#which i'll be glad to clear up if anyone would ask

[hollylovely]

sooooo just a lil confession

i haven't watched jimmy's smp streams and it's honestly because of that one newlife stream where scott teleports jimmy where jimmy gets stuck and dies

now i maybe just projecting onto jimmy but i really do think he got really panicked that he became unable to think clearly at the time and wasn't able to pull out his shovel (which was in his hotbar) to dig out

i also think that at the time, his body (in this case, his fingers/hand on the mouse) was moving faster than he could think which may be also why he trued to use his pickaxe instead of his shovel

and i genuinely could feel his disappointment right after his unsuccessful attempt at digging himself out

i got upset when, after he got revived/respawned, scott and the others (i can't remember if it was just scott but i'll put the others there as well) (also i refuse to watch that stream again) immediately went on about why he didn't get himself out and why he left himself die (although scott apologized then, i still felt like they were entirely blaming jimmy only here)

then i got even more upset when i saw the chat filled with "YOU HAD A SHOVEL IN YOUR HOTBAR!!!" and "why did you use a pickaxe lol" and the vod's comment section also had comments like that and comments basically saying "it's literally jimmy's fault lol" and "it's your fault jim, you had a shovel in your hotbar" (so again, blaming jimmy here)

uhhhh again, i maybe projecting only but yeah, i refuse to watch another smp livestream after that incident (i've also been kind of on and off when it comes to watching the streams during esmp2 because of the toy jokes and all that) (i think this newlife stream may have been the last straw for me??? idk)

[iluvmattsbeard]

older (m.s)

master list

student! matt sturniolo x professor! reader

warnings: HEAVY smut/oral (female receiving)/fingering/p in v/creampie/swearing

preview: 18 year old student Matt is a freshman in college. you are his professor who is 28 years old. Matt is a phenomenal student. but during lectures, he can’t help but check out his professor, fantasizing about you. you tell him it’s unprofessional for you to pay more attention to him than any other student. you also tells him you're too old for him which, he tries to prove to you you're wrong.

*not proof read*

a/n: i’m doing a collab with @mwahsturns ! go check out her version of Matt being the professor, click here ,this is my version of the reader being professor! i’m so glad I had the opportunity of working with her. she is lovely and absolutely amazing overall. i hope to do this again. if anyone would also like to collab with me in the future, let me know!

even though Matt was pursuing his YouTube career with his brothers, Matt wanted to do something on his own. in videos, he is known to spread light on mental health and anxiety. as he did some research, he found a community college that fit his standards. he wanted to major in psychology and hopefully see where it takes him. his brothers supported his decision and he couldn't be anymore excited. he enrolled himself and got in immediately. today was his first day and he was currently packing his back pack. "are you sure you'll be able to handle all of this?" his brother Nick asks. Matt was in the middle of shoving his books in his bag, "yes Nick. i'll be okay. i'm just going to see if this is right for me. if it's not, then i'll stick to YouTube." he responds while zipping up the bag in front of him.

"okay I was just making sure." Nick says getting up from the bar stool in the kitchen. "alright, i'm all set. i'll see you guys later." Matt says putting on the back pack and picking up his car keys. Chris and Nick both say good bye to him and he walks out, heading to his car. as soon as he put the address in his navigation, he noticed the estimated arrival time and muttered under his breath, "fuck." it was not going to be a good first impression he thought. when he finally got on campus, he headed straight to his class. he got to the door and opened it, walking inside to see all the students turn and look at him. "you're late." he hears a woman say. he turns to look at you. you had your back facing towards the class as you wrote something on the whiteboard.

you turn around and he locks eyes with yours. "what's your name?" you ask walking over to your desk. "Matthew." he says eyeing you. "okay Matthew, you may take a seat. I'll let it slide since it's your first day." you respond looking up from your computer to catch his stare. Matt nods and walks to an empty seat. he didn't expect his professor to look the way you did. he looked at the board to see your name. "miss L/n..." he whispers to himself. Matt kept his eyes on you as you spoke, "Matthew, you can ask the person next to you to copy their notes that I previously had up. go over it and try to catch up okay?" Matt nods and does as you say. as he took notes, he couldn't help but get distracted by the professor. your white button up shirt with your hair both placed in front of your shoulders, your long black pencil skirt, stockings, and black heels. he couldn't keep his eyes off you.

as time went by, Matt was always on top of his work. his focus was always there in lectures. he didn't really find the subject of the class all that interesting but, his professor was all he cared about. he wanted to stand out and to do so, he needed to focus on what you were teaching about so he could stay on top. Matt was never good in school but, this was different. after one of the lectures, he decided to stick around as other students left. "is there something you need Matthew?" you ask looking up at him. he was still sat in his seat as he clears his throat, "i'm having a little trouble accessing some material at home." he says lying. "let me take a look." you suggest to him. he gets up and walks over to you with his laptop. "you can call me Matt by the way." he adds on as he places the laptop in front of you. you smile a bit, "good to know." you respond and looks at his screen.

you began to open up the material that he claimed wasn't working. you look at him, "are you sure it wasn't working at home?" you ask. "it wasn't last night. I guess you have the magic touch." he says causing you to laugh, "I guess so. anything else you need help with?" you ask. he shakes his head, "not that I know of." he says taking his laptop off the desk. he starts to walk away but you call out to him, "wait Matt." he turns around and looks at you, "yes?" he asks. you stand up from your chair and smile, "I just want to tell you i'm highly impressed by your work. every single assignment you turn in, is beyond what I ask for." you complimented him. Matt grins before speaking, "I am being taught well." you laugh, "thank you. that just means i'm doing my job." you say clasping your hands together in front of you.

as more lectures go by, he couldn't help but start to fantasize about you. he started to imagine how he would look impressing you with something else he's good at beyond his assignments. the way you spoke, he could just imagine the way you would whisper in his ear. Matt would eye your buttoned shirt and imagine how he would undo it. his thoughts were soon interrupted by the professor clearing your throat, "Matt?" you call out. he gulps and looks up at your eyes instead of your blouse, "make sure you're paying attention." you say tapping on his desk before walking away. after class, you ask him to stick around. "are you okay?" you question him. he was sat across from you, "yes i'm fine. why?" he asks. you laugh a bit, "I could tell your mind was wondering off somewhere else. I just wanted to know if something was bothering you." you say as he stares at you. "oh yeah, i'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to." he responds.

"that's okay, just let me know what's on your mind next time." she suggests. Matt nods and it stays quiet for a bit. "how'd you get into teaching?" he asks breaking the silence. "it's a long story." you say laughing a bit. he has this blank face as he speaks, "I have time." your smile fades a bit as you let out a little breath, "well, it wasn't my first choice. I wanted to pursue in something more creative but to my parents it was more of a dream than a reality. I decided to get into education and well here I am." you continued to ramble but he catches you off guard with his next question, "what's your name?" you look at him, "that's a sudden question. my name is Y/n but don't get use to that." you say. "how old are you, Y/n?" he asks curiously and boldly. "none of your business." you respond as he grins, "i'm just trying to get to know you." you hesitate but eventually tell him, "i'm 28." you mutter out.

"are you married?" he asks making your eyes widen a bit, "no but, that's a very personal question. this is starting to get inappropriate." you say getting up from your chair. Matt gets up as well, "it's inappropriate to try to get to know you?" he asks. you turn to look at him, "it's inappropriate because i'm your teacher. i'm not somebody you need to know better." you respond. he puts on his back pack and smiles, "only innocent." he says walking out the classroom leaving you standing there alone.

a few days later, you were at your desk grading assignments as you notice Matt's work getting sloppy. you ask him to stay after class and he does so. it was all apart of his plan. "Matt, your recent assignments have been painfully hard to grade. you were doing good not too long ago, why are you being lazy with your work?" you ask in a serious tone. "i'm not quite sure. why don't you want me to get to know you?" he asks catching you off guard. "Matthew, we're talking about your work here." you say wanting to stick to the serious conversation. "are you scared Y/n?" he asks making you fix your posture, "it's miss L/n to you." you remind him. "answer my question. are you scared you might enjoy talking to me?" he says. "it's inappropriate." you say repeating yourself from last time. "is it inappropriate to ask what you like to drink?" he asks tilting his head a bit with a small smile.

"mainly iced coffee." you answer hoping to move on from the conversation, "now can we talk about your work?" you ask hoping he would cooperate but, he gets up and puts on his back pack, "i'll fix it." he says before walking out leaving you once again, in shock. you sat there wondering why he was acting the way he was.

the next day, you had your back facing the class as you wrote a check list on the board. as soon as you turned around, you do a double take of the iced coffee that was placed on your desk. you look up from it, eyeing Matt as he just grins and looks away to unzip his bag. unbelievable you thought. after the lecture, you ask him stick around as everyone else leaves. "Matt, don't start this." you say sternly. "what? I can't get you coffee for being a good teacher?" he says with a sly smile. you sigh, "that's nice of you but I know what you're doing." you say with your arms crossed. "what am I doing?" he asks not taking his eyes off of you. "you're trying to flatter me." you mutter out. he laughs and puts on his back pack. he looks at you up and down and greets you good bye as he walks out. "what are you up to..." you whisper to yourself.

when Matt arrived home, he began to do his assignments. "how has school been?" Chris asks before taking a sip of his Pepsi. Matt's eyes stayed on his computer, "not much to talk about." he says. Chris rolls his eyes a bit, "nice talking to you." he says. "there is this girl." Matt lets out. "who?" Chris asks now very interested. Matt looks at him, "none of your business." he laughs to himself as he remembers you telling him that. "then why bring it up?" Chris says with a blank face. Matt just laughs again and shakes his head.

the next few days, you start to notice Matt's work going back to being astounding. how is that possible? how did he do it so quickly? Matt continued to get you iced coffee every day. other students were starting to notice. as you sat there, you continue to look at Matt's work and you started to put the pieces together. the coffee, the inappropriate behavior, and he was purposely being sloppy before. you shut your computer as you look at him already staring at you. you felt a sort of shiver go down your spine as this look was different. his eyes were captivating in a way that made you feel disappointed in yourself for even thinking that. you look away and begin your lecture. after, you ask Matt to stick around once more.

"were you being sloppy on purpose?" you ask standing in front of his desk. "maybe." he responds with the same sly smile like always. you let out a sigh, "Matt, why are you doing this?" you ask. "doing what?" he asks trying to be innocent. you turn around and pick up the iced coffee on your desk, "the coffee every day, you wanting to get to know me, asking personal questions, and now I realize you were purposely trying to stay after class." you let out making him lean back in his seat. "and the question you asked the other day. if I was scared that i'll enjoy talking to you? seriously?" you add on.

he looks down and shakes his head with a smile. "what is so funny?" you question with your arms crossed. he looks back up at you, "do you really want to know?" he says. "yes I do." you respond waiting for him to explain. he sits up a bit as he places his arms on the desk, "I think about you constantly." he pauses for a bit, "do you think I wanted to fantasize about my professor?" he asks. you uncross your arms and gulp, "no one asked you to." you say. he laughs a bit, "yeah well I do. you make it hard for me to focus." he says making you look away, "then maybe you should transfer into a different class Matt." you suggest.

"are you sure you want that?" he says making you look at him. it stays quiet for bit as you both locked eyes. you look away quickly and turn around, "I can't do this." you say walking up to your desk. Matt gets up and walks behind you. you stop in front of your desk, placing your hands onto it. Matt gets closer behind you as he presses up against you slightly. you look ahead of you as you felt his presence. Matt moves your hair away by tucking it behind your ear as he gets closer to your ear. you gulp as you stand still, "are you sure you want me gone from your class Miss L/n?" he whispers in your ear. you felt a shiver roll down your spine, "i'm too old for you Matt." you whisper still looking ahead of you. "I'm of age you know." he lets out. "i'm still 10 years older than you..." you reply but he just continues, "just because I'm young, doesn't mean I don't know how to handle you." you let out a breath as he starts to run his hands on your waist, down to your hips.

"i'm your professor Matt..." you whisper. he smirks, "I know. but I can also teach you things." he says turning you around. he steps closer as you lean a bit against the desk, "like what?" you ask looking into his eyes. he picks you up by your waist as he places you on the desk. he was now standing in between your legs as he looks down at you, "I can teach you what it's like to feel good." he whispers. you gulp without breaking eye contact, "Matt..." you whisper back. he places his hands on your face as he pulls you in slowly, closer to his face. your lips were nearly touching, "tell me, do you want that?" he asks. you were filled with mixed emotions. the way you two were, if someone walked in, it would've been obvious what's about to happen. Matt rubs your cheek softly, "use your words." he says in a low tone. his words became more demanding as his eyes grew dark. "teach me then..." you whisper out. he immediately presses his hungry lips onto yours as he kept his hands on your face. your hands were placed on the desk as you leaned into the kiss.

you knew this was wrong but, it felt so right. Matt moves his hands down to your thighs as he places a good grip on them. he pulls you closer, making his grown erection touch your core. you moan out quietly from the sudden action as he then starts to unbutton your shirt slowly as he continues to kiss you with the same eagerness. you buck your hips a bit against his clothed cock as he finally got your shirt to come undone. he then pulls it open, moving it behind your shoulders. now you were mostly revealed at top as your blouse was low on your elbows.

he moves his lips to your neck as he places wet kisses, he begins to suck your skin as he finds your sweet spot, causing you to throw your head back a bit as your eyes went shut. Matt then moves away and looks down at your skirt. he pulls it up slowly, revealing your black lace panties. he begins to kneel down as he pulls them down. you look down at him as he makes eye contact with your wetness. "already so wet for me." he says before moving his head closer in between your legs. he spreads your legs apart slightly as he started to work his way to lick your folds.

your breathing started to go uneven as you let out a breath. he began to tongue the inside of your entrance as you kept your eyes on him. you ran your hand through his hair as you moan quietly. you don't remember the last time someone pleased you. he starts to run his tongue up and down your entrance as your eyebrows furrowed, making your mouth open slightly. the mixture of the wetness of his tongue and your natural wetness was driving you crazy. his tongue worked like magic. he then began to flick his tongue onto your clit as he stuck two digits into your core. you moan from the stimulation as your thighs started to close in. Matt looks up at you as he watches your face change from the way he was moving. his fingers started to go in and out of you as he then started to swirl his tongue around your throbbing clit.

you grip his hair even more as you kept eye contact with him. he was loving the view he had. the way your mouth kept letting out beautiful noises, he knew he was living up to his words. you buck your hips, wanting more from him. he removes his fingers from inside of you and pulls away. he stands back up and licks his lips. "you seemed to enjoy that." he says. "you're looking like you don't mind anymore miss L/n." he lets out as he starts to unbutton his pants. you look at his crotch as he pulls down his pants with his boxers. you felt yourself in between your legs ache. you needed him badly. he strokes his cock as he makes you look at him in the eyes, "do you still think you're too old for me?" he asks, "look how hard you made me." he adds on.

he then grabs you under your thighs, pulling you closer to him as he rubs his tip at your entrance. "M-Matt..." you whine out. "if only you could look at yourself right now. not so inappropriate now huh?" he says with a grin. he then pushes himself into you as you throw your head back from the way he began to stretch you out, "fuck." Matt moans out lowly. you moan at the way he started to thrust slowly. you didn't know if you could take all of him but, he made sure you did. he starts to thrust harder into you as he pushes himself deeper into you. you wrap your legs around him as you pull him into a kiss. he kisses back as he now starts to pound into you. this made you moan in between kisses. your one hand rested around his neck as the other gripped behind his hair.

