#to make him help us do renovations LMAO

[canongf]

How are things with Eddie doing? Has he been keeping you busy? —Nic

we've been keeping EACH OTHER busy, @me-myself-and-my-fos!!!

we've got all sorts of things going on and all sorts of things to do!!! i feel like we haven't stopped running lately!!! but we're doing it for each other, trying to make each other proud and build a life together, and it just makes it extra special when we climb into bed together at night and cuddle because it feels like we've earned it!!! 🖤

[catastrxblues]

—

[temporarywelcome]

Devil's Night, 1946 - James Patrick March

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: Many years have passed since you and March have split up, meeting again in the Hotel Cortez when you need him to do a simple task he's been procrastinating on for years... distractions happen

CW: smut, porn with WAY too much plot, fingering, angry sex, p in v, possessive!james, dom!james (kinda), sub!reader (kinda), a slap to the cooter

A/N: they're both vampires it's mentioned like twice it really doesn't matter lmao. Pretend women have some more rights in 1946. I WAS SUPPOSED TO POST THIS ON HIS BDAY BUT ALAS... life.

________

The Hotel Cortez hasn’t changed in the slightest since the last time she saw it.

It still was bustling with guests and patrons, with loud chatter at the bar and silent gossiping in the sitting area. There was a couple seated in one of the love seats, holding hands, whispering sweet nothings into each other’s ears.

The sight made Y/N grimace. 

It reminded her of how things used to be. How things were between Y/N and James Patrick March, the owner of the establishment. They were practically glued at the hip, her painted black nails always gazing his skin, his hand always firmly on her lower back. Always together. In love.

That was long in the past. 

Striding towards the front desk, Y/N eyed the little receptionist up and down, “Hello, is Mr. March in tonight?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the receptionist, her name tag reading Laura, replied. “He’s currently in a meeting in his office. How may I help you?”

“I wish to see him. Now,” 

Laura raised a brow, awkwardly clearing her throat, “He’s in his meeting, ma’am, he might take some time. If you’re in a rush, you can write him a message?”

Y/N rolled her eyes in annoyance, lips curling into a sneer, “Tell him to wrap it up. His wife would like to speak to him,”

____

Within minutes, Laura was ushering her into the office of James Patrick March. 

Like Y/N expected, as soon as James was aware of her presence, he had kicked everyone out of his office, eager to see her. He was seated at his desk, a cigar between two long fingers, wearing his usual white button down, black suspenders, dress pants, and shoes combo. To accompany it was his carefully gelled hair. Y/N remembered doing it for him every morning, a little bonding experience the two of you used to have. 

“It’s been a long time, my dear,” he finally said after a moment, his usual James March smirk appearing on his annoyingly handsome face, “I was beginning to miss you,”

“Hello, James,” Y/N replied, making no move to step closer to him, “It has been a very long time,”

“You haven’t aged a bit since the last time I saw you, dearest,” he complimented, rising up from his seat, “Just as ravishing as ever,”

“How can I age, James? You took that from me,” Y/N laughed bitterly. She adjusted her large black fur coat, eyeing the room. It was practically the same as before, “It’s been twenty years, James. Possibly time to renovate,”

“You’ve always been so kind, darling,” he strode towards her, taking her hand, “Now how may I assist you?” he brought her hand to his lips, pressing a sweet kiss to her knuckles. 

“Take a guess,” she snatched her hand back, slipping a hand into her designer purse and pulling out a neatly piled stack of papers. She walked to his desk, and being, well, a man, James’ eyes travelled to her ass, admiring the way her tight black dess esentuated her curves. He was snapped out of his thoughts when she slammed the papers down ont the desk. “Sign the papers,”

“Excuse me?” 

She looked at him over her shoulder, “Sign the damn papers,”

“What papers? I believe I don’t know what you speak of, my love,” he placed his finished cigar in an ash tray.

“Cut the act, James,” Y/N hissed, taking a pen from his desk. She turned to face him, holding it up, “It’s been twenty years. What’s the point of doing this any more?”

“Doing what?”

“James,” she clenched her fists, “It’s been twenty years! I want a fucking divorce!”

A laugh left him, a dark chuckle, “That’s what this is about? The silly divorce? And for a second I thought you missed me,” he opened up a cabinet and grabbed a bottle of scotch and two glasses, “You came to me on this day just to harrass me? On such a special day?”

“Special day?” she scoffed, “What’s so special about it?”

“Oh, my dear,” he brought an arm around her, leaning in,” It’s Devil’s Night,” he whispered into her ear, breath tickling her skin. 

“Ugh,” she rolled her eyes, “I remember. However, I don’t give a damn. Just sign the papers and I’ll be out of your hair,” 

“But I don’t want you to go,”

“But I want to go,” she shot back.

James shook his head, taking a drag of his cigar, “You really want to end a twenty year marriage like this?”

Y/N barked out a laugh, “We were only together for a month of it,”

“Yes, till you left me,” he snapped, sudden venom in his tone, “You didn’t even say goodbye. Didn’t leave even a note. Just some blasted divorce papers.”

“So you did get them?” she mused, digging into her bag and plucking out a cigarette, bringing it to her lips.  Despite his anger, James still immediately brought his lighter to her cigarette, like he always did when they were together. She glared at him, dropping her lighter back into her purse and taking a puff, “From that letter you sent fifteen years ago, I was quite confused.”

“Ah, what did I write in that letter again?” 

“Hm,” she pretended to think, “First, I had wrote you telling you to sign the damn papers. You then wrote back saying you never got any papers. You said I would just have to meet with you to sort this out.”

“And you never did,” he pointed out the obvious, politely holding out a glass of scotch for her, which she dd not take, “So why now? Why not continue on with how things have been?” 

“Because I don’t want to!”

“Well why?” he pressed, stepping forward, “What’s so different now than fifteen years ago? Ten years ago? One year ago? What’s so different? What is so-?”

“I’m engaged!” 

There went the scotch.

It fell from his grasp immediately, the glass shattering onto the floor like little puzzle pieces, “...Excuse me?”

Y/N groaned, holding up her left hand, revealing an golden engagment ring with a modest diamond, “I’m engaged,”

James gripped her wrist, examining the ring closely, “How pathetic! You don’t even like gold, you love silver. And this diamond! It’s practically microscopic! How could you settle for a man that not only can’t tell your taste but is poor?”

She rolled her eyes, “How materialistic, James,”

“It’s true! It doesn’t even compare to to the ring I proposed to you with,” To Y/N’s surprise, James yanked up his necklace, revealing the charm that was neatly tucked under his dress shirt. Two rings, one silver with a dark trim and a comically large ruby in the middle, a diamond on either side. The other ring was more modest, still silver, with small diamonds embedded into it. Her engagement and wedding ring. 

“You… you kept the rings?”

“Of course I kept the damn rings!” he scoffed, raising his left hand now. He was still wearing his wedding ring. “Of course I kept the only remembrance I had of the wife who left me!” 

“You turned me into a damn vampire!” she shot back, shoving him angrily, “Did you expect me to be happy with you?” 

“I wanted us to spend eternity together-”

“I didn’t even know you were a vampire!” she shot back, “And you just turned me without even asking me! F-Forcing me to drink your blood, I thought it was some devilish ritual!”

“It was practically a ritual to declare our love!” 

Y/N rolled her eyes, “Yeah, I felt so loved then. I was terrified! I didn’t know what you were going to do! You… You could have been planning some sacrifice or God knows what, I-”

His lips were then on hers, his body pushing hers against the desk. She gasped, feeling the sharp sting of the hard wood hitting her back. His hands went firmly on her hips, blunt nails digging into her flesh as he kissed her hungrily, her burgundy lipstick smearing all over both of their lips. 

She should have pushed him away. She really should have. Should have pushed him away and just fucking kill him to end this nonsense once and for all, but she couldn’t. Instead, her arms wrapped around his neck, kissing him back just as feverishly. 

“You made me wait twenty years for you,” he growled, lips leaving hers to find her jaw, then her neck, kissing and sucking on the skin with need. “Twenty years without you,”

“N-Not like you missed me,” she panted, fingers playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck. 

“How could you say such a thing? I have been patiently waiting. Have you ever seen any reports of the famous James March with a new mistress?” He tugged up her ebony dress till it was at her waist, pushing her onto the desk. He plucked the cigarette out of her shaking hand and discarded it into the ashtray. 

“Well, no-”

“Because there has not been any.” He said firmly, beginning to rub her through her lace panties. She whined out, grip on his hair tightening. “I have not touched a single other woman in twenty years while you've gone around whoring it up with all these other men who mean nothing compared to me,”

James took it upon himself to relieve her of her undergarments, his large fingers rubbing her swollen clit in tight circles, “Well? Who is he? Tell me about this bastard,”

“His n-name is William,” she choked out, hands going to his shoulders to ground herself, “He loves me very much,”

“Yeah? What does this William do for a living?” one of those long fingers slid through her wet folds and into her awaiting heat.

She bit her bottom lip, not just to stiffle her moans but to prolong her answer. “Um…”

“What does he do for a living?” James repeated, pushing in a second finger and curling them inside of her.

“Ahh! He's… A hotel owner…” She trailed off.

He stopped his movements, looking at her with wide eyes, “He's a what?”

“Hotel owner,”

His eyes darkened, “So my replacement is just some cheap copy?” he hissed, utterly offended, “For that you might of well have just stayed with me!” His fingers left her cunt, causing her to whine with need. “Shut up,” Next thing she knew, a large hand was delivering a harsh slap to her sex. 

She cried out, “James!”

“I said shut up,” he grumbled, hastily undoing his belt buckle and suspenders, pulling down the front of his pants and boxers, his leaning cock springing free. With one hand on her hip, he began to stroke himself, “Once I'm done with you, all thoughts of your cheap new fiance will be out the window.”

How the hell did they end up like this? She came here to demand for him to sign the damn divorce papers so she could marry the man she supposedly loved, yet here she was about to get her back blown out on her ex-lover’s desk.

James lined himself up with her entrance, slowly pushing in. He always started off gentle and romantic, but Y/N knew better. This was just the beginning.  “How does that feel, my love? Still thinking about that bastard William?” he said the name venomously. 

“N-No, James,” she whined out, legs wrapping around his waist as he began to thrust in and out of her, tantalizingly slow. He was teasing her, doing it on purpose. 

“Can he fill you like I can? Hit just the right spots like I do?” he continued, nipping at her earlobe, “I bet you don’t get this wet for him, bet he struggles pushing into you because he just doesn’t get you excited enough,” James smirked, both hands grabbing her waist as he sped up his pace, sliding in and out of her clenching walls with ease, “That’s never been a problem with me. You’ve always come to me with open arms… and open legs,”

“Oh, shut up, you bastard,” Y/N grumbled, nails beginning to dig into his back as he found a steady pace, hips snapping repeatedly against hers with each thrust. “We were never able to have normal sex, huh?”

“Well, you never stopped cursing me out,” he replied cheekily, hands going to her large fur coat, and sliding it off of her shoulders, “I think I got used to you berating me while I kindly pleasured you,”

“You got off on it, don’t lie,” she shot back with an eye roll, until he hit that perfect spot and she gasped, “Oh James do that again James please do that again-”

“Ah, that’s what I like to hear,” he mused, angling his hips to hit her G-spot over and over again. His hands went to the zipper of her dress, bringing it down so that the entirety of the garment was bunched up by her waist. “Much better,” he said smugly, leaning down to take a nipple into his mouth, tongue flicking over the sensitive bud. 

“Ahh!” she whined, playing with her other nipple in pleasure, “Right there right here!”

He began thrusting into her faster, a groan leaving his lips as he plunged deep into her warmth, “Look at that, darling, your cunt is taking my cock so deeply, how greedy,” he teased, admiring the way she involuntarily clenched around his thick length with each thrust, swallowing his dick. 

“Greedy for your cock only, you damn bastard,” she cried out. Couples give each other such endearing or powerful names in the bedroom, but of course that had to be her favorite for him. Bastard. Even when they were madly in love, that was what she called him. “It always filled me up so w-well,”

“Really, darling?” he grinned, reaching a hand between their bodies and gently rubbing her clit. Her eyes snapped open and she whined, lips parting into the perfect “o” shape. “Filled you so perfectly? Then why did you try to replace me, huh? With some cheap copy? Sounds like we know who the real bastard is here,” 

The combination of his dick pounding into her and his fingers expertly rubbing her clit had her seeing stars. She dug her nails into his shoulders, head falling back as she moaned out in pleasure, giving him the perfect view of her breasts bouncing every time his hips met hers, skin slapping against skin. She wasn’t hearing a word he said at this point, digging her heels into his back, ankles locked, urging him deeper into her. Knowing she was still in her blood-red high heels turned him on even more, he used to always love seeing her in heels. 

“Damn you, you bastard, I’m going to cum!” she gasped, biting her bottom lip, “Damn you, damn you,”

James laughed, leaning his head down to bite her pulse point roughly, “You’re gonna cum all over your ex-lover’s cock, my queen? Cum all over my cock and make a mess of yourself? Do it, I dare you,” he lifted his head to survey her facial expressions as he continuously snapped his hips forward, drilling into her in abandon. He then reached out, his large hand going around her throat, and he didn’t even have to squeeze, she was cumming. 

“I’m cumming, I’m cumming!” Y/N squealed, cunt clenching around him one last time before he felt her thick fluids coat his length. 

“That’s it, my love, cum all over my cock, it’s my turn now, gonna fill you up, make you mine again,” he buried himself inside of her as he came, painting her walls white. Hips sputtering, he came to a halt, arms going around her waist, “All mine, no one else can have you but me,” he nuzzled her nose with his own, waiting for some movement. Signs of life. 

And then her gorgeous eyes opened, looking up at him tiredly, “I came here for a divorce,”

“Damn that divorce,”

“Damn that divorce,” she repeated, leaning her head on his shoulder. 

“Dramatic girl, leaving me all by my lonesome for twenty years just to come back to me,” 

Y/N hummed in response, closing her eyes, “Take that as punishment,”

James let out a soft chuckle, stroking her soft hair, “Have I been punished enough?”

“I suppose,” she pulled away from his neck to look him in the eyes, “Happy birthday, James,”

_____

how tf does one write dominate men sorry I usually like subs

[foli-vora]

congrats on 3k!! Not sure if you're still doing this, but can I request something smutty with agent whiskey with the prompt "can we go home yet?"

