie soon found out she was having an affair with one of her co-workers, the same one she had told him time and time again that, no, of course he didn’t have a crush on her, that’s silly. 

(They were fucking the whole time.)

If anything, it was the reason he had let Dylan find out so quickly. An affair would’ve made it ten times worse. 

He finishes off, describing how difficult it was to raise him after she ran off with the co-worker, eventually finding something that worked for them. All in all, he was proud of the person he had raised Dylan to become, hopeful for their relationship. 

You hung onto every word he told you through that meal like he had hung the moon and the stars. As he finishes, wiping his hands on his napkin as he ate, your eyes fixated on his forearms flexing, he apologizes, claiming he felt bad for talking the whole time.

“Oh, I could listen to you for hours.” It falls out of your mouth before you could stop it.

“Well I’m sick of myself. Tell me about you.” He comments, so you did. 

You tell him about being raised in the small town in rural America, being a teenager in the 2010s a slight difference than in the late 90s. Your stupid first boyfriend who dumped you as soon as he slept with you, your mom who meant well but often valued the opinions of others over her daughters needs and wants, your stoner of a best friend who had an opinion that you valued most of all, and how you met your current roommate through a facebook ad but it turned out you really clicked. 

Your story had no beginning and no end, just going off your life based on what you felt like you had wanted to tell him. 

“Dylan is a good boyfriend, by the way.” Eddie laughed at the absurdity of your sentence, all plates in front of you containing any food long gone while you had your third cocktail and Eddie drank some whiskey. Were you a bit tipsy? Yes. That sentence couldn’t have left your mouth without it. “After the lack of commitment on a stupid amount of dudes, his willingness to go all in, as we said that’s what we had both wanted, was exceedingly refreshing.” You took another gulp of it, the sugary drink hitting nicely. “He was stable, kind, thoughtful, but something was missing. In him I felt safety.” You pause, looking at him. “In you, I feel freedom.” 

The conversation moved away from Dylan, thank God. As he asks for one more before the bill you can't help yourself. “Where do you see this going?” You gulp, scratching your nose, and paying close attention to your glass. “If you say anything other than long term, I might be sick.”

To Eddie, your level of honesty was refreshing. “Baby, anything but long-term has never been an option to me.”

Eddie gives his credit card to the waitress, a moon eyed girl who he had barely paid attention to. Either because he was being courteous with his attention or he just didn’t bother when you were right in front of him, it didn’t matter, but the thing itself gave you immense satisfaction. (It was the latter, for the record. Eddie had barely noticed her.)

As he helped you back into your jacket, slipping on his own, a feeling of intense satisfaction, pure bliss invaded your entire system. There was no first date that would ever be as good as this one. The set up, picking you up, the nice ass restaurant, the easy conversation, and lastly, the knowledge that when you got to his, he would be all over you, and you him. 

Nothing was ever gonna be this good. 

Good. You didn’t want anyone or anything but him. 

-

Your head found his shoulder on the way back to his place, hands intertwined on your lap on the silent ride home, soft rock playing on his radio. As his truck reaches his driveway, you notice it's empty. Eddie picked up on this as your head perks up upon the observation. 

“Asked if he could crash at a friend’s place tonight.” Eddie explains, having placed the truck in park, sitting back in his seat. “We got the place to ourselves.” 

You grinned giddily, and you weren’t sure if it was the three and a half drinks or the troublesome feeling of your lacy panties being thoroughly soaked, but you were out his truck door before he could even register it. He climbs out, quickly shuffling behind you and he makes a giggle pour out of you as he scares you as you wait patiently at the door for him to unlock it. 

He kisses your neck as he reaches in with one hand to unlock the door, and you open it and turn to him, yanking on the collar of his leather jacket. “Need you.” You mutter in between kisses, only in the entrance of the house but if you took another step without kissing him, you were gonna lose your mind. “Want. You.” 

Your need is outrageously attractive, Eddie leaning into every kiss you've given him with the same amount of fervor, his hands holding your waist and fisting at the deliciously beautiful dress you had worn. You just had this dress? Waiting around? And you hadn’t blessed anyone with the perfect sight that was you dressed in it until now? What a goddamn sin.

It’ll be a shame when it hits the floor but this dress is only second to how goddamn good you looked naked as far as Eddie's concerned. Speaking of which…

Eddie continually kisses you, pulling you in against him, your breath hitches pulling your coat off and letting it fall to the floor. He backs you up to the stairs, and your foot hits the first step up, and as you’re starting to climb backwards Eddie pushes his body on yours, forcing you to sit. He takes it a step further by leaning in to kiss your neck, and your back falls onto the steps as well, just like he was hoping. Your legs open, welcoming his hips into yours. 

Eddie only starts with soft kisses, just to smell your perfume and to feel your skin beneath his lips. “This dress, baby, this dress.” He pauses, a look of lust deep within his brown eyes. “Oh, fuck, this dress.” He couldn’t seem to tell you anything else, but you were thankful the gut feeling that told you to buy it was right. You tug on his collar, pulling it down his back to take it off.

Eddie assists you, letting the jacket fall clumsily down the three steps.

“My dress? This shirt!” You gasp, gripping onto it softly. “You look so good. The buttons undone on the top were..” You sigh as he kisses his way down to your shoulder. “…a nice touch.”

His hand pushes up your dress, hands roughly smoothing up your thigh, and one gets to the lacey panties. As his hand brushes the panties to take them off he gives you a manic smile. He takes them off, slowly, head against your shoulder as he does so. As the pair is taken off your foot, he inhales sharply at the sight of them, holding them in front of your body where he can see them. You see his hands touch where you soaked it all night, playing with the slick that has already gathered. “You’re not getting these back.”

He tosses them back playfully, going back to attack your neck. Eventually he leaves kisses all down your torso, and he kisses down your clothed thigh before making a big show of lifting the dress hem up, kissing along your thigh again. Only this time, your thigh wasn’t covered, and it was towards your now uncovered and absolutely throbbing cunt. As he moves closer, you start to whine, as with each kiss he adds more wetness, more tongue. Finally his mouth is right next to your core, and with his head in your skirt, he reaches for each leg to put them on his shoulders. 

He goes straight in, tongue attacking your clit, your still covered feet dig into his back and a choked out moan leaves your throat. Eddie’s lips leave your pussy, his shining eyes in your sight as he popped his head from underneath your dress. “Be loud, show me how much you love my tongue all over your pussy. C’mon. Wanna hear you. If I catch you holding back again you’ll be sorry.” He leans in without another thought, and his tongue takes no time to continue. 

“Oh, fuck!” You felt slightly embarrassed by it, but you were more worried about what he meant at the end there, by you’ll be sorry. If he edged you just for the hell of it, what was he gonna do as a punishment? “Your tongue, feels so fucking good, Ed.”

“Tastes—” he mutters, mostly to himself. “Tastes like heaven. Love your sweet, perfect, beautiful pussy.” The acoustics of talking through your dress didn’t make sense, but you could hear him loud and clear. “Look how wet this pussy is already for me, just dripping, oh fuck.”

“Fuck, you look, fuck, so good Ed. So fucking hot.” 

“You were wet from my appearance alone?” Eddie asks, peering up at you from behind your dress.

“Since the first time I met you.” You gasp out, leaning onto your elbows on the step but finding your head heavy on your neck to look up at him.

“Jesus christ.” You smiled down at him, hand reaching forward for him. He interlocks his with yours and keeps it there as he dives back in your dress. Something feels different…the heat concentrates on your clit as he feverishly attacks it. 

“Holy shit--!” You cry out, jerking your upper body forward. “Ed, holy fuck keep doing that.” His other hand joins him, hooking into you and immediately connecting with your g-spot. As you get closer, he can feel your hand tighten on his own as your moans lose all inhibition and you whine, all high pitched, the sound echoing beautifully in the empty house. “Ed, fuck—” Your orgasm snuck up on you, the heat expanding through your thighs and legs until the edge hits you in a silent scream, and you gush all over his face and your dress and the stairs. 

Thank god Eddie had hardwood. 

He comes out from your dress, and you look at him in disbelief. “What—” you start, still unraveling. “I don’t even—” 

“C’mon.” He mutters, kissing your forehead. You follow him up to his room, knees already weak but moving anyway. 

Your bodies collide with one another, lips mashing in hot, dirty kisses. “Need to fuck you now.” Eddie breathes, his hands working at the zipper on your back. The dress drops to reveal what he already knew, and that it was you weren't wearing a bra. “Perfect fucking tits, fuck.”

He tugs at his belt and untucks his pants, making him look like a horny teenager. Maybe not horny, just a few drinks in. But when he had what he called the hottest girlfriend, he felt like anyone could hardly blame him. His pants fly off and he undoes the last few buttons on his shirt before he yanks it off by the back. 

When he’s finally undressed, he pauses as he gets a good look at you, the both of you ridiculously exposed. “Fuck. Am I so goddamn lucky I get to spend my night with you?”

“Just kiss me.” You tell him, reaching out for him and he lurches forward, wrapping his hands in your hair and taking your lips in a wet kiss. He leads you to his bed, taking step by step as you fall backwards onto it, and none of it is awkward, just perfect. He crawls on top as your leg makes its way around his hips, and he can’t even bother to tease you because if he doesn’t get his cock inside you he is gonna lose it. 

You didn’t expect it so soon, usually getting a tease but the shock pulls out a loud moan from you, Eddie moaning at the same time as he pushes himself into you. He puts his forehead against yours, eyes closed. Yours are too, taking in the feeling of his cock inside you. No matter how many times, it's like you forgot how fucking good it felt, every time. 

“God. I didn’t know a pussy could feel this…fuck.” He mutters as his words make you tighten around him. “Fucking intoxicating.” He leans in to nip lightly against your neck, whispering into your skin. “Can’t fucking get enough of it. And when I—” he lips his hips out of yours, fucking into you slowly, “—fuck you, there’s nothing fucking better.” 

His hips continue, his head remaining in your neck, his body against yours as he just feels you against him. Your hands roam the muscles of his back, nails digging in as his hips gradually fuck you harder. “You always take my cock so goddamn well, baby. Such a good whore for me.” 

You whimper; all coherent thought gone as the feeling of him is pure perfection. 

“Fucking love your cock in me Ed! Fuck, just like- just like that.” 

“Oh, I know you love my cock. You moan like a whore for it. Let me hear you baby.” 

The whines you didn’t realize you were holding back came out of your mouth and he grabbed your hair harshly, and you let out a higher one. “Don’t hold back, remember?”

You nod your head, a restricted move because of his hold on you. Eddie lets go, his hand framing your face delicately. He leans in to kiss you, fierce and protective. “God, you’re so much more…more than I had ever wanted…ever hoped for…” his voice is softer now, whispering into your neck. 

“Ed. You’re so good…to me. So lucky.” 

He places a hand on your clit, rubbing gently at it. “Fuck, baby I’m gonna cum. Cum with me?”

“What am I gonna say, no? To that?” you gasp out. He chuckles softly, the laughter hot against your neck. 

“Close.” You tell him and he picks up the pace, holding back a bit for you. “Eddie I—” and a full moan leaves your lips and as you tighten around him, his hips rutting into you. 

Eddie moans loudly as he cums, a sound you wouldn’t blame angels for if they had used at the gates of heaven. 

His weight is heavy on you, having collapsed. He kisses whatever skin he can reach, your shoulder, collarbone, jawline, corner of your mouth before wrapping your lips in a kiss you can only describe as breathtakingly romantic. 

Fuck were you falling, falling hard. And as Eddie lay on top of you for a solid ten minutes, caressing your skin and kissing you softly, still inside you while basking in the afterglow, he is thinking the exact same thing.

Also that he needs to clean the stairs before Dylan gets home. 

-

Thank you so much for reading! I love to read comments and replies and tags and as always reblogging is the best way to support fic writers on tumblr

Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinncore @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you

Those who requested for this fic: @yunnie-f1 @hollster88 @corrodedcoffincumslut @daisyridleyyyy @daniellabrandt @lail1010 @alicentswife @names-were-taken

[grimalkinmessor]

reimob, fluff, and feathers 🩷🩷

WING FIC TIME!!!!!! (⁠ﾉ⁠◕⁠ヮ⁠◕⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠*⁠.⁠✧

Reimob/Fluff/Feathers

———

"Sit still, Mob."

Shigeo stilled in his squirming, chastised but not embarrassed—not anymore. The way his wings fluttered around his shishou's fingers had once made him red in the face, mortified by the obvious pleasure he took from Reigen's fingers sifting through his feathers.

Now, they'd both been at this too long to feel ashamed about it.

Reigen huffed when Shigeo's wings shivered again, stopping his preening to swat Shigeo upside the head. "Still, I said! You keep jostling everything back out of place."

He sat behind Shigeo on the back of the couch, shoes off so his socked feet could rest on the seat cushion, bracketing Shigeo's hips. Reigen's deft hands carded through inky feathers and plucked and straightened and smoothed down anything out of place, occasionally dropping a few feathers in the small pile on the arm of the couch. Shigeo was getting big enough that soon the couch wouldn't be a good place for this, the tips of his primaries brushing against the edges of the seat even without being fully extended.

He wondered if Reigen would stop preening him, then. He hoped he wouldn't.

Reigen had been preening him for years at this point—ever since he was twelve, his newly grown feathers replacing old baby fuzz and making him so uncomfortable he couldn't keep it hidden. His parents preened him, of course; it was typically a family activity, shining up someone's wings before they left the house. Like helping a child brush their hair until they could do it themselves, and even then still sometimes after, just to keep close. To bond.

But by the time Shigeo had first stepped timidly into Reigen's office, his parents had all but ceased to preen his wings. His mother'd had to take double shifts at work to cover Ritsu's hospital bills, while his father had been playing diplomat to the angry parents of the other, older boys Shigeo had cracked against the pavement. Neither of them had time to do more than a few cursory cards over Shigeo's wings before ushering him out the door to school.

And Ritsu...

Ritsu had been another matter entirely.

Almost a year had passed like that, until the fullness of Shigeo's wings and they're subsequent twitchiness had caught his shishou's attention. When Reigen had offered, Shigeo hadn't had the will nor the want to say no.

Reigen's hands always felt like heaven in his feathers, quick but not painful, firm but not rough, gentle but not ticklish. He shines up the back of Shigeo's wings with an exactness that no one else could match.

"Shishou is too good with his hands," Shigeo said in faux-complaint, eyes closing.

A beat, blink-and-you'll-miss-it pause. Then Reigen was humming in amusement, seemingly unphased by the comment. "Get one of your little school friends to help you, then."

Shigeo frowned, almost a pout. "...My friends are too bad with their hands."

Reigen barked out a laugh, his hands resuming their work once more. "What's that supposed to mean, huh? Kids are supposed to be bad at this, you know. Practicing on each other is how you learn."

"I'm not saying they have to be great at it," Shigeo grumbled, slitting his eyes open to peer at the floor. "But I don't really want to be their test dummy either."

"It's good experience, Mob," Reigen dismissed, scraping his fingers down the seam of Shigeo's wing where it met the skin of his back, sending shivers racing up his spine. His wings gave another flutter, and Reigen huffed. "Still."

Shigeo obeyed, forcibly quieting his overexcited wings and bringing that old conversation to an end. Anything to keep Reigen's hands on him.

He closed his eyes again. "I like it when you do it."

Reigen didn't pause this time, but he also didn't respond to Shigeo's admission either.

Shigeo felt a bit miffed. Not wanting to let Reigen worm his way out of it, he asked, "Do you like it, Reigen-shishou?"

"...Yes," Reigen said after a moment. "I like preening you, Mob."

Head tipping back, Shigeo said, "I meant when I preen you, Shishou. Do you like it when I preen you?"

Reigen stared at him, eyes widened—deer in the headlights.