"keep it down." he says while going back to kiss you, muffling your moans. you shut your eyes as you melt under him. he loved the way he was stuffing you right now. he was finally fulfilling his imagination. you started to push against his thrusts as he gripped your thighs. his thrusts were deep, making your eyes fog up. you didn't know it was possible to feel this good. especially, from your student. he pulls away from the kiss, biting your lip softly. he pushes you down onto the desk, causing some stuff to fall off. he puts your legs together as he continues to thrust at a fast pace. you cover your mouth as you moan into your hands. the position he had you in hurt so good. "fuck i'm going to cum." he groans. "m-me too." you moan out. he spreads your legs and places his thumb on your clit as he started to rub in circles. you were a moaning mess as you gripped onto the edge of the desk.

Matt then releases in you after one last hard thrust. you both cum at the same time. he thrusts out his high as he pulls out of you slowly, watching his cum drip out of you. he grins feeling accomplished. you sat up on the desk as you caught up with your breathing. Matt pulls up his boxers and pants, buttoning it back up. he grabs his back pack and puts it on. he looks at you still on the desk as he smiles, "i'll keep this a secret." he says before walking out.

a/n: turned myself on 💀 LIKES, COMMENTS, REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

[notapradagurl7]

Frosted Whispers.

Black Fem! Reader x Terry RichmondBillonaire! & Kelvin Harrison Jr.Billonaire!

Word Count: 3544k 😭

Warnings: +18, dirty talk, mention of burnout, praise, mention of favoritism, profanity, mention of wealth and power, fluff, soft Kelvin, soft Terry, voyeurism, toxic smut, confession, fingering, oral(male & female receiving) slight degradation, dominant duo, teasing, PWP, consensual for all parties, Kelvin and Terry are bosses but spoil the reader, unprotected sex.(wear protection)

Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @life-in-the-slut-house @liatreads @sweettea-and-honeybutter @ovohanna24 @henneseyhoe @euphorichappiness10 @mightbeher @miguelspvssy @simplyzeeka @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @uzumaki-rebellion @planetblaque @blackmoonchilee @slutsareteacherstoo @writingsbytee @nayaesworld @mymindisneverhere @sageispunk @slippinninque @babybratzmaraj @soft-persephone @keyera-jackson @amplifiedmoan @avoidthings

A/N: Happy holidays! I've been seeing these two on my timeline so much that I decided to write about these two cuties, here is a cozy, nasty Christmas gift from me to you! Enjoy! 🎄🤶 Don't forget to leave a like, comment & reblog to support, feel free to ask for a request! ❤️

Summary: You were sent to a cozy cabin Christmas retreat in the secluded Rocky Mountains picked by two of your wealthy bosses Terry and Kelvin, for a much-needed break from the hustle and bustle of your corporate lives.

————

Ding. The notification you've been waiting for since September, you grabbed your phone from the dresser and your eyes scanned the text message from Mr. Richmond or Terry as you would call him outside of the workplace.

Terry.

We are on our way to pick you up, don't forget to wear a coat since it's gonna be snowing out there.

Your phone buzzed again, you giggled at Kelvin text in the group chat called “It's Work, right?”

Kelvin.🤣💞

Don't forget to be out of that house by the time we pull up🙄

You.

You ain't my daddy Kelvin,🙄🤣

Terry.😌💞

Kel, you play too damn much.

You grinned like a Cheshire cat from Alice In Wonderland, laughing at the messages, unlocking your phone and quickly sending a text back to the attractive man who was also your boss.

You.

Okay, can't wait to see both of you! I'll be waiting impatiently 🤣

Dressed in a warm toffee-colored turtleneck sweater and black pants, matching boots, and socks adorned your feet. Your brown box braids hung to your elbows, a beanie atop your pretty head.

Full of zeal you were for a much-needed break from work, luckily you chose to work from home. It was a private cozy cabin in the Rocky Mountains with your bosses Terry and Kelvin.

You worked diligently and consistently in a successful corporate business which was an LLC, owned by Terry’s father and Kelvin’s father through inheritance, which some would call a clear, cold case of nepotism. Turns out their fathers were the best of friends.

Some would call it a white boys club at that, but it wasn't at all, it was black-owned by two black men with black business workers there. It was certified for sure.

Let’s not forget that you worked for two very handsome men, but on the outside, they were strict yet fair to their employees. Knowing when to not take shit from anyone and ready to fire the ones who were douchebags, or being inappropriate to co-workers. Prematurely erased from the planet, and unable to find another job.

The men made sure to get tested and sent you the papers to prove it that they were both clean, you did the same and let them know that you were on the pill. You were glad they did it without complaining, they wanted to be honest with you.

Other co-workers accused Terry and Kelvin of favoritism, which only involved you since you were an assistant to them both, you didn't make excuses, and you arrived at work on time, and worked nights and days.

You earned an amazing amount of pay that allowed you to get in a great house in a safe neighborhood, and books you wanted to read, places you wanted to go. It was a dream come true.

Obviously, you didn't give a damn what other people said or thought of you. You knew that you worked hard to get where you needed to be, you didn't need to prove it to anyone.

Looking in the full-length mirror, making sure you look good for you self. You sure did as always.

“Damn, I look fine as hell and I'm nervous,” you mumbled.

You caught the sound of a horn honking cutting through your thoughts, you kissed your teeth and grabbed your pink duffle bag.

Hurried your way out of your house, turned on your alarm and locked the front door with quickness.

Kelvin leaned against the luxurious black truck with a sinful grin on his face, while Terry sat behind the wheel. Leaning in the seat as his eyes flicker toward you, chuckling at your almost lateness.

“Hurry your ass up, girl! The snow is probably melting by now!” Kelvin hollered with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes playfully at them, as your movement was fast anyway, you've never been to the Rocky Mountains before, so seen that much snow.

This was your first taste of cabin living, the crisp snow crunched underneath your shoes and greeted you with the holiday season.

Normally, bosses and their employees weren't at good terms but it was different between you, Terry, and Kelvin. When they wanted to go to dinner, you agreed.

At first, it was about the benefits that came with being friends with Terry and Kelvin, but they turned out to be such sweethearts, normally some men wouldn't understand or try to get with co-workers but this was different.

“I’m coming, damn!” You yelled back, slinging your duffle bag over your shoulder.

Kelvin held out his hand like the gentleman he was, you passed your duffle bag to him. “What a perfect gentleman, thank you,” you replied, in a royalty-like tone.

He nodded and opened the door for you, in the backseat. “You’re welcome, after you, my lady,” he replied back, his tone in royalty-like.

You chuckled lightly, “Y’all are too much,” you said, shaking your head as you slid into the backseat.

The car was warm with the heat blowing at the right temperature, a stark contrast to the brisk winter air outside. Terry glanced back at you through the rearview mirror, his playful smirk softening into something more tender.

“You’re gonna love it up there, just you wait,” Terry chimed in, his voice smooth as melted chocolate.

“I’m sure I will, as long as you two don’t start acting like children,” you teased, leaning back comfortably against the plush leather seats.

Kelvin turned slightly in his seat, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief. “Who, us? Never. We’re perfect angels,” he said, feigning innocence. But you knew better.

“Right, and I’m the Queen of England,” you retorted, crossing your arms playfully.

Terry chuckled, shaking his head. “You know you love it. Besides, you’re the one who’s been working your ass off. You deserve this break.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think it’d come with a side of y’all acting like complete goofballs,” you replied, rolling your eyes playfully.

The car came to a stop in the clear driveway, before you can reach for the door handle, Terry opened the door for and stepped out. Thanking him with a warm tone and you passed your bag to Kelvin, while you smiled at him.

The cabin was nestled at the base of a mountain, surrounded by the whispering pines dusted in white. The moment you stepped out, the air felt crisp and fresh, invigorating.

“Wow, this is beautiful,” you breathed, taking in the stunning view.

Terry stepped out beside you, his tall frame casting a long shadow. “Welcome to our little winter wonderland,” he coaxed, a proud grin spreading across his face.

Kelvin joined you, his hands thrust deep into his pockets, his playful demeanor shifting slightly, as if he was soaking in the serenity. “And we’ve got all the comforts of home. Hot cocoa, a fireplace, and—” he paused dramatically, “—a fully stocked kitchen.”

“Don’t tempt me,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “I might just make you both work.”

“Now, that’s the spirit!” Kelvin laughed, nudging you playfully. “But only if you promise not to burn anything.”

“Ha! Very funny,” you shot back. “I’m not that bad.”

Terry leaned closer, lowering his voice. “We’ll see about that. Just remember, if you burn something, you’re on dish duty.”

You laughed, the sound echoing through the quiet woods. As the three of you made your way to the cabin, a sense of warmth and comfort enveloped you. Kelvin unlocked the door and nudged it, You walked in first while Kelvin and Terry followed behind you.

Inside, the cabin was just as cozy as you imagined, the fireplace crackling and casting flickering shadows on the walls. It was breathtaking, biting down on your lip.

“Let me show you to your room,” Kelvin chimed in, his tone shifting to something softer, more sincere. “We want you to feel at home here.”

You followed him down a short hallway, feeling your pulse quicken slightly as he opened the door to a beautifully decorated room.

“Wow, this is amazing,” you exclaimed, stepping inside. The space was adorned with plush blankets and twinkling fairy lights, presents on the bed with your name on them.

“All for you,” Kelvin exclaimed, leaning against the doorframe, his gaze steady. “We wanted you to feel special.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, warmth flooding your cheeks. “You guys really didn’t have to do all this,” you said, turning to him.

“Of course we did,” Terry chimed in from behind you. “You work harder than anyone I know. You deserve it.”

You felt like a queen in a storybook, soon to be courted by two kings who wanted to give you the world that was created by only them.

You turned to him, finding his gaze sincere and deep, something settling in your chest. “Thank you. Really. This means a lot.”

“Good, now go get settled. We’ll be right out here,” Kelvin added, his voice dipped low, almost intimate.

As you closed the door, you took a deep breath, feeling the excitement and tension swirl in the air. You felt like you were on the edge of something new, something thrilling. You took off your coat and beanie, throw it in the dresser, take off your shoes and slide on some slippers.

After unpacking, you joined them in the living room, where they were both lounging on the couch watching a movie from the 2000s, a bottle of wine and glasses waiting on the coffee table.

“Join us?” Terry asked, his dark eyes inviting.

“Absolutely,” you smiled, taking a seat between them, feeling the warmth radiate from their bodies. Grabbing a champagne glass from Terry.

“You know, we’ve been talking,” Kelvin began, his voice a low rumble.

You raised an eyebrow, curious. “Oh really? What’s this about?”

Terry leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You’ve been burning the candle at both ends. It’s about time we show you how much we value you.”

“Let me guess, it's time for me to unwrap my gifts in my room.” you teased, giggling a bit.

Terry darkly chuckled with a smirk, watching you sip from your glass. You sat in between them on the couch. Patiently waiting for what they had to say to you. “You can say that,”

“We have mustered up the courage to tell you that we both have feelings for you, if you don't feel the same way then we completely understand,” Kelvin confessed with gentleness in his time.

Obviously you liked both of them, could you be with them both without a scandal? You would have to quit your job or would they fire you? They wouldn't, A throuple would be the appropriate label.

You shook your head trying to brush off those thoughts away and enjoy this moment with them.

“I don't want to choose, I rather have both of you, Terry and Kelvin, you've been on my mind for quite some time now, but I want to keep it on the low at work, I need my job,” you confessed.

Terry and Aaron exchanged looks before nodding, “Understandable but if this ever goes out then we will protect you,” he said in a reassuring tone.

“Have you been naughty or nice this year beautiful?” Terry chimed in, his eyes roaming your body.

A smile etched on your face, placing your hand on the nape of his neck, “I think I have been good this year,”

“Can I get a kiss from my girl?”

“Your girl? You mean our girl right?”

After that, Terry kissed your lips deeply, while Kelvin slid off your sweater, he began to take off his tee shirt. Unhooking your bra and throw it across the room, your breasts poked out swiftly, he kissed your cheek as you broke the kiss with Terry, causing the male’s face to twist up.