Thank you for the request, my sweet! I'm so sorry for the time it took to get around to it, but I hope you enjoy! ❤️

errands

jack daniels x f!reader

word count: 1.7k warnings: i love him sm, sweet husband jack will give you everything, jack being a sexy menace, semi public/parking lot activities, swearing, SMUT 18+ ONLY: what's a domesticity kink called? idk, whatever it is we've got that. fingering, orgasm denial, can't not use this gif lmao

The familiar churning of warmth in the pit of your stomach has followed you relentlessly throughout the day, despite you leaving your shared bed much later than socially acceptable after a long morning lost in Jack’s hold. There’s a gentle ache between your thighs from his dedicated efforts, the feeling never once letting your mind wander from the way he unravelled every part of your body and soul over and over.

And this? This wasn’t helping.

The confidence he oozed striding through the hardware store, knowing exactly what he wanted and where he would get it. The way he would ramble about the house renovation plans; what rooms could be what, where he could build you a little reading nook with a window overlooking the endless rolling green fields, or what materials he would need to make some floor to ceiling built in bookcases for your shared collection of books…

His excitement at dedicating his variety of skills into bringing your dream home to life is palpable, bringing forth such a fond tenderness to your chest that it makes you swear you couldn’t possibly love this man anymore if you tried. It rolls from him in waves now, as he wanders with his full cart of various renovation necessities and voicing his thoughts on what particular paint colours would match your shared vision.

It’s just all so sweet, so domestic.

It’s driving you wild.

Lips wrapping around the straw of your soda cup, you study the broad planes of his back, covered by his ever present leather jacket that thankfully stops just above the soft swell of his ass—bless that man for knowing how to pick his jeans. If it weren’t for the sweet elderly couple flicking through colour swatches at the end of the aisle, you simply would’ve crowded him into the shelves just for a much needed taste of his mouth, and maybe a quick feel—

“You listenin’ to me back there?”

“Not really,” you admit honestly, tongue rolling across your lower lip as he gives you a playful frown of disapproval from over his shoulder. That familiar heat rises and swells in your core, and you shift impatiently on your feet. “Can we go home yet?”

He chuckles, reaching out to pluck a paintbrush from the shelf and feeling the synthetic fibres between his fingers. “You gettin’ bored, darlin’? Is that why you’ve been poutin’ the last two aisles?”

“I haven’t been pouting.”

“Mhm,” he rumbles deeply, lips tugged up into a small smile of amusement as he continues his perusal of the variety of painting accessories. Eventually he lands on the ones he finds somewhat satisfactory, and tosses them into the cart before beckoning you closer with an open hand reached out behind him.

You take it and press up into his side easily, sighing softly at the heavy arm that wraps around your shoulders and the lips that press gently against your temple. The heat from his body seeps into yours while a wash of his familiar cologne assaults your nostrils, and it takes every bit of strength to not tilt your head and catch his lips in a searing kiss that would go scaring away any and everyone within range.

God, he just smells so damn good. 

“Okay, so I may have been pouting—but it’s all your fault.”

He chuckles, the deep throaty timbre of it twisting pleasantly in your core, and what really kills you is that he has no idea the actual effect he has on you. Everything about him either sends you into a sweet and dizzying lovesick spiral, or hurtling straight into the fiery depths of hell with the thoughts that turn in your mind.

“Is that right? How so, sugar?”

You sigh, turning in his hold and raking a finger down his chest, winding around the buttons of his shirt as it goes. “All I can think about is fucking you right in the middle of this aisle, Jack.”

He blinks in surprise, taken off guard and rendered slightly bewildered by your admittance. “Come again?”

“Yes—I’m planning on it actually, again and again.”

A grin quickly tugs at his lips and his eyes flicker to the passersby going about their days as he tugs you closer, his thick drawl oozing into your ears, “You’re gonna get us thrown out if you keep that talk up, sugar.”

“Good, then we could go home and waste the afternoon away.”

He sighs, trying to appear vexed by your apparent disinterest in your errands, but the smile still tugging insistently at his lips gives him away. You see the playful sparkle in his eyes, the desperate want to give you everything you need and more, and you know you’ve got him right where you want him.

“Come on, Jack,” you coo, dragging him in for another kiss with just a taste of everything you’re feeling that leaves him chasing your lips when you eventually pull away, “let’s go home. Let me have you.”

“You’ll be the end of me, you know that?” He grumbles quietly before shaking his head, winding a hand down to grab teasingly at your ass cheek and giving it a firm tap that sends a rocket of heat hurtling straight to your core. “Fine. Registers—now. And no dawdlin’, go on now.”

It takes an agonisingly long time to pay, and you’re sure he does it on purpose. Jack lingers, happily chatting away to the older man serving you, and he has to know how impatient it’s making you because you swear you spy a smirk lingering at the edge of his lips as you start to shift from foot to foot. 

You pounce as soon as he slides into the driver's seat, curling a hand around his neck and bringing his mouth greedily to yours. He responds quickly, unable to pull away from the lure of your kiss, lips parting and tongue meeting yours in a tangle of need. You groan into the heat of his mouth, relishing in the burn of his moustache as the kiss deepens. It does nothing to douse the fire wreaking havoc on your body, and you shift restlessly in your seat, thighs rubbing as you search for something to aid in your distress.

He chuckles, the force of his kiss moving you back into your seat as he crowds into you over the middle console, a hot hand splaying on the skin of your thigh to calm your agitation. 

The words rumble against your lips softly, “You want it right here, sugar?”

Public indecency be damned—you need something. It’s not like you’re close to the store where people mill about, with Jack always preferring to park a ways away so there’s minimal risk of someone scratching the sleek and shiny paint of the Bronco. There’s no one around, it’s just you two… just you two, in your own little piece of bliss. 

You pant softly into his mouth while nodding, fire growing up and along your spine as his rough fingers start to push up beneath the hem of your sundress. You’re already squirming from the familiar feel of them, system wired tightly in keen anticipation to feel them brush against you.

“You’re a greedy little thing today,” he murmurs, fingers coaxing your thighs to widen as they begin to dip their way beneath the waistband of your underwear.

A groan reverberates from his chest when he gently glides them along your slit to feel the heavy build up of arousal, taking a painfully long moment to simply feel you, before zoning in on your clit with the lightest of pressures. He circles softly over it, darkened eyes bouncing over your features as you relish in the hazy roll of pleasure taking over your body.

He ducks to press a series of open mouthed kisses to the side of your throat, teeth teasingly nipping at the sensitive skin and tongue soothing the brief pinch of pain away before the curve of his nose traces the shell of your ear. His honeyed drawl brings a shiver across your skin, and it really should be fucking illegal with the things it makes you feel.

“You been walkin’ around like this all morning, honey? You poor thing.”

Finally—God, finally—he allows his fingers to dip down and tease at your entrance, swirling two thick digits shamelessly through your arousal before sliding and curling them deep against the walls of your cunt. He’s quick to swallow the broken sounds that fall from your throat, his lips quirking up into a self satisfied smirk against yours as your hips squirm needily against the pressure of his hand.

“Go on, sugar. Take what you need, I’ve got you.”

You begin a somewhat messy rock of your hips, unashamedly beginning to fuck yourself on his fingers and ensuring to keep the calloused heel of his hand pressed up hard against your swollen clit. It provides the friction you need, you crave, with every back and forth roll against the rough surface of it causing the overwhelming heat in your core to build.

It’s just what you need. It’s just—it’s perfect. The feel of his thick digits dragging against your hot, slick walls; the relentless pressure against your clit; the perfect harmony of both working in tandem to bring a wash of electricity across your nerves, to bring you closer to that blissful edge you feel coming with every tense second—

“G-god, Jack—”

“I know, baby. I know.”

And… fuck. It’s right there, you’re right there—

—only for it to be just out of reach.

The feeling heightens, lingers, and then horrifically melts away into a throbbing ache as Jack retracts his fingers completely, the thick digits glistening from your flood of arousal in the sunlight filled cab.

He ignores your agonised cry of denial from the sudden loss and emptiness, and sucks them into his mouth, before reaching and turning the keys in the ignition, the truck rumbling to life loudly beneath you while you’re left trembling against the leather, thighs spread and cunt weeping.

“That’s what you get for bein’ impatient,” he drawls, a wicked shine to those warm honey eyes. “Now you sit pretty for the ride home, and I may be nicer when I get that sweet ass of yours inside.”

[mikimakiboo]

Muffins

Inspired by @ancientschampionau 's Real Age AU, in which Nightmare loses his corruption and goes back to his six year old form and the gang takes care of him as they all live in a farm (there's more things happening but I ain't gonna spoil lol)

I have already done fanarts, headcanons and comments, all that was left was a fanfiction ! (I think it's the first time I have been so invested in a story) Hope you'll like it and hope I got their personalities right :')

I've been everywhere in your asks and comments lmao I hope I'm not being annoying :')

English still isn't my first language so please excuse the grammatical errors ♡

The moon was high in the sky, it was very late, or very early depending on the point of view, everyone was sleeping, the four adults piled up on each other. Nightmare looked at them before slowly getting out of bed, the small skeleton had a mission and he needed everyone to be asleep. He carefully walked to their pillow nest to grab his giant bat plushie, Batsie he called her, and walked to the bed again, sitting Batsie near the edge in front of the sleeping pile.

- You watch them for me.

He commanded the bat. If anyone saw him talking to the plush he would never hear the end of it. Batsie fell over. Nightmare sat her straight again and put pillows on each side to prevent another fall. Once the bat was secured and after making sure no one woke up the small skeleton left the room, slowly closing the door behind him. He needed to be fast, Horror and Cross usually woke up quite early, he needed to be done by that time.

He could feel the cold floor through his socks, it was an old house, they hadn't install everything yet and for now their only source of heat was the fire place, so Nightmare had to wear socks in and out of bed so he wouldn't get cold.

He went to the kitchen, grabbed a chair and dragged it next to the counter before climbing on it and standing up slowly, he didn't want to fall after all. He grabbed the big cooking book, a gift from Crop as he never used it, and opened it to look through the pages until he found the recipe he was looking for: muffins. He wasn't allowed to help around in the house or with the farm work, everytime he tried they would grab him and put him back in the nest, but he couldn't just stay there and do nothing ! They all worked so hard to protect him, to take care of him and to renovate this house, he felt bad about not doing anything for them in return, so he decided that he had enough, he will bake them muffins and they will enjoy them because he will make them with love ! And chocolate. Cross loves chocolate, so if anyone says anything he could turn to Cross, he will surely stand on his side.

He rolled up his sleeves and gathered everything he needed to bake: two bowls, a whisk, a spoon, muffin molds, flour, sugar, cocoa powder and chocolate chips, baking soda, yogurt, milk, vegetable oil, an egg, and vanilla ! He stopped for a moment to make sure there wasn't any noise coming from the bedroom but all he could hear was silence. All the ingredients were there, good, because climbing up and down the chair was starting to hurt his back, and even if it hurt less thanks to the care Dust was putting into cleaning his wounds he still needed to be careful.

He read the instructions out loud to himself.

- First, mix the dry ingredients in a bowl...

Carefully, he measured his ingredients and put them in his first bowl: flour, sugar, baking soda, chocolate chips and cocoa powder. He looked up.

- Oh, I forgot to heat the oven !

He had seen Horror using it before, so he knew which buttons to turn. The oven biped, making Nightmare flinch and turn to the bedroom, but no one came out. He sighed in relief, he wanted this to be a surprise, if they woke up now and saw him then it wouldn't be a surprise anymore ! Also they might forbid him to finish baking.

He went back to his recipe, now mixing the wet ingredients in the second bowl: the yogurt, the milk, the egg with some parts of the shell that he had to pick out, the oil and the vanilla extract, before adding it to his first bowl and mixing again. He had to take a few breaks, the mix has started to thicken and it was hard stirring it with his little arms. Horror would have done that effortlessly, but the big guy was sleeping and Nightmare didn't want to wake him up for that, he could do it himself ! He was a big boy ! He has lived for five hundred years ! His body and mind got stuck at six though, but still ! He was perfectly capable of baking muffins for his parents gang.

The mixture finally got smooth after ten minutes of stirring to get rid of the lumps, he could now pour it into the molds with the spoon as to not make a mess. He filled each mold equally, opened the oven's door slowly, put on the thick oven mitts and carefully put his molds inside the oven, closing the door again.

- Twenty minutes.

He said, looking at the time on the oven's clock. He had a timer, but he didn't set it because the noise would wake up the others, and he obviously didn't want that to happen.

- Have to clean now.

Everything went well ! The muffins were in the oven and no one woke up ! Now all he had to do was put the dishes in the sink and the ingredients back in the cabinet, easy ! He grabbed everything and put it back in place, feeling proud of himself and very excited to show his surprise to everyone. He grabbed the bag of flour, the last thing on the counter, and got down of the chair. He tripped.

Danger. Something happened. Dust's soul clenched in his chest, waking him up in a jump, his breath fast and eyelights frantically looking around. Horror was under the others, Cross had his head on his chest, Killer was taking all the space as usual, Batsie was sitting at the end of the bed, Nightmare wasn't there. Nightmare wasn't there. Dust looked again, Horror, Cross, Killer, Batsie, no Nightmare. Panic started to take over, where was Nightmare ?!

He jumped out of the bed, looking everywhere in the room, maybe Nightmare was reading in a corner ? But there was no baby in sight. He stormed out of the room, quickly spotted light in the kitchen, and immediately teleported there. What was he doing this early in the kitchen ? Horror wasn't even awake yet !

A mess. Nightmare had made a mess. There was flour everywhere, from the floor to the cabinets and even himself. He sat on his knees, looking at the mess he made. Of course he made a mess. He always made messes. Back in Dreamtale he always made messes, that's why everyone hated him, because he couldn't do anything right, and now he had made a mess again in the kitchen when he was supposed to make his family a gift. He felt... terrible, his soul hurt, his arms hurt and his cheeks burned. They were going to be mad at him, so mad, he knew he didn't have to right to be alone near the kitchenware, it was too dangerous, he could hurt himself, and not only he did just that, but he also made a mess with the flour.

He heard a teleportation noise behind him. Oh. Oh no. He didn't want that, he didn't want to wake them up, it was supposed to be a surprise ! It was supposed to be perfect ! Why did he have to trip and fall ?! Why did he have to be such a good-for-nothing ?!

- Nightmare ! Are you okay ?! What happened, are you hurt ?!

Dust rushed to his side, kneeling in front of him, not caring that he just stepped in the flour, his baby was on the floor, not responding, he couldn't care less about what he stepped in. He quickly but gently made him look up, a hand on Nightmare's chin, looking for scratches, and was deeply relieved to find none.

- What were you doing here ?