His own wings were tucked against his back, closed, as they usually were in public, the ends of them hooked down behind the back of the couch where Shigeo couldn't see. He knew that Reigen wasn't ashamed of his wings—they were beautiful, a lovely shade of tawny that almost looked gold in the right light—but Reigen also had very little people in his life that he was close to. Reigen was used to hiding his wings away because, for a long time, he'd had no one to help him preen them, so they always looked a bit messy, no matter how much he tried to do it himself.

Shigeo had asked to reciprocate after their first encounter with Claw, when Reigen had instinctively flashed open his wings to shield them both.

"When things go South, it's okay to run away!"

Moonlight haloed behind him, his expression open and earnest, his wings spread open and curled around them...

That had been the first time that he'd ever thought, 'Oh. Shishou is beautiful.'

The first, but certainly not the last. He was beautiful now, caught off-guard and striped with evening sun coming in from the blinds. He might even be remembering the first time that Shigeo had preened him, after that very same encounter. Sat in the office, Hanazawa gone home, Ritsu asleep on the couch as Reigen called their parents to let them know where they were, coming up with another another another lie to keep them from worrying. Shigeo had seen how out of sorts he'd been, his wings twitching, and had remembered how ruffled his feathers had looked. And, feeling grateful and guilty all at once, Shigeo had asked to preen him.

Reigen had frozen, hemmed and hawed and hesitated, but he'd ultimately given in, dragging Shigeo's desk chair around so he could sit on it backwards, allowing a smaller Mob to put inexperienced fingers to his wings. Straightening, plucking, brushing; feeling Reigen reluctantly shiver and croon beneath his touch and not yet knowing what the warm, hot feeling in his gut meant.

"Yes, Mob," Reigen said now, forcibly nonchalant. "I appreciate you helping me with it. Now, for the last time, be still would you?"

Shigeo obeyed, though he wasn't quite yet appeased. He let Reigen finish him up, then turned, wings still flared, and pushed up into Reigen's space. His gaze was focused, bright.

Insistent.

"Your turn, Shishou."

"Alright—alright, you pushy brat, give me a second to get situated!" Reigen barked, shoving at Shigeo's face in annoyance when his black wings crowded around him, hemming him in and herding him down.

Huffing, Reigen slid down onto the couch itself and sat crisscross, while Shigeo settled into Reigen's place on the back of the couch. He wasn't quite as tall as Reigen, not yet, but that just gave him a better vantage point to see what needed to be fixed. Shigeo buried his fingers in his shishou's pretty feathers, taking time to brush them through slowly. And, like always, Reigen relaxed instantly at his touch, his wings falling open wider, flexing.

A few feathers were loose, pulled out from between the others in Shigeo's hands, but unlike Reigen, he didn't pile them up to be disposed of later. Shigeo set every feather carefully beside him in a line a little disappointed that there weren't more. He supposed being a fully matured adult meant your wings shed less.

Reigen's wings weren't technically bigger than Shigeo's, not in height at least, but they were thicker. Longer. Sturdy, strong—capable of getting him places and getting him there fast.

Shigeo's wings resembled cormorants; fishing birds. Water birds. Built for diving, strength, weathering storms... Not for speed.

If Reigen ever decided to fly off without him, Shigeo wasn't sure he could catch him.

But he hadn't.

Many birds were sedentary. Many birds mated for life.

Shigeo hoped that, in that, he and Reigen were the same.

When he was finished, Reigen's wings gleamed like fools gold, straight and sleek. Shigeo felt pleased with himself, even more so when Reigen visibly had to wake himself up, lulled into a sleepy sort of contentment by Shigeo's ministrations. As he moved about the office, his wings fluttered and fluffed ever so slightly, as they always did when he was freshly preened and immensely pleased about it.

Hiding his smile by ducking his head, Shigeo tucked the few stray feathers he'd collected into his pocket. Then, as Reigen began to corral them both out the door for dinner, Shigeo slipped one of his own sleek primaries onto Reigen's desk. Center fold, unmistakable.

Reigen would find it in the morning. Shigeo hoped that he would tuck it away with the others Reigen pretended he didn't save in his desk drawer.

Then, when the time came, Shigeo hoped he'd wear them, as Shigeo wanted to wear his.

A symbol to the world that they belonged to each other.

[wordsbyrian]

Meet the Culers - Ona Batlle x Reader

Summary/Request: @dying-to-live-living-to-die "Ona x USWNT!Reader where R goes with her back to Spain for the holidays & ends up getting interrogated by Ona's national teammates"

A/N: yea, I don't actually have anything to say, enjoy the fic.

Every year since you joined the USWNT, and they found out that you prefer not to interact with your family during the holidays, you’ve had to deal with them fighting over who you were going to spend Christmas with.

This year is different though because you had sent them a mass text saying that you were going to Spain with your girlfriend this year.

You hadn’t given them any more information than that so now you’re fielding calls and texts from them trying to force you to tell them who your girlfriend is.

Your team moms, Alex and Kelley, had taken this the worst because you usually told them everything. You not telling them you’ve had a girlfriend for a year and a half already was pretty shocking to them.

Which explains the phone call you're currently having in the middle of Manchester airport.

“Can the two of you stop yelling at me for a second,” you say, waiting until they’re silent to continue, “This is exactly why I didn’t tell you guys, I knew you would react like this.”

“How do you want us to react, Y/N/N,” Alex asks, “Two days ago, you didn’t have a girlfriend and today, you’re darting off to Spain with her.”

“Well, to be fair, I did have a girlfriend, you just didn’t know.”

“You’re proving my point for me, Y/N,” she says.

“Listen, Y/N,” Kelley cuts in, “You have to understand where we're coming from.”

“No I don't,” you cut her off, “Once again, you guys are treating me like a child and in case you've forgotten, I'm not.”

“Y/N.”

“No, seriously, who do you guys think I went to Switzerland with?”

There’s a moment of silence as the older players take in what you’ve said.

“You went to Switzerland with her,” Alex asks, “Like last month when you went to Switzerland, you were with her?”

“I mean yea. We went to see her brother.”

“You’ve met her brother,” Kelley asks, trying to wrap her head around it, “Things are pretty serious, huh?”

“I’d say we’re serious, she is taking me to meet the rest of her family.”

You hear both of them sigh, seemingly having a silent conversation on the other end of the line.

“Okay, Y/N/N, here’s the deal,” Alex says, “You can go to Spain but you text us when you land and you text us at least once a day.”

“I was going to Spain whether you said I could or not but I agree to your terms,” you tell them, “The plane’s started boarding, text you later, bye.”

You hang up before they have a chance to respond, grabbing your stuff and moving to stand in line with your girlfriend.

“So we’re pretty serious,” she asks, smirking.

“Yeah,” you answer, rolling your eyes, “I’d say we’re pretty serious, Ona.”

A few days later, after having spent a couple of days with her family and exploring both her hometown and Barcelona, you and Ona find yourselves seated in Estadi Johan Cruyff watching some of her national teammates play.

The way that they move together is one of the best things you’ve ever seen. And if we’re being honest, it makes you jealous that your team, both national and club, are nowhere near that efficient.

Barcelona dominates the entire match and by the final whistle blows, the score is a stunning 7-0 for La Blaugrana.

This is when your day took a significant turn because instead of watching the game and heading home like had originally been the plan. You’re sitting in a restaurant with a significant portion of the Spanish national team because Ona had been spotted by her teammates.

So there you are sitting in the restaurant with Ona’s hand on your thigh doing your best to follow the conversation in a language you are barely beginning to understand.

For the most part, you aren’t struggling too much. There’s a lot of talk about the game and everyone’s holiday plans and even a moment where you hear Irene Paredes ask Ona why you’re wearing shorts, to which she just gets a head shake in response.

It isn’t until dessert that the interrogation you’re expecting starts, except the first question isn’t one you’re expecting.

“What’s your zodiac sign,” Patri asks, kicking it off.

“Uh, Cancer,” you say, watching confused as she nods seriously.

“What do you want to do when you retire from football,” Mapi asks.

“Probably do some writing for TV or film, it’s what I was studying in college.”

This seems to be a good enough answer for the older woman because she nods as though you just told her the secret of the universe.

“How did your family react when you told them that you have a girlfriend,” Panos questions.

“Most of my family is dead and the ones that aren’t are better left unmentioned,” you say seriously.

“What about your American teammates,” Sandra doubles down, “Morgan and O’Hara rarely let you out of their sight.”

“I think they took it pretty well.”

Ona glares at you, “You spent 30 minutes getting yelled at over the phones before our flight and before that you turned your phone off for days after telling them.”

“That was because I didn’t feel like answering 1000 questions,” you say casually, “Besides any reaction that didn’t involve them dragging me back to the States is a good one.”

“Why would they have taken you back to America? Do they not like Ona,” Alexia asks glaring at you.

“It's not that. They just think it’s normal to treat me like I’m 14, not 24.”

Somewhere to your left you hear something mumbled and while you don't understand every word, you do recognize the Catalan words for 14 and years, so you respond anyway.

“Yes, I am aware that I look like an overgrown 14-year-old.”

That gets a couple of laughs from the gathered Spaniards and when you see Pina’s cheeks heat slightly, you immediately know who made the comment.

The interrogation slows down after that and it’s not long before your group finds itself walking the streets of Barcelona.

You and Ona are near the middle of the group, your arm around her shoulders, speaking to each other softly.

When she mentions that she’s a little cold, you do your best to avoid the eyes on you as you remove your hoodie and hand it to her, revealing the tank top you have on underneath.

This is apparently the final straw for Paredes who grabs you by the shoulders from behind, spins you around, and starts speaking to you in rapid Spanish.

After standing there staring at her blankly for a few moments, you decide to tell her what she should already know.

“I have no clue what you’re trying to tell me.”

She stops for a moment before she speaks again, this time in English.

“It’s 15 degrees (Celsius) out and you are wearing shorts and a tank top, why?”

“Well,” you begin, “I’m pretty sure it’s like -10 Celsius in my hometown right now and they probably have at least a meter of snow on the ground so this is actually pretty nice for me.”

While Paredes stomps off muttering something about crazy Americans, you’re dragged off by Mapi and out of the corner of your eye you can see Alexia doing the same with your girlfriend.

“Escuchame loca,” she says, “I’m starting to like you but if you hurt Ona. I’ll kill you.”

This, unsurprisingly, is not the first time you’ve been threatened over a girl so you take this in stride. It’s not even the first time you’ve been threatened over Ona this week, She has a very large Uncle who is definitely not as nice as she made him out to be.

All of that being said, you have no issue pretending to be scared as the blonde centerback promises violence against you should you hurt her friend.

Eventually, the night draws to a close; you and Ona are in the car headed back to her parent's house.

Barely bothering to take your eyes off the sights outside the window, you speak.

“Your teammates aren’t that bad,” you tell her.

“Really,” Ona sounds shocked, “Mapi wasn’t too mean to you at the end?”

“No worse than your uncle.”

“Tio Josep isn’t scary, amor,” she says, “Besides I think your teammates will be worse.”

You pause for a moment, strongly considering the possibility.

“I think I’m gonna just keep you away from them,” you tell her seriously, “Especially Alex and Kelley.”

“Good luck with that.”

[baby-alien11]

Procura coquetearme más

Ethan Landry (Kirsch, Bailey or I don't how what his real last name is) x mexican fem reader

warnings: no ghostface (in this universe Richie actually died in a car accident), friends to lovers

I found @katzluvs idea while looking more Ethan fics, and I instantly thought of the entire school year that I spend at quinceañeras every weekend (including mine) and I got a lot of memories

You and Ethan met during a tour of Blackmore University when both of you were still in high school, being you the one who aproached him noticing how he sent glances at you and his shy aura, let's say that for the entire tour he didn't left your side being a little scared to loose himself from the group

After that, the both of you were inseparable spending time together even knowing each others families (and even knowing what happenned with his older brother)

"So, my cousin is having her quinceañera this weekend", you said while the both of you were watching a movie in his house and eating pizza, "They told me I could bring someone, and I thought of you, what do you think?"

"I've never been in a party like that, or even a normal party", he responded a little nervous

"It doesn't matter, it will be fun, I promise, you could say it's like a family reunion"

"It sounds fun, okay", Ethan nodded making you smile, "But, I don't know how to dance"

"It's easy", you shrugged getting up from the rug, "Come on"

A little doubtful, he did the same while you searched in your Spotify for a song, which was 'Criminal' by Natti Natasha and Ozuna

"Let's have a little class, we will start with urban style, this is like freestyle", you instructed, "Try to move your hips and relax"

At first it was hard because he haven't dance in his entire life, but he kinda understood, kinda, following with something a little more coreographed, 'Procura' from Chichi Peralta

"This is a little more traditional, we could call it a cumbia if we want to say, the ones who dance this more are the adults, but it would help, take my hands and follow me"

Nervous, he took your hands following your moves feeling more confident and tought that the dance was fun

"Okay, with this you can dance all the songs in that style, but the more difficult challenge is this", you said playing 'Payaso de Rodeo', "This is indespensible to learn, beacuse everyone is on the dance floor during this, and if you could hold it, we are going to be one of the few people standing"

"Is this a contest?", Ethan asked with confusion

"No", you replied, "But is fun"

Due to being a little more active, both of you made more space in his room to start practicing the dance, often crashing into each other between laughes, not noticing that Wayne and Quinn were watching everything from the door with confusion, Quinn filming the whole thing for fun

The day of the party who was saturday, Ethan had a little breakdown due to the fact that he didn't know what to wear until he asked you, and you answered saying a suit will be fine

"Who wears a suit to a family reunion?", Ethan asked while pacing in the living room

"I was curious and searched for those type of parties", Quinn said, "It's a big deal, like their MET Gala, also, if she has some hot cousin, can you get his number for me?"

"Are you fucking serious right now?", Ethan exclaimed in disbelief

"Kids, calm down", Wayne interrupted the discussion, "Ethan, here you go, is my jacket and Richie's old formal pants and you have a white formal shirt, it should be fine"

"Thanks dad", Ethan sighed taking the pieces of clothes, "Do you think I need a tie or something?"

"First go take a shower and dress, we'll disscus it later", Wayne instructed gently pushing him towards the bathroom

"Do you think he's going to kiss her today?", Quinn asked her father Ethan entered the bathroom

"I hope so", Wayne sighed

A few hours later, Ethan was still in his room getting ready with Quinn's help, deciding that a tie was no needed, when they heard how the front door was being open follow by your voice, so they hurried to the living room

When Ethan saw you in a light pink jumpsuit and golden high heels with your hair in small waves and golden accesories, he stopped for a moment before Quinn moved his arm in a sign to come back to this reality

"Ethan, hi", you exclaimed hugging him, "You look great"

"Thanks", he smiled with shyness, "You look gorgeous, well, you always look gorgeous"

Laughing a little because of his nervous tone, you took the time to notice he was wearing a black jacket and pants with a white formal shirt with the first two buttons undone, no tie in sight

After a few minutes of Quinn taking photos of both of you, you and Ethan were free to go towards the entrance of the building were your family car was waiting in the street

"Ethan!", your little sister screamed running in his direction, at what him took her in his arms, "I'm so happy your coming"

"I'm too", he responded with sincerity, "You look like a little princess"

"Y/N help me to choose it", she said gesturing the bright pink puffy dress

"¡Niños, apurense!", your mom screamed from the passenger seat, "¡Vamos a llegar tarde!"

Making your way to the car, the six year old child was the first to enter followed by you and Ethan

"Mijo, te ves guapisimo", your mom said turning to watch Ethan

"Gracias", Ethan smiled with his cheeks burning red understanding what she said due to the fact that you teach him some spanish

The moment the car parked outside the building of the events room and Ethan saw all the cars in the parking lot, he knew his sister was serious about the topic

"Here's what you need to know", you said while walikg behind your parents, "La quinceañera will enter after everyone is here, it will probably take an hour, right know they are en la misa de celebración and they will take a lot of photos, after her arrival she will make her gran entrada, following with the waltz and her surprise dance, the snacks and desserts table is closed until after the dances, the little ones had their own menu which is like fast food or something like that, the adults have fancy food, only the adults get to drink the alcohol, gracias a Dios que ya tenemos dieciocho, usually the teens are on the dance floor during the reggeatón songs, and they are outside after that, mostly the couples, during the part were the teens are on the dance floor, the DJ usually gives ballons, hats with funny phrases, funny accesories, it's crazy, don't mind the kids sleeping in chairs it's normal, ¿alguna pregunta?"