A sinful smirk etched on Kelvin’s face, “What? You could get all the damn attention from our girl?”

“Is that a challenge I hear?” Terry asked him.

Terry slides off his sweater, unbuckling his belt and freed his dick with your hand grabbed it gently eliciting a grunt from him.

“Would you like a taste?” Terry coaxed darkly.

“Can I eat you out while you're sucking him off?” Kelvin asked, kissing your neck and sucking your skin to leave a hickey.

“Yes, please,” You replied with a seductive tone, kissing his lips twice.

You took him eagerly in your mouth, using your hand to stroke him from what you couldn't fit in your mouth, sucking him off and Kelvin took off his clothes. Rubbing your breast and pinching your nipple, “Kel…mhm..” you moaned again.

With your consent, Kelvin gently slid your purple panties from your ankles, grabbing underneath your knees and resting them on his shoulders. His lips kissing your clit sweetly eliciting muffled moans from you. You sent vibrations on Terry’s thick length, bopping your head while Kelvin’s fingers slid between your wet folds. “So fucking wet, this shit is turning you on?” he asked.

“Suck that shit baby, you're doing so well for me,” Terry groaned, pushing his hips into the warmth of your mouth. Closing his eyes to relish in every moment.

That only made Kelvin work harder with his mouth, his tongue tracing shapes on your throbbing clit and thrusting his fingers in and out of you skillfully, your essence spurting out on his wrist and moaning onto Terry’s dick. “You taste so fucking good,” Kelvin moaned onto your pussy.

On the verge of a climax, you and Terry felt the knot untighten, his warm jets of cum poured onto your tounge causing you to swallow every bit of him, pulling his dick out. “You did an amazing job,” Terry praised, You moaned loudly at Kelvin still eating you out.

Your hips rolled against his mouth, your head fell back onto the armrest. Your essence poured onto Kelvin’s mouth, swallowing every drop of you. Hand resting on the nape of his neck, “Just like that, you're both are so good to me,” you babbled softly, hearing a slurping noise from him.

Kelvin moved his head away and looked up at you with a smirk, “You deserve the better, my love,” he cooed, cupped your face and kissed you passionately yet deeply, your tongue slipped in with his. Pulling away with a soft smack.

“My turn,” Kelvin playful sang before kissing your lips sweetly.

Kelvin lifted you effortlessly and sat comfortably on the couch, your hand resting on his shoulders with his hands gripping your hips. Sliding you onto his dick gradually and filling you completely. “Damn, I'm buying an engagement ring next time,”

Your mouth parted wide, pulling him close in a tight bear hug, you kissed him sloppily, “Strange way to propose..yess,” you cried out, his hips moved yours, creating a slapping sound similar to a gunshot.

“Oh fuckkk! Kelvin!” You cried out, eyes rolling back. Hips rolling against him as your body shook with pleasure. Kelvin watched your essence pooled around his dick, he groaned out your name like a seductive song, watching you fall apart after every stroke.

He laid you down on your back and you grabbed the couch armrest for dear life, fucking you like he had something to prove, he rutted into you and Terry watched with a smirk, your reactions to Kelvin’s thrusts turned him on. “Oh yes! Shit!” you cried again, nails scratched his back eliciting a hiss from him.

Terry’s lush lips took your nipple in his mouth with genuine care, your hand rested on the nape of his neck. Your hips rolled against Kelvin’s thick dick, screaming out their names to the mountains.“T-Terry…Kelvin..baby, you make me feel so gooddddd,” you babbled, tears falling down your cheeks.

Terry’s finger rubbed your clit in circles, and you whimpered his name again. “Damn, you’re so perfect,” Kelvin groaned, his grip tightening on your hips as he thrust into you deeper, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

Such possessive men they were, your attention and your love were their oxygen. Couldn't live without it.

Terry looked up from your breast, his dark eyes glinting with pride. “You’re taking him so well, baby. You’re such a good girl,” he praised, his voice low and sultry, sending shivers down your spine.

“Y-yes, I’m trying baby,” you stuttered out, trying to keep your composure as both men lavished you with attention.

Kelvin leaned down, his forehead resting against yours, his breath hot against your skin. “You feel so damn good wrapped around me. I could stay here forever,” he whispered, his voice thick with lust.

“Me too,” you breathed, losing yourself in the moment as you rocked your hips against his, feeling his length hit the perfect spot inside you. “Please don’t stop.”

“Never,” he replied, picking up the pace, his thrusts becoming more frantic. You could feel the tension building within you, the knot tightening in your belly as he drove you closer and closer to the edge.

Terry’s mouth moved from your nipple to your ear and cupped your breast, his hot breath sending another wave of arousal through you. “Let go for us, baby. We’re right here,” he murmured, his fingers still working expertly on your clit, teasing and coaxing you towards your release.

With a few more thrusts and Terry’s skilled fingers, you felt the world around you blur. You cried out as the pleasure peaked, your body trembling as you came undone. “I’m cumming!” you screamed, your nails digging into Kelvin’s shoulders as the waves of ecstasy washed over you.

“That’s it, baby girl. Let it all out,” Kelvin urged, his own release following closely as he buried himself deep inside you, filling you with his cum completely.

Terry’s fingers continued to work on your clit, coaxing out every last bit of pleasure until you were panting, your body still quivering from the intensity of your orgasm. “Terry…please, Kelvin!” you cried out.

As Kelvin collapsed beside you, still catching his breath, Terry leaned over to kiss you softly, his lips brushing against yours tenderly. “You did so amazing, sweetheart,” he whispered, his eyes sparkling with affection.

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words. “I couldn’t have done it without both of you,” you replied, a smile spreading across your face as you glanced between the two of them.

Kelvin chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “We make a pretty good team, don’t we?”

“Absolutely,” you nodded, feeling a sense of belonging and happiness you hadn’t experienced before.

“Next time, we should try the hot tub outside,” Kelvin suggested, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Only if you promise to keep the hot cocoa flowing,” you teased back, feeling the playful banter return.

“Deal,” Terry chimed in, his arm tightening around you, making you feel safe and cherished.

“A hot bath for our favorite girl?” Kelvin asked with a grin, picking up you in his arms, and carrying you to the bathroom. You nodded weakly.

“Make sure it's on the right temperature, nigga.” Terry shouted out, rolling his eyes. They pulled up their pants and followed behind Kelvin. Cleaning up the place immediately.

The white marble curved bath tub was filled with heat and soapy foam, you sighed in bliss. Terry passed your favorite book with a bookmark in between and kissed your forehead, “Enjoy, Empress,” he said before closing the door.

You freshened up, dried off, and applied lotion. You wore a loose t-shirt and leggings. you sauntered back into the clean living area, feeling refreshed and rejuvenated.

As you entered, you found Terry and Kelvin lounging comfortably on the couch, both looking up at you with amused expressions.

"Look who decided to grace us with her presence," Terry teased, a playful smirk on his face.

"Had to make sure I was all clean and cute for my two favorite bosses," you replied, winking at them as you sank onto the couch beside Kelvin.

"Cute is an understatement," Kelvin remarked, his gaze lingering on you with a hint of desire. "You look absolutely stunning."

"Thanks, I appreciate it,” You smiled, sitting in between them.

For the rest of the night, you cuddled close to them with warm blankets and classic Christmas movies, and hot cocoa. Treated like the queen that are you.

[fr3sh-tragedies]

Struggle

[Arcane] Jinx x Female Reader

Summary: "You're like my rock, and I want to be that for you, too, even if I don't exactly know how to do it."

Word Count: 3.05k

Content + Warnings: Modern Jinx (Jinx and Reader are in their mid-to-late 20s), insecurities, crying, language (?)

- - - - [Masterlist] - - - -

[A/N]: This is my 100th post on here, and considering my very first story on here (over two years ago) was Jinx, I figured I could sort of celebrate the post count by writing for her again. I'll be posting for all of my current requests after this until they've all been completed, but I just wanted to say thank you all for the support over the past two years. I'm glad you all enjoy my work, especially to the point where you send in requests, and I hope you'll all like the stories I have planned for the future. :)

Enjoy!

Softly, in the corner of the room, a small record player echoed out peaceful melodies, filling the room and replacing the already comfortable silence. You sat in bed, eyes scanning over the pages of a random book you found a few days prior that you were almost finished reading. Wanting Jinx to be relaxed as well, you kept your legs propped up for her to lean against, resting between your feet and resting herself against your legs, letting her head lie snugly on your knees. She kept her arms wrapped around your thighs to ensure you stayed close to her and didn’t disturb the peace.

Her eyes had been closed for a while. Anyone would assume she was asleep. You, however, knew better. It was easy to hear her soft, quick breaths, a total opposite to the deep, even breathing you could often hear from her when she was genuinely resting. Alongside what you could hear, you were able to feel her fingers occasionally tracing random patterns against your skin. It was clear she was trying to be subtle so she wouldn’t ruin your focus on your newfound book, although it wasn’t working.

There wasn’t a disturbance either way since you were already used to her using the tips of her nails to sketch shapes and words on you, though it was still endearing to know she was always actively trying to avoid inconveniencing you. Often, you had to remind her that you didn’t mind how chatty and peppy she could be, and lately you had been encouraging her to just be herself regardless of what was going on. It was a breath of fresh air to have someone so full of life after constantly being surrounded by constant negativity when you had to go to work.

Plus, you knew she was an incredibly kind person at heart. Even when things didn’t go her way, you knew she almost always had good intentions – specifically when it revolves around you. She wasn’t necessarily the best at comforting others, considering she never truly received support herself for so long, but she tried, and that was really all you could ask for.

The very few nights where you’d fall vulnerable to the cruel tricks your mind played on you, she was always there. Always ready to lend an ear, shoulder, words of advice, whatever you needed. During those times, she knew it wasn’t okay to try to crack a joke or make light of the situation until you were calm and stable again, which was something that you couldn’t appreciate more.

Now, while bundled up in bed with Jinx as you read your book, you couldn’t help the smile that brought the corners of your lips up with ease. Your eyes remained on the sepia-toned pages that rested in your hands, though your attention was quickly pulled away when you felt eyes on you. Meeting Jinx’s gaze, her warm smile widened and she lifted her head a bit to look at you properly. “Why’re you staring at me?” You asked, chuckling and tilting your head.

“‘Cause I like looking at you. You’re pretty.”

Nervously, you laughed again, shaking your head and looking back down. “I’m not, but thanks,” you muttered back, fighting back a wince when you felt her shift her body to fully face you. “What? Of course you’re pretty.” She leaned forward, her chest now resting on top of your knees as she slipped her hands upward to cup your face between them. “Did someone tell you you’re not? ‘Cause I’ll kick their ass if they did. Who was it?” A small shake of your head had her increasingly rapid rambling settle down, allowing you to properly respond. “No one told me that, Jinx, you don’t need to kick anyone’s ass,” you replied with another laugh, hoping to ease the growing tension.

“Then… Why'd you say you’re not pretty? Is it because you don’t have makeup on or something? Because you’re beautiful without makeup anyway, so it’s not like you need it or anything. ‘Course, there’s nothing wrong with wearing it, but I’m just saying you don’t need to wear it to look good, y’know?” Before she could start back up on her scattered speech, you leaned to the side and set the book gently down on the nightstand, then lifted your hands and shook them dismissively.

“Jinx, please. It’s so sweet that you think that, really, it is, but I just don’t feel the same way. I never have, if I’m being honest, but I’ve learned to live with it.” Internally, you could already feel the tears beginning to form behind your eyes, prompting you to curse silently to yourself. Why were these types of conversations always so difficult? You’d never been able to accept or believe the compliments people would give you, so why did they keep coming your way? You weren’t entirely sure why you couldn't accept them, though you didn’t want to try to think back on things to find out. Memories were painful, so you tried to avoid them as much as you could.

She seemed entirely baffled at your words, disbelief contorting her features as she let her hands fall to take hold of your own. “C’mon, toots, I’m supposed to be the crazy one, not you.” You raised a brow. “What exactly is making me crazy here?” “Thinking that you’re not good looking. That’s insane to me! You’re one of the best-looking people I’ve ever met.” Again, you shook your head, your smile now feigned as you fought back tears. “You don’t have to lie to me, I’m fine. Like I said, I’ve already gotten used to how I look. I know I don’t look good.”

“Trinket, you know I don’t have the capacity to lie to you. Even if it were life or death, I wouldn’t be able to lie about how incredible you are. You’re pretty, even if you don’t believe it, and even though you might not think I’m telling the truth, I know for a fact that you’re beautiful to me. Inside and out.” Now entirely dismissive, you shook your head again and hugged your arms tightly. “No, I’m not. You can say all you want – tell me everything you supposedly love about me – but I’m not going to believe it. It’s nothing against you, I just know that people aren’t being genuine when they compliment me.”

Without hesitation, Jinx pushed your legs apart and let herself fall down on top of you, her arms snaking their way underneath you and pulling you closer to her. “Well, then I’m just going to have to keep telling you how amazing you are until it gets through that pretty little head of yours,” she murmured, lips pressing themselves quickly against your cheek before her head fell to rest on your shoulder.

“Please don’t do that. It’s only going to make me feel worse,” you replied, and instantly her head shot up to look at you as if you were crazy again. “Worse?” You nodded. “It would just feel like you’re constantly lying to me. I’d only feel more and more guilty every time you said something to compliment me.” Sighing, Jinx shuffled around a bit until she was able to lie beside you and pull you into her chest. “You wouldn’t have any reason to feel guilty for that, though. I’d be saying it myself. It’s not like you’d be forcing me to say stuff like that – I’d be saying it because it’s true.”