He asked, but Nightmare just looked at him, his eyelights and little lips trembling, he sniffed. Dust quickly pulled him against his chest, sitting correctly to put his baby on his lap as he began to sob, grabbing his shirt with his tiny fists.

- It's okay, I'm not mad, I promise.. I'm not gonna yell at you.. I'm just worried..

He gently pat his skull, avoiding his back as he didn't know yet if Nightmare hurt himself there. The small skeleton pressed his face against his chest, he didn't want that to happen... his surprise was ruined now...

Dust looked around them, letting Nightmare calm down at his own pace, he noticed the bag of flour on the ground and the oven turned on with something inside of it. If Nightmare was hungry, why didn't he just grab a snack ? Why didn't he call him or the one of the others ?

- I'm sorry...

Nightmare sniffled. Dust looked down at him.

- What happened.. ?

He asked again, calmly, still peting his skull.

- I wanted t-to make muffins... for-for when you wake up...

He choked on his tears. Dust hated hearing him cry, he hated it so much, he wasn't supposed to cry, he was supposed to be happy, not hurt.

- It-it was supposed t-to be a surprise...

- You should have called us...

- No.. ! I-I wanted to make it myself.. ! You always do everything an-and I never do anything...

He protested. Of course it was the reason. Dust knew Nightmare felt like he needed to do something in return, to thank them, no matter how much they told him he didn't have to he kept insisting. The adult sighed.

- Night.. it's very sweet of you, really, but we are not here because we expect something from you, we are here because we love you, because we care about you, and love isn't something you need to be thankful for..

Nightmare sniffed, wiping off his tears has he listened to Dust. All his life he had been a burden, he just couldn't imagine that a whole group of people got together and collectively decided to unconditionally love him... it was just... too good to be true... they were too good to be true...

- If you wanted muffins we could have baked them together, it would have still been a surprise for the others...

Nightmare simply nodded, looking down. He felt Dust's lips against his head. A kiss.

- Did you hurt yourself.. ?

He nodded again.

- My arms and back hurt...

- Okay, stay here then, I'm going to clean up..

Dust got up with Nightmare to sit him back on the chair, giving him one last pat before grabbing the bag to put it back on the counter, he then took a broom and began cleaning the floor. Nightmare still felt bad, but not quite as bad as a few minutes ago, Dust wasn't mad, he didn't yell, and the others were apparently still sleeping.

Twenty minutes passed.

- I'll take them out.

Dust said before Nightmare even had time to lift his arms. He took the muffins out of the oven and put them on the counter to cool off. It smelled so good, and they looked good too ! Nightmare smiled as he looked at his creation, he was happy.

Now all he had to do was wait for the others to join them and then they could all enjoy some warm muffins made with all the love he had in his little body.

Some things didn't go as planned, but... it was still perfect to him, everything was perfect... and the muffins were delicious !

- the end -

[marshmcore]

Pondering Sniper with his Emotional Support Scout (AU)

Modern+College AU speeding bullet

Both in their early transitional age (Scout is 19, Sniper is 22), they’ve already spent a handful of years, supposedly taking the steps to build their futures, but are they where they want to be? Are they going to where they want to be? Where is it anyways?

I just had the idea for a more grounded side to their story, slice-of-life in a coming-of-age setting, with themes of existentialism. I aged them down to make it work… Under cut for info dumps about these goobers 8)

Scout took a break right after high school, working for his family business (an unsuccessful one, ran by one of his oldest brothers). This used to be a summer job, a way to get extra money as a kid, but now he’s been a full time worker for 2.5 years, familial obligations exploiting him to stay, while being undermined by his narcissistic brother. He eventually gets out of it, but has to face the hurt from being used, and also the fact that he had to grow up so quickly as a kid (especially when he has to deal with the fallout caused by his Mom’s and Spy’s affairs. He and his Mom are in good terms, it’s just his Mom isn’t a good support system atm). Left to face the real world by himself, he tries to find a way to stabilize by himself, while trying to face his trauma (trauma from a missing father figure, and being treated as the black sheep of his family) as he finds a way to be more himself and be happy. He’s optimistic and responsible when the world calls for it, otherwise he’s most likely to test this new freedom (for better or worse). Eventually Spy comes around to try to reconnect with Scout, there’s no telling how Scout will cope with it when he’s in the midst his new-found freedom.

Sniper went straight to university, never once took a break from the school work, because he thinks that’s the only way to go about in life. He took up a program and career plan that was not right for him, but struggled his way through by retaking course’s countless of times, pulling off impossible all-nighters, etc. At some point he gave up, began to drop classes every semester, and finally quit the program. However, he started working somewhere in the industry he had been studying years for. He thought this could bring him forward, but it kept digging him a deeper grave. He’s a workaholic, impulsive, but lost. At a very young age, he was a subject of a tough custody battle between his neglectful biological parents (Lar-nah and Bill-bel), and his grandparents (who are Mr and Mrs Mundee in this AU). From that, his guardians want him to be better than his parents, and in return he strived for that. However, after giving up, he feels like a failure and is currently going through a period of depression. However, with the money he earned from his job, he wonders if he should take that road-trip he used to fantasize. He told himself doing this will help him find himself, but a part of him wonders if its just him trying to run away from something. Either way, he’s got a deal for a junk RV and he wants to renovate it!

After all that, Scout and Sniper meet, their lives are in the cross roads, and their relationship is a turning point as well. It feels like the world is moving faster than they can cope with, but can they find some respite in this new relationship together? DUN DUN DUUUN

Phew this was really fun to write! I really like their dynamic, romantic or not (idc). Them being the same age range inspired me to write this, because I know myself and some friends have gone through this similar experience aswell, and I just think its fun/interesting to explore that with they have in cannon.

A lot of this projection tho lmao with a loose base derived from cannon, and some embellishments to make this AU work.

[thatoneweirdowhoknowstoomuch]

Where's Waldo Headcanons

(Srry it took so long, I wanted to be sure my posting wouldn't be in vain, lmao. Also, be warned as I incorporate a ton of the 2019 series)

First off-

Waldo Waldini:

•》General《•

* His full name is Waldo W******* Waldini, but he simply goes by "Wally" for convenience sake (plus it adds an "e" sound, which makes one smile)

* His first name was his middle name pre-transition, named after his late father (barely brings this up, tough subject)

* Transmasc. He has a ton of ironic chest binders (think Thomas Jefferson and the Hastune Miku Binder)

* 100% on the spectrum, change my mind

•》Background《•

* His mom and dad were both vets... well, a veterinarian and a veteran, respectively.

* Mostly raised by his Mom as his father was "no longer with us" when her baby girl (pre-transition Wally)

* Even then, his mother couldn't be around much with her job, so he was most of the time alone or with friends. When Mama Waldini could hang out with her daughter, she'd always make up for it in souvenirs and day outs with her.

* Due to being on the spectrum, he had some problems both in making friends and staying out of trouble. Certainly not stupid by any means, much rather the opposite, and definitely not a troublemaker on purpose. Most of his antic includes

- Bringing animals to the classroom for show and tell

- Bringing dangerous machinery (her inventions, which tend to break, go rogue, or explode)

- Traumatizing the whole school during a school play that one time (she took his role a bit too seriously and made the fake stabbing a bit gorey)

(2019 spoilers Ahead!)

- Because of his "antics" and the fact Mama Waldini couldn't be around much with her job, she was the one to introduce Wally to the Wanders' Society, an association she assumed would benefit her little adventurer in the long run like it had with her (she was raised by Whitebeard until she was able to sustain herself and get married)

- She was so ecstatic when she found out that her little adventurer was thriving and that he made new friends (Wenda).

- Despite her happiness and the fact she wished she could see her little girl, she was always way too busy, busier than normal. She felt terrible about this, but there was nothing she could do in her eyes. A few days before Christmas during work, she was tasked with helping a white mutt, and it's four puppies. The mother didn'tmake it, her pups now orphaned. So she gives one of the pups to Whitebeard, requesting that he would give it to her little girl as a Christmas present.

- By the time she could see her little girl, Wally was transitioning; binder, shorter hair, boyish clothes, a whole makeover on his end. She was confused if not taken aback when her little girl insisted on being called her son and that her little girl changed her name to her middle name. However, with Whitebeard's help and Wally's corrections, she got used to it. But it doesn't really stop her from putting hair extensions and ribbons on him to not cause fuss with her husband's side of the family.

- When Wally got older and finally passed Wanders' Society, he went on to travel the world for quite a while, promising to be back with Mama when he's seen enough. However, during his travels, Mama Waldini falls ill, causing her to be moved to a nursing home and bedridden. While her falling sick was a coincidence, Waldo can't really bring himself to forgive for not being there when it happened.

•》Misc.《•

- His current home was once an abandoned theather, renovated with the help of Wenda.

- Due to the last time he traveled abroad, he has a bit of a fear of leaving close people behind for too long. However, Wenda and Whitebeard assure him that nothing bad will happen.

-Owns a ton of clothes/cloth items with his iconic stripes. He has tried other patterns and clothes but wasn't a huge fan.

- Not really picky or touch sensitive, but hates slimy/squishy textures

- One time when Waldo and Wenda slept over at his place, he tried making breakfast in bed for Wenda. However, it went horribly, horribly wrong -

Wenda: Hey, at least you're better than my cousin

*takes a sip*

Wenda: Hey, this is some really good tea -

Waldo: Coffee

Wenda: Wut

Waldo: It was supposed to be c-coffee

- In his trying different clothing era, he ended up buying a red pinstripe suit. Rarely wears it , excusing it as "saving it for Wenda"

- His special interests are traveling (of course), robotics, and miscellaneous fun facts

Wow.. this was waaaay too long. I'll make separate posts for the characters from now on. The next character is Odlaw!

[fixfoxnox]

I know they are not relevant at all in the story, but do you have and Alerudy headcanons or thoughts??? Just thought I’d expand the thought horizons a lil lol

YES I LOVE ALERUDY OML

Some NSFW here as well:

Husbands, I don't make the rules except I definitely do

Grew up together in Las Almas, became friends around like ten years old and just became attached at the hip

Rudy had a crush on Alejandro his entire life, like stars in his eyes for this man

He followed Alejandro into the military, joined because of him, stayed because of him, worked his ass off to be able to get transferred to his team

Alejandro fell for Rudy slowly, in all of the little things that he did. He doesn't realize that he's in love until after Rudy officially gets transferred to Los Vaqueros

Alejandro, once he knows he's in love, has literally no idea how to act around Rudy

I adore the headcanon that because Rudy has been dealing with his feelings for Alejandro for so long, he's figured out how to deal with them and hide them

Which includes him having one night stands (let the man fuck okay)

And now that Alejandro is paying attention fully and can see this??? Jealousy. Jealousy and heartbreak man. He keeps it to himself as best he can, but he can't help how snappy he gets when Rudy comes back from a day off with like hickeys on his neck or smthn

Alejandro and Valeria never dated, but the three were friends. They became friends in highschool

Valeria was never able to get transferred to the Vaqueros and was bitter about it, so they slowly grew apart

Not enough that when it was revealed that she was working with the cartel that the sting of betrayal didn't hit the two men hard.

It was fairly soon after Valeria's betrayal that the two got together. They needed the comfort from one another and being in such close proximity and seeing the other vulnerable and feeling the trust between them was enough for Alejandro to finally spill his feelings

They were married within a year (they're that couple lmao)

Rudy wears his wedding ring around his neck, tucked under his shirt so people can't see and connect the dots. Alejandro wears his on his hand.

If they're saying goodbye to each other in front of others and can't have a quick kiss, they'll look at each other and kiss their ring/ring finger instead

Its their way of kissing and saying "I love you" without actually saying it

They have a cute little farm house cottage type thing a few miles out from Las Almas, tucked away for privacy

They renovated it themselves over their honeymoon

Alejandro seems like the one who gets more jealous in the relationship, but thats just because he's bad at hiding it. The truth is that Rudy is the one who gets more jealous more often

He's just quiet and mean about it. Like if its a recruit he's driving them hard during training, giving them this blankly unimpressed look at everything they do

He can be sickly sweet while insulting someone and he's an absolute expert at disguising his insults, so people are left like "did that actually???"

Alejandro is whipped for this man, like absolutely head over heels, his eyes find him at all times, watching him when he's supposed to be paying attention type of thing

Rudy absolutely uses it to his advantage to get what he wants/tease Alejandro at random points

His favorite thing to do is pretend to wipe his sweat away with the bottom of his shirt, lifting it up to give the man just a flash of skin before going back to normal

Rudy has mastered the puppy dog eyes

Rudy is absolutely a power bottom

Either ordering Alejandro around while the man is fucking him or riding him while he has his hands tied to the bed

If Alejandro is in charge in the bedroom its because Rudy is letting him. If he gets too teasing/overzealous a simple raised eyebrow will put him back in line in a second

Alejandro is the cook in their relationship because Rudy burns any food he tries to make sjfjnfnfjf

When they were kids Rudy made Alejandro a friendship bracelet and Alejandro still has the bracelet attached to his keys. It literally still looks almost brand new because of how well he takes care of it

They both want dogs, but know that they can't have any unless they get a military dog

They've discussed it but Rudy always ends up crying because he hates the idea of a dog, especially a dog that would be theirs getting shot at

Then he gets upset at himself for being upset because if he wasn't so worried then they could give a dog a good home and help it

It usually ends with Alejandro having to hold him and distract him until he stops crying

When they're around others who don't know their relationship its little brushes against each other

When the 141 was there it was little brushes and touches. Ghost is the only member of the team who noticed, but he kept his mouth shut

Love the idea that Graves was lowkey into Rudy and Alejandro has steam coming from his ears anytime he saw them interact

Currently rebuilding their base and they have lots of "reminds me of our honeymoon" "oh my love" moments

They are the "I would die for him. I would kill for him" couple

[laughing-with-god]

Last question for now (apologies!)

What are the personal like… styles/ vibes of their homes? Or like, how would they decorate the inside of it? Or would they at all?

(me personally, if I just won the Hunger games, the first thing I'm doing is an AD Open Door Victor's Village edition lmao)

(( Author's Note : Don't be sorry, I love questions like these! It helps me attach visuals to characters which is really fun. For this, I pulled some Pinterest pics and did some light research on the districts, but also feel free to interpret/imagine what you feel is right!!))