"I think not", Ethan answered while the both of you sit in the lounge area, "I tought you only said family only"

"By family, I meant everyone alive from both sides, friends of the family, friends of the quinceañera, and also her brother's friends, oh, and be careful with the aunts", you explained while a waiter aproached to the small sofa, "Dos daiquiris de fresa con vodka, por favor"

"What do you mean to be careful with the aunts?"

"They usually made uncomfortable questions to people that they don't know, in this case, you, don't worry, I'll be by your side", you smiled while taking one of this hands

At first, that gesture took him by surprise but he eventually felt confident enough to bring your hand to his face to leave a kiss on the back, making you blush

Not noticing your parents watching from afar

"Definitivamente van a besarse para el final de la noche", your mother commented

"No estoy listo para que tenga novio", your dad argued with your little sister in his arms

"Me agrada Ethan", the six year old said while playing with a doll, "Cuando va a casa juega a las muñecas conmigo"

Back at the lounge, you and Ethan were enjoying your drinks or taking photos with your hands still together in his lap

Just like you said, some aunts aproached to say hi and ask about Ethan, some uncomfortable cuestions, some not, but the most common was if the two of you were dating, which both of you denied

Just like you said, soon, the entire room was full of people of all ages, everyone dress in their best clothes, when a group of teenagers aproached the both of you to ask if they could use the extra space in the couches, both of you ended up sitting in a corner with you almost on his lap for the lack of space

During the waltz you recorded part of the dance, not noticing the loving look Ethan was giving you, but some younger cousins did, gigling of how cute that was, but neither of you noticed that

After the dances and speach, Ethan was quick in running to the food tables to grab something for the both of you before the other teens ended it

After the dinner was done, all the teenagers filled the big dance floor leaving empty the lounge area, but even after that, you and Ethan stayed together just enjoying the party

"Do you want to dance?", Ethan asked suddenly making you to look him with surprise, "I-I mean, you teach me how to"

"I would love to", you interrupted him

Smiling in confidence, Ethan took your hand to lead you to a free area in the dance floor to dance without bumping onto someone, but you noticed his nervous self looking anywhere but your eyes, in which you took his chin between your fingers connecting your eyes

"Sueltate, ¿esta bien?", you said smiling, "Diviertete"

His body was a little stiff at the beggining, but seeing you move your entire body at the rythim of the urban and reggeatón music made him do the same taking your hands at first, moving them until they ended in your waist, while yours were in the back of his neck

Even when the more "traditional" songs came, both of you still dance with the song while laughing because all the fun both of you were having

"Do you want to get some air?", Ethan asked watching how you were sweating and gasping for air

"Por favor", you nodded

After telling your parents that you were going to get some air, both of you went to the terrace were you sit on one of the bunks in front of the pool, noticing the cold night, Ethan was quick to put his jacket in your shoulders

"So, what do you think?", you asked taking your heels off

"This is wild and fun", Ethan responded, "I definitely want to come to another"

"Well, you are lucky that another cousin is turning quince in a few months"

"But, I don't want to came as only your friend", Ethan said causing you to look at him in surprise, "I like you, since that day we met at the Blackmore tour, and I'm glad you aproached because I honestly couldn't have the courage to do it myself, and..."

Interrupting him mid-phrase, you leaned over to kiss him at what he was surprised at first but soon he circled your waist with his arms, while your hands were in his curls and neck

The lack of air was the thing that made both of you break the kiss, but your foreheads were still together, during those moments, one of Ethan's hands travelled from your waist to the back of your neck

"In that case, do you want to come to the next ones as my boyfriend?", you asked softly tugging at some strands of his hair

"Me encantaría", Ethan answered with almost perfect pronuncation

For the next few minutes, you and Ethan stayed in the same position sharing small pecks and holding each other, enjoying each other's company

That was until the first melodies of Payaso de Rodeo started sounding, causing the both of you to run inside the room to join the dance

[cerealboxlore]

hello jfkgldghsd

uh hi I'd like to inform you of the absolute brainrot you've instilled into me with your mind swap au. i wrote . a 400 something word bit of how i'd like to think it went down with bruce and billy and yeah !

thought i'd send it over :))

Being in the Captain's body was interesting if Bruce had to put a word on it. One moment he was punching a drone, the next everything felt off. He was bulky and in a color way too bright to be Batman. Captain Marvel also looked disoriented, though the look was obscured by Bruce's own cowl.

"Batman."

"Captain."

"That's. You're. I'm in your body." He sounded panicked (so strange coming out of Bruce's mouth in Bruce's voice) as he looked wildly around.

The fighting had mostly subsided around him. He motioned to Captain Marvel to follow him over to a dark-ish alleyway. They needed to figure out the situation in private.

Captain Marvel glanced around hurriedly, ensuring they were alone before ripping off the cowl. His movements were almost childlike in the way he was so frantic about everything. Bruce took a calming breath.

"What's your name?" (He knew, of course, but he needed to ground the Captain).

"Billy." Captain Marvel said sheepishly.

"Well, Billy. We're going to be stuck like this for a while. I suggest you give me your boss's phone number so you can call in sick to work."

"I don't. Work. Sorry." Billy looked down and caught sight of his face in a nearby puddle. "I'm. You're. Bruce Wayne."

"Indeed." Bruce's mind was working furiously. He didn't know much about the Captain's identity, simply that it existed somewhere in the world. "Your face doesn't turn up in many databases, you know."

Billy winced. "About that. I, uh, was gonna tell you but it didn't seem right." 

“What do you mean it didn’t seem right?” Bruce was curious now. His mind was grasping at anything he knew about the Captain, settling on one particular phrase he always seemed to say when he was truly desperate. 

It called down a bolt of lightning, after all. 

Billy stammered something while Bruce took a step back. His voice was barely a whisper, yet it seemed to echo through the alleyway. 

“Shazam!”

Lighting came down from the heavens, engulfing Bruce. The first thing that came to mind was how much it hurt. His body wanted to fold inwards, forcing itself to deal with the electricity taking every which way through his body. He seemed to be getting smaller as well, shrinking as the muscular body of the Captain gave way to a small boy, no older than 10.  

“What?”

“Surprise?”

UH HI HELLO CAN I INFORM YOU OF THE BRAIN ROT THIS HAS GIVEN ME???!

So so sorry that I couldn't respond sooner but know that I read this ask the moment I got it and have been brain rotting ever since with so much love!!! <3

Your little fic has fed me and given me life, mwah mwah I thank you!!

I'm literally over the moon with happiness over the knowledge that I gave someone brain rot and now they can give me brain rot in return. Sharing truly is caring *sob*

You wrote this with only 400+ words and yet you captured Bruce and Billy perfectly with their reactions and how they would respond to this situation. And that last description of the lightning hitting Bruce and the horrific realization of the transformation lightning actually being painful, omg. I'm a huge fan of the idea that for Billy, the lightning actually hurts and gives him lichtenberg scars every time/a large one down his spine as a reminder. That despite the whimsical nature of the hero, he goes through unbearable pain every day for the sake of everyone else. I like it! Picasso!

[taylooraaye]

It'll Work Out - Chapter 1

Summary: When Gail Force, a producing duo, gets asked to join HYBE and work with a boy group under their company, they did not think that they would be meeting their Fated Mates. 

Pledis had been bought by HYBE, and Seventeen now needs more producers.

Disclaimers: Hi! Just a few disclaimers, this is a Seventeen A/B/O AU, and there will be smut at some point in the story. This is technically an OC fic but you are more than welcome to read as Y/N. This is something that I and my best friend are coming up with together. I don't have a set posting schedule yet so bear with me.

Hello Gail Force,

I am the Recruitment Liaison from HYBE labels. We are currently in the process of expanding our music production department.

Based on your previous work with BIGHIT and other Korean labels, we would love to invite you out to meet with us and discuss the opportunity of a permanent position on our music production staff.Your work comes highly recommended along with a positive reputation within the industry.

Below is attached a detailed description of the position, the standard production contract, and the company's health and safety promise. Please respond to this email or contact me at (xxx) xxx-xxxx with any questions or concerns as well as to schedule a formal interview and conference if you are interested in the position.

Kind Regards,

Recruitment Liaison

Music Production Department

HYBE Corp.

The email had come as a shock to both girls, while they had worked very well when they collabed with BTS, this was not the outcome that they had thought would happen. Vienna was the one that had opened the email in the first place, having called over Piper to make sure it was not a joke.

“Are you seeing this?” Vienna was still in disbelief, they had been in the industry for years now, and collabing with BTS had opened some opportunities for them with smaller companies but it was never permanent positions. Piper had sat there for about five minutes rereading the email making sure it was not fake before she had decided to say something.

“Call the number you whore!” she had begun to hit Vienna to try and get her to hurry up.

“Wait! What time is it in Korea?” The other girl had begun to look up what time it was. It was 4:00 PM in Atlanta so it was well into the early morning in Korea. Being that early in the morning the girls had no choice but to wait at least three more hours so it could be a reasonable 6:00 AM in Korea.

The waiting was the worst for the both of them, they were people who liked having the instant gratification of going and buying in the store instead of ordering online. Once it had hit 6:00 AM there was a fight to see who would not have to call, both girls having anxiety when having to make phone calls.

“It's technically your turn to make the call.You have the better customer service voice.” Piper had made a good point but if Vienna was being honesty, she was not giving up that easily.

“But I was the one that found the email, I saw it now you have to make the call.” Vienna had started to pout at Piper. Vienna was the younger of the two and really knew how to get her way with the older girl. All she had to do was bat her eyes at her and she would fold. Piper had given up at that point realizing that she had already lost.

“Hi, This is Piper, one half of Gail Force, I was giving you a call regarding the email that was sent.” She had sat down in their studio to give them a call and was now regretting everything as her anxiety started to rise. Vienne was waiting not as patiently, she had her ear pressed up against the phone that Piper was holding to try and hear what they were saying. It was not a comfortable position at all but she needed to be able to hear what was being said.

“So you want us to come to korea for a permanent position, Who are we going to be producing for?” The older girl was getting annoyed with the person on the phone. The email was real but they would not give them any more information besides that someone had recommended them for this position and that they would be working with a boy group.

~ a week later ~

The girls had decided that they were going to take the position after a lengthy call on what HYBE was prepared to offer them to get them to sign a contract. HYBE was going to set them up with an apartment since finding one at the last minute was not going to go over well, along with that each girl got their own production studio. While they were a producing duo, when producing they had different sounds when working.

They were hoping that once they got into korea that they could get to their new apartment and get some unpacking done but HYBE had wanted them to come in to the office to official sign the rest of the contract and meet part of the group that they were going to be working with. The plane ride was not that bad but being omegas in their own little “not pack” it was hard not being able to scent each other to calm down, and now having to go straight to HYBE ment that they would have to put off scenting each other ever more. Once at HYBE, they were meant to be meeting with Bang PD.

“So, we just want to get some more information for our Health and Wellness department, If you could just fill out these forms, that would be great.” Bang DP had explained while handing them to form.

“Are your heats regular?” Vienna had read the question before Bang PD could react. His face had turned a firey red before he could tell them to not read the question out loud. “Please dont read the questions off, I do not need to know what is being asked on them.” The girls having turned red themselves at his awkwardness,jsut continued with the questionnaire.

On the other side of the building, the Leader line of Seventeen was exiting their practire room when they were met with a few member of BTS.

“OH! Are you all headed to your meeting with Gail Force?” Namjoon had questioned them as they were passing. Seungcheol having realized what they were talking about had spoken up “yes, we are going for our initial meeting with them. You have work with them before right?”

“Yes, they worked with us on Map Of Seoul 7 after Jungkook had begged Bang PD to get them to work with us.” Jungkook started pouting at what Namjoon had reveled. “They are pretty intense when it comes to producing, it probably one of the only time that i have been intimated. “ Yoongi had added. Picking up on what Yoongi was up to, Jungkook decided to get in on the action.”They are like 6’6” and really macho Alphas. They give Namjoon a run for his money.” Namjoon having to turn to conceal his amused face decided that they needed to head out. “Well, you all should be heading over, dont want to be late.”

As the leader line was heading to the meeting Hoshi decided to speak up. “ do you think they were telling the truth? Namjoon seemed to be laughing at the end there.”

“Well, they have worked with them before, there is not a reason for them to lie.” Woozi was already annoyed with the situation and Hoshi was not helping. Woozi was under the impression that Seventeen didnt need more producer, he was more than able to do it and now he was going to be made to work with more people.

The walk over to the meeting room was not long and as they got there, Hoshi had to ask another question. “What do we do?”

Seungcheol being the Pack Alpha decided to speak up “Hold our heads up and puff our chest out. We are also Alphas.”

Opening the door, they wre not met with the picture they BTS had painted for them, sitting in the room were two girl on the shorter side, one was stacking bottles atop one another and the other acting like she didnt know who she was.

“Um, are you both with Gail Force?” S. Coups was still holding the door handle incase they had entered the wrong room.

“Hi, yes we are Gail Force, Im Piper and this is Vienna. “ the older girl had introduce the both of them.

“Is it only you two?” S. Coups was in disbelief at the two girls that were in the room. “See i told you BTS Sunbeanim was joking with us!” Hoshi was now pouting at Woozi and S. Coups since they did not believe him. The two girls were giggling at Hoshis outburst.

“They tend to do that, they think its funny since we are both Omegas.” Vienna had explain after her giggles had died down. “ we are going to have to text them again.” she added on.

“Wait, You both are Omegas? we have been looking for Omegas.” Hoshi had sat down as he began to talk. S. Coups give him a bewildered look. “You can not just say that to people, Its not common for people to ask that is the states.” S. Coups had sat beside him while he was scolding him. Woozi was the last to sit but he had yet to say anything.

“I am very sorry about him, we are technically looking for an Omega for our pack but he should had no asked that especially since we all just met.” S. Coups apoligized to the girl on the behalf of Hoshi.

“Its okay, we understand that some things are done differently in Korea.” Vienna was trying to not laugh as she talked. Piper was still in shock at what Hoshi had said, her mouth still open with shock. Vienna had nudge her to get her back to earth.

“You do know that you both can take off your scent blockers right?” S. Coups was saying this for more of his sake, he did not like have part of his pack around people that he couldnt smell. While the only other two with him were Alphas as well, it didnt mean he liked it any less.

“We are okay keeping them on, we are still getting used to the scents here in HYBE.” Vienna was planning on sticking up for herself and Piper if she had to. They were unmated and in a foreign country they werent just going to go around without scent blockers on. “Bang PD told us that we did not have too as well, but until we are more comfortable her, we arent going to be taking them off.” She had added also.

“If anything, you all should be wearing one. Yall are stinking up the office.” Piper wasnt going to admit that she actual thought someone out of them smelled amazing but she also wasnt going to allow these alphas to think they were entitled to smell them just because it makes them uncomfortable.

Woozi having sensed that the girls were getting upset decided to step in before the other two could put their foot further in their mouths. “We were just making sure you both knew that we and the company value our omega workers and would not make them wear scent blockers.” Woozi having defused the situation moved onto a different topic. “You both have worked with BTS?”

“We have, about a year ago, we each produced a song with them. We are a duo but we have different sound when it comes to producing.” Piper had begun to explain the dynamic of their duo, “I work mainly on softer music and Vienna is usually the go to for harder sounds. “We look forward to working with you both.” S. Coups added in to the conversation.