Grunting in the process of wriggling your way out of her grasp, you shuffled away from her and crossed your arms over your chest, head drooping and turning away to avoid seeing how hurt she was by your reluctance. “It’s not true, though,” you muttered under your breath. Following your example, Jinx slid her way over to sit beside you again, her hand coming up and gently cradling the side of your face as she turned your head to look at her again. “But it is.”

Already you were growing irritated with the argument – the same one you’ve had with so many people over the past several years. You knew she wasn’t going to give in, even if you managed to give a solid argument, but you also didn’t want her to start causing grief unintentionally, even if she meant well by it. You had never thought you were pretty, or beautiful, or even just slightly good-looking. You’d convinced yourself over the years that you were average at best, and that was just on a good day where your mind wasn’t being cruel to you.

Seeing her gaze at you so lovingly and earnestly, however, was allowing you to bite your tongue and stop yourself from growing overly defensive like you always did about the subject. You didn’t want to upset her. You knew, just like always, that she had good intentions at heart with what she was saying. You weren’t open about this often, so it wasn’t as if she had much to go off of in terms of how you’d react to her trying to comfort you and change your mind about how you saw yourself.

Huffing out a small sigh, you pulled your head away from her hand, letting your focus fall back to the ground. “Look, I know you’re probably being honest about what you’re saying, but-” “No, I’m not “probably” being honest, I am being honest.”

Again, you let a sigh slip past your lips and your shoulder drooped down in defeat. You weren’t going to win against her, though you didn’t want to admit to what you believed was a lie. “Well, either way, my mind isn’t going to change regardless. You could tell me everything you love about me a thousand times a day, and I still wouldn’t believe you.”

“But I don’t understand why you can’t just trust that I know what I’m talking about here.”

“I don’t know either, okay? People tell me randomly that I look good, or that I’m pretty or whatever, but it just never feels true. It feels like they’re lying straight to my face, and I can never believe them, even for a second. I don’t even know why I can't just believe them, but I can’t. I’ve never been able to.”

At first, you hadn’t even realized you had started crying. Not until you felt something dripping against your arms. Looking down, you finally took notice of your blurred vision, as well as the salty drops that trailed down your skin until they dripped and fell to the mattress beneath you. “Oh, trinket,” Jinx started softly from beside you, hand taking yours.

“Please don’t cry. It’s okay. I didn’t mean to upset you, I just want to make sure you know what I think about you. I’m sorry.” As she spoke, she carefully pulled you back into her arms, wanting to make sure she wasn’t making things worse by tugging you against her again. Once you were securely settled leaning on her chest, her free hand made its way up to the back of your head, tilting it down to allow her to comfortably press a small kiss to the top of it. “Please don’t cry,” she repeated just as quietly as before.

It felt like your heart was beginning to break at the sound of her voice shaking and the feeling of her hands trembling against you. She was trying to comfort you, yet you were still somehow upsetting her instead. A sob wracked through your body, and you didn’t have to think twice before you buried your face into her shoulder, partially trying to hide your face as you began to weep in her arms.

No matter how hard you tried, you never seemed to understand her. She was always mentioning how bad she is at comforting, yet you always immediately found yourself wandering to her whenever you were seeking said comfort. Being in her arms alone made you feel incredibly safe, and it was never hard to let the tears flow until you felt better.

Even if your tears stained one of her favorite shirts, she would never get angry. Wouldn’t even get annoyed. She’d simply make a joke about it to let you know she didn’t care, reminding you that she could always change into another shirt. She just wanted you to feel safe and comfortable with her. She wanted you to trust her.

And honestly, with how kindly she always treated you, even when you didn’t deserve it, it wasn’t hard to feel protected and seen when you were with her. You wondered often if you brought her the same kind of unconditional love and trust. Why did she love you so much? She gave and gave constantly, and it seemed like you only ever wanted to take more. How could she not despise you for needing her so badly for the simplest of things?

You shuddered, hiccuping between sobs and trying desperately to pull her as close to you as humanly possible.

“I don’t understand,” you choked out, gaining her attention again and prompting her to lean back far enough to look you in the eye. “Why are you always so kind and patient with me? All I do is upset you and bring everything down, even when you’re trying to help me.”

Upon seeing her bottom lip tremble, brows furrow, and tears grow glossy at your words, your stomach twisted with guilt, already regretting your tone. “Are you kidding me?” She asked with a broken laugh. “You’ve done nothing but bring me joy and laughter since I met you. Sure, there are moments like these where everything’s sort of… glum, I guess, but that’s just a part of life. Before I met you, I felt like it didn’t matter what I did with my life because I didn’t have anyone to share my future with.

“And then I met you, and everything felt so important all of a sudden. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have gone to college or gotten a decent job. I probably wouldn’t have even finished high school, honestly, but I did because of you. You’re everything to me, trinket. You make me want to be a better person, even if I’m not the greatest at doing that.

“Besides, you’re always there for me when I need it, especially when I’m feeling down and need someone to lean on. You’re like my rock, and I want to be that for you, too, even if I don’t exactly know how to do it. I know I might not always know what to say, and sometimes I end up making things worse than they already are, but you’ve never once hated me for that. Even when I fuck things up, you’re still here, telling me how much you love me and how you still want a future with me, and I can never tell you how incredible of a feeling that leaves me with.

That’s why I find you so beautiful. And I know you don’t want to hear that, but it’s the truth. Whether we’re talking about inside or out, you’re beautiful, and I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you in my life. I love every single part of you.”

For a long moment, you were only able to stare up at her, tears flowing freely down your face as you slowly soaked in her words. “You do?” She smiled, nodding. “Of course I do. I could never love anyone the way I love you.”

Wordlessly, your head landed back against her shoulder. You felt your eyes shut as exhaustion began to take over from the crying. Combined with the growing fatigue, the feeling of Jinx’s nails returning to scratch soothingly at the nape of your neck brought a sense of solace that only she could ever bring. It was one of her ways of telling you she was there without having to say anything out loud. “I love you, too,” you finally whispered, sniffling and quickly wiping away your tears before they could continue their journey down Jinx’s back.

If she truly meant everything she had said, then you were doing well to provide her with the same amount of consolation she gave you endlessly. She had done everything for you that she claimed you did for her:

Until you met her, it felt like your life had no real purpose. Meeting her and growing close to her helped you find something to look forward to every single day, even if it was something as simple as waking up to see her asleep beside you. Because of her, you had the courage to finish college and chase after your dream job, all with her nonstop support. You could still remember the way she screamed and cheered for you during your high school and college graduations.

You constantly wanted to be a better person for her and ultimately for yourself, meaning you were always finding new ways to improve how you treated yourself and others, especially her. No matter what mistake you ended up making, she was always there with open arms, welcoming you into her embrace and whispering sweet nothings into your ear as she helped you figure things out.

God, you loved her so much.

You wanted to spend the rest of your life with her.

There wasn’t a single future you could see for yourself where she wasn’t in it, and that couldn’t make you happier.

A yawn slipped past your lips, followed by another sigh as your body finally relaxed into hers. “Y’know, I don’t believe it when people say I’m beautiful. I haven’t for a really long time, but somehow you make me want to believe it.”

She leaned back again, gently cupping your face in her hand. “Well, you should believe it because, like I said, it’s true.”

Humming, you offered her a tired smile before leaning forward and pressing a gentle, chaste kiss to her lips. You could feel her smile against your own before you pulled away, briefly looking her in the eye again before returning your head to its original spot on her shoulder.

“Well, I don’t believe it right now, but knowing you, I’m sure that someday I will.”

Thanks for the support by the way! One follower for every day of the year, friends. :)

Started on: October 30th, 2024 Finished on: October 31st, 2024

[creedslove]

Omg bestie imagine calling older hubby Joel to pick you up from the club because you’re too drunk to drive home yourself.

No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

A/N: I love this idea, I just changed it slightly because I thought it would be better, honey ❤️

• you and Joel had broken up in the beginning of the year; you didn't see it coming, you were so happy with your man and you'd assumed he was happy with you too

• in fact, he was happy with you, he loved you dearly, but in his mind, he assumed it wasn't enough to continue the relationship, not when he worked impossible hours, was barely home to you, always too tired and with no energy, not to mention the age gap: Joel loved you, but deep down he knew you could do so much better

• he was convinced you deserved a man your age, someone who was fitter, who could spend time with you and build a life together, after all, Joel Miller had been through all of it and he just wanted to spend time relaxing and making ends meet, in order to have a comfortable life

• so he thought it was best for the two of you part ways, which you didn't take very well, in fact, it was so heartbreaking you ended up screaming at the top of your lungs how much you hated him in his front yard

• and once you calmed yourself down, you were mortified at what you'd done, as you felt so embarrassed and ashamed and you apologized to him hundreds of times and he just told you it was fine

• eventually you had broken up on some sort of good terms, he had told you you could always reach out to him whenever you needed to, but after that, you both had minded your own business

• until the night you went out with your friends and got hammered with drinks

• you didn't know exactly how, you just ordered one drink after the other and when you least expected, you were drunk

• and when you saw your friends, they were as drunk as you were and worse: insisting on driving, and since you refused to get a ride from them, and they refused to get a cab or whatever, they drove off completely wasted and you stayed behind

• but being that drunk at that hour of the night and alone, you didn't trust getting into anyone's car

• anyone except one person... Joel Miller

• so you called your ex-boyfriend and giggled when you heard his voice on the phone, it was clear he'd been either sleeping or he was about to, but the moment he caught you on the other side of the phone, he widened his eyes, worried something had happened

• but when you blabbered about how drunk you were and a little scared of getting home with someone else, Joel had already dressed up again and got his truck keys, asking for your location and trying to find you

• he would never let anything happen to you, at all

• so when you saw him parking, you walked to his truck, hopping inside and giggling, feeling happy to see him there, although the drunken buzz inside of you was constant

"you okay?"

"yeah"

"I'm glad you called, didn't want you risking yourself around with anyone, darlin'"

• his voice was soft and he placed his hand on your knee briefly, caressing it gently before turning his attention back on the road

• Joel didn't like the idea of leaving you alone at home, not with how drunk you were, he just had a gut feeling it would be better if he drove you to his own home, after all, you'd spent so many nights next to him, just another one should be fine

• you looked at him puzzled when you noticed he'd taken you to his house but he smiled comforting at you

"you'll spend the night, you take my bed and I'll sleep on the couch"

• he explained and you nodded, even if you didn't need explanations, you trusted Joel with your life

• once inside, he took you to the bathroom, handing you one of his shirts so you could shower and change into it

• he'd also made his bed so you could sleep on it, which you did for only a few minutes, being unable to rest away from Joel; you missed him, he was still so nice and sweet to you even if you weren't together anymore

• so you got off bed and walked downstairs, finding him asleep on his couch; you grinned at the view and decided to lie right next to him, snuggling him in the process and finally falling into a deep sleep

• Joel buried his nose into your hair and took a deep breath, even if it was unconscious, it was how much he'd missed it, and he also dreamed of you that night, having you both in his mind and safely tucked into his arms

____

[darylbae]

Always read your fics and enjoyed them from afar , , why not send a request ! ^^ Don't feel pressured to write this too this is a little weird now that I read it over and sorry for the long req ! ! >< Could you write some an angsty or fluffy oneshot of a reader infected with the deadly flu during (i think) early season 4 and Daryl determined to cure her of the sickness. Them both having conversations between the glass of the prison where the reader is just at the point of giving up and accepting they'll die by this flu and Daryl is trying to give them hope. There's the scene with the group who went to the veterinary (..?) college/university to grab medicine for Hershel to use where they find out Bob didn't grab shit and Daryl just goes off at him because the reader was so kind and generous to him wdym you only grabbed BOOZE?? And then it ends with the reader who's cured of the flu, running into Daryl's arms both relieved and happy that they can finally hold each other again. Which ends in Daryl showering them in kisses because yay they're cured ! The idea just came to me while I was laying at the beach, "If the reader, his lover, was infected by the flu how much more angry would Daryl be with Bob when he only grabs alcohol?"

quarantine — daryl dixon

in which the flu catches up to you, and daryl is stressed about losing you

note: my requests are still open!! i have a few to write but im still happy to accept them! <3

Your job prior to the apocalypse was a caregiver to the elderly, so you had experience with a lot of medication and general practice of caring for someone. It's why Daryl had become so drawn to you, seeing you care for your people, or even people from Woodbury that had just been taken in, you gave everyone the same love and attention regardless of time spent with them. Daryl hadn't realised his longstanding affection for you until this flu outbreak within your prison community. You'd volunteered to help everyone alongside Herschel, caring more about the well-being of others more than your own. Until you'd gotten sick. "It was inevitable, honey," you spoke, not having the energy to even raise your voice above a whisper, "I'm glad I kept everyone in here hydrated, fed, and stable. But we're not seeing any progress." Daryl was on the other end of the window, eyes staring intensely into yours, wishing he could touch you, wishing he could hear your voice clear as day and not muffled due to being separated. Daryl sighed in defeat. "You don't deserve this." "Nobody does, but we need medication, Dar." You admitted. "It's the only way for people to get better, otherwise, we'll die in here." The thought of losing anyone else was enough of a push to find some medication, but the thought of losing you was enough to get him anywhere. He'd ride for days, hell, he'd walk for days if it meant you could get better. "I'm taking a group out, I'll get ya the meds. Just rest f'me, okay sweetheart?" Daryl was pleading now, you could hear the whine in his voice. You nodded, coughing into your hands as you hobbled away.

Days had passed. You couldn't get out of bed most mornings, even as Herschel did his rounds. Usually you'd join him, making sure everyone had water and food. But your bones ached, your head was pounding, you were sweating through your clothes. "Why don't the caregivers care for themselves, hm?" Herschel asked, entering your cell with a pitcher of water. You smiled painfully, reaching for your cup and holding it up for him. "Not used to it, I guess.." You wheezed, stabling yourself before another coughing fit. "How is everyone?" "Good as they can be, I guess." "Any word on the meds?" You asked, wanting to take the moment off yourself and onto a cure. Herschel shook his head. "Daryl keeps asking about you, though. It's rather sweet, really." "He is. Contrary to how he acts." You smiled, the thought of how he only acted around you. You'd caught him smiling a few times, even laughing at your terrible jokes. "I know a man in love when I see one."