Jin

I picture that the Victor homes vary depending on their district, which would make sense considering the districts are in different landscapes so not all homes can be built the same

For District One, I picture little mansions with lots of glass walls for natural light. This district is apparently in the center of the U.S. (Wyoming, Idaho, Utah) so I can see some natural materials, sun roof windows, low and wide mid-century modern houses

I think stylistically, Jin would decorate his home with lots of white and browns, a colorful rug or accent furniture here and there, but he doesn't overdo it in fear of being tacky

fireplace is probably boarded up for um, obvious reasons (war flash backs lol)

I think his favorite part of his home is the kitchen. In the games, starvation was especially tough on him, so now I think he seeks comfort in food. I can see him taking cooking classes or hiring a personal chef, maybe even throwing dinner parties.

If you were to move in with him, I think he'd be okay with you changing whatever you wanted, as long as he gets to keep all his fancy kitchen appliances

Namjoon

I dont think he'd care a lot about the style of his home, I also see him rarely being there since he has so much work to do in the capitol

District Three is apparently in the midwest, and there's lots of factories that make high end technology for the capitol

Therefore, I think the victor homes there would be simple, modern/industrial condo-style homes? Lots of grays and blacks with granite accents.

I don't think Namjoon would go out of his way to purchase furniture or decor, just accepting the furnishings it already came with. He's not a sentimental guy and a part of him is always aware that his home is technically the capitol's property, not his.

I think a cool highlight of his home would be the technology. Like his tv is just a hologram or there's just some cool tech that locks all the doors and turns on the lights on at once. other disctrict victors don't even get that, it's just district three since they rule technology

If you were to move in, Namjoon would gladly welcome any change in decor, letting you know that he never saw the point before you

Jimin

So I personally feel like District Four would make more sense in a tropical place like Florida or something, therefore I feel like there would be a "jungle/beachouse" vibe to the victor homes here

Victors row would be in a vegetated area of four, not too far from the water. I don't see the capitol wanting to have victors living right on the coast since that's most likely reserved for shipments, boating, fishing and yeah....the water is probably heavily monitered in case people get ideas...

Jimin more or less kept everything the same, though he did let his desinger team go crazy with the jungle concept

I can see Jimin liking the color green and also taking care of plants, since he's pretty lonely back at Four it gives him a little sense of innocent purpose

Again, he's def more at the Capitol than here tho, often times this feels more like a vacation home

All the guest rooms get used as extra storage for all the gifts he received from capitol women. hopes to one day fill them with kids tho :(

If you were to move in, Jimin would be estatic and gladly join in any renovation plans. He'd want to be included in the choices, pick the wrong wallpaper even and he'd be pissy about it lol

Hoseok

District Eight is full of factories and textiles, so I see victor's homes being industrial condos with brick walls, exposed pipes and wooden beams

Hoseok will try to decorate and make it feel cozy, just for the sake of his siblings though

I feel like he probably gave his siblings the bigger rooms and took one of the smallest in the home

Anything his little brothers or sisters want, it's theirs no question asked

I can see him becoming a little home maker honestly. He wakes his siblings up in the morning, makes them breakfast, sends them to school, then comes back home and cleans their rooms / common spaces, does some grocery shopping, laundry ect. ect.

It's very cute and mother hen of him but he really just can't handle freetime bc then his mind wonders to dark places...

so he throws himself into caring for his siblings

If you were to move in with him, he'd welcome you and any changes you might want to have on the common spaces, but obvi is protective of his siblings' stuff.

Yoongi

Six is said to be highly populated and overly dense, borderline too many people live here. I picture it as a city too, transportation being their main hub so there's probably even a subway system

Therefore I think the captitol would make a victor buidling or something. District Six doesnt have many victors and the place is already so dense, I think a good solution would be to make one big high rise of apartments where all the living victors have their own units

Yoongi probably threw away everything in the apartment

I can see him having some chairs and a single bed. prob doesn't even have a tv bc keeps breaking them in rage every time the capitol makes an "announcement" lol

Fridge is also always empty. Boy can go days without eating so it doesn't even occur to him to have groceries on hand

Pics below are what the place should look like, before he fucked it up

If you were to move in, good luck on even hanging up a single picture. Give it a week before Yoongi flies into another rage and rips everything to shreds.

Taehyung

I think District Eleven victor homes would be like large, farmhouses on hills away from the rest of the town

I picture feilds upon feilds in this district, since it's all about farming so it's probably very big in terms of land

I also don't think the capitol had many of these houses made, correctly assumming that Eleven wouldn't have many victors

I think Taehyung actually loves his home, quite liking the simplicity and size of it

I can see him starting a little garden in the back yard, or even getting some chickens to keep him busy

He probably would read to his mother too, he most likely set her up in the master bedroom and waits on her hand and foot

If you were to move in, he wouldn't mind little changes here and there. But at his core, he is a minimalist and would rather you not clutter up his space. Don't you two (three including his mom lol) have everything you need already? There's no shame in the simple life.

Jungkook

District Two is up in the mountains! Very cold and harsh winters, thin air but I'd imagine its very beautiful

The homes here are built in luxury cabin style at the base of the mountains. District Two also has the most victors, so I imagine their victors' village is quite the neighborhood

Jungkook is fond of the views he gets from his home. I think he'd like hiking too so he enjoys the proximity to nature

As for the interior, Jungkook doesn't really care. I know, most of the victors on this list don't care but like, kill 23ish kids in a game and ig it puts things into perspective lol

Like Yoongi, all he really needed was a good bed and he'd be okay. I don't think he got rid of the furniture the capitol provided, but he doesn't have an opinion on it either

If you were to move in, Jungkok would just hand you the cash to buy whatever decor you want, just as long as it's not "too girly"

[queerponcho]

Vanilla and lemon | drabble

a/n: Well- I guess i am posting something for the first time🤌🏽 I have no idea how posting on Tumblr like this works so i welcome any Tips and tricks if you have any lmao.

summary: You’re a vampire and are, once again, visiting the museum. But this time you forgot your blood-packs and cant seem to be able to leave. What’ll you do? Starve?…or help yourself to a bite of your favourite tour-guide…

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT AFTER THE CUT OFF PLEASE- i am not responsible for what kinda content you consume on the internet but i don’t wanna get blocked or reported so pls be warned this work is NSFW.

Vampire!female!reader x Steven Grant

Warnings: no use of your/n, smut, p in v, persuation, dubious consent, slight blood-play?, fingering, handjob, no mention of Jake or marc (sorry>_<), making out, not beta read, biting, marking, blood, scars, sub/steven?, begging, if i missed anything pls dont hesitate to tell mee<33

wordcount: a bit over 3000

—————————————————————————---------------------

You have been in the museum for about 5 hours now. it's a place you like to be at, since it's shaded from the sun and usually quite deserted. You could go about the place comfortably without feeling watched or potentially being found out when you would drink out of your pre-packed blood packs. You even bought an opaque straw to make sure no-one saw the dark red thick liquid. unfortunately you forgot the straw and more importantly the packs. You’ve been waiting for the sun to set which you usually wouldn't need to-do because London was a generally clouded area, but this evening was especially sunny and warm despite it being october. You even forgot your umbrella at home, which you use to shield yourself from the sun.

there's a reason for your abrupt and unplanned leaving. you’ve been coming to this particular museum and touring the same exhibit for one reason only. The cute tour-guide, Steven Grant. He was intelligent and confident during his tour but every time you caught his gaze he would blush and avert his eyes fast, like a shy animal. you loved it. Always wearing those funky oversized shirts and ties under that beige jacket, on the warmer days he’d fold up the sleeves of his shirt to expose those delicious veins on his forearms. Every Time you saw those you could feel your canines prodding into your bottom lip. It was even worse now that you had forgotten your blood-pack. You were burning for a drop of blood, craving it. The only thing holding you back was your usual distaste of drinking directly from humans. Sometimes they would be all sweaty and smell dirty, you had to get so close it would ruin your appetite and sometimes the smell of them would get stuck on you for hours after you fed on them, which you just couldn’t tolerate anymore. So a few centuries ago you decided to switch entirely to bloodpacks, which had felt like a really good decision.

With hunger came an impeccable sense of smell. You knew Steven smelled good but you didn’t know he smelled like this. Like warm vanilla and zesty lemon, homey and comfortable. You’d press your fangs into his neck and never let go if that meant you could have that smell on you forever. The fact that he looked so good would be a definite bonus. Surely he’d be okay with living in your home, it was a historical mansion. It sed to be a vacation house for some rich nobles, but you renovated and refurbished it a while ago and kept it updated to current fashion, it was a bit of a hobby to you. He would have a huge Collection of books to read which you know he'd love, since you’ve caught him on more than one occasion, reading a different book every lunch. Just like he was right now, sitting by the giftshop, eating his pickle, cheese sandwich and reading up on egyptology. He looked really focused and you wouldn’t want to disturb, but before you can turn and move far away from him, your feet are leading you toward him.

Your instincts probably taking control as you sit down next to him, overwhelmed by the calming aura around him. He looks up from the book and locks eyes with you and you hear his heartbeat quickening. The blood rushing through his veins and supplying him with adrenaline as he looks at you flushed and wide-eyed.

‘h-hello miss. Can I help you with somethin?’ his pretty british accent isn't lost on you and the way he can't tear his eyes away from you has you riding a high you haven’t felt in a few decades. ‘I’ve been coming to your tours for a while and I really enjoy them. You’re really good at what you do’ the last part, you say in a slightly lower and breathier voice-range than usual. Your hunger is really affecting you in ways you had completely forgotten. Before you knew you were spilling compliance and persuasion spells onto Steven. You never liked to use them, they only ever worked on people that already had a certain affinity with you anyway. Meaning they’d either like you or needed to find you attractive for these to work. If you wanted to force someone you’d have to use the mind numbing witch magic you learned a few years after your transformation. That one you’d only used once, in a very dire situation on a very very old woman. It wasn't good blood but it was enough to survive at the time.

You’re brought back to Steven when you feel him leaning on your shoulder. ‘I know you’ve been watching me- I like it. You’re a very beautiful and captivating woman.’ Steven said lazily and fully giving into your spells, letting all his thoughts tumble out of his mouth. ‘I especially love your skirts- no matter the length they always make me flustered and nervous. Make me feel like theres this itch I can't scratch.’ he talks breathily and you hear his heartbeat pick up again and his blood most-likely rushing towards his growing arousal. You quickly take his tie in your hand and tug him with you. He follows you like a little puppy as you walk into a supply closet together. You lock the door with your magic and darken the window. Steven sees you do that and his eyes bulge a little out of his skull. ‘I-I gotta get back to w-work-’ Steven backs into the corner and you stalk toward him like a predator would towards his prey. ‘Oh darling, no need to worry- I only need to borrow something, yeah? It’ll only hurt a little, I promise.’ you say as you reach out to him and start to unbutton his shirt to reveal his neck and chest to you. You take off his Jacket and he blushes intensely. As your canines start protruding out of your mouth Steven surges forward and messily kisses you, you’re caught off guard but immediately tug him closer to you.

He grabs at the nape of your neck and desperately kisses you, slashing his tongue into your mouth and licking your canines expertly. This only amplifies your hunger and you slam him into the wall behind him with unnatural strength. He whimpers and paws at your soft body pulling your hips closer to his. You part away from him to let him breathe, and start licking down to his throat nibbling his jawline and earlobe. Finally you get to his pulsepoint and inhale his scent urgently lapping against it. He moans and whimpers, writhing under your touch. ‘please- please’ he moans quietly, not entirely sure what he is begging for.

He savours the taste and craves more kissing you again, licking into your mouth and letting his flavour spread into his mouth. He takes off your bra as you unbuckle his pants. He throws the bra towards where your blouse and his shirt are and walks you backwards to a table covered with rags and cleaning supplies. He shoves everythign to the floor and lifts you onto it. You plop down on the table and make a show of arching your back for Steven. He growls and comes closer reaching under your particularly short skirt and cupps your pussy over your sheer tights. You mirror his action by reaching into his briefs and wrapping your hand around his already leaking cock.

He stares at you awestruck and you take his hand in yours tugging him forward so he falls onto you. He catches himself so he doesn't crush you completely. You hook your legs around his hips and feel his jeans against your ass. His dick rubbing over your clit destroys your patience ‘fuck me Steven’ he mewls at that and positions his cock over your eager hole and pushes in slowly. ‘you’re so perfect, so tight for me always’ You both moan and you grab a hold of his hair and expose the other side of his throat to you. You surge forward and break his skin with your sharp canines. He slams down hard, now completely sheathed inside your tight wet cunt. ‘oh I love this- love you honey oh my gods’ you unlatch from him and bite a new spot next to the other one. Marking him as yours once more. He slams into you, pounding your pussy. The only sounds in the room, filthy and wet squelching sounds from the repeated thrusting and your collective moaning and panting. Steven whimpers and moves one hand to your clit, rubbing at it expertly. ‘m’gonna cum love- pleaseplease can I cum?’ You lick the fresh blood off his throat. Humming at the taste of him, you feel as he shudders and starts rutting into you uncontrollably, he’s about to cum and so are you. You move to his ear and suck on his lobe, before releasing a command. ‘cum for me Steven.’ He mewls and moans at your command and wantonly thrusts into you even faster than before. You move towards his mouth and kiss him hungrily, to his delight you take his tongue into your mouth and suck on it eagerly.

His hips stutter and he explodes into your tight pussy catapulting you towards your own orgasm as he circles your clit. He shoots his load, painting your tight walls and collapses on top of you. you come down from your high and make soothing motions on Stevens back. Your head resting on his shoulder, you turn to your favourite spot and lick his wounds. You feel his dick bob inside your pussy and you giggle at your insatiable husband. ‘never can get enough can you?’ ‘never of you, love’ he says lovingly into your hair. He lifts himself up to make eye-contact ‘you should forget your blood-packs more often when you visit me at work’ he remarks while kissing your shoulder. ‘You’re lucky that my love for you is stronger than my lust for blood, sweetheart’ Steven kisses you lovingly ‘i love you too darling. By the way, how did you like my innocent act, it was good wasn't it?’ you snort as he wiggles his eyebrows up and down. You turn your face into a seductive smirk and lean into his ear putting on a sultry voice ‘mmhm, you did so good~’ his grip on you tightens and his softening cock hardening again at your voice. His breath hitches and you kiss him quickly smiling up at him innocently when you part, he groans at your successful teasing. You lay there for a little longer, before Steven remembers that he has another tour starting in a few minutes. You help eachother get clean and collect your torn tights off the floor as you notice that the panties had gone missing. Steven kisses you once more before exiting the supply-room and as he slides on the jacket you spot a deep red piece of fabric hanging out of his Inner pocket inside his jacket. You narrow your eyes at him jokingly and he winks at you before making his way towards the waiting visitors.