Piper having realized the time decided it was time to cut the meeting short. “It has been great to meet y'all but we need to head out and get to our living arrangements.”

A/N: I hope y'all like this so far. it's my first time writing fanfic so it hope it's good.

[themastaralex]

Your Heart and Soul are mine (and mine are yours) - Chap 1

soo, i promised some people maki fics, this is one of them, the others i still havent finished (this one included) but we gotta get through the introductions and everything before we get to the fun stuff with maki and the gang

wc: 1.7k

note: reader is the same age as yuta, but yuta is older (aka they're both pisces, it's on purpose)

2008: 10 years before the Shibuya Incident.

LOCATION: Texas, United States of America.

“She says she's seeing things again.”

The doctor leans back in her chair, crossing her arms, speaking to the woman in front of her desk. The woman looks at the ground, sighing.

She didn't expect this. She knows there was a little to no chance of you getting a cursed technique. She knows there's such a low chance of you seeing any curses of any sort…

..yet..

..you did it. Your mother has no idea how or what cursed technique you possess, and to be completely fair, she barely knows much about it anyways.

“What sort of things has she been seeing? Or has she not spoken about that?”

The doctor- Dr. Graham clears her throat, then looks at your mother, who definitely doesn't look as worried as a mother would if they were told their daughter was seeing things.

“She hasn't said. But I'm sure they're nothing bad, seeing as her mental state doesn't look like it's deteriorated.”

It's clear to her that you aren't at all injured or mentally hurt. If anything, she's more surprised you're as happy and energetic as you are after stating you're seeing things.

Regardless, your mother nods, looking to her right where you're sitting, mindlessly reading a comic book, not at all aware of the effects your heritage has on you.

You're blissfully unaware of everything regarding your father's side of the family.

They say ignorance is bliss. Currently for you, in this position, as a 7 year old child- It definitely is.

Being special runs in your blood. And you have no idea that's the case. 

“I see.” Your mother- Rosa- responds calmly. She doesn't need to give away any hints as to your heritage, your blood, your family.

Dr. Graham just nods, writing something on a paper then handing it to your mother, as you look up, eyes now locked on your mother. You're sure you're about to leave, as you see her stand up.

“If she speaks about this anymore, I'd like to have a thorough evaluation.”

‘Thorough’ evaluation. That means they want to put you in a CT scan machine, and they won't find anything because you're not sick.

No, you're not sick.

You're just a Gojo. You're just Satoru Gojo's younger half-sister.

The Strongest Sorcerer of this Era. 

“I understand.” Your mother looks at you, moving away from the chair as she heads toward the door. “Let's go, mija.”

You nod with a small smile, giving the doctor a quick nod as well before leaving with your mother.

On that paper she got, there was names of possible suppressors for your ‘condition’ if it gets ever so worse. But it won't. She knows it won't.

–

2013: 5 years later:

“MAMI!”

You try reaching out for her as you wail and struggle to get past the nurses holding you back.

“MAMI! PLEASE LET ME PASS!” Your eyes are glossy, as tears fall down your eyes. They keep their firm grips on your body, as you whimper and wail, ignoring your own injuries.

Your pleas do nothing to let you pass. Instead, you get to see as they roll your mother down the hallway, half dead and bleeding out profusely.

They tranquilize you, taking effect after a few seconds. You black out involuntarily, body going limp.

Once you wake up, you find it slightly hard to open your eyes- your eyelids feeling quite heavy. The lights in the room don't help much either, but you open your eyes anyways.

With giving the room a quick scan, you deduce that you're still in the hospital, as a nurse comes in the room to check on you.

“You're awake.. Good.”

Over the next few minutes, she brings you water and some food, after which you ask where your mother is.

Your heart drops as soon as you hear the words:

“I'm.. I'm sorry, sweetie.”

Your heart drops, your stomach drops, your face instantly contorts into one of anger and sadness as you begin to sob uncontrollably.

“W-why.. What the fuck..” 

For a 12 year old child to lose their mother, their only caretaker, their family… Is heartbreaking. 

Your heart definitely broke that day, along with countless nightmares of seeing her being rolled down that hallway, always being taunted with the fact that maybe, just maybe, you could have done something.

The only things you had left after that was your pride, arrogance, and ego. And that's what you used to keep anyone from getting too close. 

Coming to terms with your own grief was utterly impossible.

You were deep in depression as you lived with your aunt for a few weeks.

You wouldn't go to school, you'd barely eat, you'd barely get up from your bed. That was normal considering the fact you'd just lost your mother, your only parent.

Until one morning, when you decided to get up.

That damn door. The hard knock. Then a slightly loud, “Hi there, is anybody home?”

From your spot on the couch, you raise your head, now awfully curious. Mami always told you to not open the door for strangers, but something about the person seems oddly familiar. Not familiar in the personal sense, however.

You stand up, slowly walking your way to the door. You try not to make much noise, as if the person could hear anyways, but you get to the door and look through the peephole, seeing a very tall man with white hair and some dark shades. He looks distracted as he looks away from the door. You squint your eyes at his figure, his whole body slightly radiating some sort of aura.

“Huh?” You state out loud, prompting him to turn back towards the door. “Ah, shit.”

“Hey, it's fine. Open the door. Seriously. I'm not gonna do anything.” After a moment, the man sighs, running his hand through his hair.

“..yeah, that sounds like something someone would say if they wanted to do something. Sorry.” 

He shakes his head, as you seem to unlock the door by pure instinct, going against everything your mother taught you.

His facial expression- Or what can be seen from it- lightens up as you open the door, a small smile on his face. 

The man is huge- almost like a giant. You'd guess he's probably over 6 feet tall. Not to mention, his hair color is definitely weird. Looks natural too..

The guy looks down at you and grins brightly, taking off his glasses and looking at you with some bright ass light blue eyes. They seem to glow, being the same color of a clear light blue sea, as he stares down at you.

“I'm Satoru Gojo. I'm your big brother.”

You just stare at him for a moment, as he stares back. It seems you're both speechless- you more so.

“I don't have a big brother.” You state, starting to close the door, but he easily holds it open. Either way, he's still grinning, as you look at him with an expression that really just says, ‘Man, what? Is this guy crazy?’

“I don't know any Satoru Gojos or whatever. My last name isn't even Gojo, so that's already wrong.” 

You're very sassy and sarcastic for a 12 year old, and he already takes note of that. After all, you're his little sister. And by the signature of cursed energy emanating from you…

You're definitely strong, or at least, have the potential to be strong.

Satoru’s sure you have no damn idea as to what cursed energy even is, so he'll save that for a later talk.

“I know your last name isn't Gojo. But you're my sister, I swear!”

“..that doesn't really help your case, bro..”

He scratches his head, holding his glasses in his other hand. It doesn't seem like he intends to do anything malicious, so it seems like you can trust him enough.

“Prove it. Prove you're my brother.”

You say that with bravado, thinking he's not your brother, obviously. He's white- Japanese, maybe- white hair, blue eyes that seem to glow? Who is this dude? Satoru Gojo? Who the hell is Satoru Gojo?

“Uh. How am I supposed to prove that?”

“I dunno, you're the one who said you're my brother.” After you shrug, he sighs, when he pulls out a folded photo. Your eyes narrow as you see him unfold it, seeing your mother and some other man in a very close position.

Side hugging, with the man's arm on your mother's waist. You slightly smile at seeing your mom’s face, very much younger. 

“That's my father. And yours too.”

With skepticism in your eyes, you look back up at Satoru, now slightly less hesitant. The man in the photo does look like Satoru, down to the eye shape and hair.

If that's your dad, why didn't you come out with white hair? Or blue eyes? Why did you have to come out relatively average? Brown hair, brown eyes?

Those Mexican genes are really not doing you any favors.

Your mom never mentioned your father, ever. 

You weren't sure if it was because she hated him, or if she just didn't want to mention him. But now, you're slightly thinking about whether or not you should trust this man, Satoru Gojo- Who willingly calls himself your brother, likely knowing of your mother’s demise and your current status.

“Maybe you're not lying. Maybe.”

Your voice is a quiet mumble, as you begin to start to believe him. He's given you no reason to not trust him, so believing him seems right.

Satoru grins, crouching down to your level, one of his hands moving to gently rest on your shoulder. He makes sure to keep some distance between you two however, seeing as he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable or weirded out.

Barely been your big brother for a few minutes and he's already worried.

“Good! You're starting to believe me, at least!”

You can't help the small smile you wear on your face when you see his large grin and genuinely happy face. That makes you feel warm. It makes you smile so sincerely, feeling very happy- for the first time in a few weeks since your mother's death.

Satoru Gojo is the Strongest, not just in strength, but in heart as well

[amethystina]

Fanfic Tag Thingie

I am choosing to be tagged by @miss-ingno because this sounded like fun and I need an escape from the realisation that I am literally on the edge of burnout and my life is a mess. So here we go! :D

How many works do you have on AO3?

76

What's your total AO3 word count?

2 237 636

... and I have around 200k more just sitting in my WIP folders. I can't write short things x'D

What fandoms do you write for?

Right now it's mainly various Kdramas (The Devil Judge, Black Knight, plus my bold venture into Strangers From Hell) but, before that, it was mostly The Losers, Marvel, Pacific Rim, and Teen Wolf. With the occasional detour here and there.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Who Holds the Devil (The Devil Judge, Gahan) at 3 390

Tech Support (MCU, Winteriron) at 3 217

Autonomy (MCU, Winteriron) at 3 137

I Won't Hold My Breath (MCU, Winteriron) at 2 914

Conflict of Interest (MCU, Winteriron) at 2 173

It's honestly a little wild to me that Who Holds the Devil has somehow managed to race to the top despite the other fics being at least four years older (sometimes more). And for a much bigger fandom, at that. You guys are not fucking around.

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do! Every single one if I can, though it can sometimes take a while before I get to all of them. And I just can't help it, I guess? Partly because I want to show that I've read the comment and appreciate the time and effort that went into writing it, but also because it often gives me an opportunity to talk about my writing and the choices I made in the fic.

And, apparently, the fact that I reply to all comments has become a bit of a thing at least when it comes to Who Holds the Devil, where readers will search through my replies looking for tidbits and extra information about the fic, characters etc.

(you guys are so weird and so dedicated and I love all of you xD)

What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Grief (The Losers (Comics)). Because it is, predictably, about grief and how to keep living after someone you love has died. Though I would argue that the ending has a hint of hopefulness to it since it's also about moving on from said grief?

But yeah. Definitely that one since it's Major Character Death that I choose not to fix.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Literally every single fic except for the one above xD I LOVE my happy endings, okay? And it's kind of difficult to rank them since it depends a lot on the setting, characters, and the personal preference of the reader.

Heck, I even managed to give my Strangers From Hell fanfic a sugary sweet happy ending! That's dedication right there!

Do you get hate on fics?

Yeah, from time to time. I've gotten everything from childish insults calling me a bad writer to backhanded comments questioning my choices, writing style, grammar, spelling, dedication, intelligence, etc. I've even received more targeted, personal hate where people I thought I could trust were making fun of me behind my back in private chat rooms.

Most recently, though, it's less hate and more the "I simply must tell you that you're not writing this fic as I want you to write it" type of deal. Often paired with "It's my personal opinion and I have every right to express it." Which, fair enough. But that means I get to do the same, which I've noticed is something those kinds of commenters kind of hate. Especially when I point out that they've now made me a lot less keen to write the fanfic they're supposedly so fond of.

Turns out people don't like being reminded that their actions have consequences.

All in all, though, I've learned to just delete the comments I find too offensive or hateful.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Oh god no. Sex scenes are the bane of my existence and I spend the entire time writing them looking like this: ლ(ಥ益ಥლ)

I've been told I'm not bad at writing them (the ones in Until Death Do Us Unite were quite appreciated) but anything involving sex or sexual tension is just a nightmare for me. Even more so when it's supposed to be kinky or extra spicy.

So why is one of the main ships I write for right now clearly a Dom/sub ship, you ask?

Because I'm an idiot. That's why.

Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you've written?

I rarely do. The only crossover I've written is Resurrection where Derek Hale ends up in Purgatory together with Dean Winchester and they fight their way back to the world of the living (so Derek replaces Benny, basically).

I also have this one random fic (yet unposted) where Tony Stark and Eddie Brock are a couple (from the MCU and Venom movies, that is). But they're technically both in the Marvel universe so I'm not sure if that counts?

Long story short, crossovers aren't really my thing. I rarely write or read them.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of, no.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I have! Several, in fact, from various fandoms. Mostly into Russian, Spanish, or Mandarin. And I am honestly so flattered every time someone asks me if they can translate one of my fics 💜

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have not, no. I made plans to write a fic with a friend once, but we never got to the point of actually writing it. And, in all honesty, I think that might be just as well. I'm a perfectionist and writing a fic with me would probably be very exhausting for the other party xD

What's your all-time favourite ship?

I really don't know. Like, I'm tempted to say Jensen and Cougar from The Losers, or maybe Destiel or Stony, but I think that's partly founded in comfort and nostalgia. My ships change as I do and I really can't pinpoint an all-time favourite.

But CURRENT favourite? Definitely Kang Yo Han and Kim Ga On because they present such a wonderful challenge to someone like me, who loves to go real deep into character motivations, behaviour etc. They're a delight.

What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I'm not sure. I plan to finish all the ones I've started posting but there might be some in my folders that I'll decide to abandon if I truly can't revive my interest in them. But, usually, I can.

And, speaking of that, to all my MCU peeps (if there are any of you still out there): I know you've waited six years for the Tech Support sequel but it's finally been written and just needs to be edited. It's coming, my darlings. I promise.

Basically, when I say I'll do something, I will do it — even if it takes me six goddamn years, apparently x'D

What are your writing strengths?

Characters, tone, and emotions. I'm good at capturing the essence of the characters and write them in a way that feels believable and close to canon. I'm also really good at making people feel things with my writing, I've been told. According to testimonials, my readers can often see what's happening play out inside their heads like a movie, and feel the characters' emotions as they're living through them.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Aside from the aforementioned sex scenes? I think it's my inability to keep things short. I use a lot of unnecessary words and could definitely get better at being more concise. In a similar vein, I sometimes focus so much on the details with lengthy, wordy descriptions that I accidentally forget about the big picture, which is understandably confusing to my readers.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I've done it from time to time (since my man Cougar speaks Spanish) but I'm pretty careful with it. And if it's longer sentences I always make sure to double-check with a native speaker.

First fandom you wrote for?

Teen Wolf! Which, admittedly, was because I didn't care if I fucked it up x'D I enjoyed the first two seasons of Teen Wolf, make no mistake! But I chose it mainly because it wasn't the ship I was the most emotionally invested in and so I figured it wouldn't feel as bad if it turned out that I sucked. Luckily enough for me, I didn't xD

Favourite fic you've written?

Just like with the all-time favourite ship, I'm not sure if I can answer this one. Because I like all of my fics but in different ways.

I'll always have a fondness for that first huge Teen Wolf series I wrote, for example, and had a lot of fun with Autonomy because of the world-building. Same goes with Hyperborean. But Who Holds the Devil is definitely my favourite when it comes to character work. While Allies is my favourite when it comes to tone, since it ended up just the way I wanted it to. And Until Death Do Us Unite was an absolute BLAST because I got to write horror and some really weirdass shit, which I've never done before.

So, truly, I can't say. Each one I've written has something I cherish and while some definitely stand out more than others, I wouldn't be able to just pick one.

___

And that's that! I tag whoever wants to do it! :D

[torukmaktoskxawng]

Fic in the works

Hey, do me a favor? Read this please? It’s been a work in progress long before this blog was made (and yet it still doesn’t even have a title) and I wanna know if people would read it just by the Prologue alone...