Herschel had alerted you that Daryl was by the window again, asking for you. So you'd made the effort to hobble out of your cell and over to the window. And Daryl almost collapsed at the sight of you. Pale, hunched over in pain, sweat dripping from your skin. Your once glowing skin replaced with dullness, dark circles under your eyes. "Hey," you whispered, your hand on the glass, "how are you?" "How are you?" He asked, matching your hand with his and the both of you craved the feeling of the other's skin on yours. This was pure torture. "I can't do this anymore, Dar." You tried to take in a deep breathe, but you would wheeze as you did so. "It's getting harder. To talk, to walk, to move at all." Daryl's brows furrowed, trying to hold in every ounce of emotion threatening to spill out of him. "I know, sweetheart, I know." "They really need those meds in here, they're not getting any better." You confessed, there was no point trying to hide it now, you'd be walkers in a matter of days. "I'm gettin' em, I promise. Jus' been findin' fuel and supplies for our trip, we're leavin' today." Daryl mumbled, doubts and fears running rampant in his head. "Jus' came to say goodbye and I'll be back for ya." "I know you will, when I'm better I want a nice hug from you. It's the least bit of affection I deserve." You smiled, matching his as he shoved his middle finger up at you. But you knew what he meant. You could wait to tell him you loved him too.

Daryl had gone with Michonne, Bob, and Tyreece to a veterinary college for the medication, but Daryl couldn't think straight. He hadn't realised just how much you meant to him until you were isolated away from him. And he wasn't going to keep it to himself anymore. "We're in and we're out." Daryl instructed the team, leading them into the building. "Grab everything you can." He was so focused on finding the names of everything he needed, shoving it into his bag, he had his sights set on his objective and nobody else. Walkers had become the least of his worries. Even when the escapes had been overrun with walkers, he'd found a window which took them out to a roof. "We can walk over this roof, get us away from 'em." Daryl suggested, helping Michonne through the roof and carefully out of the building. The four steadily climbed out, aiming to walk along and find a quiet place to drop down, but Bob had lost balance and almost let go of his bag. Daryl turned, seeing the commotion and seeing Bob so desperately clinging to the back, completely ignoring any sense of fear from the walkers. "Just let it go!" Tyreece called out, but Bob was adamant on pulling the bag up. And Daryl had leaned forward to retrieve the bag from him. "What's so damn important in here, huh?" Daryl mumbled to himself, unzipping the backpack and pulling out a bottle. A bottle of what looked like whiskey. "All that for a drink?" Daryl reached his arm up to lunge it away, but Bob let out a yelp. "Please," he pleaded, "don't. It's just for when it get's quiet." Daryl was seething, why should he listen to his cries? He was on a selfish solo-mission. "Just give it to him." Michonne sighed, still wary of her footing as the walkers were clambering for their feet. "I can't believe this shit!" Daryl exclaimed, Bob's eyes fixed onto the alcohol sloshing around in Daryl's hands. "Should've left ya to die out there, we been so nice to ya. Y/N's been so nice to ya, and ya don't care one bit." "You take a sip of this before these meds get in our people," Daryl stepped to Bob, a menacing expression on his face as he shoved the bottle into his chest, "I will beat your ass into the ground."

It was a silent trip home, Daryl in the front seat with his head on the window. He couldn't stop thinking about you, about whether you were dead or alive. He was praying for the latter, and Daryl never prayed. In his life, he was so anti-God but when it came to you, he'd try anything. So seeing the familiar prison gates, Daryl almost leapt out the car whilst it was still rolling. He'd taken the bags of supplies straight to the quarantine zone, throwing it over to Herschel and sitting impatiently by the window. The window you'd always talk at, pressing your hands against it together, the one he hoped wouldn't have to separate you any longer. He had nothing to do except wait. He'd anxiously play with the ends of his hair, biting on his lip whilst he waited for any signs of progression. He sat, completely alone, just waiting for you. Completely unaware of the time passing around him. It wasn't until Maggie spotted him, and approached him slowly. "Everyone's taken the meds, they just need rest." She confirmed, and his heart lifted. "She's okay, but I think you need some rest too." "Thanks." Daryl spoke softly, a small smile on his lips as Maggie had exited the quarantine zone. He'd only waited a little while longer, until admitting defeat for the night.

The next morning, Daryl was up and spent the morning outside. Fixing the fence, stabbing some walkers in the skull, the usual daily tasks for him now. He'd accepted that you'd needed your rest, at least you were alive. But the weight still sat in his chest, even knowing you were on the mend, he wanted you. He needed you. Bob's selfish actions yesterday were now but a passing thought, he was solely centered on you. So he'd eaten some food, spoken to Carol, gone about his day as he usually would. Except you were missing. It had gotten to the evening, the sun setting behind the trees and it was a sight he wished to experience with you. "Hey handsome," he heard behind him, his head snapping to the direction of your voice, seeing you stood, weakly, against a wall. "Oh my God," he tried to speak, but it came out as more of a whimper. He'd abandoned his smoke, throwing it onto the ground before wrapping you into his body. Feeling your skin on his, your voice blessing his ears, it felt too good to be true. "Dar," you croaked, "too tight." You giggled when he'd released you, brushing his hands down your back, not wanting to take his hands from you.

[backseatsoldier]

"Broken", Not Stupid - 7: A Quick Phone Call

Pairing: alpha!Simon "Ghost" Riley x unusual omega!OC (13)

CW: Omegaverse; cult-like situation; dehumanization; selling children to a cult

Author's Note: Weee~ I swear these two are just using me as a way to get this story out. I don't know what's going on lol

"Keep eating. I'm going to step outside and make a phone call," Simon points to the window next to them. "I'll be standing right there. Tap on the glass if you need anything."

13 nods and slowly places another french fry between her lips.

As soon as Simon was in the exact spot he promised, he hit the call button. It rang twice before he answers.

"Simon," John greets him in a clear voice.

Simon's not sure when his captain ever sleeps. He called John first not only was he sure he would be awake, but also because he holds the most sway out of 141. If John thinks something needs to be done, it will be done.

"Need to run something by you," he says, jumping right in. There's a shuffling of papers on John's end of the line before Simon continues. "What do you know of the organization Salvation?"

By the end of the phone call John was informed of how Simon came to even know of Salvation and be on one of their properties, what he found there, what 13 had told him so far, and all of the warning signs he'd seen so far.

"What are you asking, Lieutenant?" His voice is tense, measured; he's also controlling his anger about this.

"I'm asking what we can do about it," Simon says cooly.

"We need more. Proof, evidence," he growls the words. "And your omega, 13? You said she's American so I'll get a hold of Laswell. Let her know what's going on, your suspicions, and see what information she has so far." John pauses. "This is going to take time, Simon. I'll also ask Laswell about some kind of therapy for... 13. She really didn't give you an actual name?"

"No. She's made no mention of it. First time she's said anything about her life before Salvation was that she was 13 when her father 'sent' her to Salvation."

The pure anger in Simon's voice was obvious to John, but anyone who happened to be listening wouldn't know anything was wrong without hearing the full conversation.

Not that anyone was around. It was after midnight.

"I see. Well... I'll call Laswell now. At least get her attention about it. And Simon?"

Simon waits, listening for whatever John has to say. His voice softened a bit so curiosity picks at Simon's mind.

"I'm glad you found an omega." Then the call ends.

When Simon makes it back inside, 13 has eaten about half of the box of french fries he was picking at to feed her.

"Alright?" he asks as he lowers into his chair.

She nods and looks at the tray of food.

"I wasn't sure which 'main dish' was meant for me so I just kept eating the fries," she admits.

Wordlessly, he pushes the chicken nugget box closer to her.

"Want anything to dip them in?"

She shrugs as she opens the box.

"Ranch?"

His sudden movement to get up to go to the counter seems to startle her a bit so he slows his movements. On his way past her, he rests his hand hesitantly on her shoulder in an attempt to apologize and comfort her. She doesn't flinch away but she does go a bit stiff.

Retreiving the ranch was quick and he gently places them in front of her when he returns.

"Thank you," she whispers as she peels one open.

They eat in a silence that is both tense and comfortable all at once. As soon as the food is gone, Simon cleans up the wrapers. Then he taps the empty cup he got for her.

"Um... Coke? I can get it-"

"No. I'll get it, just stay here," he insists and plucks the large cup from the table. "Ice?"

13 shakes her head and Simon walks off to fill the cup. When he returns, the cup has a lid and straw on top of being almost over-full.

"Do you want to sit for a bit more or go?"

"Can we go? I'm... I know there's hardly any people here, but I don't know when I was last in public this long so..." she trails off and takes the cup from his hands to sip from it.

"Come on," he tugs gently on the sleeve of his shirt he'd brought for her. "Get you home."

There's a flicker of something unknown across her face when he says 'home'.

John's right, this is going to take time. And 13 needs therapy.

Masterlist | CoD Masterlist | Part One

Tag List: @lucienofthelakes @lostintransist @demothers-empty-blog @scaredyspooks @tessakate @one-really-annoying-tree-rat @nerdyphantomtheorist @gazsluckyhat

[joels-shitty-puns]

Could I make a request please?

Either a Joel or Pedro x Reader, where he is head over heels for the reader who is really bubbly and sweet and happy and a mom friend for everyone but who is oblivious to any romantic overtures whatsoever? And where Joel or Pedro catch them crying for the first time ever and they try and hide it and go back to cooking for the friend group or whatever and Joel/Pedro get the reader to open up about what made them cry and essentially it's that someone turned them down on a dating app and it's just further confirmation that the reader will never find love or actually be a mom? Plus-sized reader preferred but definitely not required? And your choice on if it's smutty or not.

I've been reading your plus sized reader x Pedro series and loving it!!! So much emotion and genuine positivity that I couldn't help but ask for more when I felt a bit down about this today.

All my best!

Dear @jenniferpendragon,

Hi!!! I've never had a request before, I didn't know what to do with myself. Thank you. And thank you so much for your kind words about my musician fic! I'm so glad people like it.

I'm sorry you were feeling down today. If by "this" you mean you experienced the dating app situation, I'm so sorry. Love is out there for you. I know how hard it is to wait, feeling like nobody wants you, but I know it'll happen. Hang in there. ❤️

I hope you like this fic! I liked your prompt and my mind ran wild. It's way longer than I thought it would be and also I'm unsure about it, but hopefully it makes you feel a little better.

___________

Cookies 'n Scream

Pairing: No-Outbreak!Joel Miller x Plus-sized!Reader

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY!! MDNI. Poor body image, fat shaming, food guilt, food mentions, unprotected P in V, oral, kissing, fingering, pregnancy mention, baby making sex (?), I think that's all of it but if I missed something let me know.

Other stuff: Reader is AFAB. In case it isn't clear, italics almost always are the reader's inner thoughts!

This is the first smut I've ever written and published, yikes. Hope it's decent.

__________

"Look what I bought today," you chimed in a sing-song voice while waving the DVD in front of Joel. 

"No way. Zombie Slayer 6?!" Joel and Tommy yelled in unison.

"Yep! You know it!" you beamed. "I say tonight we pop this bad boy in. Tomorrow's Halloween, it's perfect."

"YES!" chimed in Sarah and Ellie, Joel's daughter and adopted daughter, roughly the same ages in their early teens.

"Absolutely not! You two are too young for this gore, you'll be up for weeks." Maria pointedly gave an eyebrow to her husband Tommy. "You guys watch the movie, I'll take the kids and we have a girl's night. We can watch Practical Magic and make cookies. Then tomorrow we'll all go trick-or-treating." The girls were pleased with this compromise and began running up to their bedrooms, chatting frantically about their costumes and which houses were allegedly going to have full-size candy bars this year.

"Really? Zombie movies? They're just kids. They aren't old enough to deal with that kind of thing," Maria said to you, judging your lack of parenting skills.

"Sorry…" you said sheepishly.

Truthfully, Halloween was your favorite holiday and always has been. You loved the spooky aspect of it, but you also loved that you could be anyone you wanted, if only for a night. For once you weren't just "the fat girl" or whatever other mean things people thought about you. You could be Wonder-Woman, or Ariel, the Grim Reaper, or a ghost. You could even eat all the sugary snacks you wanted and nobody questioned it, because Halloween was a time to indulge in candy.

If there's one thing you're sad you didn't get to enjoy on Halloween, it was the thought of being with someone you love. You'd always wanted someone to dress up in a couples costume together. Or go to a pumpkin patch for a cute little date and pick pumpkins together. You'd even dreamed about someday having a little pumpkin of your own. Picking out a little baby costume, taking them out door to door while they tried to say "trick or treat" but didn't quite know how to say such big words yet. The thought of them getting spooked by a scary decoration and running back to their daddy's arms. Your handsome brave husband, holding them close and shushing them, rubbing their little back to make it all okay. Finally the three of you would go home, tuck the little one in, sort through the candy and maybe take some for the parent tax. Then you'd flop down on the bed together before sharing a different kind of treat.

Knocking you out of your daydream, the girls ran down the stairs, backpacks on their backs, still loudly chatting about Halloween. You sighed, Maria taking the kids out towards her house.

Tommy clapped his hands together excitedly and grabbed his phone and keys. "I'm picking us up a pizza. You two better not start this damn movie without me," he warned, gesturing with his fingers from his eyes to yours and then across to his brother's before ducking out the door. You laughed and headed towards the kitchen, starting to make a quick batch of cookies before Tommy returned. Joel stood awkwardly trying to help, but mainly was just sneaking bites of dough. "Knock it off Joel! There won't be any cookies left with you around." You elbowed him while he popped another glob into his mouth with a laugh.