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a/n: thanks so much for reading<33 if you like this please like and/or reblog😌🫶🏽

[mcubuckyxlokisbitch]

OUT OF ALL THE TIMELINES

CHPT 3: Interogations and Proclamations

Short Series !

Female Asgardian reader (now avenger) X TVA Loki

Chapter 1: Avengers I need your help (done)

Chapter 2: Interrogations and proclamations (done)

Chapter 3: Even Asgardians have myths (done)

Chapter 4:

Chapter 5: -

Chapter 6: -

Surprise !!!!

Chapter 7: Chapter 8: Chapter 9 Chapter 10:

Warnings: Alot of angst <3, somebody kissed but im not saying who, mentions of blood, injury,

Summary: After your Lokis death and have moved on and joined the Avengers. After the aftermath of Endgame you and the other remaining Avengers all seek shelter in the new Avengers Warehouse Pepper Potts bought as a temporary replacement while the Avengers mansion is being renovated. What happened after a very tired mission. Well, you're speechless, to say the least.

a/n: I added a few more chapters because you know dreams lmao so enjoy this one !! Tell me if yall want smut soon. CuZ ye im feeling a smut scene some time soon.

You walked around the Avengers warehouse and got to the medic bay. The push the doors open, "How are her vitals."

"Well for one thin they don't make any sense."

"Ive been trying to heal her but, I can't get a signature on the dark magic... I need your magic to track it." Wanda says as her hands float above the blonde girl.

"She really does look like Loki its scary.... Like put a blonde wig make her shorter and put some eyelashes boom you got blondie here."

You rolled your eyes as your eyes traveled towards Ivars dark matter dagger. A strong dark force gutted your stomach, you could feel the evil from a mile away. You saw the veins around the stab wound as they turned black and spreaded around her stomach.

The only thing that could kill an Asgardian God. With its rusted blade and messily bandanged handle. Just as the myths say, the dagger was made for Odin the allfather but Ivar and his dagger were defetead and casted away before he could use it on him.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breathe to cast a simple healing spell.

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"Alright, enchantments are more than just casting especially when your doing a healing spell." Loki circled around you. You closed your book as you groaned, bored of slow paced lessons set by the prince.

"A healing spell I think we can do something more challenging than that Loki."

Loki stopped in his steps as he brought out his dagger and striked your leg.

"LOKI... AARGH.... YOU MISBIGOTTEN SON OF A LEPPERS GOAT. YOU DAFT ARSE" YOU SCREAMED AT HIM. He chuckled and tipped your chin to look at him with the bloodied dagger.

"Careful, if we go on legal terms thats treason against the prince and queen..." He grinned. "On more serious terms you need to learn how to cast the spell on yourself, this way casting it on others will come naturally."

You tried to hold the cut on your thigh, blood was seeping out continously as you winced when you tried to move your leg. "How am I to focus when im bleeding to death." the words gritting through your teeth.

"Close your eyes and breathe..." Loki sat behind you whispering to your ear. He placed his hands on yours and led them to your wound. "The spell only works when your calm." You took a deep breath and out as your shaky hand lay above your wound. "Feel the energy from your body, allow it to flow through your to your hands down to your wound."

You did as he said. Your enchantments extended to the wound as the blood started to lessen but the wound didn't close. "Now the difficult part. Closing the wound, you can't just imagine it to close, you know the spell."

You said aloud through your teeth holding in your pain. "Rense helbrede såret." Nothing happened, the blood lessen but the wound was still wide open. You were confused and irritated to say the least.

Loki nudged his nose towards the crook of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. "A spells power is through its whisper, to be a true master you must not only say it but think it."

Relaxing your hands as Loki slithered his to your shoulders, you casted in a whisper focusing on the spell imagining the wound closing and the energy flowing towards your wound. "Rense helbrede såret." your eyes glew orange as your enchantment casted on your leg closed the wound slowly from one end to the other. The stinging pain you felt a few seconds ago was gone. There was no mark no scar where there was once blood and torn muscle. You laughed aloud and jumped up from your seat cheering.

"I- I did it no way, I just casted a healing spell on my first try... Loki you are magnificent." You turned to the man who raised an eye brow. The unimpressed look which gutted you stomach and stopped yur cheering as you felt shameful.

"Are you proud of such a small spell I mastered long before I was 16 years old." You blushed in shame as you brough your head down. Looking away from him, you could still feel him walk closer to you. "Charms are not something you can play aroudn on the side either you take it seriously and master it or I never teach you again. Do you wish to be great or nothing...."

He was now merely inches from your as he pinched your chin and brought him to look towards him, "So tell me little girl..." At this point you could feel your heart about to jump out your heart at any moment.

"Great or nothing." he whispered

"Great..." you mumbled.

"Perfect." he leaned down as he placed your lips on yours.

--------------------------------------

"Perfect-

You snap back to reality.

"Perfect, I have the signature of the spell.... You can take the spear out whenever your ready Y/N..." Wanda smiled.

You blanked out as you saw the wound still corrupted but not as bloodied as it was before.

"Careful, won't asgardians burn or disintegrate when you touch the handle or something." Peter stopped your hand.

"It is merely a myth Peter." You held his. "It'll sting slightly but I'll be fine."

"Wow even asgardians have myths. It's like inception a myth in a myth." Ant man said chewing on his chips in the corner of the med bay on a spare bed.

You hold the dagger and it burned your hand the moment you wrapped your hand around it. You winced and pulled back your hand and shook off the heat. Everyone had their eyes on you as you tried again. You wrapped your fingers around the handle, the burning sensation started as you focused on absorbing the heat but it didn't work.

"Teya, your hand it's turning the same colour as the wound." Sam pointed out

Your hand was corrupted. You casted a healing spell on your hand as you held the dagger handle tighter ignoring the warnings from your teamates.

Only one of asgardian strength can pull out the dagger. But anyone who lays in the hand on the dagger, will meet death.

It was a phrase, a warning actually, you remembered like the back of your hand from your favourite tale.

You pulled the dagger out with some force as the wound on the body closed. You dropped the dagger on the ground as you did too.

You were on your knees as your hand turned black and you wrapped your other hand on it trying to heal it. The room felt like it was a million degrees as you felt the darkness travel through your veins.

"Y/N whats going on..." Sam said kneeling down beside you. "FRIDAY RADIO STRANGE FOR AN SOS."

"Yelena, get Thor, Parker make sure Barnes does not know about this make sure they stay with Loki."

"Don't tell James." You whispered to Sam

"Not a chance princess."

"Wanda hows the wound." You looked up in pain.

"Closing in. But old Asgardian magic is complicated, I need time to find a way for it to not spread."

"Sam, I'm fine." you groaned through the pain still trying to cast the healing spell on your arm.

"Ya say that to your black hand. And..... woah." Sam started to let your hand go when your hand to elbow was turning black

"I'm here..." Stephen walked through a portal.

"Her eyes." Sam said concerened as there was no white left in your eyes just pitch black.

You forced yourself to stand up. Your shaking right hand corrupted as you projected your powers towards the dagger on the ground. Focusing the dark energy to leave your body. You groaned as you saw Stephen observe the situation and walk towards your arm.

"Keep focusing project any corrupted magic into the dagger."

Strange got to position and casted a cleansing spell on you. Helping to slip the dark energy off you. You felt your powers slipping away from you as the dark matter did.

When you felt no more corrupted magic you stopped as there was no more magic to give. Your knees felt weak and you tried to walk towards the closest bed but crumble and fell like a new born baby giraffe.

"I got you gurl." Sam caught you before you hit the ground.

"That was very stupid of you..." Strange said as he walked towards the sword glowing red and black. He formed a shield around it as it levitated towards you. "Here this won't get your hand burnt."

"Y/N, your hand. It.... it, that looks like a raisin." Thor winced.

"Thank you Thor, for that obvious comment." your groaned standing up, carrying the bubble with the dagger with your undwounded hand you walked towards the blonde girl. Who seemed to be breathing better as her vitals improved. You took a deep breathe to feel her aura and her health. Which was improving slowly, slower than it must, you looked up towards the body 2 beds down. "Strange what can be evaluated of this mans vitals..."

Strange walked over to the white haired man and hovered over him. Levitating his file to his hands and read through it. "This man is, hm...."

"Check the jacket , TVA ever heard of anything like it." Sam said tossing the jacket towards Strange. Strange looked at the jacket spread wide open hovering infront of him. "Yes the TVA, yes...... I- I actually never heard of them is this made up?"

"Well there goes our backup." Sam groaned plopping himself back on the bed.

"Well there isn't anything we can do. I'll take the dagger back to my room and we'll recon with Loki tomorow... Everyone eat, the food is here get some sleep, meet up first thing tomorow morning 7 am." You said walking out the medbay. "Friday keep an eye on our guest... update us if anything."

"Yes boss." the loud speaker said before the doors closed.

"A bit random but shes can be very attractive when she gets all demanding and stern." Yelena smirked.

----------------------------------------------------

You placed the sphere down on your tv table plopping down on your bed. You winced as your injured hand grazed against the sheets, clenching it with your other hand forcing down another healing spell, nothing, the redness seemed to fade away for a moment but it still looked bad.

There came a sudden knock on the door. "Y/N??" "Go away strange..."

"Actually." Thor opened the door and gave you a sympathetic smile.

"Thor... Hows-

"Your hand, does it hurt- is it corrupted- how are you do you feel well?" Thor rushed over to your side and sat down on your bed. "Let me see maybe I can be of an assistance.'

"If I remembered correctly you failed enchantment and healing lessons set by your own mother." you pulled your hand away.

"I have improved..." Thor said crossing his arms.

"Of course you have." You stood up and walked to your closet to change into something more comfortable.

"I'm sorry..."

"What?"

"I can't go through this again."

"No one is forcing you to be on this assingment. You may return to new asgard and take a break."

"You should be as well."

"Thor the team needs atleast 1 person who knows Loki."

"What if they didn't." Thor said plainly. You turned towards him confused, but you knew where he was getting to. " What if but for one moment we were selfish, what if we were not heroes, mere asgardians who simply needs to be born, live, then die."

"Thor-."

"You were right..." Thor sobbed, tears forming around his eyes. "It's just like Ragnarok all over again." He stared at the ground.

You walk towards Thor and lifted his chin up. "What can I say to the brother who has been my strength for centuries ..." You sighed "I know with Asgard gone, our duties blur with the destinies we thought we could have lived. For once... I really have nothing to say."

"He looks so much like him." Thor laid his head against your stomach. "I couldn't bear myself to get to know him."

You sighed and stroked his hair back. "You need not talk to him unless absolutely necesarry."

"Falling inlove with him... Loving my brother seems to be the one thing I cannot prevent myself from doing." Thor choked out. "Even though I know the outcome I can't help a part of myself to hope."

"Lets eat... you always feel better after we eat. We shouldn't think about this right now." You brought Thor up. As he leaned forward and embraced you.

"I miss him."

"Me too."

"It's been hard..."

"I know." You sniffled as you stopped the moment and stared out your window. You looked up to him. "Shall we join the others for dinner? "

"We shall." he smiled down as you placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

[cosmical-flowers]

I know I was just here but I HAD A HAD A SURGE OF INSPIRATION. HEAR ME OUT OK.

I don't know if you also plan to have Yuzuru in the AU, but I thought of the best motive for him to murder.

Maybe at the first chapter he'd notice someone, very well off and familiar to him. Why? Because he remembers that person as someone that made his dear young master, his close companion and friend, very uncomfortable. The moment he saw him, he could feel his bloodlust increase. So what did he do? Devise a perfect plan to be able to murder that person without any proof.

Maybe in chapter 4 or 3, he'd receive a motive alongside everyone (like in the first game second chapter I think?) and he doesn't react. Everyone would be weirded out, but that's just Yuzuru being himself, right?

At the end, he would manage to murder that person he always wanted to, (and if it's at chapter 3, someone would walk in and he'd be forced to murder them or use them to murder that person and then murder them in the end.) and at the class trial, the moment they would point out proof against him, he would counter it with ease. That's because he had been devising a plan for over 3 chapters, wasn't he?

Kdheorhdkd I feel like I need to see this, but I don't even know if you would even put him in the AU or not LMAO. Hopefully this would give you some inspiration for future murder cases :D

I also feel like Yuzuru would conceal his ultimate by just saying he's the ultimate butler, and Tori would help cover up for him and would also say that he's the ultimate (young) master. and they would be an excellent duo if they ever decide to murder together. Eheheheh...

OHHHH DUO MURDER !!!! duo murder …. THATS SUCH A GOOD IDEA MUEHEHEHEHE. I have Several Shenanigans for the AU already, but let’s expand on an au where they decide to kill as a duo (but its more of an accomplice thingy.)

During chapter 3 of the game, Yuzuru would have noticed Ibara acting … odd. Like he had something to hide. What was he hiding? The fact that he was the mastermind? It couldn’t possibly be the secret they have gotten as a motive, no. It must be him as the mastermind. He’s been already planning this, a just-in-case situation. So lets turn this into a reality.

Simply put, Ibara was drugged and taken away from everyone else. Compared to the classrooms that have been renovated into simple rooms, he was taken to the rooftop. Seen as he was unconscious and unable to do anything, Yuzuru started his plan. … Well, he couldn’t. Tori peaked out from the door and asked what Yuzuru was doing here with Ibara. He hesitated to respond as Tori took in the situation. He just walked into a premeditated murder, didn’t he? Tori backed away, wondering if he should tell everyone else about what happened or stay quiet. Yuzuru grabbed his hand and told him to stay, that he had a plan. He just needed his help. As he explained his plan in full, Tori began to realize how well crafted it was. In the best case, Tori would have escaped the game. In the worst case though, his demise was planned. Tori began to realize that if he didn’t agree and told everyone, he could have possibly been next. So he knew he what he had to do. With a slow plunge to his chest, Tori stabbed Ibara right in the heart with Yuzuru overlooking him. He complimented on how well he did, not a trace of blood on his clothes. Yuzuru instructed Tori to head back to his room and forget this even happened. With a wan expression, Tori went back to his room. Now his plan was set into action.

Hours gone by during the night, as he was busy chopping up his body into bits. Tools “conveniently” placed in the nurses office by Monoshoji allowed him to grab a saw and began cutting. With his body literally chopped up into bits, he knew he had to make due. He hurriedly made his way down the hall, his clothes entirely stained in blood. Placing traces of his flesh in several rooms, carefully tucked away in corners to not activate a dead body discoverery. His plan was cleverly completed soon enough. The final touch was to place Ibara’s head on his bed, for an extra touch of flare. If they solved the case, they surely wouldn’t forget this. Using the key he stole from Ibara, Yuzuru opened his door and placed the head on his bed. He smiled as nobody would realized what happened. All signs pointed to him of course, so he would be chosen as the blackened. When it was revealed that Tori was the true culprit, shocked faces would light around the room. Execution after execution later, including his own, Tori would then be free. A grinned planted on his face as he grabbed a spare change of clothes and went over to the nurses office to grab the 3% hydrogen peroxide and clean his clothes. As he sat on the floor with a blood stained shirt in hand, he thought about how to counter any accuse given in the upcoming trial. God, this was just too easy.