It’s an oc fic, but please don’t let that discourage you. It’s a Tonowari x Oc x Ronal fic and the Oc is Jake’s younger sister (I know, not very original, but I like to think I’ve branched out and created a unique story with different situations that I haven’t seen in a Jake!sister fic yet). Again, this is just the Prologue.

Warning: Swearing, angst, sibling resentment, mentions of death and suicide. It’s giving “older sibling is leaving and moving on with their lives and younger sibling is mad because they only see it is abandonment and can’t fathom having to live in this shit world alone.”

EARTH, OVER TWENTY YEARS AGO...

It's like a switch turned off in his head.

One minute he's drinking and actually enjoying life for once, the next he's thrown out of the bar and had been told his twin brother was dead. Seeing Tommy's body numbed everything, sobering Jake up before he even had a chance to puke the stuff out. It's one thing for his legs to stop working, it's another for his emotions to stop as well. The man barely said a word or even composed a proper emotion during the whole funeral process. After watching his brother's body being cremated, he hadn't been angry or even devastated by the loss. There wasn't a single tear shed on Jake's behalf during the service, his mind droning out the words exchanged and the condolences given.

Now, he sat in his wheelchair, staring out the window of his sister's crammed two-room apartment, not far down the road from his own living space. His hair was long and unkept with the idea of shaving it all off tomorrow, the dress jacket he had worn for the service now tossed to the couch behind him. The shaggy, old apartment didn't have much for lights, least of all a view, the only green to be seen being the lights of signs indicating a restaurant or a dollar store right outside. The familiar sound of ice clinking softly together in a glass could be heard behind him, along with a woman's voice.

"Jake? Jake."

"Hm."

The woman's voice drew closer as she crossed the room to him, "I found a job opening down the street. 'Pay is good. Thought we might check it out together?"

Looking up, Jake is met with a small glass with about a couple gulps worth of whiskey in it, and two ice cubes to make up for the shitty water content. He glances up at his sister as she offers the glass to him and he eventually takes the drink but doesn't acknowledge her words. Kayla's head tilts to the side, studying his reaction before speaking again, "What is it?"

His jaw tightens, taking the time to stare down at his drink while he finds the words, "... I'm taking Tommy's job. I'm gonna be shipped out on a shuttle tomorrow afternoon. In about... six years, I'll be landing on Pandora."

"... Really."

"Money's good," he tries offering the bright side, despite his brooding behavior. He gulps back his entire drink with one tip back of his head, tolerating the burn of alcohol before setting the empty glass on the window sill, "And they need someone with Tommy's face and DNA in order to sync up with the avatar they designed for him. I'll be saving them millions of dollars."

He doesn't need to see her face to know that Kayla was trying to refrain from scowling, "You don't know a single thing about science. You're a war dog."

"Not anymore, clearly," Jake muttered while his hands touched the wheels of his chair.

"You know what I mean. I mean you barely passed high school--"

"'And Tommy passed with flying colors', yeah I know," he responds flatly, a bad taste starting to form in his mouth, "I've heard that plenty of times, trust me."

"Jake-- why are you telling me all this the night before you're meant to leave?"

He finally looks up at her. Plain-faced and pale, Kayla still had a shadow of youth in her eyes, with plenty of life ahead of her. She may not be a twin like Jake and Tommy, but she still bore the resemblance of a Sully. Narrow nose, thin lips, dull blue eyes, and a pointed chin, Jake's younger sister could easily be misinterpreted as his twin now that Tom was no longer around. The thought made his stomach clench and the taste in his mouth got worse.

"So you wouldn't be able to stop me."

She huffs, unimpressed as she took a long sip of her own beverage, "Well, at least you're honest when you're drunk."

"I'm not drunk."

"When are you not drunk these days?" She hissed, "Do you think those scientists will take on a drunk in the RDA or whatever-the-fuck it's called?"

"I'll sober up in my cryotube. I'll be clean in six years and it'll only feel like six hours for me. It's a win-win."

"You mean a win-win-lose because that still means leaving behind your only living family member. Whatever happened to 'Sullys stick together?'"

Jake scoffs while taking a hand to rub his tired face, "You're not a kid anymore. You can make your own living, and start your own family. You don't need me and you definitely don't need this lifestyle. You could do anything with your life without your crippled brother holding you back--"

"Who died and made you the sole decision-maker of what I do with my life?"

"You're clearly leaving an opening for me to say 'everyone died.'"

She pointedly slammed her drink down on the window sill before she turned to walk away, "Fuck you."

"Kayla..." With his sister still exiting, Jake grabbed his wheelchairs ad made the motion to go after her, his arrogance and pent-up emotions now starting to boil over, "Hey! Kayla! What the hell do you want from me?!"

"I want to be the first choice!" She screams, whipping back around to point an accusing finger down at him, "For once! I have never been put first over anything else ever! Not with Mom or Dad. Not with Tommy. And now not even with you!"

The snarl he lets out startled even him, bitter coldness dripping from his words, "Grow up, Kayla."

"What, is it childish to feel wanted?"

"Yes! That's not how you survive out here!" He emphasizes this by swinging an arm in the direction of the window.

"Stomping down feelings and a need for your family will ensure your survival?"

"'A need for your family?'" He grins up at her, incredulous and in disbelief, "Do you even hear yourself? It's not like I'm your first choice for a caring older brother!"

"No, you're not. You're always drunk, mean, and miserable these days."

"Hence why you don't need me holding you back--"

"Shut the fuck up!" She roars back, "Only you can hold you back. So stop trying to sell me this bullshit excuse that you're not worth keeping around only so you can ditch me! Because that's what you really want, isn't it? To ditch your sister?"

The room is silent apart from both siblings trying to regain their breath and posture. Jake had a hard time admitting that his voice had cracked when he managed to tone down the volume, "... No matter how I answer that... it won't be an answer you like."

Pain flashed in her eyes, a visual that would continue to haunt Jake from that day forward. Kayla's dirty-colored hair spills over one shoulder as she straightens herself up, towering over Jake, the hurt quickly being replaced by a wall of cement that quickly hardened behind her blue eyes. Her face relaxed into an expression that slowly bubbled with anger instead of pain, her voice dripping with venom, "You're right. Because you're either leaving me here because you don't want me to watch you die, or you're leaving to start a new life without any reminders of me. Either way, you're a sick son of a bitch and I wish you died instead of Tommy! Go to Hell!"

For added measure, she takes her foot and kicks at his wheelchair, pushing Jake back as he rounds back with more hateful words, quick to defend and pity himself, "I'm already in Hell! Living here, breathing this air, looking like this! This whole place is fucking Hell and I'm sick of it! You can love life as much as you want and make the most of it, but it's still a dying dream! I hate it here! I'd rather blow my brains out on Pandora than here! At least there's something nice to look at when that happens!"

The silence is nearly deafening the apartment, Jake's ragged breaths of anger pounding in his ears as he glares up at Kayla. Spontaneous tears spilled out of her eyes the second Jake found the time to blink, her breaths shaking as she tried to control herself from letting out any pathetic noise resembling a sob. It was a struggle, to be sure, as Jake watched her entire composure slowly crumble and shake, trying to grasp whatever dignity she had left.

"I hate you..." the words sound forced out, but they stab Jake straight in the chest, nonetheless. Kayla's voice croaked as she continued the verbal lashing, "I hate you..." She furiously wipes away her tears with the collar of her dress shirt that she had worn for her big brother's funeral, "When I wake up tomorrow, you better be gone by then."

The pent-up rage had been released in a cold laugh under his breath as Jake tightly gripped his wheels, "How about I do us both a favor and leave now!"

He rolls past her and makes it to the door, letting it slide open for him with a bit of a struggle due to the little power left in the mechanics of it. He doesn't turn back as he aggressively wheels forward, calling over his shoulder, "Have a good life, kid."

"Fuck you, Jake."

Then the door slides shut once more.

So? Maybe? Obviously I don’t wanna give away too much so I hope it captured your attention. I’ve written so much for this fic and haven’t post a single chapter. You guys are the first to see this. I think that if I had support, I’d finally have the motivation and courage to let it out into the world as corny as it sounds. Anyway, thank you for reading it anyway!

[sazabi-rot]

Aight, so I'm just gonna post a quick excerpt from my Charmuro fic under the cut. I could use some pointers because I feel like I write Amuro really ooc, which pains me greatly. I'm also not the best at writing, so bear with me.

This is also a major au that doesn't make much sense, but whatever, it's a fanfic.

It was a funny thing, how quickly his life had fallen apart.

He wasn't unused to his life being controlled and meticulously planned out without his own wellbeing in mind by others, all for the sake of the 'Greater Good.' The seven years spent in enforced isolation after his performance in the One Year War was proof of that enough. Instead of being applauded for his efforts in defending Earth he was instead hidden away, deemed too powerful and 'dangerous' for contact with the outside world. Too much of a potential threat.

Yet another drafted teenager, being punished in one way or another for his service.

Though even that didn't seem as egregious as what he was now being subjected to.

The arranged marriage to the leader of Neo Zeon was purely political, Bright had explained, looking at Amuro with that same tired sympathy the younger man had grown so accustomed to during their time serving and knowing one another. It spoke a thousand words that were otherwise left unsaid as he broke the news and Amuro didn't have to parse through them all very hard to understand the general idea being communicated.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry something like this is happening again to you. You don't deserve it.

Amuro was sure Bright was sent by the leaders of Londo Bell in an attempt to soften the blow of the announcement, but he didn't much care for any sort of attempted platitudes. That didn't mean however he would take his anger out on Bright.

There was someone else he had in mind who was much more deserving.

Bright let out a long, heavy, sigh and wiped a hand across his face. It was a face that held a permanent sense of exhaustion and belied his true age, war and leadership being thrust upon his shoulders at such a young age that left him looking much older than he actually was. Amuro sometimes had to remind himself that the other man was only a few scarce years older than himself. "I'm sorry, Amuro," Bright finally said, at the end of the formal speech he was sure the Commander had been prepped on. "I tried everything I could to get you out of this. There's just no way."

He didn't respond for a moment, staring down at the half full glass of whiskey cupped between his palms. Bright had told him he had news when he arrived, and the look in his eyes had told Amuro it wouldn't be anything he would be particularly fond of. So, he did what he always did when situations like these arose that he knew could potentially be taxing.

He had poured a drink.

He tipped back the glass and gratefully drank down the amber draught, accustomed by now to the burn. "I suppose it's expected I'd be the one picked by him. Char always did have an odd fascination towards me I felt."

Bright blinked at him, his brows furrowing. "Amuro... Char didn't arrange this. Londo Bell proposed an arranged marriage for peace's sake. They deemed you the best candidate due to you two's... past."

Amuro's eyes widened momentarily and he stiffened, before sinking back into the couch he had been seated on and looking down again into the now empty glass. He glanced towards his liquor cabinet and thought for a moment.

He would need to restock by the time tonight was over.

"Ridiculous," He muttered darkly. "Our 'past?' Which one? The one where we were comrades for a few short weeks? Or the time before, where we nearly killed each other more times than I can remember." He huffed a humorless laugh. "What a brilliant plan."

Bright looked at him closely. "I don't like it anymore than you do. But aside from you, there's no one that knows him anymore. Not in the same way, at least. You may not believe it, but you're the best bet we have. I saw you two aboard the Argama together, at Dakar, and all throughout the One Year War. Some sort of understanding exists between you two."

A white hot flash of anger licked at Amuro's insides at the words coming from the man sitting opposite him. He and Char hardly knew each other. What was a few weeks of tolerating each other in comparison to the years of bitterness and hatred? What did it matter if they had reached an understanding towards the very end of their days aboard the Argama when Char's current policy of eco-terrorism and dictatorial rulership over Neo Zeon went against everything Amuro believed in? Everything they had seemingly promised each other?

No, he was not their best bet. It was more likely he would end up murdering the other man before the first month had passed, and where would their peace treaty be then? In the grave, six feet under along with the lives of countless of innocents.

There was nothing he could do. Nothing he could say to get through to Char anymore. Nothing he wanted to say to him either.

He grit his teeth, hands tightening on his glass.

Bright sighed again, this one just as heavy and resigned as the last. "The ceremony will be held in two weeks time. After that you'll join Char in the Principality of Zeon. You're... encouraged to stay near, for the first year, at least."

Amuro mulled over it silently for a moment before replying tonelessly "So I'm a prisoner again."

That earned him a stern glare, but one without any real malice. "That's not what I said."

"It's what you meant."

He heard Bright stand and felt a large hand land on his shoulder. "Please, Amuro. It won't be like before."

Amuro didn't respond, nor did he look up at Bright.

No. It'll be worse.

At his refusal to respond, at least verbally, Bright huffed. "It's set in stone. There's nothing more to be done."

He heard Bright collect his things and finally lifted his head to watch as the other man shrugged on his coat, hand stilling on the doorknob as he looked over his shoulder at Amruo's still seated figure.

"You're a fighter, always have been. You'll make it through this." He paused before continuing, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "Besides, you've kicked his ass before. There's no doubt in my mind if he gets out of line you can do it again."

With a nod and a solemn look in his eyes, Bright turned back towards the door and left, stepping into the chill night air.

Though the door was only open a few seconds at most, Amuro couldn't help feeling like the cold air swept into his house, creeping through the halls and lingering far longer than it should have.

-----

The wedding was arranged for a clear and crisp autumn day, and Amuro wasn't sure if to consider it a small mercy it was allowed to be held on Earth or instead view it as a mockery, that his last day on the planet for the foreseeable future was such a lovely one despite it being what felt like the definitive end of his life.

He refused a tuxedo or elaborate custom suit (both ever so gratefully offered by Londo Bell). He chose his mess dress uniform instead, the absolute closest he was to getting away with wearing his pilot suit which he would have preferred. He hoped he evoked the image of a soldier going off to battle, as opposed to a willing groom.

He doubted anyone else saw it that way, that he had essentially been drafted yet again.

At present he sat waiting in his private chamber for the ceremony to begin, a room that looked far too lavish and gaudy for his taste. In fact the whole venue was, he had surveyed the ornate hall in which his life would be soon sighed away before he has been herded to where he currently was, and found it distasteful. Large, marble walls and floors with golden streaks traversing said stone, tapering up into a domed stained glass ceiling, dozens of polished wood pews facing the alter where he would stand face to face with Char once again.

His stomach turned at the thought, and he swallowed down a lump in his throat.

Char, Casval, Édouard, Quattro.

He wondered who would stand opposite of him at the alter today.

"Amuro?"

He didn't need to turn around to recognize the hesitant voice of Fraw Bow calling out to him from the now open doorway of his chamber. She looked at him with the familiar, pinched expression of worry he was so accustomed to seeing on her face. All their time together growing up had taught him her tells well. He remained staring straight ahead, sitting stiffly with a look of resignation directed at the flowered wallpaper in front of him.

"Amuro, please," she tried again, a note of pleading in her tone this time. The click of her heels could be heard on the floor as she approached him, until he could sense her presence directly behind him. "Please, speak to me."

"There's not much to say, is there?" He replied in an irritated snap before he tempered himself. Fraw Bow was not at fault here. She did not deserve any of his ire just like how Bright did not deserve to be shot for being the messenger. He took a deep inhale before finally shifting in his chair so he could face his longtime friend. "Forgive me, Fraw Bow. I didn't... I didnt mean to lash out at you."

Her face was set in fond yet sad smile as she looked down at him, a slender hand going to run through his curls soothingly. He closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, exhaling yet again. This time he was considerably more comforted. "I could hardly blame you right now, even if you had meant to," she replied, pulling her hand back. Amuro opened his eyes and caught sight of the gold band on her ring finger and swallowed thickly. The reminder of Hayato and Katz stung at his heart, a burning and searing pain that branded their names on his heavy conscious.

He averted his eyes. Now wasn't the time.