You rolled your eyes while he argued with you. "Whatever. My brother doesn't need these cookies anyway. He doesn't deserve your bakin', darlin'." He ate more dough.

You couldn't help but feel your chest flutter with butterflies at his nickname, but you tried to ignore them. "Oh yeah, and what about me?" You pouted up at him. "Don't I deserve any cookies?" 

He put his finger on his lip as if deep in thought. "Hmmm… I dunno darlin'. Not sure if I could handle you if you get much sweeter." He winked.

"But I guess you deserve some too.." he plopped a wad of dough into your mouth, running his finger on your lip as he pulled his hand away. 

You smiled, cheeks feeling warm, and chewing the soft, sugary dough.

"Oh, Joel. You're too much.." you avoided his eyes, looking down at the mixer and pretending to be busy with the cookies. 

Why can't I get a man like Joel? You thought to yourself.

Two years ago, you had moved into your new house and met your neighbors, Tommy and Maria, Maria still very pregnant at the time. The three of you became fast friends and it wasn't long before you met Tommy's brother Joel. You were instantly enamored with him. His curly brown hair, mixed with silvery gray streaks, and those deep, gorgeous chocolate brown eyes. Although he could be a grump at times, it was mainly with his brother or his job, and he never showed it towards you. To you he was as sweet as the cookies you were eating.

You instantly developed a little crush on him and it seemed like he was over at his brother's house, or yours, more often than not. The two of you spent time together alone as well, watching movies, talking, doing whatever. Things felt so simple with him, and you knew he would always be there if you needed help with anything. With him, you never felt fat. You never felt ugly. You didn't feel self-conscious. You were just you. He was just him. 

As your friendship progressed, your crush developed quickly into love. But you knew deep down there was no way he could ever feel the same. He was too handsome and charming to ever go for a woman like you, so you pushed down your feelings as best as you could, and even tried some dating apps to try and find someone else to fill the empty space in your heart.

What you didn't know was that Joel was absolutely head-over-heels, smitten with you, from the moment he laid eyes on you at his brother's backyard barbecue. Sure he loved his brother, but nobody wants to spend that much time at their sibling's house. He came over constantly, hoping to see you, until eventually you became close enough that he didn't have to make a scene at his brother's house to get your attention. He could just go to yours. 

Tommy constantly teased him about it, and Maria couldn't help but notice the way you looked at Joel either. Even the kids could tell. The girls loved you like a mother, though you'd never see it. It seemed that it was obvious to everyone but you and him. Joel would flirt, try to gently touch you, be sweet, but you never picked up on it. Although you never pushed away his attempts, you never seemed to reciprocate either, so Joel just figured you didn't like him that way. But he couldn't help flirting, touching, staring at you. And if you didn't protest, he didn't plan to stop. He couldn't if he tried.

While the two of you talked, the cookies, what was left of them, baked in the oven. Finally Tommy came in, two large pizzas in hand. "Now I better not see that movie playing! I warned you two."

He noticed the black television screen and wandered to the kitchen. "Good. You waited for me- oh man! You made cookies? My favorite," he said with grabby hands towards the first pan, still cooling on the stove. 

"Now, don't spoil your dinner. You just brought pizza home, let's eat." You shot a knowing look with Joel after the two of you were practically full already with cookie dough.

"Fine. Whatever, mom." Tommy took a plate from you, sliding a piece of pizza onto his plate and heading towards the couch.

_____ 

An hour into the movie, you were all full with pizza and dessert, Tommy in the sofa chair on the side, you and Joel settled into the love seat. You leaned towards his right side, his right arm over the back of your seat. A blanket covered the two of you, and his left hand was crossed over his lap on top of the blanket, hoping you would hold it if you got scared. Whenever a jump scare did happen, you didn't grab for him, but at the slightest flinch, he would palm your knee, rubbing his thumb over you to calm you down. Such a nice guy. I'm so lucky to have him as my friend.

Once when Joel did this, Tommy caught the sight out of the corner of his vision. He rolled his eyes and gave a gagging face. Joel gave him a quick angry brother stare that made Tommy turn back toward the film.

At some point, you felt your pocket buzz. Peering under the blanket at your screen, you saw the little heart notification, letting you know it was one of the dating apps you downloaded. Heart beating faster, you excused yourself saying you wanted to get a drink. Upon entering the kitchen, you quickly opened the notification with shaky hands. You had sent out at least a half dozen matches to people, all turned down the second they saw your profile. The most recent had sent a message as well. "Seriously? Ur gross. Good luck finding anyone to date you lmao." Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked down at your body and pinched the fat of your stomach. You had four apps and had sent countless requests, matches, and swipes. Even guys who were big themselves had turned you down. You looked in the kitchen at the pile of cookies, the mostly empty pizza boxes, the bowl of Halloween candy. If the boys weren't here, you'd toss it all in the trash. You suddenly felt self-conscious. Your clothes were tight, your body was heavy and flabby, and you almost felt nauseous. The first sting of tears welled at your eyes, and you dashed off to your bedroom, hoping to quell these emotions before anyone would notice. You weren't ready to go back to the living room.

After a couple minutes, Joel had paused the TV to wait for your return. "She probably had to pee or something. Said she was gettin' a drink." Tommy nodded and the two of them talked. After about ten minutes had passed, Joel began to worry. Even Tommy began to wonder and finally said "where'd your girlfriend end up? It's been a while."

Joel shook his head at Tommy's name for you, but got up off the couch. "I'll go see what's up." He walked into the kitchen and didn't see you, so he kept walking through the house before finally starting upstairs. "Darlin'? You okay?" He still didn't see you, but upon approaching your bedroom door, he heard a soft sniffle.

He gently tapped on the door with his index finger's knuckle. "Sweetheart?" Your sniffling stopped and you quickly wiped your eyes, trying to hide your tears as he slowly opened the door.

"Hey, sorry, I didn't mean to make you guys wait, I was just changing into some comfier clothes." He noticed you had switched from your favorite dress to some sweats and a baggy hoodie. You still looked beautiful to him, though he was a bit confused at the change. "I'll be right down, why don't you go start the movie again." He crossed the room to sit next to you on the bed. "I'm not going to start the movie. What's wrong, darlin'?" 

You pouted, trying to choke back more tears, but his gentle brown eyes made it hard to keep your emotions inside. Joel cupped your cheek, running his thumb gently under your eyes and catching a tear that made it past your walls. You'd never cried in front of Joel before. You made it a goal of yours to try and hide any sad emotions from people, especially him.

"I don't want to ruin the night, Joel. It's nothing. Let's just go back downstairs. I'll be right behind you."

Joel stood up and nodded his head, walking out the door and closing it gently behind him. 

You didn't think he'd actually leave. But it shouldn't surprise you. Who wouldn't leave you?

An aggressive sob ripped through your chest.

_____

Joel walked downstairs, joining his brother.

"You find her?" Tommy asked.

"Yeah I did. Look, she's not feeling too good right now. I think it's best we call it a night."

"Ah, man. She sick or somethin'?" Tommy asked.

"Yeah somethin' like that. I'll stay and take care of her. Can you maybe keep the kids tonight?" Joel answered, ushering Tommy out the door. Tommy gave him a look, but nodded and walked out the door towards his own house.

Joel closed the door behind him and walked back upstairs, stopping to grab a glass of water for you on the way. He knocked gently again before entering your bedroom, and you turned around, surprised to see him. "Joel? I thought you were watching the movie?"

"Nah, darlin' I could never leave you when you're upset. I sent Tommy home and he's gonna watch the girls tonight. Here, I brought you some water." He sat the water on the nightstand. "Now, you wanna tell me why you're cryin'?" He sat next to you, rubbing your back gently.

You took a sip of the water, set it back down on the nightstand, and sighed, looking down at your hands in your lap which held your cell phone.

"Well, I uh…" you cleared your throat gently. "I recently joined some dating apps..."

Joel's heart took a slight stab, but he pushed it down. You're the one needing comfort, not him.

"I guess, I dunno… I know it's kinda silly, but I've been feeling kinda lonely and y'know... I'm getting older. I'm running out of time to have babies. But, I really just want someone to call mine. Someone to laugh with and go on dates with and…" you tapered off, not wanting to admit your desire for cuddles, kisses, and love-making. 

"Oh, sweet girl," he held you in his arms. "That's nothing to feel shy or silly about. It's natural to want those things. But why are you cryin'? Did somethin' happen?"

"I just… I haven't gotten any matches. Everyone I've sent anything to has denied me, and-" you sniffled and Joel pulled you tighter. "Shh, shh, sweet girl, it's okay. Those people on those apps, they don't know what they're missin' out on. They don't see how beautiful and sweet y'are. They wouldn't know how to treat you right anyway. If they can't see how wonderful you are, they don't deserve to be with ya anyway."

"Thank you Joel…" you muttered. "But… it's not just that. I got a message when we were watching the movie and I went into the kitchen to read it, and-" you handed him your phone with a sniffle. Joel pulled away from you, holding the phone back a bit to read it with his bad vision. As he read it, his jaw and fists clenched. It may have been the first time Joel saw you cry, but it was also the first time Joel got angry when it was just the two of you.

"If I knew where this asshole little boy lived, I'd go over there right now and kick his ass for saying something like that to you" he seethed. "I can't believe anyone would say something like that to you."

You picked at a hangnail on your finger, still staring at your lap. Finally Joel took a breath and looked at you again. "Darlin'. You don't - you don't believe that guy do you?" He asked while rubbing your back again.

"Maybe…" you felt tears run down your cheeks. "I mean, he's right, isn't he? I'm not attractive or skinny. Nobody wants me, not even any of these guys on this app. Even the guys who aren't skinny don't want me either."

"Sweetheart. That's just not true. Look at me-" he lifted your chin with his left hand, right arm still holding you close. You hesitantly met his gaze, your wet eyes looking into his gentle browns. "Those men, if you even wanna call them that, they wouldn't know what beautiful was if it slapped them across the face. You're the most beautiful, sweet, funny woman I've ever met. Any man would be lucky to have you." He took a deep breath before admitting, "I'd be lucky to have you."

"What-?" You interrupted him.

"Darlin'... I never want to push your boundaries, but you don't see how often I flirt with you, tease you, and touch you? You don't see how smitten I am with you?" You frowned, brows furrowing as you picked through your memory. "I thought you were just a nice guy. Just a friend. I didn't… I didn't think you could ever like me as more than a friend, so I just ignored the butterflies I got around you." 

You searched his eyes, waiting for a joke, or your alarm to go off and wake you up from this dream.

"Sweetheart, I've been in love with you since just about the time I saw you walk across my brother's lawn towards me. I just figured y'wasn't interested in me that way."

"Joel," you laughed. "I've felt the same way."

He smiled, once again tilting your chin, yet this time pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was gentle, but held so much love and meaning, that the two of you couldn't help but smile in the middle of it. He pulled away, "and by the way, y'aren't old either. If anyone's old here, it's me. But if you want babies, I'll give you all the babies you want. But you already got two girls who love you. Sometimes I think they even love y'more than me," he laughed.

You smiled at him and nodded "I do love those girls like they're my own. But I would still like a little baby someday too."

He kissed you again, more passionately this time, licking your lip until you opened up and let your tongues dance together. He pulled away, running his nose across your jaw before stopping at your ear. "Only one way to give you that, darlin'." He gently bit your earlobe before kissing down your neck. 

You sighed. "Joel… please."

"Please, what darlin'?" He purred, kissing your clavicle through your baggy shirt. 

"Please, make love to me" you answered breathlessly, tipping your head back so he could better access your neck. 

"Take these baggy clothes off then, baby. Lemme see you," he gave you one last kiss on the lips before the two of you began undressing, stopping every few seconds to share grabby kisses. Once undressed, he pulled you into him and kissed you deeply, your hands on his chest. With a swift move, he tumbled the two of you sideways so that you were now on the bed, him on his back and you straddling his hips. You leaned down, kissing his lips, while the slight movement against his waist caused you both to moan at the feeling. "Baby I've wanted this for so long. Let me take care of you," Joel whispered, thumb stroking your cheek. He flipped the two of you over, slithering down towards your waist, where you spread your legs for him. He groaned, looking at how evident it was you wanted him, pumping his already hard cock a few times. Flattening himself on his stomach, he gently touched your thighs and began to kiss your legs. "Y'sure you still want this, baby?" 

"Yes Joel, please" you answered, tense with anticipation. Without a beat, he tipped his head down, licking a stripe up your slit. You let out a sigh, hips bucking toward his face. "I know baby, I know." His low timbre vibrated through your core. He gave a quick peck to your clit before swirling his tongue around it and heading downwards, licking between your folds while his nose continued to put pressure on your clit.

His fingers slid through, touching your entrance in a questioning way. "Yes, Joel, please" you cried, wiggling closer, your hands tugging at his hair. 

With your pleas, he inserted his finger, curling upwards before adding a second and finally hitting that spot inside you that made your breathing catch in your chest. He stroked, while still licking gently, occasionally sucking on your clit. Before long you were gripping the sheets with one hand, his hair in your other, as you finally tumbled into your orgasm. "So beautiful, baby" he coaxed, licking you through the waves of pleasure. 

"Think you're ready for me?" He looked up at you over your plush tummy. "Yes, Joel, please I'm so ready."

He stalked over your body, kissing his way up. He kissed your vulva, "I love this," he purred. He kissed your stomach, running his hands across your sides. "I love this," he licked. "I love these," he massaged your breasts, kissing each nipple. "I love you" he finally looked you in the eyes, kissing you on the lips deeply. 