[scintillyyy]

well the firefighter show is back.

well, to start. i guess i don't know how lafd does things but uh. we do realize firefighters generally use their own private money to buy their food for the day right. eddie buying organic fruit leather has nothing to do with lafd budget and everything to do with what he wanted to buy for the day.

listen i know this captain gerrard thing. has a higher level of non realistic ~drama~ but. laughable the idea that he would be able to get away with forcing people (and by people i mean union firefighters) to work out until they puke.

god. the utter lack of union protection is going to be SO obvious here. "if we all quit maybe leadership will realize they made a mistake-" HOW ABOUT IF YOU ALL GET INVOLVED IN YOUR UNION i'm pretty sure the los angeles fire department union has plenty of power. jesus.

having bobby be a fake advisor on a firefighting show is a little on the nose. also hilarious considering historically bobby's use of good or actual firefighting tactics on this show is pretty nonexistent.

not to defend asshole captain here but uh "your boss is a jerk for not letting you take an hour off work" do we. do we understand that firefighting is not a job you can just take an hour off work. denny's too old to not understand how this work schedule works. and considering. with lafd's shift schedule (24 on 24 off for 5 days, then 96 hours off) it should be on their attorney to push for a day that hen doesn't work. of which there are plenty.

and again!! the city is the employer!! not the captain!! if anyone has to take emergency time off for whatever reason that's a city HR thing and the firefighters just send a rover to fill the spot while you're gone!! captain gerrard has no power to deny her time off. like i know we're trying to make him evil captain but c'mon. don't even get me started on these apparent renovations or something. like i'll shit on him for him being an asshole but like this comically mustache twirling behavior i just can't not be like. pls. i do have to at least acknowledge he's got nothing to do with hen's lack of planning to get that shift off. that's a her problem.

also, she could just ask around and switch her shift with someone. i mean, i know that nobody probably wants to help these people & they also have no friends outside of each other but damn. don't even have a decent enough relationship with any of your academy mates to ask for a trade that day, huh, hen.

i'll be honest i could get behind a toxic old man yaoi situationship between bobby and the actor tho

i haven't mentioned the bees because the bees are egregious even for this show tbh. of course athena was on that plane. lmao.

[spicysix]

your sweater (up over your head) | 2/6

5.8k words | prev | next | masterlist | ao3 warnings: heavy making out, sex between underage characters (not described in detail), use of 'fag' and 'fairy' as homophobic slurs, bullying. tommy hagan is his own trigger warning. steve being a douchebag. if you're uncomfortable with the slurs and bullying scene, you can skip from "When summer ends and school finally begins" to "Steve goes straight to their hickory tree after school". author's note: happy stonathan saturday! steve's still just a prince here, but the crowning of the King will come, unfortunately. steve's car is a 1983 bmw 733i and started being produced as of september 1982. let's just pretend steve got one of the very first models okay? lmao

They come back from Illinois and Steve’s father introduces him to the Hagans’ son, Thomas, and demands Steve to be that kid’s new best friend. The Hagans are the Harringtons’ closest business partners in Hawkins. Steve’s father is very strict, but Steve kind of understands because he wants Steve to take his place in the family’s business, and Steve wants to make his father proud so he hangs out with Thomas — Tommy, he likes it better.

Even if it bothers Steve that his father never wanted to meet Jonathan, even after Steve talked about him almost every day since they moved to Hawkins. But Steve was getting used to not being listened by his parents anymore.

Tommy is a little mean, but mostly in a funny way. When Steve tells him about Jonathan, he mocks him — “why are you hanging out with children, Harrington?” — but Steve takes it as just a joke, especially because it’s just one year of difference. And thinks that when Tommy gets to know Jonathan next school year, he’ll know how great Jonathan is.

Steve doesn’t tell Tommy about the kisses. He doesn’t know if Tommy can be trusted with that information, or if he’s gonna throw that word at Steve like his old classmates did with Matty Boswell.

The end of the school year is brutal and again Steve barely has time to go to the woods behind his backyard. On the days he’s able to go, his and Jonathan’s paths never cross — he must be busy as well.

But as summer comes back around, they meet again. Summer is theirs.

They meet under the hickory tree and they hug tightly, Jonathan’s arms wrap around Steve’s waist and it feels really good. He missed Jonathan every day, thought about him every day. He takes Jonathan’s face between his hands and looks at him closely. He’s grown. Still scrawny, but he’s taller and his bowl cut is growing to better frame his face. The sunbeams still paint him golden.

Steve kisses him and his pink lips are still soft.

They sit under the hickory tree and they still have so much to talk about. They’re both thrilled for Jonathan to finally join High School, when they’ll be able to see each other every day. Jonathan has new favorite bands and songs, and he shows them to Steve, makes him a mixtape that Steve listens to almost every night.

Once a week Steve hangs out with Tommy because otherwise his father will be pissed. Steve’s gotta have the contacts. Tommy asks what Steve does during the rest of the summer, and he says he’s busy helping his mom with some house renovations or with his dad at his home office.

Steve doesn’t know why he lies.

Not a full lie, actually, he says he still meets Jonathan now and then, just doesn’t tell Tommy that it’s basically every day. Or what they do besides talking and listening to music.

Jonathan’s dad, who took out all his peace of mind last year, leaves that summer. Jonathan says he goes to Indianapolis, and that he even tried to convince Jonathan to go too. As if he’d want to. He’s very happy now that his house wasn’t filled with screams from his parents and he doesn’t have to distract his younger brother from all the fights.

That also means he has more time to go to their forest, and so they spend more mornings together besides all the afternoons.

They venture and explore further.

Steve learns how to give open mouthed kisses in ways that make Jonathan sigh and whimper (and if Steve’s lucky, Jonathan moans), and Jonathan figures out that if he pulls Steve’s shirts collars down, he can give him hickeys that will remain covered. Steve discovers the softness of Jonathan’s stomach skin and Jonathan counts the moles on Steve’s arms.

The butterflies never cease to party, and Jonathan’s lips get more pink with time.

Memorizing each other’s arms and torsos is adventurous and Steve feels brave as he did one year before when he starts pulling Jonathan to his lap as he sits against the hickory tree. Their movements feel like a dance and Steve goes higher than ever before as they pant and Jonathan buries his face on Steve’s neck. They pull each others’ hair and when Steve gets home that night his shorts go straight to the washer machine after only one use, and the problem is not the mud on the back of the legs.

Steve spends the morning and afternoon of his birthday with Jonathan, who makes him another mixtape and brings him a cake that his mom helps him make. It’s Steve’s favorite flavor, and they eat it all in just one sitting, and they kiss a lot later and Jonathan tastes of strawberry and Steve thinks he’s delicious.

When Steve gets home, Tommy swings by and takes him to a party. There’s so many people there, and they wish Steve a happy birthday and they hug him and it all feels good. They play truth or dare as if they were twelve again, and Steve has to kiss a girl on a dare and she’s a good kisser and her lipgloss is strawberry flavored, but Steve can only think about how much better it tasted on Jonathan’s mouth. Tommy and Steve take multiple shots through the night, and it all tastes horrible, but he feels dizzy in a nice way and the headache the next day is not much of a bother when he thinks of how much fun he had.

He doesn’t tell Jonathan about the strawberry lipgloss girl. He doesn’t know why.

Steve goes to the public pool one day with Tommy and other friends of his, and when they go to the restrooms to wash out all the chlorine, they leave empty shower stalls in between each of them as if a double set of walls is more reassuring against the perils of another naked man.

Steve thinks about how he wanted Jonathan to be there, wearing nothing but short tight trunks, the golden spots on his hair shining under the sun and his pale skin all wet.

Steve manages to stay quiet, but his shower takes longer than the rest of them.

When he finally exits the lockers, one of Tommy’s friends — Bryan, Steve thinks — mocks him. “What took you so long, Harrington? All the naked boys got you too excited?” he cackles, and so do Tommy and his other friends, and Steve rolls his eyes, but his shoulders are tense and he doesn’t feel brave.

No, not all the naked boys. Just a particular one.

Steve doesn’t answer that.

“As if you rat-looking asses would get anyone excited. Not even if I was a girl, dickweed,” he says instead and they all cackle again and Steve feels safe enough.

He decides then and there that we would probably never trust Tommy — much less Bryan, or anyone else — with the information of what he does with Jonathan under the hickory tree. He knows that they would be the type of people to scream nasty words at Matty Boswell for not kissing Sharon Blake. They would scream nasty words at Steve.

They go to the pool other times and Steve likes it enough to try and join the swimming team as well when school starts back. He tells his parents and they smile, “good job, Steven” this and “you’ll get a great sports scholarship to college, Steven” that. Steve’s not thinking about colleges or scholarships, he just likes swimming and playing basketball. But he doesn’t say anything, just smiles back and thanks them.

When he tells Jonathan, he smirks, puts his hands on Steve’s belly under his tee and says, “I’ll be there to see you all wet on tiny swim trunks,” and Steve laughs because he understands the desire.

They make out and Steve soars high again and it’s another pair of shorts straight to the washer machine.

When summer ends and school finally begins, Steve barely sleeps the night before the first day. He’ll finally see Jonathan every day, maybe they’ll have some classes together, they’ll get to eat lunch at the same table. He’s excited to introduce Jonathan to Tommy, and even though they have nothing in common maybe they can get to like each other. Steve and Jonathan had nothing in common as well, but they were doing just fine. Tommy can come around.

Except that when he gets to school’s first day in his brand new car — his father gave it to him for his sixteenth birthday and because he was so proud of Steve’s sports accomplishments — Tommy and Jonathan already know each other, apparently. Steve has a smile on his face when he sees them talking, but his smile falters as he leaves the car and comes close enough to actually hear the conversation.

“You penniless little fag. Not even your daddy could stand being in the same house as two fairies, of course,” Tommy’s voice is like an angry dog’s bark, and Steve’s heart constricts at the sound of it.

It’s that word again.

He feels like puking.

“What’s going on?” he asks once he’s close enough. Both Tommy and Jonathan look at him, and both smile — Tommy’s smile is wide and poisonous, and Jonathan’s is small and genuine. Steve doesn’t know who he should look at.

More students are coming in, and they are stopping and staring at the commotion right in front of the school’s entrance. Steve wonders why there’s no adult around. There should be an adult around, maybe they could stop this, disperse the crowd. Steve doesn’t think he can do it alone.

“Harrington, you gotta be kidding me that this was your little summer friend,” Tommy spats out again. “Can’t be seen with these people, dude, you’ll get their sickness.”

“Shut the fuck up, asshole,” Jonathan bites back, and Steve’s never seen him that pissed.

“C’mon, Harrington,” Tommy says at last and Bryan spits into the floor next to Jonathan’s shoe before they walk towards the school’s entrance.

“Jonathan?” Steve asks, coming closer to his friend. Jonathan’s hands are balled into fists on his sides, and his cheeks are pink, but not in that beautiful blush that Steve likes to provoke on him. Steve looks at where Tommy and Bryan are still walking.

“It’s okay, Steve. We can talk later,” Jonathan says, and Steve looks at him again.

He assesses Jonathan’s features, his face, his shoulders, his arms. He doesn’t seem hurt. Steve wants to touch him, bring him into a hug. He doesn’t know why doesn’t do it.

“LET’S GO, Harrington, the fuck you’re still doing there?” Tommy yells, and Steve looks at him again. He’s still smirking as if he had won the fight.

“Go, Steve. We can talk later,” Jonathan repeats and Steve looks at him again.

His chest feels tight, and his stomach is swirling but it’s not his well-known butterflies partying, not anymore. He’s so nervous. He wants to puke.

He goes after Tommy.

Steve goes straight to their hickory tree after school, he doesn’t even enter his house. Just parks the Bimmer in the driveway, contours the property and goes right into the forest. He’s silently praying and hoping that Jonathan will do the same.

He does, but not exactly.

Steve’s there for at least an hour, maybe two, waiting until Jonathan finally shows up. He’s not smiling as he sees Steve, he’s got a scowl that Steve knows matches his fierceness, but doesn’t match his sweetness. Jonathan is fierce, and he is brave and he puts up the scowl to berate the world. He lets it down in their forest, under their hickory tree, and all he shows Steve is sweetness.

He’s got a scowl facing Steve now. It feels wrong.

Steve runs to him, but holds himself at the last second, afraid that hugging Jonathan will make it worst somehow. They just stop in front of each other and stare.

“I’m so sorry,” Steve says after a while, and he’s getting misty eyed and he hates it.

“You didn’t do anything,” Jonathan answers, but that’s not an apology either.

“I didn’t stop him. I didn’t tell him to stop, he was being horrible, he called you-” Steve stops himself, the taste of the word on the tip of his tongue making him nauseous again. “How did he even know?”

“You didn’t tell him?” Jonathan asks and for a second his scowl seems to soften.

“Of course not! He’s mean sometimes, and it’s mostly in a funny way, but I know I couldn’t trust him with this,” with us, he wants to say. “Bryan’s even worst. They teased me one day at the pool, and I just knew. I don’t wanna put us in danger, I know this is…”

He doesn’t wanna say ‘wrong’. It doesn’t feel wrong, it never did, to have Jonathan in his arms, or to hold his face gently, or to kiss his soft lips. It could never feel wrong, but he knows that’s how the world sees it anyway.

He doesn’t finish his sentence.

Jonathan starts walking towards their hickory tree and Steve follows. They sit with their backs against it, as they always do, but their pinkies are not intertwined this time.

Steve’s chest is still tight, and his stomach is still swirling, and he still wants to cry. He doesn’t, because it’s not fair. He’s not the one who’s been bullied, and Tommy and Bryan didn’t even talk to him about it through the rest of the day — he says that to Jonathan. They didn’t tease him, didn’t associate Steve with Jonathan, didn’t make the connection that if Jonathan was… that, it meant Steve already was too. They had no idea. Nothing happened to him, it all happened to Jonathan, and yet Jonathan has the scowl of fierceness and Steve’s the one who wants to cry like a coward.

Jonathan rests his head against Steve’s shoulder at some point, and he holds his hand in between them and it almost feels right. The air is still tense, though, and it’s not the same. Steve’s so scared that it won’t ever be the same again.