"Still." He said somewhat lamely, unsure of what to say in response. He wasn't used to not being held accountable for his actions, but ever since the marriage was announced everyone who still remained in his life had been treating him like glass. As if this was any worse than the countless other atrocities he had been forced to endure.

it was, it was so much worse, he couldn't stand it and he wanted out, wanted out now

"Now, now," she said softly, hand moving to rest on her hip. "No need for that. You'll- you'll be fine." Her voice wavered only slightly, betraying her true feelings and doubts about the matter. Amuro sighed heavily upon hearing her voice crack but straightened up again in his seat.

"Alright. Alright then, Fraw." He said neutrally, not believing a word either one of them were saying. For the first time he cautioned a glance at the ornate clock situated above the entrance to his dressing room. Five minutes. Five minutes until he needed to leave this enclosed little piece of safety he was situated in.

[tickle-panile]

Mihawk time to smile!

Attention: tickle fic, sfw, no ship

Another fanfic

All the mugiwaras were throwing a surprise party for their captain, in celebration of his new reward of 3,000,000,000 beris.

Zoro wanted to invite Mihawk, Nami wanted to invite Boa Hancock and Usopp wanted to invite Shanks, Sanji insisted on inviting Coby.But Coby said he couldn't since he worked in the navy he couldn't risk it and Shanks didn't respond.

"Guys? Where is everyone?" Luffy asks himself, Then Luffy remembers that everyone went out to explore the island they were on but everyone said he was supposed to stay on the boat with Brook."Brook Do you know when everyone will come back?"

"my captain, I don't know but I can sing to pass the time, what do you think? Hohoho"With the thought in his head that he can't say what the others were really doing, he tried to entertain Luffy by singing but Luffy didn't seem to want that and went to the kitchen to get some meat.

Brook fulfilled his role now it was time to wait for the others to arrive

~1 hour later~

"Ok, Sanji, have you made the mountain of meat yet?" Nami asks while Robin stands with Luffy , "yes yes miss Nami" the snowflake said .

When everything is almost ready, the guests arrive,"look how good this party is" mihawk says with a common expression ,"obviously it has to be beautiful for Luffy, you despicable man"Boa Hancock arrives a little later listening to what the strongest swordsman said.

"Now that you've arrived, we're finishing the decorations, I know this party isn't a big deal but I hope you like it" Nami says greeting the two with a sad expression on her face,"Why do you look sad, miss?","You were the only ones who came well and Luffy might be sad about that""I understand" they both said at the same time.

~10 minutes later~

"He's coming, guys, it's now" Robin says, Luffy arrives in the main area of the ship and comes across a party at that moment everyone screams in surprise but Mihawk speaks without raising the volume of his voice.

"SURPRISE, CONGRATULATIONS ON THE NEW REWARD ""

Luffy loves the party and immediately went to eat while everyone went to have fun, Mihawk grabs a plate with some snacks and sits down to pass the time and relax.

"Hey, you're Mihawk right?"Boa Hancock asks with a serious expression "yes it's me, what do you need?"Without hesitation she said "you seem like you want to ruin Luffy's moment you didn't scream with excitement and now you're in your corner it seems like you don't like being here"He with a look of understanding but seriously because she was almost shouting at him for nothing "look, I understand but that's the way I am"

Zoro was passing by and went to talk to Mihawk, as he was already talking with Boa.

"hi miss, hi mihawk"

"Hello Zoro, how have you been?" Mihawk stops his argument to talk to Zoro, which irritates the woman even more.

"HEY ARE YOU IGNORING ME? YOU IDIOT"With that Zoro, who has already taken a chair and sat down next to his former mentor, and the older swordsman look at her.

Zoro says "Mihawk, what did you do to make her so stressed? Hahaha" poking him, Making him jump and her having an idea.

"I didn't do anything, Zoro-" he could barely finish saying that she spoke over "oh, if you're not going to show that the party is good so that Luffy can be happy, I'll make you laugh and have fun~"

The two were confused But before Hawkeye could ask what that meant, she came closer and started poking him.

"HEY- PFF heh no s-stopff" He didn't have time to react.

"Now where can I make you break, because you can't seem to hide your laughter very well"She said teasingly, as she poked his sides and belly.

Zoro didn't expect to see his former master not fighting her but This reminded him of the time he was training with him, and he and Perona tickled him.

"hahahahah nooooo ihihiit tihihihicklehhehehehe"

Zoro laughed when he saw Mihawk struggling but avoiding hurting Boa, and not stopping her.

"Don't you think it's better? You seem to be enjoying yourself" Boa Hancock says with a triumphant smile at him.

Mihawk was sitting on the chair but struggling so much he could break the chair, but he couldn't think straight since a pair of hands were scribbling on his belly and sides.

* thack * Oh shit, that's what the three thought when they heard the noise, the chair cracked but didn't break.

She immediately stopped the attack. "Wow, we almost ruined a chair, but I think you learned your lesson."

"I didn't lehehaharn anything from this... but now I'm going to get morehe drinks" He stood up and started walking even though his legs were shaking and his face was red.

"If he hasn't learned, I'll have to be tougher"Without thinking twice, she grabs his waist and pulls him close and the torment returns to him.

"hehehehey Whyhihihihy this?"

"Because you didn't learn your lesson." She said with a more playful tone than before.

Dracule Mihawk the best swordsman in the world was currently laughing like a child and his legs couldn't take it anymore.

"hahahahahahheheheheh stohoohhop ihihiit"

"Not now because I want to test one more place hahaha" she gave a slightly evil laugh.

Sanji had already seen what was happening for a while but he didn't believe what he was seeing.

"hahahahahahaboohhoa plehhahaase noohoh"

"Oh you turn red every time I get closer to your knee"

When he realized what was going to happen he didn't know how to stop it.He was red, his mouth was crooked and smiling, his eyes were tightly closed, his nose was wrinkled from the force he was using to keep his eyes closed waiting for what was to come....

Nothing.

The tickling stopped, everything was silent... but he felt like he could still be attacked so he remained in the same position.

Felt Boa's weight disappear,"Hey, how long are you going to stay like this? Hahaha" She spoke in a joking tone.

He opened his eyes and saw around him making him get hotter with embarrassment. EVERYONE AT THE PARTY WAS LOOKING AT HIM.

"hahahaahha I didn't expect that from you"Luffy let out his joy at seeing the swordsman in shame.

"Was he scared?" Nami confused

"I don't know haha I just know he's ticklish" Zoro explained leaving Mihawk even more embarrassed, if that was possible.

"This deserves another song hohoho" Brook cutting everyone's focus to return to the party.

"th-thank you" Dracule Mihawk says quietly to Brook for diverting everyone's attention

"Want some water, Mr.ticklish?" Zoro jokes

You shouldn't make fun of that, we both know you're ticklish too," Dracule said with an evil smile.

"But who is more sensitive?" Zoro retorts.

I don't know, I think we're tied, but I'll take the water hehe"

[madsworld15]

New Fic Alert! right by my side (Brian/Justin)

This fic is in answer to the prompt: hug (Prompt #14) [9/21 for me personally].

I wanted to do a fun little 5+1 for this particular prompt response. It ended up being a 6k+ fic...oops. I typically don't dedicate my fics to anyone, but I truly believe that @winderlylandchime will greatly enjoy this one (plus, my last post was a few lines from this.)

5 Times Brian Surprised Justin with a Hug +1 Time Justin Surprised Brian

1.

Justin sat solemnly as Principal Perkins stared at him sternly from across the desk. The young man knew it wouldn’t be a pleasant conversation after he’d been sent to the office for flipping off his teacher. Any other time, Justin and the principal would be having a conversation about his grades and high honors. How much his character exemplified the morals and traditions of St. James Academy.

Now, the principal was angry enough to spit fire. He was ranting about how Justin’s behavior was completely out of character. Justin rolled his eyes at that. Of course, it was out of character. Justin was tired of keeping quiet and just taking whatever bullshit got thrown at him. He was now old enough to know who he was supposed to be and what he believed in. None of which aligned with St. James’ homophobic policies.

“Mr. Taylor, it pains me to do this, but there must be consequences for your actions. If you’d shown even some ounce of remorse, I’d be willing to look the other way.”

Justin grits his teeth and balled his hands into fists. 

“What about what was said to me? Why isn’t Chris Hobbs sitting here, too?” Justin barely controlled his anger.

“Mr. Hobbs was not reported as saying anything out of turn.” Principal Perkins replied, rubbing his temple in frustration.

“Only because the teacher refused to acknowledge he said anything or harassed me,” Justin grumbled, slumping down in his chair.

“Regardless, I will have to suspend you for a week.” Perkins leaned back in his seat. 

Justin tried to object, but Perkins raised his hand to stop him. “I’m sorry, Mr. Taylor. My hands are tied.”

Justin stood up and angrily grabbed his school blazer off the back of his chair before flipping up his middle fingers at Principal Perkins as well. “And fuck you.”

He made his exit before Principal Perkins could add more days to his suspension. He was so angry his chest heaved with every breath he took. He knew he should go straight home to Debbie’s, but he found his feet directing him toward Brian’s office instead. The older man had never invited him here, but Justin knew where he worked because Brian had never kept it a secret.

Justin arrived at Brian’s office a half hour later. His anger hadn’t gone away, but now he was also upset. Justin’s eyes stung with tears he refused to let fall. Upon reaching the front desk, Justin realized Brian could easily refuse him. So, Justin gave his sunniest smile and put on the charm.

“I’m here to see Brian Kinney,” Justin informed the bored-looking young woman behind the desk.

“Do you have an appointment?” She looked up and almost laughed, “Not likely. Look, kid, this is a place of business. Run on home.”

Justin squared his shoulders, gave her a stern look, and repeated, “I’m here to see Brian Kinney.” 

With a roll of her eyes, the young woman picked up the phone receiver and dialed a few numbers.

“Hey, Cynthia. I have a teen boy here. He says he needs to see Brian Kinney.” She looked at Justin smugly while she listened to whatever Cynthia said in response.

Her smirk dropped as time passed, “Excuse me, what is your name?”

“Justin Taylor,” Justin responded with a fake smile.

A few moments later, the woman hung up the phone and rolled her eyes at him once more.

“Take the elevator to the left and up to the second floor. Mr. Kinney’s office is to the right of the elevators. You will check in with Cynthia, his assistant.”

Justin smiled and nodded at everything relayed to him. He then rushed off to find the elevator.

Once he was where the receptionist had directed him, Justin stood before a blonde woman with a stern face but mischievous eyes. She gave Justin the once-over and smirked.

“Oh, Brian has some real explaining to do about you.” She looked him up and down once more, her smile holding back a laugh.

“Mr. Kinney,” she said as she opened the door. Justin could hear Brian grumbling from beyond it and tell the woman not to call him that.

Cynthia's only response was, “You have a visitor.” Turning back to Justin, she told him, “Go on in.”

“I swear to god, Cyn, if it’s my mother, I will murder you when you least expect it.” Brian hollered out just as Justin came through the door and finally set eyes on the older man’s office.

“Not your mom.” Justin’s voice squeaked. He was grateful to see Brian, but now his nerves were back, and he was certain the older man would immediately dismiss him.

“Justin?” Brian choked out, the younger blond was shocked to learn Brian actually remembered his name.

“Surprise?” Justin bit his lip and shuffled his feet. Now that he was here, he wanted Brian to make all his hurt feelings better, but he also realized he’d made a mistake thinking the man would.

“What are you doing here?” Brian narrowed his eyes and gave Justin a calculated once-over. “What happened?”

Justin brought his gaze up to meet Brian’s, and what he found there surprised him enough that he let his walls down. Brian’s face, which was normally stony and stand-offish whenever they were interacting outside of sex, was soft and concerned.

“Shouldn’t you be in school?” Brian asked when Justin didn’t respond right away.

“I got kicked out.” Justin squeaked out before he felt the telltale sting of tears at the back of his eyes once more. He sniffed, “Bullshit rules about using foul language toward a teacher.”

Brian stood up and walked around his desk, leaning against the front of it. He addressed Justin, “What happened?”

His tone wasn’t accusatory or cruel. It was soft and gentle. It reminded Justin of the way Brian talked to him that first night they ever had sex. It was that alone that brought Justin’s tears leaking down his face. 

“Another student was harassing me and another student. I told him off for being homophobic, but the teacher only punished me. So, as I left the room, I told him, ‘the queer is leaving. The queer says fuck you.’ Then I turned and flipped him off. It earned me a one-way ticket to a week-long suspension.” Justin wiped away the tear tracks on his cheeks, trying to hide that he had even cried.

Brian didn’t say anything for the longest time. Then, without warning, he pushed off his desk and stepped into Justin’s personal bubble. Before Justin knew what was happening, Brian wrapped his arms around Justin and held him close. 

“You stood up for yourself. You should be proud.” Brian muttered against Justin’s temple, placed a kiss there, and then moved away.

Justin watched as Brian went back around his desk and sat down. He turned back to his computer as if Justin wasn’t actually there. Justin stood rooted to the spot. He still had more he wanted to get off his chest so he did.

“It’s just fucking bullshit. Chris Hobbs can harass me every day, and no one bats an eye, but I speak out and tell him to shut up, and I get punished. I’m just so tired of that school’s homophobic policies.”

“Yeah, well, soon you’ll graduate, and you won’t have to think about them anymore,” Brian replied without even looking at Justin. 

Feeling as though he’d been dismissed, Justin started back toward Brian’s office door. 

“If you don’t mind sticking around I can drive you to Debbie’s around 5,” Brian stated. This time, his eyes found Justin’s and stared him down.

The teen didn’t respond; instead, he went to Brian’s couch and plopped down. A smile played across his lips as he pulled out a book to read.

2.

Brian had said he’d only be gone for a couple of hours. Justin trusted him, but it was inching toward the end of the second hour. His skin started to crawl, and his chest tightened as he thought about all the possible reasons Brian could have for not being back yet.

The worst of which was that he was organizing a way to kick Justin out. After all, Brian didn’t want him here. He just took Justin in because he’d been injured, and Justin’s mom had asked the brunet to take him. Justin knew deep down that Brian wouldn’t have agreed to Justin moving in if he didn’t want it to happen. However, Justin’s brain was in fight or flight mode. He wasn’t thinking things through logically.

Justin looked around at the loft Brian had catered to fit his every whim. There wasn’t much furniture because the whole aesthetic was minimalist and modern. Brian loved having an artsy living space, though anytime Justin tried to tell him it was cold and pretentious, Brian simply waved him off as being uncultured. Right now, Justin wanted nothing more than to curl up on a comfy couch with a big fluffy blanket to block out the world and his intrusive thoughts. 

However, Brian’s loft had neither of those things. The closest Justin could find was Brian’s blanket on his bed, but even that was thin and fashionable. There was nothing about Brian’s setup that immediately cried comfort. As Justin struggled to breathe, he grasped for anything that would tell him he belonged there, that Brian wanted him to be there as much as Justin loved being there.

He stumbled into the bathroom in the hopes that a hot shower might ease the tension in his body, but his vision started to go out just as he reached the tiled floor. Justin grabbed for the towel that was “his” as his vision started to go black. At least this was something that was decidedly his in this space filled with Brian. Sure, it belonged to Brian, but this was Justin’s assigned towel.

Justin buried his face in the towel and tried to control his breathing. His vision was still dark and swimmy, but closing his eyes helped with that. He breathed in the mixed scent of his own shampoo and Brian’s natural scent that clung to everything in the loft. Having their scents mingled together on his towel helped ease Justin’s mind just a little.

A few minutes later, or maybe it was an hour, Justin couldn’t be sure; he felt the touch of someone’s hand on his shoulder. Justin pulled his head out of the towel and opened his eyes. After they adjusted to the brightness, Justin saw Brian’s concerned face swimming above him. A few blinks later, Brian’s whole body came into focus. The older man was looking Justin up and down with more concern on his face than Justin had ever seen before. 

All of Brian’s usual walls were gone, and in its place was probably the closest anyone had ever gotten to seeing the real Brian Kinney. Here was this man who acted aloof about Justin 9 times out of 10, only now he was so concerned he looked close to tears.