"I love you too." You kissed him back, running your hands through his messy hair, down his broad shoulders and back. His hand snaked around, grabbing his cock and giving a few strokes through your folds until he was wet enough. Finally he pushed against your entrance, slowly entering you, giving you enough time to adjust to his size. Your fingers clawed at his back as he finally pushed all the way in, the two of you sighing in relief. 

Your body adjusted, and with a kiss to his nose, you prompted him to move. "Okay Joel, I'm ready."

Slowly, he began to thrust, pulling slowly out and gently pushing back in, eventually picking up to a pleasurable pace. He kissed you like his lips couldn't be away for longer than a few seconds, and it didn't take much before you were barreling towards your second release of the evening. "I'm almost there, Joel" you kissed, grabbing him around his back. "Me too, baby. Come for me." His thrusts were getting sloppy, but you could tell he was holding himself back for you. His fingers drifted over your clit, giving a few circular strokes and causing you to shudder around him, your eyes slamming shut with a moan. He followed right behind you, a couple messy strokes before pumping into you, filling you up and working you both through it. As the two of you came down from your high, he kissed you passionately, holding you like you were the only thing in the world. 

The two of you lay on your sides, you snuggled into his chest, his chin resting on your head before eventually he became soft and slipped out of you. You both sighed at the loss, but held each other until you rolled out to use the restroom and clean up. When you returned from the bathroom, you asked if he wanted to stay and he said yes. 

You lent him an extra toothbrush and the two of you stood side by side, brushing your teeth and stealing glances at each other in the mirror with matching lovesick smiles. Things felt domestic and comfortable as the two of you walked back to bed, sharing soft kisses snuggled to each other. Having completely forgotten why you were upset earlier, you fell asleep curled into his arms, full of love and hope for the future with a man you loved. 

_____

The next morning, you woke up to the smell of coffee brewing and breakfast cooking. You strolled down the stairs and saw Joel, wearing just his boxers and tee shirt, grabbing a slice of toast from the toaster. 

At the sound of your steps, he turned and smiled softly. "Morning, baby."

"Good morning, handsome," you replied, pressing a kiss to his lips. 

"I could get used to that," Joel replied, squeezing your ass and pulling his face away to look in your eyes.

"Joel! You devil," you giggled, gently smacking his arm. "You ain't seen nothing yet, baby" he nibbled your jaw.

After the two of you ate breakfast, you shared a shower, and he threw on a pair of extra clothes he keeps in his car. It would be hard to keep his visit a secret from his brother with his car still in your driveway, but as far as Tommy was concerned, you were sick and Joel was taking care of you.

The two of you made the walk over to Tommy's house to get the girls and participate in Halloween activities for the day. Walking in the door, Tommy pulled you into a hug. "Hey, we were worried about you! Are you feeling better? Were you sick?"

You looked up at Joel, sharing a knowing look. "I was just a little upset about something, but I'm feeling much better now," you smiled. 

Tommy gasped. "FINALLY!!!!" He threw his hands in the air while Maria grinned. 

"Cough it up Tommy!" Sarah held out her hand to her uncle. "You know I had October." He handed her a five dollar bill.

"You bet money on us?" Joel asked in disbelief, rubbing your back. 

"Obviously. You guys have both been pining since you first met," Ellie answered, rolling her eyes. "It was too entertaining for us to interfere though," Sarah added with a smirk.

You stared down at your shoes, feeling embarrassed, but Joel grabbed your hand. You smiled up at him and it felt like everything was aligned. "Yep, we finally took the step. And now I get to do this whenever I want," Joel pulled you into his arms for a deep kiss. 

"UGH. GROSS, DAD." Ellie and Sarah groaned, walking out of the room.

You both laughed, sharing a smile and heading towards the group to get ready for Halloween with your family.

[offtorivendell]

Why is Azriel so "different"?On Dusk, Hel and the Valg...

This post was written for @azrielappreciationweek Days 1, 2 and 3: Cool Quiet, Scarred and Belonging

Disclaimer: the following is only a theory which, as usual, makes no claim of being canon. It's LONG, even though I've almost certainly forgotten to add some thoughts I've misplaced. I'm sorry, but by the time I realised how stupidly long it would be I cbf splitting it up into smaller posts, so... no offence taken if this gets chucked into the too-hard basket.

My thanks, as always, go out to the lovely @wingedblooms, @ladynightcourt3 (the queen of quotes), @silverlinedeyes, @psychologynerd, @elrieldreamer, @cassianfanclub @shitwillnotbegiven, and anyone else who has helped me process my thoughts along the way. 💜

Spoilers: the entire Maasverse is referenced, reader beware.

One theory that seems to be (mostly lol) accepted across the fandom is that Azriel, the shadowsinger of Prythian's Night Court, may be more than simply Illyrian. Back in 2021, before reading the Crescent City series, I had wondered whether he might be descended from the Dusk Court (here, here and here), but after HOSAB was published - and then HOFAS especially - I had other thoughts. This post is just incredibly fucking belated.

Firstly, what evidence do we have to suggest that Azriel is different?

Quite a bit, in my opinion. From the moment Feyre met Azriel back in ACOMAF, there have been hints that, even beyond his seven siphons, he is not your average Illyrian warrior. That he may, in fact, be significantly different even to Rhys and Cassian.

As we can see, Feyre felt his otherness right from the start.

But the second male, the more classically beautiful of the two … Even the light shied from the elegant planes of his face. With good reason. Beautiful, but near-unreadable. He’d be the one to look out for—the knife in the dark. Indeed, an obsidian-hilted hunting knife was sheathed at his thigh, its dark scabbard embossed with a line of silver runes I’d never seen before. Rhys said, “This is Azriel—my spymaster.” Not surprising. Some buried instinct had me checking that my mental shields were intact. Just in case. - ACOMAF, chapter 16

Now, there's a lot to unpack in that brief passage - and I aim to do so over the course of this post - but let's begin with Feyre's instinct to ward against Azriel; a reaction that was unique to him. This was followed by further suggestions that Azriel is not purely Illyrian throughout the rest of the series, some of which are quite blatant.

Cassian finished his laughing. “Illyrians are certainly not High Fae. And glad of it.” He hooked his black hair behind an ear—rounded; as mine had once been. “And we’re not lesser faeries, though some try to call us that. We’re just—Illyrians. Considered expendable aerial cavalry for the Night Court at the best of times, mindless soldier grunts at the worst.” “Which is most of the time,” Azriel clarified. I didn’t dare ask if those shadows were a part of being Illyrian, too. - ACOMAF, chapter 16

"You'll get used to it—the wording," he said. Clinging to him so tightly, I couldn't see his face. I watched the light shift inside the sapphire Siphon instead, as if it were the great eye of some half-slumbering beast from a frozen wasteland. "I don't really know where I fit in any- more," I admitted, perhaps only because the wind was screeching around us and Rhys had already winnowed ahead to where Cassian's dark form flew-beyond the wall. "I've been alive almost five and a half centuries, and I'm not sure of that, either," Azriel said. - ACOMAF, chapter 22

Azriel just shook his head. "I'll go. The Prison sentries know me—what I am." - ACOWAR, chapter 16

I was rasping for breath, sweat sliding down my spine, by the time he said, "Good." He cleared his throat. "I know you're not Illyrian, but amongst their kind, it is considered inappropriate to touch someone's wings without permission. Especially females." Their kind. Not his. - ACOWAR, chapter 19

One glance at Azriel’s unreadable face and I added, “Don’t bother to answer that.” A corner of Azriel’s mouth curled up, the shadows about him sliding over his neck like living tattoos, twins to the Illyrian ones marked beneath his leathers. Shadows different from anything my powers summoned, spoke to. Born in a lightless, airless prison meant to break him. Instead, he had learned its language. Though the cobalt Siphons were proof that his Illyrian heritage ran true, even the rich lore of that warrior-people, my warrior-people, did not have an explanation for where the shadowsinger gifts came from. They certainly weren’t connected to the Siphons, to the raw killing power most Illyrians possessed and channeled through the stones to keep from destroying everything in its path. The bearer included. - ACOFAS, chapter 7

"Azriel can winnow all the time, though." "Az is different. In a lot of ways." His tone didn't invite further questioning. - ACOSF, chapter 16

He left the rest unspoken. Because her mate was here, sleeping a level up. Because her mate had been in the family room and Azriel had needed to stay by the door the whole time because he couldn't stand the sight of it, the scent of their mating bond, and needed to have the option of leaving if it became too much. - ACOSF, Azriel's Bonus Chapter

There was even a hint or two about Azriel's possible Starborn heritage in HOFAS, thanks to Bryce.

“What have you done?” Azriel rasped, and Bryce twisted to find him on his feet, wings tucked in, Nesta leaning against him as if wounded, Ataraxia dangling from her grip. The male now held the Starsword at the ready, Truth-Teller gripped in his other hand. He must have had some sort of Starborn blood in him, then—a distant ancestor, maybe. Or maybe his possession of the knife somehow allowed him to also bear the Starsword. - HOFAS, chapter 24

Obviously Azriel is still Illyrian, I don't know anybody who disputes that in a non-crack theory manner, but it seems likely to me that he's also something more¹. All of the above hints about his shadowsinging powers, his own feelings of otherness to his people, and - potentially² - his ability to smell the Elucien bond as Lanthys did Nessian, the fact that we have yet to meet his mother? Is it simple coincidence, or intentional hints?

I could definitely be wrong, but I'm choosing the latter.

¹ "More" as in quantity, not quality. This is by no means a diss at Cassian or Rhys.

² To be fair, the true mate theory could also explain this; by the point in ACOSF that Nesta and Cassian met Lanthys they'd already been intimate, even if their bond was not yet "accepted."

The Dusk Court

As mentioned above - here, here, and here - I've been wondering for a long while if Azriel could be connected to the Dusk Court (or what remains of it). I think this could be both through his likely Starborn heritage as well as descending from the Hewn City specifically.

She found nothing but open curiosity on Nesta’s face. Nesta said, “The scar your light comes from … it’s shaped like an eight-pointed star. Why?” Bryce peered at where the light was muffled by her T-shirt. “It’s the symbol of the Starborn, I think.” “And the magic marked you in this way?” “Yes. When I … revealed who I was, what I am, to the world, I drew the star out of my chest. It left that scar in its wake.” She glanced to Azriel. “Like a burn.” - HOFAS, chapter 12

I'd even started a meta on it, one of many that I lost track of and then never got around to finishing because my magpie brain latched onto other shiny theories or books, but the gist of it was that Azriel's mother (or, more likely imo, a distant female relative, such as his grandmother) hailed from Dusk. Given I thought the Hewn City/Court of Nightmares was the Dusk Court acting as a sub court to the Night Court, I had written an entire spiel about how one of Lord Thanatos' troublesome daughters may have been this female ancestor who fell in love and had a child with an Illyrian warrior who died prematurely, leaving her with nothing (not even a family who would take her back, because Hewn City bullshit amiright? Especially if she was unable to have further children after birthing a winged child), and that we hadn't met Azriel's mother yet because she might have spoilery traits like small/different wings or her own shadows. I went a lot deeper - funnily enough, my thoughts actually mirrored a bit of Hunt's mother's relationship with the father he never met (HOFAS, chapter 61) - and even wondered if this was partly why the Darkbringers and Illyrian soldiers disliked each other in ACOWAR... but those are the basics.

HOSAB then gave a different sort of importance to Lord Thanatos, but I don't think it necessarily precludes my original theory being right somehow, especially as "daughter" might be used as loosely as "son" was by Apollion in HOFAS, to mean that some power was donated for their creation. Even now, I still suspect Azriel may have hidden - or even corrupted - Starborn powers, which should indicate some minimum level of Dusk-based heritage.

While we now know the Made blades can be wielded by the Starborn - descendants of the Dusk Court - in addition to Made faeries such as Elain Archeron, I always suspected that Truth-Teller was much more important than we knew from the start (and I know I'm not the only one intrigued by the blade). After reading Crescent City, the parallels between Azriel's and Ruhn's almost guardianship of their respective magical blades until a female character³ came along to activate their power seemed to be significant (though of course with Elain it's still hypothetical, as we haven't had her POV yet).

³ Bryce may have been Theia's magical heir (though I suspect it may be through Ember rather than Einar), but she lives on Midgard - an entirely different planet. While the Archeron sisters may (or may not) spring from more humble beginnings than Fae royalty, imo they do share some notable parallels with Bryce and Theia herself. I discussed those in this post after HOSAB came out; since reading HOFAS, I suspect the Archeron sisters will grow to, as a unit, replace the Starborn magic that Bryce took, leaving Prythian unguarded. The power of three will set the land free, so to speak.

But back to Azriel. We know that Ruhn Danaan - the shadowy male who claimed the Starsword/Gwydion until a female associated with light came along and was able to activate its magic... sounds familiar, huh - is a Starborn prince who can wield shadows, and has some powers that appear similar to Az (shadow walking and mind speaking), though imo it may have been suggested that his light - aka Pelias' light - might be considered corrupt by Rigelus (while posing as Aidas).

Is Azriel's light magic corrupted as well?

“You knew the last Starborn Queen?” Ruhn asked. Starlight glinted among Ruhn’s shadows, shimmering down the length of his sword. Aidas’s eyes now flared with a strange sort of rage as he looked upon the Fae Prince. “I did. And I knew the sniveling prince whose light you bear.” A ripple of stunned silence went through the room. [...] “Theia was dead by that point,” Aidas said flatly. “Pelias slew her.” He nodded to the Starsword in Ruhn’s hand. “And stole her blade when he’d finished.” He snarled. “That sword belongs to Theia’s female heir. Not the male offspring who corrupted her line.” - HOSAB, chapter 15

Morven’s shadows gathered at his fingers, his shoulders. Wild, angry shadows that Ruhn’s own balked to meet. They seemed corrupted somehow, like those Seamus and Duncan wielded mentally. “You are Starborn. You have an obligation to our people.” - HOFAS, chapter 51

Further, Cormac and Morven Donnall are both Starborn and Avallen faeries, with "wild" shadows that seem to more closely mirror Azriel's own.