“Maybe we don’t… talk at school,” Jonathan’s voice is small when he says it after a lot of time in silence, and it doesn’t seem fierce at all.

“But that’s not what I want. It’s not what we planned,” Steve answers, and he’s misty-eyed again, and he hates it.

“It’s for the best. I don’t wanna get you in trouble, and I know your dad will be pissed if he hears about all this. We’ll still have the forest.”

Steve just hums, not trusting that his voice won’t break if he tries to say anything. Jonathan is right, and he’s smarter than Steve so that must be the right thing to do, to follow what he says. Steve’s father will get pissed, he remembers the disgust in his voice when he said that word that time long ago. He remembers how his father pressures him so hard to hang out with Tommy. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, though. Actually, because it’s all true, maybe it hurts even more.

Plus, it won’t bring Jonathan into danger as well. That’s the priority, actually, not Steve’s problems with his dad. God, that’s what Steve should be thinking about, not being selfish.

 They stay silent for the rest of what feels like another hour, and the sun’s not setting yet when Jonathan gets up. Steve follows.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Steve asks, taking Jonathan’s hand.

“Yeah, I’ll try to come if I don’t have much homework.”

“You’re a nerd,” Steve teases, and Jonathan swings their linked arms to the sides, back and forth. Steve’s butterflies wake up and party, even if a little lazily.

“You’re a dork,” Jonathan smiles, that tiny smile of his that blows Steve’s mind every time it’s directed at him.

“You still like me, though,” he says, not super certain of it, but he makes it sounds confident.

Jonathan leans in and kisses him. Their hands are still swinging in between them, Steve’s butterflies are still partying, and it almost feels like nothing bad had ever happened.

“I still like you, yeah,” Jonathan answers before giving Steve a final peck on the lips.

They part ways, and Steve walks a good bunch of steps before he looks back, as he always does. Jonathan is looking right back at him, as he always is. He’s not smiling, but he is looking.

They wave at each other and Steve goes home.

He cries himself to sleep.

Jonathan doesn’t show up the next day, or the next one. He shows up only on Friday and explains how he had a lot of homework, yes, but he was also taking care of his little brother. His mom was working double the time now that his dad had left, and with school back he was responsible for little Will more than he had to be during summer. That makes their meetings a little harder, and they go back to how it was the year before — once a week, twice if they’re lucky, they get to sit under their hickory tree and talk, listen to music, or kiss each other until their lips are numb. He gets a few more pants dirty, he gets some more of Jonathan’s pants ruined.

Sophomore year, of course, is tougher than freshman. Steve is having an even harder time keeping up with everything. It takes all of his time, the classes, the basketball, the swimming team. When he gets home he tries to do at least some homework, but it’s already hard to focus at school and it only gets worst when he’s alone. His friends are no help, and he doesn’t want to spend his free and only time with Jonathan, studying.

There’s that: his friends. And Jonathan. Separately.

Tommy feels powerful for having grown up a lot during last summer. He likes that he’s buffer, bigger, stronger. He likes that he’s not the youngest anymore, that he’s not at the bottom of the food chain. Bryan hypes him up with it, too, being the basketball team captain’s favorite, and he and Tommy feel unstoppable together.

They bully other kids a lot.

Steve doesn’t let them go near Jonathan.

He tries to stop them from going anywhere near anyone, to be honest. But it’s hard to go against two of them, so if he can only stop them once, he does it when they try to set Jonathan as their target. Tommy looks up to Steve a lot, maybe because Steve’s father is technically Tommy’s father’s boss. And Bryan and Tommy share a single brain cell. So, Steve feels somehow powerful too when he tells Tommy-Bryan to do something, and they follow Steve’s words as a command.

Sometimes he has to drag their attention elsewhere. To someone else. He feels like shit for it. But when he meets Jonathan for another week in their forest and he’s not sporting a sour mood, a scowl on his face or a bruised eye, Steve feels like maybe it’s worth it.

That’s his routine through September. Steve tries studying throughout the week, sees Jonathan on Fridays and hangs out with Tommy on Saturdays. At first, they hang out at each other’s houses, or at Bryan’s (Steve hates it. He hates Bryan). They steal some of their parents’ beers, they tease each other for their porn magazines (Tommy’s and Bryan’s. Steve doesn’t have any), they bitch about school and teachers and colleagues, they have sleepovers and it’s cool.

October changes that.

As the basketball team captain’s favorite, Bryan starts getting invited to parties, and he drags Tommy and Steve with him.

That’s his routine through October. Steve tries studying throughout the week, sees Jonathan on Fridays and goes to parties with Tommy on Saturdays. They get crazier and crazier every time, stuff Steve’s never seen before, and they’re nothing like that almost innocent party on his birthday during summer. There’s drinks much stronger than beer or vodka, there’s drugs sometimes, there’s games more malicious than truth or dare.

Steve gets dragged into a closet for seven minutes in heaven on Halloween. He doesn’t remember the girl’s name. He remembers he was dressed as Perseus and she was dressed as Andromeda, both from Clash Of The Titans. He remembers she tasted of strawberry, and he found it funny that every girl at school apparently had the same lipgloss. She was such a good kisser, not that Steve had a lot to compare, but she was better than what he had felt so far. She licked Steve’s neck and she scratched his tummy under his sweater, and she loosened his belt before kneeling and doing something no one else had ever done before. Her mouth was warm and wet and Steve was embarrassed at how fast the seven minutes passed by.

When he meets Jonathan next Friday, Steve doesn’t tell him about the girl. Jonathan knows Steve goes to parties, and Steve tells him all about the rest of the stuff, but he doesn’t mention the girl. He feels guilty, because she was a better kisser, and she did something with him that he hadn’t done with Jonathan yet. And mostly because he wants to do it again.

She didn’t make his butterflies party, because they partied for Jonathan only, but his stomach still felt dizzy as it does when you’re about to fall on a roller-coaster. He and Jonathan never gave a name to what they have, and he doesn’t know if a blowjob that lasted three minutes inside a closet is considered cheating, but he feels as guilty as if it is.

So he doesn’t tell Jonathan about it. And he retreats.

He misses a few of their meetings on purpose because he feels that if Jonathan even looks at him a certain way, he’ll talk. So he goes to more parties, and he kisses more girls, and he feels more guilty. But Tommy’s happy that they hang out more, and he’s much nicer when he’s happy. Steve learns very fast how to please, both Tommy’s need for antics and the girls he keeps being dragged into lockers with. And it’s thrilling, and it feels so good, until he remembers Jonathan and then it doesn’t.

November comes around and Steve’s guilt is just as big as his ego. He, Tommy and Bryan are the talk of the school because they are the baby sophomores that bring joy to every party, and the basketball team captain loves them and puts them all under his wing. Steve loves to sit with them in the cafeteria, he loves the little flirty notes left on his locker and the charged looks at the hallways, he loves when girls older than him playfully fight for his attention, he loves when he first marks a tree pointer at a basketball game and the cheerleaders scream his name.

What was at first a conscious guilty retreat turns into unconscious forgetfulness. Steve misses a few other meetings with Jonathan at the forest, not because he forces himself not to go, but because he actually gets caught up with other people who drag him to other places, and he forgets he should’ve gone to their forest that day.

He almost misses Jonathan’s birthday again because of it, and this time it would have been entirely his fault.

He reaches their hickory tree as the sun is almost setting — their cue to leave on regular days. He’s been too caught up with Tommy after swim practice, deciding who would drive who to Tina Douglas’ party the next day, and he might have crossed the speed limit going back to his house when he noticed what time it was. Afraid that Jonathan had left already, tired of waiting for him. And Steve wouldn’t have blamed him.

But he is still there, arms crossed and the scowl on his face that made Steve’s chest ache.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Steve says as he approaches Jonathan, who rolls his eyes.

“You missed the last two Fridays already,” he notes and Steve doesn’t even remember that it had been that long since they last saw each other.

“I know,” he lies. “I’m really sorry. There’s a swimming competition at the end of the month and coach is on our necks about it.” That isn’t a complete lie. It isn’t the truth about why he is late that day, though.

“It’s almost winter,” Jonathan says, and they’re still standing up and Jonathan’s arms are still crossed. And that feels wrong.

“Still fall even if it’s a cold one,” Steve corrects. “And the pool is heated, you would know if you came to see me like you promised you would,” Steve touches Jonathan’s elbow through all their layers. It’s getting harder to have their meetings out in the cold forest.

“Don’t think Hagan’s gonna be happy to see me there. Gonna call me some more slurs probably,” he answers and Steve feels guilty for bringing it up.

There’s a pregnant silence.

“Happy birthday.” Steve cuts it after a while, and he takes a step and touches Jonathan’s arm again. He smiles this time, and Steve’s butterflies wings flutter. “I have a gift for you, but it’s at my place. Maybe I can bring it to yours?”

Jonathan thinks about it while searching for something on Steve’s face, and maybe he finds it because his smile doesn’t falter as he does it, before answering:

“Yeah, sure.”

Steve’s grin is huge. “Do I have to go in through your window, or…?” he asks, and Jonathan chuckles.

“No, knock on the front door like a normal person. My mom probably won’t be there. She has the closing shift at the store. If you don’t run late again, maybe you won’t catch her.”

“And Will?” Steve’s happy that he won’t have to meet Jonathan’s mother, but the prospect of meeting his little brother is just as scary.

“Sleepover at his friend’s house,” he answers, and the smirk on his lips is nothing of sweetness and innocence, and Steve’s butterflies are going insane.

He grabs Jonathan’s face, and the kiss he plants on his lips is fast and hard and nothing sweet and innocent. They’re both red as they part, Jonathan’s lips glistening with spit and Steve is feeling burning hot in the middle of the coldest night of the month.

“I’ll be right there,” he says before a final peck, and Jonathan laughs, and Steve almost runs to his house. He can hear Jonathan’s laughter behind him, but he doesn’t look back.

He takes a quick shower, styles his hair as fast as he can, puts on his favorite yellow sweater and a nice cologne. He grabs Jonathan’s gift — special edition cassettes of his favorite bands — and tells his mother in the kitchen that he’s going to a friend’s birthday. Thankfully his father is locked up in his home office, otherwise Steve would probably have to tell him whose birthday he’s going to, and that wouldn’t be a nice conversation.

Sky’s dark by the time he leaves his house so he takes the car and the actual roads to get to the Byers’ house. He knows where it is at this point, Jonathan had led him to it through the forest once and Steve’s sense of direction is very good. It doesn’t take him more than five minutes to get there and he adjusts his hair one more time in the rearview mirror before leaving the car and knocking on the door.

“Hi,” Jonathan greets him, and he also bathed and cleaned up nice, and he’s wearing sweatpants that make Steve’s brain go a little fuzzy. “I like the sweater.” Steve wants him to take it off.

“Happy birthday again,” Steve hands him the gift, not neatly wrapped, as Jonathan steps aside to let him in.

He closes the door and nods towards the hallway, and Steve follows him to his room. There are posters of bands and movies that Steve already knew were Jonathan’s favorites, and a big stereo for him to listen to his cassettes. A little bookshelf on the other wall, but Steve doesn’t have the time to look at it before he hears Jonathan opening his gift behind him.

He turns around and notices immediately that Jonathan had closed the door before setting the box on his desk and opening it. He picks up a few cassettes and goes through them with a tiny smile on his lips. Steve approaches him from behind.

“I wasn’t sure which ones you already have, but… You can have them doubled, I guess,” he says with a low voice, a tentative touch to Jonathan’s hip, and doesn’t miss the way he shudders.

That’s his favorite thing about the whole thing, he came to learn: the way people react to him. The way Jonathan just shuddered, or the way he sighs against Steve’s lips when they make out. The way he whimpers and, if Steve’s lucky, moans, when he’s on Steve’s lap. The way girls cry out and beg him to go faster when he’s got his fingers inside their skirts. The way they all grab his hair and bury their faces in Steve’s neck when they reach their highs.

“This is great. Thank you,” Jonathan says. He picks one by The Who and starts it on the stereo before turning around to face Steve. “I love them.”

He’s staring deeply into Steve’s eyes and Steve feels like there’s more he doesn’t say. He feels it inside his chest too, that nonrhythmic beat, the crazy party inside his belly and he doesn’t hold himself back before grabbing Jonathan’s face and clashing their lips together again. It’s fast, and it’s desperate, and they push and pull at each other until they’re on Jonathan’s bed.

Steve kinda loses track of it all after that.

He loses track of what’s him and what’s Jonathan, who’s touching who and where, who’s making which sounds. They finally see each other, all of each other for the first time, and Jonathan’s heater is on but Steve doesn’t think that it’s what’s keeping the cold away. He kisses and licks and bites at every inch he can reach, he imitates on Jonathan what that girl he can’t remember the name did to him inside that closet, but he takes his time — longer than just seven minutes to take Jonathan to heaven. He lets Jonathan do the same to him and once they’re finished and sweaty and dirty and tired, they cuddle as if nothing bad had ever happened.

Steve doesn’t even remember the tension he had to cut through earlier in the forest. He doesn’t remember the girl’s name, he doesn’t remember Tina’s party tomorrow or the plans he did with Tommy. He doesn’t remember how this almost didn’t happen, that it wouldn’t have happened if he had arrived a few minutes late, and he doesn’t remember the guilt that had been eating him up the last month.

He only thinks of Jonathan.

Jonathan, who wraps his arm around Steve’s middle and sleeps with his face tucked into Steve’s neck. And Steve feels hazy. His butterflies take so long to calm down that he thinks they never will, but once they do he falls asleep too.

He only dreams of Jonathan.

Steve wakes up the next day with the sun hitting his face. Of course they had forgotten to close the drapes last night, they had more important things to do.

They’re still cuddling, but they turned around a bit and now Steve’s spooning Jonathan. The bed is small, so Jonathan’s arm is hanging from the edge of the bed and touching the ground.

The same sunbeam that had awakened him is touching Jonathan’s hair and painting it golden. Steve feels like he could stay in that moment forever.

But Jonathan’s clock is saying it’s almost ten, and Steve has to go back home before Joyce decides to wake her son up. So he leaves a trail of kisses on Jonathan’s naked shoulder and he mumbles and groans and Steve giggles until Jonathan wakes up.

He turns around, not leaving Steve’s embrace. “Morning,” he whispers, tucking his face to Steve’s neck again.

“Morning.” Steve lets his fingers run loosely across Jonathan’s back. “I gotta go, don’t wanna risk your mom coming in and waking us up.”