“Justin?” Brian’s voice came out unsteady and cracked.

“I’m fine.” Justin quickly reassured the older man. Seeing this vulnerability in him was unnerving, and Justin needed it to go away.

“You’re on the bathroom floor hugging a towel,” Brian observed, allowing his hand to move from Justin’s shoulder to cup his cheek instead.

“Just had a minor panic attack. I’m fine now.” Justin reassured Brian once more. This time he stood up to further prove how fine he was.

Brian scrambled to his full height and, without a word, pulled Justin against his chest. The older man wrapped his arms around the teen and positioned his head so that it leaned on Justin’s, providing comfort. Justin squeaked due to the unexpected contact but quickly wrapped his own arms around Brian’s back in return.

After a few moments, Brian broke their contact and steeled his features. Just as quickly as his walls had fallen, they were back. Justin didn’t dare ask the man about the meaning of the intimate gesture, but he did smile to himself once Brian turned and walked toward the bedroom.

3.

Justin had thought seeing Chris Hobbs would be the worst thing he’d ever have to endure now that he survived the bashing. Then, he had dinner with his father in the hopes that he could change his mind about paying for college. The meeting with his mom two days prior had been a wake-up call, but so had his later discussion with Brian. Justin was 18 now, and he needed to prove to the world that he could handle everything on his own. That he didn’t need adults to save him every time he turned around, especially not his boyfriend.

Boyfriend, god, if Brian heard him say that, he’d kick Justin to the curb faster than he’d have time to say anything. Justin shook himself as he looked left and right. He was standing just outside his father’s apartment, having left the disastrous dinner early, and now needed a ride back to Brian’s. It was a calm, warm evening, so if he walked to Brian’s, it wouldn’t be so terrible.

Taking a deep breath, Justin took off down the street, his mind focused on the dinner he’d just participated in. He could still remember a time when he would defend his father to anyone who would listen. Despite being against Justin’s sexuality, he never thought his father actually hated him specifically. It’s why Justin had insisted his new queer family understand his father meant well, if not a bit misguided. He’d kept insisting that Craig Taylor just needed some time with it, like his mom, and then he’d come around.

After tonight, Justin knew that was never going to happen. His father had all but spit on him and his disgusting lifestyle. All the while, he was shacking up and getting particularly cozy with the receptionist for his store. According to her, they’d been together a year. So, before Justin had come out and before the divorce. Fantastic.

“You want to judge my life choices, Dad? Why not look in a mirror?” Justin had practically screamed, realizing in that moment Brian had been right all along. He’d always be hurt by the man who called himself his dad.

“Don’t you dare compare our relationship to the devil worship that you get up to. At least I’m not some pervert.” His father had screamed at him, his eyes blazing and his cheeks red from anger.

“I came here tonight to see if you would be willing to reconsider my college tuition. But I can see that’s a mistake. You don’t care whether or not I go to college. Hell, you don’t even love me.”

Justin had left right after that in the vain hope that he could stop himself from getting upset. As Justin walked toward Liberty Avenue, he kept his eyes trained on his surroundings. He wanted to find a cab, knowing Brian’s loft was still a few miles away, but he also knew he needed to be aware of potential threats to his well-being. Before his bashing, he’d never thought twice about the people around him. Justin trusted that he fit in well enough to pass, but now, everything and everyone was a threat if he didn’t know or recognize them.

Twenty minutes later, Justin was begrudgingly sliding open the door to Brian’s loft. The lights were off except for the one over Brian’s bed, so Justin assumed the man was out for the night. After a quick glance around the space, Justin was able to determine his assumption was probably correct. His chest was tight, and his heart felt heavy. So, instead of cleaning up and texting Brian to find out where he was, Justin stripped off his clothes and crawled into bed. He pulled the covers up over his head and blocked out the world.

Not ten minutes later, Brian’s door slid open once more, signaling the older man’s return. He didn’t say anything as he walked in, and Justin remained under the blanket completely. His heart was still hurting over his father’s words, and he knew he had tears running down his face. He didn’t need to hear Brian tell him, once again, that he’d been foolish to see the good in his father. Justin was lying in a ball, which he tightened at the knowledge that Brian was now home.

After some time, Brian’s footsteps could be heard ascending the couple of steps to his bedroom area. Justin squeezed his eyes shut, thinking Brian wouldn’t bother him if he thought the blond was sleeping. Unfortunately, he forgot that Brian has this innate sense when something is wrong with Justin. Before he has time to even out his breathing, Justin’s cocoon of blankets is ripped off of him, exposing him to the world beyond his bubble.

A gentle touch forces Justin to roll over and look at Brian. He doesn’t want to, but he knows that Brian’s gentle touch will only turn into more touches until Justin gives him the attention he craves. So, Justin looked toward Brian, trying his best to hide the hurt that currently overwhelms him.

Brian’s lighthearted facial expression, clearly on the verge of teasing Justin about being in bed already, turns to mild concern the minute they make eye contact with each other. His hand moves from Justin’s arm to caress his cheek. Justin pushes away from the touch. He doesn’t need Brian’s pity or his concern. The older man had warned him for almost two years now that Craig Taylor would always disappoint him. He didn’t need Brian to remind him of that.

But, instead of the expected scoff or pity, Brian does something else entirely. Something he’s only been known to do on two other occasions. He pulled on Justin’s arm until the younger man was sitting up more. Then, he wrapped his arms around the blond and held him tightly to his chest. Brian’s hand goes up to cradle the back of Justin’s head, and he squeezes his arm to push Justin as close to his chest as humanly possible. 

Brian doesn’t usually do hugs, but Justin has found that when he is at his most vulnerable and hurt, Brian willingly drops his defenses and gives Justin what he needs, whether he’s willing to ask for it or not. Brian isn’t a hugger, but he will hug Justin if it means the younger man will feel more himself again.

“You were right. My dad’s an asshole.” Justin finally mutters, his face buried in Brian’s chest, the tears causing wet patches to appear on the fabric.

Brian doesn’t respond at first, instead, he tightens his grip and rubs his thumb against the back of Justin’s head. Then, he breathes and says, “I wish I wasn’t.”

4.

Justin ran all the way home. He couldn’t believe he’d actually let Cody convince him going after Chris Hobbs was a good idea. It was one thing to scare the guy, another entirely to actually attempt to kill him. Justin wished many times over the last few years that Chris Hobbs would just die, but he never wanted to be the person to make it happen.

He managed to make it to Brian’s loft and slammed the door open as his vision started to blur. At first, he thought it might be because of tears, but then soon realized it was the start of having another panic attack. He hadn’t had one this bad in ages. In fact, the last time Justin had well and truly freaked out like this had been in the months after his release from the hospital.

As he stood by the door and attempted to catch his breath and stop the panic attack from manifesting completely, he failed to see Brian sitting at the counter observing him. Justin leaned over, placing his elbows on his knees, and squeezed his eyes shut. Brian had warned him that spending time with Cody would lead him to trouble. Justin hated when Brian was right about anything, let alone decisions Justin would come to regret.

“Sunshine?” Brian’s voice floated to the surface, and Justin found himself able to look up.

He didn’t take his elbows off his knees or even attempt to straighten up. He just let his blue eyes make contact with Brian’s brown ones and hoped that the older man wouldn’t chide him for whatever he thought Justin had been up to. He tried again to take a deep breath, but the tightness in his chest persisted, and refused to allow anything more than a small gasp. Justin found himself crumpling to the floor and wrapping his body up into a ball. Only then did he let the tears flow.

Brian jumped from his chair and immediately crouched on the floor to get as close to Justin as he could. Justin closed his eyes and tucked his chin against his chest as the blackness came and took over his every thought. The panic had settled in, and there was nothing more he could do than wait it out. To make matters even worse, Justin’s right hand started to spasm and curl on itself. His neurologist had recently told him that undue stress could trigger an episode, and he was right.

Despite the blackness of his panic and the dullness of his senses, Justin could feel Brian’s hand reach out and grab Justin’s spasming hand. The man’s gentle touches not only soothed the tight tendons but somehow seeped into Justin’s brain as well. The tightness in his chest started to subside, and Justin could feel his senses coming back online.

Taking his first deep breath since before he’d run to Brian’s, Justin was able to open his eyes – still wet with tears – and look up at Brian. The brunet’s face was crumpled with concern and heartbreak at the sight of Justin. Justin wanted to reach out and smooth out Brian’s worry lines, but his body was still heavy, and he couldn’t find it in him to move. 

Instead, Brian moved his body for him. The older man wrapped his arm around Justin’s back and pulled him up into a sitting position while leaning on Brian for strength. They didn’t say anything to each other. Justin was afraid to utter what he’d done out loud, and Brian was respectful enough not to ask.

Soon enough, Justin could feel all his muscles loosening up and so he started to move to get up off the floor. He wiped away the tear tracks from his cheeks and refused to make eye contact with Brian. As he stood up, Brian was right there at his elbow, a gentle hand there to provide support should Justin need it. He didn’t, and feeling embarrassed by his reaction, Justin put as much space between himself and his partner as he could.

“Once again, you were right.” Justin finally muttered, still not looking at Brian. He couldn’t bear to see the hurt or sympathy the man’s face probably still contained.

“Am I supposed to know what you are referring to?” Brian’s voice came out quiet. Justin quickly glanced at him to see he was biting his bottom lip and looking toward Justin, deeply concerned.

“Cody. He was nothing but trouble.” Justin shrugged, staring at his feet. 

Before he knew it, Brian had enveloped Justin in the biggest, tightest hug to date. Brian would never admit it out loud, but Justin knew the man had been worried about him the last few weeks. Justin’s anger about his bashing had been all-consuming and hadn’t allowed him to listen when Brian told him there were more productive ways to put the incident behind him. Justin grabbed at Brian’s back, holding on for dear life. He hadn’t expected his partner to hug him, but he wasn’t upset that it was happening.

Then, Brian surprised Justin even further by opening his mouth and letting out a deep sigh, “I was so fucking worried about you.”

Justin didn’t need to say the “I know” out loud. Instead, he leaned even further into the hug and let Brian hold onto him as long as the man needed to feel regulated again. Justin needed the hug desperately, but he knew that secretly, Brian needed it too.

5.

Justin had been living in New York City for almost a year now. He loved it here. Brooklyn was the perfect mix of artist communities and young people to keep him inspired and alive. When he had first moved, he’d been worried that he’d never feel at home in a city its size. However, the universe quickly showed him that his talents were worth something and that he could make a nice little life for himself here.

Brian came to visit Justin about once a month and they talked on the phone at least once a week otherwise. Sometimes, Brian even emailed him inappropriate pictures to convince Justin it was time they did a video call together. The older man had recently started talking about expanding Kinnetik to New York City, but no concrete plans had been made. So, Justin was convinced it wasn’t going to happen.

After all, in the almost 6 years he had known Brian, the man had talked about New York on numerous occasions but never followed through on actually moving there. Justin wasn’t naive enough to believe that he’d be a big enough reason to get Brian to move to the city that never sleeps. Sure, they’d been together off and on for many years, but that didn’t mean Brian was going to uproot his life for the blond.

Then, Justin was walking home from his job at a 5-star restaurant one night, and everything changed. He hated the job, but it helped him pay his bills and allowed him to paint and draw at his own pace, not the fast pace of the art world. He was walking along his block, having gotten off the subway two blocks down from his apartment, when out of nowhere, a person grabbed him. Justin panicked, and his brain locked up. He couldn’t move or even fight back. 

As the person punched him in the stomach and made a grab for his jacket pocket, where he held his wallet, Justin’s cell phone rang. He scrambled to grab it and answer it, but his assailant knocked it from his hand before Justin could actually say anything to whoever was on the other line. Justin’s attacker gave him a swift kick to the knees and finally managed to grab Justin’s wallet. They opened it and took out Justin’s tips from the night and his credit card before throwing the wallet down and running away. Justin groaned from his spot on the pavement. 

His head was throbbing from where the attacker had given him another kick to the head before leaving him. Justin could hear Brian’s panicked voice on the other end of the phone calling out his name. Just before he blacked out, Justin mumbled, “Help me.”

Justin woke up to bright lights that hurt his retinas. He groaned and felt a pull on one of his arms and a heavy weight on the other. Looking down, he was able to see that there was an IV attached to his left arm, and a person was lying on his other arm, grasping his hand. His head was throbbing incessantly to the point that he felt nauseous. In fact, his mouth suddenly started salivating, and his gut started to roll. Shit, he was going to vomit. 

Justin leaned over the far side of the bed and vomited. After his stomach stopped lurching, he was able to lean back on his pillows once more. Justin knew he was in the hospital and that his head hurt. He just wasn’t exactly sure why. He looked around the room for some help with the vomit that now lay puddled on the floor next to his bed. The movement jostled the person lying on his other arm, and Justin came face to face with Brian.

The man was still sleep-fogged, but his eyes were sad and distraught. Justin tried to sit up more, but the pounding in his head got worse, and the nausea returned, so he laid back down. He took deep breaths through his nose with his eyes closed in order to prevent himself from vomiting again.

“Where’s the nurse?” Justin finally croaked, allowing his eyes to open again slowly.

“Are you okay? Do you need anything?” Brian started to physically check him over for any problems. 

Justin sighed, “Bri, I’m fine. I just vomited over the side of the bed because of my head.”

Brian stopped moving and looked Justin in the eyes. His hand landed on Justin’s cheek, and he caressed it softly with his thumb.

“I can page someone,” Brian whispered, using his other hand to press the button. “When you didn’t respond over the phone, I freaked out.”

“Clearly. You’re here.” Justin chuckled, then groaned when the action made his abdomen and chest hurt. “Jesus, what the fuck happened?”

“You don’t remember?” Brian looked extremely concerned again. “Fuck.”

“No, did I fall and hit my head? Is that why I’m here?” Justin wracked his brain, trying to find even the faintest of memories about what happened.

“You were walking home when someone attacked you. Luckily, not long after you passed out, someone from your building happened by and called 9-1-1. I was on the phone with you when it happened, so I just hopped on the first plane I could.” Brian’s tone was kind, gentle, and filled with worry.

“How long was I out?” Justin was trying to make sense of everything. Tonight wasn’t Brian’s typical night to call. He knew Justin’s work schedule and never called him on nights he worked.

“You’ve been unconscious for about 4 hours,” Brian responded. He rubbed his hand across his mouth, pulling his contact with Justin. “Doctors said that we wouldn’t know if the injury to your head would have damaging effects until you woke up.”

Justin closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to sit up once more. This time, his head didn’t pound, his vision didn’t swim, and his stomach stayed calm. He took that as a win and smiled over at Brian. 

“I’m sorry to worry you.” 

Brian licked his lips and grabbed Justin’s hand, “Sorry is bullshit.”

Suddenly, the door opened and in walked a nurse. She smiled at Justin and moved to look over his vitals on the monitor. As she approached the far side of his bed to check the IV medication, she found the puddle of vomit.

“I see you made a mess of things. Not to worry. You’ve had a concussion. Vomiting is normal.”

Justin squeezed Brian’s hand, which was still in his. Brian took the opportunity to ask a couple of questions. 

“Since he’s awake, does that mean everything is fine?” Based on how he phrased things, Justin could assume Brian had asked about his brain health multiple times over the past few hours.

“I’ll let the doctor come in and answer that question. But, based on your vitals, Mr. Taylor, I would say you are one lucky young man.” She gave him a smile and then leaned over to wipe up the mess on the floor.

Justin turned his focus to Brian. He hadn’t seen the man in person for almost three weeks, and in that time, he’d somehow become more haggard-looking and tired. Or maybe that was all a result of the last few hours. Justin was sure his being unconscious in the hospital with a head injury wasn’t a road Brian had wished to revisit. 

“I’m fine. Brian, I promise. I’m okay.” Justin muttered as the room became just the two of them again.

“You could’ve died. The whole flight, I could hardly breathe, not knowing what I was going to arrive to.” Brian’s breath came out choppy and short. He was close to hyperventilating. “Then getting here and finding out your attacker kicked you in the head?”

Justin reached across himself and placed his other hand on top of their joined ones. Brian sniffed and then looked at Justin, tears in his eyes. “Justin, I couldn’t bear the thought…”

He stopped, and instead of trying to finish his thought, Brian leaned forward and wrapped Justin up in his arms. He kissed the side of Justin’s neck and let a few tears settle on Justin’s shoulder. Justin couldn’t fully wrap his left arm around Brian due to the IV, but he took his right one and made sure the man knew he was there and he was okay.

“Brian,” Justin whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Justin. I need you to be safe.”

Brian’s final words rocked Justin to his core. Sure, he’d known that Brian loved him and had done so for years, but the man had never vulnerably stated how much he needed Justin. This was new.

+1

Brian hated hospitals, with a passion of a thousand burning suns. Nothing good ever came out of a hospital. That’s not true. There was one instance in his life when he went to the hospital, and something good happened. The day Gus was born.

Otherwise, Brian hated hospitals. He’d spent quite some time at Alleghany General when Justin was bashed, then again when Michael was injured in the Babylon bombing. Then there was the whole cancer journey where he spent most of 3 months visiting the hospital just so the doctors could fry his balls. Not to mention the situation with Justin two years ago when he got mugged and almost died.

Now, Brian was pacing the hallway of the hospital in Toronto, waiting for any news on Gus and Lindsay’s condition. They had been driving home from Gus’ hockey tournament when they were hit by a drunk driver. Melanie had called Brian, crying hysterically, and he had gotten on the first flight he could. It had been a few hours now, and there still wasn’t any news. 

Justin approached him and handed him a cup filled with crappy machine-dispensed coffee. Brian gave him a forced smile and resumed his pacing. Justin stood to the side and watched Brian move. The older man knew the blond wanted to do something more to help Brian, but they both knew that nothing could speed up their waiting.

Another hour passed without any news when suddenly a doctor appeared. She looked exhausted but hopeful. Brian stopped his pacing, and Justin came to stand next to him. The doctor asked which of them was Lindsay Peterson’s next of kin. Melanie raised her hand and stepped forward, stating she was Lindsay’s wife. She glanced toward Brian and subtly motioned that he could stand with her.

Brian and Justin held hands as they approached the doctor to hear the update. She started off only talking about Lindsay.

“Ma’am, your wife sustained crush injuries due to being squished up against the dashboard in the accident. Her legs were crushed, which is why we had to go in surgically. Lindsay made it through surgery just fine, but we won’t know how much her mobility will be affected until she wakes up.” The doctor concluded with a tight smile. “We are cautiously optimistic about her prognosis.”

“What about her son, Gus?” Brian cut in, his fingers squeezing Justin’s that much harder. The doctor had no way of knowing, and Melanie probably didn’t notice, but Justin knew that Brian was barely holding onto his sanity at this point.

“Gus’ injuries were a lot more catastrophic. Unfortunately, he was crushed similarly to Lindsay, but from the backseat. And since he is just a child, his bones broke more easily. There was much more internal damage. We went in and started to do some damage control, but with the amount of bleeding, we had to stop and give his body time to recover.” The doctor reached out and placed a comforting hand on both Melanie and Brian’s shoulders. “I wish the news was better for both of them.”

She turned around and started to walk away, but Brian called her back.

“Can I see him?” Brian’s voice was broken and pleading.

“He’s in the PICU. Visiting hours are from 9 am to 4 pm. You can see him in a few hours.” She looked apologetic, but Brian didn’t want to hear it.

“He’s barely 8 years old! I’m his father. You have to let me see him!” Brian took a step toward her menacingly.

Justin grabbed him and pulled him back. “Brian, relax. It’ll be 9 am in a few hours. Let the doctors do their job.”

Brian didn’t know how to respond. He was numb. Gus, his beautiful, energetic son, might die. How was that even fair? Brian was a dick to people most of his life, and yet he got to survive cancer. Now, Gus, who’d never harmed another person in his life and was the epitome of kindness, might die before he even got to experience life. Brian was angry. 

He pulled away from Justin completely and walked toward the closest exit. He needed to take a step outside and get some fresh air. It didn’t matter to him that it was the middle of November and freezing. He needed the sharp, cold air because he deserved to be in pain, not Gus. Brian felt his breath catch in his chest, and his lungs started to feel like they were filled with water. His vision started to narrow. He couldn’t stop whatever this was, and it freaked him out even more. 

Brian lashed out, screaming and kicking the ground. He was 37 years old and wanted nothing more than to be in the hospital instead of Gus. Just as his chest tightened to the point he could hardly pull any air in, warm arms wrapped themselves around him. All of a sudden, his face was met with a plump polyester jacket that was cold at first but soon warmed up thanks to Brian’s own body heat. His eyes closed, and he let out the first sob.

“Shh. Brian, it’s okay.” Justin’s voice whispered in his ear as his hand cradled the back of Brian’s head and rubbed comforting circles to the back of it.

Brian continued to sob; he’d never allowed himself to break down this much before. Even when Justin had been in the hospital on the edge of dying. Back then, Brian hid behind extremely thick walls and never dared to do more than let a few tears stream quietly down his face. He’d been just as devastated back then as he was now. The only difference was years of Justin’s love and steadfast loyalty showing him he had room to be vulnerable without being judged. 

A few moments later, Brian was able to compose himself and pulled back from Justin a bit, “What was that for?”

Justin shrugged and smiled, “I figured you could use a hug. You aren’t alone, Brian. And Gus is going to pull through. I just know it.”

“You can’t know that,” Brian admitted, searching Justin’s face for some kind of validation of his claim.

“Sure I can. I did.” Justin gave Brian one of his dazzling smiles and then leaned over to give the man a kiss on his lips. “Gus is resilient because he has three of the strongest people I know as his parents.”

“Four.” Brian corrected him. “You’re pretty strong yourself.”

[munsonsduchess]

Merry Christmas Everyone

summary: it's christmas 1988 in hawkins and you and eddie have the best family around w/c: 2,196 warnings: nothing but a little fluff a/n: i just really love the idea of found family and of eddie being adopted into the 'family' at large and everyone just being there for one and other (also yeah I went to see violent night and David Harbour as Santa well. I have thoughts)

if you like this fic why not reblog it so others can read and enjoy it as well?

this is part eight of the god and goddess of hellfire, the rest can be found in my masterlist

(moodboard by me)

It's the coldest day of the year so far when Wayne calls up and asks if you and Rose will help him with this Christmas shopping. His shifts at the plant have been erratic as of late and he hasn't really had the time to get out much and he could really use your help. Of course you agreed instantly and so, bundling Rose up in her little snowsuit that made her look more like a starfish than a one and a half year old you waited for Wayne to come by in his truck. 

The mall was as busy as you'd ever seen it when you arrived, Wayne almost looked like he was having second thoughts but you'd quickly talked him into getting out of the truck, 

"We'll make it super quick and then you can come back to the house for coffee. Eddie'll be home by then and I know Miss Rosie would love to spend some time with her grandpa" 

Rose cooed happily as you handed her off to Wayne, you knew he had a soft spot for your daughter and especially so when you called him her grandpa,

"Well if it's for Rose" he grinned down at the little girl who scrunched her nose up and continued to spit bubbles, "alright, I survived Vietnam so how bad can it be really?" 

You didn't need to answer as the second you both entered the double doors you were hit with an onslaught of bodies and excessive corporate cheer. Nevertheless you moved with as much purpose as you could hitting up all the stores you thought Wayne might want to get gifts from, you didn't want to be there longer than necessary when it was so busy.

Along the way you'd spotted the Mall Santa and the line of kids waiting to see him. Rose had really only been six months old last christmas and you hadn't even thought of bringing her to see Santa when she was so little but this year could be different. 

You ran the idea past Wayne since it had been his idea to come shopping, if he didn't want to stay for too long today then you could come another time, or wait another year until Rose was two. She wouldn't really know the difference after all, even if it would be something to hold onto when she was older. Her first visit to Santa with Mommy and Grandpa Wayne,

"I think it's a good idea. I don't mind waiting much and I figure I've got everything I need now anyhow" Wayne had said, he held up his few little bags with a smile, "I reckon we've got time" 

"You hear that Rose? You're gonna meet Santa!" Rose responded with about as much enthusiasm as you expected from a one and a half year old which, well it was better than nothing.

You and Wayne spent your time in the queue chatting and catching up, it was hard for him to be around all the time and he was considering retiring soon. Your parents had come home for the holidays and had been talking to him about how much they enjoyed their retirement and it wasn't like he was getting any younger, in his own words, so retirement might not be the worst thing out there. 

When it was finally your turn you'd taken Rose's snowsuit off and handed it to Wayne while you took Rose to sit on Santa's lap, you had no idea who'd been volunteered to do it this year but Rose took one look at the man and began screaming her little head off, red in the face, bawling, she did not want to go anywhere near santa. All you could do is apologise, grab her snowsuit and leave. 

Oddly enough once you were back outside in the truck the tears and the screaming stopped and Rose settled herself into the carseat before promptly falling asleep,

"Now what do you think that was all about?" you asked Wayne when you'd gotten back on the road, 

"Beats me" he'd shrugged, "alls i know is she did not like that fella one bit" 

You took Rose home and let her nap a little while longer until Eddie came home and you relayed the story to him,

"Maybe she was scared? Of like his beard or something?" he'd said, "or there were too many people?" 

"Yeah maybe" 

»»————-　✼　————-««

Later that evening everyone had convened around at Steve's place for a little Christmas Party, since his folks had split up and neither one of them wanted the house in Hawkins, it had just gone to Steve who now mostly just kept the house as somewhere for friends and family. There was rarely a day the house was empty. The kids were usually over after school or on the weekends badgering Steve to take them somewhere, with Hellfire banned from the high school after spring break from hell Steve's place had become the go to spot for game nights now as well. Eddie didn't DM as much but he was more than happy to let Will be in charge and had sort of taken the younger Byers under his wing in terms of DMing. In a lot of ways being together with everyone felt a lot like belonging, something both you and Eddie had wanted so desperately in your younger years.

You were talking with Steve about what had happened while Eddie chased Dustin and Mike around the house yelling at them about something 'sacrilegious' and Steve screwed his face up in thought,

"I know Hop did Santa a few years ago in the community centre for the kids, you should ask him if he's ever had anything like that happen" he said, "maybe he could tell you what happened" 

"That's not a bad idea. I spoke to my mom about it on the phone earlier and she said Rose was maybe just making strange, babies do it and it's completely random" 

"Yeah maybe - HEY! What did I say about breaking shit?" Steve left your conversation as your overly excitable labrador of a husband and the teens he had been chasing around the house almost caused some of Steve's carefully hung pictures to fall from their spot on the wall. So you instead sought ought the other girls who had hidden away in the kitchen, Nancy had seemingly set up a little manicure station and had already done Max and Erica and was now patiently wiping her brush on the bottle while she painted El's nails a deep blue,

"If I'd known the real party was in here I would have ditched the zoo sooner" you laughed, Robin handed you a beer from the fridge and you thanked her, "remind me again who the actual teenagers are?" 

"I don't think Eddie counts, he's more like an overly excitable puppy" Robin said, "he kind of looks like a cocker spaniel don't you think?" 

"It's the hair" you agreed, "he only lets me cut his bangs for him when he literally starts pinning them up so he can see anything" 

"Oh hey Nance when you have a second let me pick your brain, you've got a kid sister and Rose was not happy at the mall today so I wonder if Holly did anything like that when she was a baby" 

You spent the rest of the evening chatting with the girls and eventually letting Max practise painting your nails, she was still getting used to anything that required fine motor skills but her physical therapist said she was making great progress. Nancy told you that no Holly had been overjoyed to see Santa in the mall when she was a baby, still is to this day although she only has a few more years of believing in Santa really. 

After the party wrapped up you and Nancy split the kids up between your cars to ferry off home. Wishing all the parents Merry Christmas when they came out to see who had taken their child home, it wouldn't be long now until some of them started getting their learners permit and that was a terrifying thought really, especially since Eddie had promised to teach Dustin how to drive. Dustin behind the wheel of a car was a mildly terrifying thought for some reason. 

»»————-　✼　————-««

A couple days after the party at Steve's you'd been talking to your mom again and she'd suggested talking to Joyce and Hopper about his stint as Santa in the community centre, according to Joyce the kids had just loved him especially since Steve had been there as his helper elf something you did not know about but fully intended to use to tease the crap out of Steve. 

"Why don't you and Rose and Eddie come over on Christmas Eve? We'll invite everyone around and have a little get together before the big day" Joyce had said, "with Nancy and Jon going back to college after the holidays it'll be nice to have everyone together you know?" 

"That sounds great Joyce we'd love to come"

It still caught you even after two years how welcoming everyone had been of you and Eddie, how they'd folded you both into the family and made you feel loved and accepted. Something neither of you had ever felt from Hawkins at large, your little group of weirdos in school, your parents and Eddie's Uncle Wayne were the only ones who ever really accepted you both and now to be part of something so wonderful like this made you stop sometimes and think about just how lucky you both were. 

Which is where you found yourself on Christmas Eve, sitting on the couch in Joyce's while she and your Mom fussed over Rose and your Dad talked to Eddie about his tattooing, he'd come a long way and they were letting him tattoo people now, to the point that he was getting repeat customers and you were both making more than enough money to support yourselves and Rose without needing to dip into your government hush money except for emergencies. 

You were so wrapped up in the domesticity of it all that you didn't notice both Hopper and Steve were missing until Joyce called out to everyone that it was 'time' and to gather around the armchair in the den. You and Eddie had exchanged confused looks but followed the crowd, only to see Hopper dressed as Santa sat in the armchair and a mildly embarrassed Steve stood next to him a rendition of an elf outfit complete with little bells, 

"We thought we'd bring Santa to you" your mom explained at your confused look, "when you told me about Rose being scared in the mall and Joyce reminded me that Jim had been Santa once for the kiddos we thought we'd do it this way" 

"Mom? What?" you were so blown away, they'd all come together to do this for you. For no other reason than kindness, 

"So where is the little lady?" Hop, Santa, asked in a lower register of voice. Joyce handed you back Rose and pushed you and Eddie forward, "ah there she is" 

You didn't know what to do but Rose, apparently recognising Hopper, made little grabby hands at him and you set her down on his lap, she didn't cry or scream or make a fuss at all just giggled whenever Steve moved closer and his outfit jingled. 

Hop went through the whole charade, asking her if she'd been good this year, did she listen to Mommy and Daddy, what did she want for Christmas. Never once did anyone speak up or make a comment about how strange it was that all this was happening in the den of the Byers Hopper house and not somewhere else. 

When Santa had apparently gotten the answers he wanted he told his 'elf' to bring both you and Eddie in so you could get your photograph taken. Sure enough there was Jonathan with his camera and a little toy to grab Rose's attention. Once all was said and done and you'd taken Rose back, Jonathan went off to develop the pictures in his dark room and Steve seemed to sag with relief, 

"I only did this because Wayne said you were bummed that Rose didn't like the Santa at the mall, not a word about this outfit ever" 

Eddie was just as stunned as you were apparently because he just nodded mutely and Steve walked off to get changed again. Even Hop seemed to be done with the whole thing and grumbled his way off into the kitchen about the things he gets talked into for family. 

You couldn't quite believe this was really happening. It seemed that Joyce had picked up on everything and came over with a smile pulling both you and Eddie into a hug,

"Merry Christmas kids" 

You and Eddie smiled at each other. You'd really struck gold here, this was without a doubt the best Christmas either of you had ever experienced and you were both so glad to be raising your daughter in such a loving family. 

It really was a Merry Christmas. 

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