“Yeah, she’s not great at knocking,” Jonathan complains and they giggle again. “Thanks for stopping by yesterday, I had a great time.”

Steve can feel the heat of Jonathan’s breath and Jonathan’s cheeks against his own skin. He’s blushing. Steve can’t stop smiling, his face is hurting.

They get up and get dressed slowly, trying to stretch out the time they still have left together. Steve leaves through the window, the way he joked about coming in yesterday, and Jonathan leans against the stool.

“We should try the gift thing again this winter break,” he says and Steve nods.

“Do you think I can sneak in here more often? It’ll get harder to meet in the forest, it’s cold as fuck,” he says, rocking back and forth on his heels. Jonathan chuckles.

“We have to be very quiet.”

“I can be very quiet.” He winks and Jonathan smirks.

Steve holds himself up, hands right on top of Jonathan’s, their pinkies intertwining. They kiss slowly and gently, but there’s a new heat in it that makes Steve feel like he’s on a roller coaster again. That thrill of it. He swears he’s about to fly away, the only things keeping him on the ground are Jonathan’s pinky and Jonathan’s lips.

“Dork,” Jonathan says as they separate.

“I like you too.” Steve likes him so much.

Steve finally wills his feet to walk him towards the street, and seeing his car there makes him realize that Joyce probably knows he was there, if she came in from work and saw it parked in front of her house. His cheeks burn for a second, but he still can’t tear the smile off of his lips.

He’s almost reaching the Bimmer when he looks back, as he always does. Jonathan is draped over the window, barely visible on the side of his house, but he’s looking right back at Steve, as he always is.

They smile and they wave at each other and Steve goes on.

He doesn’t know that’s the last time he’ll see Jonathan this year. His butterflies are still partying, oblivious.

[onedayimgonnasnap]

Ok so I’m gonna give you another request(at this point I’m gonna take up most of them LMAO) but it’s a little less chaotic(you can make it more chaotic though if you want 💀)

If you don’t know MC is actually good with children(it was shown in a event at some point) so can do you a fic where Lance and MC are taking care of Christoph at the academy(so like in the future of after the chaos of her and Christoph being brought to one of Iritium’s hidy places) cuz it’s safer there then whenever Christoph was staying before and Christoph is like “Ya know, I don’t remember my parents but if I had to guess, you two are the closest to them” and MC’s heart just melts cuz that’s the cutest thing she’s ever been told and Lance is like 😦😶🫢😅🥹(cuz istg they’re adorable, like father like son and like brother like brother) and Lance has already had a crush on MC by this point so when he registers what was said about them being a mother and father figure to Christoph he’s like “Ay me and MC having a family doesn’t sound so ba- wait what”

I just find this a really cute idea haha

This is really cute- Awe 😭😭 Ngl this is my first time writing this cute, I’m used to writing chaotic fics more because they’re funnier to me 💀. And I don’t mind how much times you ask lol

Anyways ahem-

Lance X Reader

~The Cottage Life~

Warning: Just a little bit of cursing (I don’t know what you expect from me 💀) Also gross fluff-

TW: Children

After you and Lance graduated from the academy officially, everyone of the princes and Valets started to fulfill their duties in the kingdom.

You and Lance decided to go run off somewhere with Christoph, Robin and Grusha with the full support of the princes helping you out and keeping where you both are hidden.

That leads you prior to now, you all found a abandoned cottage in the forest near a small village that are out fast leading people to not recognize any of you.

The cottage was rundown, full of dust, cobwebs, pest and such. But it seemed perfect at least, it has three bedrooms which you all split up, two bathrooms, a kitchen and a dusty living room which would sure be troublesome fixing but it could work.

It took you all months to finally renovate the cottage, but in the end it was all worth it. It finally felt like home, you and Lance both got separate jobs around the small village while Christoph would stay home protected by the fierce wolf and cat.

Lance felt at peace finally after many years of his old life, he was finally free of everything around it, he was undoubtedly happy.

He does have his worries sometimes about you though, longing to be something more than friends but to prideful to say anything about it.

Of course he had his moments out of nowhere he would bring animals home using his puppy eyes to keep him while you kicked his ass to the curb outside when he brought in a camel that one time.

Christoph also seems to enjoy this all, he has fun playing games with you and Lance, not worrying about the dangers out in the world.

He never had a real family up until now, he heard you say once that you all were like a family the other day and he felt extremely joyful over it. He cares about you and Lance with all his being.

.

.

.

You all were sitting in the living room playing a card game while Robin and Gruscha were exploring the forest together.

You were in the lead since you and your parents used to be extremely good at board games in general during family game night.

Lance banged his head in the table clearly frustrated looking at you with his brows furred together.

You teasingly smirked at him, “Aw what’s the matter Lance? You want your baby bottle? You give up already” You smiled teasing him even more

“What ever MC I’ll get it next time it’s just my luck.” He said glaring at you.

“Haha yeah right luck.” You said while giggling and rolling your eyes.

Christoph smiled looking at you both, he was clearly having a good time he then spoke; “Ya know, I don’t remember my parents but if I had them you two would be closest to them.”

You then started coughing trying to hide the blush growing on your face. Lance wasn’t doing anything better he put his head down with his ears showing how flustered he was.

Christoph clearly not clueless looked back and forth at you both smiling, knowing what was happening.

“Christoph don’t say things like that out of nowhere.”MC said looking away with a red face.

Lance looked up suddenly secretly amused at the sight of MC blushing his heart started racing, ‘I mean it wouldn’t be that bad if we were all a- WAIT NO’

Lance soon shook the thought out of his mind.

Christoph watched as you both were having your identity crisis.

“Well I’m gonna go upstairs in my room and take a nap.” Christoph said making a fake big yawn while walking up the stairs in a hurry leaving you and Lance alone.

…

You looked back down at Lance to take a peek at his reaction to realize how flustered he looked, you then smiled, realizing you have a chance if you play it cool.

“So Lance wanna play the dad of our happy family?” You winked, and cringed secretly at your bad attempt at flirting.

Lance looked up and blushed a little more looking hard into your eyes, you both stared at each other clearly both nervous.

“Well, I think I should go finish my novel in my room.” You said while quickly getting up on your feet running upstairs to avoid the awkwardness of the whole situation.

Lance soon snapping out of his thoughts, watched you book it up the stairs fast before he could say anything to you, he then looked down to his hands all of the sudden disappointment.

.

.

.

After a few hours passed, it is now night. You were on your bed tucked in reading a good mystery novel.

Robin decided to sleep with Christoph which you didn’t mind because lately Robin has been getting a habit of sleep talking and kicking you in his sleep.

You put the book down all of the sudden with a certain memory of your poor attempt at flirting crossed your mind. Never to let you live it down, you put a pillow to your face rolling around and then hitting your head on the pillow trying to get rid of the embarrassing thought.

… knock knock

Pulled you out of your thoughts. You assumed it was Christoph trying to convince you take backs for Robin.

So you got up and opened the door to see Lance staring down at you with pink tinted cheeks looking away.

“Hello?” You spoke asking him thinking of anything else to hide the blush trying to get on your face.

“… May I come in to speak with you?” He asked still looking at the back of my room avoiding eye contact.

“Sure- I don’t mind at all.” You embarrassingly spoke to quickly.

“Here Lance come on in,”

Lance soon stood in the middle of the room as you took a seat on your bed. He walked towards you and crouched down to you level looking directly at you eyes and whispered in your ear…. “I love you”

You then looked up at him while your heart started beating so fast, you whisper the same affirmation as him as well.

“I love you too Lance”

Lance pulled out a small smile which was rare but everytime you saw it you adored it.

“May I kiss you?” He looked away embarrassed he asked you.

You pulled him down and kissed his lips he then kissed you back passionately.

You both were kissing until-

“MC? Lance?” Christoph came into the room shocked and clearly traumatized at the scene.

Robin and Gruscha were behind him clearly also traumatized at the scene.

[cookinguptales]

Finding Salome, or why the Met probably never wants me to come back

So I decided kind of on a lark to go to the Met yesterday (despite already being fairly tired and achy) and it was largely to go see the Japanese religious art currently on rotation, but then I remembered Salome.

Now, my What We Do In The Shadows pals will recognize Henri Regnault's Salome as the painting that was used for the basis of the Nadja painting in the show.

I'd seen photos of the painting before, but WWDITS was admittedly what got me to pay real attention to it. But... I mean, it's a beautiful painting. The fabric work is just genuinely exquisite, and I've really come to love it.

So when I'm told that one of the big galleries is closed for renovations so I'll have to go through European Paintings to get to the Asian art wing, I'm like excellent, I'll go visit Nadja.

I am cheerful at this point. I am making friends with all the docents, who are happy to point this overgrown toddler with a pink sparkly cane to where she wants to go.

(I.. had just come from brunch at the Barbie Cafe and had my overnight backpack and was giving big First Day At School vibes.)

But then I get to the European paintings and I am confused. Okay, I get why there's the giant line of people. The Karl Lagerfeld thing or whatever. But why are all these galleries on the other side roped off? They're all listed as open online.

I meander my way through the area, enjoying the art and getting increasingly nervous as I realize a lot of galleries are roped off, and it doesn't look like it's for temporary clean-up or something. And then I get to the back and!!! heartbreak!!!

hopes!!! dashed!!

Being real with you guys, I have very shitty vision and I know that doesn't look that far, but I could barely see it.

(-13 glasses prescription gang rise up)

So... I immediately start asking for help. First I ask the nearest security guard. "Why ropes??? Where Salome?????" I said, but like. Nicely and politely and more eloquently than that.

HE DIDN'T KNOW. He said he wasn't sure, but maybe there wasn't enough security to man all the galleries and the Karl Lagerfeld exhibit.

(KARL LAGERFELD, I thought, DEAD AS FUCK AND STILL RUINING THE FAT GIRLIES' LIVES.)

He told me that he wasn't sure what was going on, but that I should go find his supervisor, who was wearing a gray suit. I did look for this supervisor, but couldn't find him. But I start asking around. A few other security guards. Two different docents.

The second docent feels bad for me because at this point I am just like ;o; salomeeee

She tells me I can sit down in her seat (thank you ma'am) and she'll ask around. She comes back, though, and tells me that she still doesn't know and I should go down to the info desk on the first floor.

(She also tells me that maybe I can tell my teacher what happened and I'll be okay. "Teacher?" I ask. "For school," she said, assuming that this was all for some assignment. Then she pauses, and hazards. "Or maybe a professor?" "Oh no, this isn't for school; I just really want to see the painting," I said, and silently added, and also I am 33. I realize at this point that I actually do look like an infant today lmao.)

So... I go down to the info desk. I ask one person. She does not know what I'm talking about. Literally all like... 6-7 people I have asked at this point have been like "idk?? it's supposed to be open??"

She gets a different info desk guy. He's like, well, I guess security roped it off. (??? yes I know that part, I'm asking why and if it'll get UNroped at some point.) And I am like. Sir. I have come all this way to see this painting. (This is not actually the case but it was definitely starting to feel that way.) Sir. No, I cannot come back in a few days. I am going back to California. (Not.... strictly untrue, if misleading.)

He says, somewhat kindly, that once he went all the way to the UK to see a painting and it wasn't on display, so he knows it sucks. So I bring up the the website. I show him that it says that Salome is indeed on display.

He says, I'll make some calls. So he goes away and comes back and tells me that he spoke to security ("the gray suit man..." I think) and it has indeed been roped off for the whole day and can I come back tomorrow? "no," I say, in a lot of pain and genuinely near tears at this point, "I go home in a few hours."

(This man thinks, oh, to California. I am actually going home to Philadelphia, but I am indeed flying to California in a few days to live with my parents like I do every summer while it's too hot for me to safely live on the east coast. Chronic illness life, etc.)

So... the guy pulls a ticket voucher out of his coat. He gives me a ticket for free admission that does not expire. "This is all I can do," he says.

I take the ticket.

I am so depressed at this point. I did not come here only to see Salome, but I really wanted to see her. And now I desperately wanted to see her. It just felt so unfair, somehow, to rope off all these paintings that people could have come from all over the world to see just so dead-ass Karl Lagerfeld could soak up all the security. Like... you just charged me $30 admission to this museum! The fact that you couldn't hire enough security to start with feels like a sham! Isn't this exact shit the kind of stuff the Met Gala is supposed to pay for in the first place? Isn't it supposed to fundraise to put together these exhibits and fund the Costume Institute? They raised $17 million last year! Can they not afford their own fucking security?

I digress.

So I trudge back up through the European paintings hall to go see the Asian art on the second floor. I glare at the Karl Lagerfeld line. I decide to go for one more far-away look at Salome.

So I go. And I look. And there, on the far side of the gallery, I notice movement by the other door.

I see someone get on the elevator.

And I'd known there was an elevator back there, but I kind of assumed it was inaccessible to the general public now. But the person who got on the elevator looked like they were probably a tourist. Like me!!

So I look at my map and see that there's another way to the particular room Salome is in, and it's through... I shit you not, the Iran/Ottoman wing.

(lmao)

I immediately rush off to find Nadja through The Nandor Wing and it's actually a very lovely part of the museum that a lot of people skip but I was in no mind to be normal about it.

But I find my way through the wing, moving admittedly a lot more slowly at this point, and -- SUCCESS.

I still cannot get into the room, but I can get a hell of a lot closer. Especially if I just kinda. Lean over the ropes a little.

This isn't as crowded a part of the museum, being honest, and not many people come by as I'm marveling at Salome.

(Look, I've been trying to see this painting for over an hour. I'm going to take my time with it.)

I do at one point hear a guy behind me say, "Oh, can we not go in here?"

"NO," I say. "They won't let anyone in. I've asked like five times."

It's said like a joke, and it's also untrue. I have asked a lot more than five times.

I turn to laugh with this guy and make room for him to come up to the ropes and see in and then I see him

behind us

A MAN IN A GRAY SUIT.

I see the badge on him and I know exactly who he is. He is waiting to get on the elevator and he is looking at me with recognition and exhaustion in his eyes.

I realize then that he has just seen me hanging half of my entire fucking body over the ropes so I could get a better picture.

I look at him. He looks at me.

He gets on the elevator.

I go back to taking selfies with Salome.

Look at this pleased with herself bitch. lmao

FORREAL THO, wwdits fan or not you should go look at that painting if you ever have the chance. It is SO shiny and it really does look like she's wearing golden clothing. It's so pretty, I looked at that skirt for ages.

Anyway, after this I eventually went to the Asian art wing, only to find that I'd been given incorrect information and there wasn't an accessible route on this floor at all.

I never had to enter European Paintings to start with. :')