“How the hell did you manage to survive this long without anyone killing you?” Cassian tipped back his head and laughed, a full, rich sound that bounced off the ruddy stones of the House. Azriel’s brows flicked up with approval as the shadows seemed to wrap tighter around him. As if he were the dark hive from which they flew and returned. - ACOMAF, chapter 16

Azriel nodded his agreement, his shadows twining around him. Most of the camp women had ducked into their homes when he’d appeared. - ACOWAR, chapter 18

She set down her teacup. “Is that a threat, Shadowsinger?” Cassian took a long drink from his own tea. Drained it to the dregs. Azriel said coolly, “I don’t need to resort to threats.” The shadows coiled around him, snakes ready to strike. - ACOSF, chapter 8

Azriel nodded his agreement, his shadows twining around him. Most of the camp women had ducked into their homes when he’d appeared. - ACOFAS, chapter 26

The thought was … not comforting. But neither were the shadows that curled like snakes around the king, wild and twining. A coiled crown of them sat atop Morven’s dark head, blacker than the Pit. - HOFAS, chapter 47

Without delving into the "why" of their wildness - was it the magical imbalance of the chained land that led to their wilder shadows, their prolonged proximity to an incredibly strong thin place (the obsidian or mists), was their line intentionally corrupted by a high power as Prythian's Cauldron was, or do they potentially have ties to demons, or the princes of Hel themselves? - it's not implausible to suggest that Azriel could also hail from the Starborn Fae of the Dusk Court, same as Rhys.

That being said, I think Hel will also play a part...

Prince of Hel

As I suggested in this reblog of @nikethestatue's post from way back when, I've been eyeing off one Lord Thanatos of the Hewn City (and his wayward, troublesome daughters) for a while. So when SJM dropped the bomb in HOSAB that the Prince of the Ravine, the soul eater, was called Thanatos, I was basically shaking my feet and screaming internally.

Because it had to be the same being, right? Right?!

I know I'm not the only one who noted the use of Thanatos' name, as others across the fandom have since suggested that Azriel may be related to the princes of Hel, or even be one himself... and as I've said before, I would not be surprised if this was the case (actually, at this point I would be shocked if Azriel wasn't related to the Hel Princes in some way, especially after what we learnt of Hunt's ancestry in HOFAS).

“Fine,” Hunt cut in. “Great, we’re protected.” He eyed the Prince of the Pit. His very bones shook, but he forced himself past his fear, his dread. “What the fuck did you mean by calling me son?” Thanatos scoffed. “You are no son of his.” He yanked off his war helmet, cradling it under an arm. “If anything, you are mine.” Hunt’s knees buckled. “What?” [...] “Because the Princes of Hel cannot be contained by the black crowns. The Asteri learned that—it was their downfall. As you were made by Hel’s princes, it should not be able to hold you.” Made by them? By these fuckers? - HOFAS, chapter 59

“Can we please rewind for a moment?” Bryce cut in. “You guys made the thunderbirds to complement my power—in case I never got the sword and knife, and if I ever needed a boost to open the Rift. But when they were hunted down, you … made Hunt, and then I was born …” “Athalar was already enslaved by then,” Aidas said, “but we kept a close watch.” Apollion nodded to Hunt. “Why do you think you’re so adept at hunting demons? It’s in your blood—part of me is in your blood.” Nausea clawed its way up Hunt’s throat. The thought of owing anything at all to the Prince of the Pit … “Just as he gave over some of his essence for the kristallos,” Thanatos said, “so he gave something to me for you. His Helfire.” “Helfire?” Bryce demanded. “The lightning,” Thanatos said, waving an irritated hand. “Capable of killing almost anything. Even an Asteri.” “That’s how you killed Sirius?” Bryce asked. “With your … Helfire?” “Yes,” Apollion said, then added to Hunt, “Your name was a nod to that, whispered in your mother’s ear as you were born. Orion … master of Sirius.” “Clever,” Hunt snapped, then demanded, “Wait—my lightning can kill the Asteri?” Hope bloomed, bright and beautiful in his chest. “No,” Apollion said. “It is … diluted from my own. It could harm them, but not kill them. I believe your mother’s angelic blood tempered my power.” - HOFAS, chapter 61

“Your father knew your mother briefly,” Aidas said. “And he knew having a partner would help lift her from her poverty. He had every intention of staying. Of leaving behind his life and raising you in secret.” Hunt could barely ask, “What happened?” “The mystics told Rigelus of your father’s connection to us. They didn’t discover everything—nothing about you or your mother. Only that he had been speaking to us. Rigelus had him brought in, tortured, and executed.” Hunt’s heart stalled. “He didn’t break,” Apollion said with something like kindness. “He never mentioned your mother, or her pregnancy. The Asteri never knew you were tied to him in any way.” - HOFAS, chapter 61

Bryce squeezed his knee, her hand so warm—or was he unnaturally cold? “Okay, so Hunt was made to be a backup battery for me—” “Can I do the same for Ruhn, then?” Hunt interrupted. “No,” Thanatos said. “The prince’s light, his affinity for these thin places, isn’t strong enough. Not like hers.” Hunt gripped Bryce’s hand atop his knee. “Is it in my DNA that Bryce and I are mates? Was that engineered, too?” “No,” Aidas said quickly, “that was never intended. I think that was left to higher powers. Whatever they may be.” Hunt turned to Bryce and found nothing but love in her eyes. He couldn’t stand it. Horror cracked through him, as chilled as hoarfrost. He’d been created by these males to give and to suffer, and where the fuck did that leave him? Who the fuck did that make him? “Okay,” Bryce said, “Helfire and starfire: a potent combination. But Helena left all this shit to help end this conflict. It sounds like you guys just want me to open a gods-damned door for you to come in and save the day instead.” - HOFAS, chapter 61

Thanatos used some of Apollion's helfire (lightning) to create Hunt as a weapon for Bryce, so it stands to reason that he may have done something similar in the Hewn City/Court of Nightmares that eventually resulted in Azriel, possibly with a different Prince of Hel - was it Koschei, or even himself - leaving "poisoned honey" on Prythian in case the Daglan/Asteri ever regained power? Feyre once referred to Azriel as a "dark hive," and we now know that he often helped Cassian to hunt down monstrous creatures like Blue Annis... could this be why? Does he have a natural talent for it, like Hunt? Was Az also created for a specific purpose?

I've been on the "Azriel and Elain are carranam" train from the time I joined the fandom, and since then I really do think that the three brothers and three sisters will act as paired conduits to save their world, as I mentioned in my third note above. In addition to the parallels I've noted between the Archeron sisters and Bryce (and Theia), Elain and Az shared a "charged" glance in ACOSF.

Nesta shook her head slowly, not understanding. Elain just linked her arm through Nesta’s and led her toward the family room, where Azriel stood in the doorway, monitoring them. As if he’d heard Elain’s sharp laugh and wondered what had caused it. “I was just checking on dessert,” Elain explained as they approached the doorway and Azriel. Nesta met the shadowsinger’s stare and he gave her a nod. Then his gaze shifted to Elain, and though it was utterly neutral, something charged went through it. Between them. Elain’s breath caught slightly, and she gave him a shallow nod of greeting before brushing past, leading Nesta into the room. - ACOSF, chapter 58

The very first book of the ACOTAR series confirmed that magic can appear as a charge in Prythian...

I opened my mouth to again ask him for his name, but a growl of annoyance rippled out of him. I didn’t have a chance to struggle, to fight back, when a charged, metallic tang stung my nose. Exhaustion slammed down upon me and blackness swallowed me whole. [...] I awoke with a jolt atop the horse, secured by invisible bonds. The sun was already high. Magic—that’s what the tang had been, what was keeping my limbs tucked in tight, preventing me from going for my knife. - ACOTAR, chapter 5

And then HOFAS gave us this - Azriel learning that he can charge up a Starborn Fae. A point that was so important to make that SJM ignored - or had reasons we are yet to learn - the fact that Azriel could have winnowed the three of them across the gap himself. Curious, given how she made doubly sure we knew how "different" Az was in ACOSF.

But Bryce frowned deeply at Azriel. “Do you ever use that power to, uh, charge people up?” “Charge?” “Fuel. Um. Give your power to someone else to help their power.” “Are you implying that I could do such a thing to you?” “I’m pretty sure the concept of a battery won’t have much meaning here, but yeah. My magic can be amplified by someone else’s power.” The other untranslatable word—battery—lay heavy on her tongue. But Nesta looked her over. “For what purpose?” “So I can teleport.” Another word that didn’t translate. “Winnow.” She pointed to the other side of the divide. “I could winnow us over there.” - HOFAS, chapter 16

Obviously there's always the possibility that SJM simply wrote that Azriel didn't winnow because A) he didn't want to expose any further facets of his magic unnecessarily to a Fae he had no reason to trust, or B) he wanted to see what Bryce could do, but what if it was C) that he lacked the strength to winnow at the time, as @ladynightcourt3 has so brilliantly thought? Because potentially, if light can blind an Oracle - one who may or may not use the murky realm of the Void to See - then there's a possibility that their growing proximity to the power chained deep in the land, or even Vesperus herself, may have made Azriel less able to see where he was going with his shadows to safely winnow them. Or was it that, similarly to whatever bond that exists between Elain and Lucien becoming too much for Azriel to bear, maybe the singing between Gwydion and Truth-Teller was distracting him?

As an aside, furthering the parallel between Hunt and Bryce that I noted earlier, I think the following passages support the idea that Azriel may be able to charge Elain, or that Elain can charge him as well, in addition to suggesting that he may be able to sense minds, or enter some that are more susceptible.

And what Hybern would do to Elain, might already be doing— From the shadows near the entrance to the tent, Azriel said, as if in answer to some unspoken debate, “I’m getting her back.” Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel’s hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows. Nesta said, “Then you will die.” Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, “I’m getting her back.” - ACOWAR, chapter 64

Azriel slid back the curtain— Elain was in her nightgown. Gagged, wrists wrapped in steel that glowed violet. Her eyes went wide as she saw us—Azriel and me— I shifted my face back into my own, raising a hand to my lips as Azriel knelt before her. I kept up my litany of praying, beseeching the Cauldron to make my womb fruitful, on and on— Azriel gently removed the gag from her mouth. “Are you hurt?” She shook her head, devouring the sight of him as if not quite believing it. “You came for me.” The shadowsinger only inclined his head. “Hurry,” I whispered, then resumed my prayer. We had until it ran out. - ACOWAR, chapter 65

Azriel’s power gave out on the outskirts of our camp. The girl, despite the burns and lashings on her moon-white skin, was able to walk. The gray light of morning had broken over the world, mist clinging to our ankles as we headed into that camp, Azriel still cradling Elain to his chest. He dripped blood behind him the entire time—a trickle compared to the torrent that should be leaking out. Contained only by the patches of power he’d slapped on it. Help—he needed a healer immediately. - ACOWAR, chapter 65

Azriel didn’t give Rhys a chance to reconsider. Didn’t say good-bye to any of us. He shot into the sky, those still-healing wings beating hard as they carried him toward the scrambling northern flank. - ACOWAR, chapter 71

Elain’s mouth twitched into a smile. "Nesta wouldn't appreciate the joke.” He offered her a smile back. "I wasn't sure if I should give you your present." He left the rest unspoken. Because her mate was here, sleeping a level up. Because her mate had been in the family room and Azriel had needed to stay by the door the whole time because he couldn't stand the sight of it, the scent of their mating bond, and needed to have the option of leaving if it became too much. Elain's large brown eyes flickered, well aware of all that. Just as he knew she was well aware of why Azriel so rarely came to family dinners these days. - ACOSF, Azriel's bonus chapter

Bryce squeezed his knee, her hand so warm—or was he unnaturally cold? “Okay, so Hunt was made to be a backup battery for me—” “Can I do the same for Ruhn, then?” Hunt interrupted. “No,” Thanatos said. “The prince’s light, his affinity for these thin places, isn’t strong enough. Not like hers.” - HOFAS, chapter 61

We know that Elain likely shares that strong affinity for thin places, as may Az. Feyre mentioned the gray light of morning, mist around their ankles. Does this make them the ideal conduits for each other, as Hunt and Bryce were? As Feyre and Rhys - and, I suspect, Nesta and Cassian - are? Are they all meant to be "weapons" against a long, deeply sleeping foe?

Finally, let's revisit the first passage I mentioned at the top of this post, when Feyre first met Azriel:

But the second male, the more classically beautiful of the two … Even the light shied from the elegant planes of his face. With good reason. Beautiful, but near-unreadable. He’d be the one to look out for—the knife in the dark. Indeed, an obsidian-hilted hunting knife was sheathed at his thigh, its dark scabbard embossed with a line of silver runes I’d never seen before. Rhys said, “This is Azriel—my spymaster.” Not surprising. Some buried instinct had me checking that my mental shields were intact. Just in case. - ACOMAF, chapter 16

Hunt stilled. There was only one being whose name was not uttered in Midgard. The Prince of the Pit. Apollion. His blood chilled. This was a fucked-up, weird-ass dream, no doubt caused by Quinlan literally blowing his mind into smithereens— “It is no dream.” The seventh and most lethal of the demon princes of Hel was in his mind— “I am not in your mind, though your thoughts ripple toward me like your world’s radio waves. You and I are in a place between our worlds. A pocket-realm, as it were.” “What do you want?” Hunt’s voice held steady, but—fuck. He needed to get out of here, to find some way back to Bryce. If the Prince of the Pit could get into Hunt’s mind, then— “If I went into her mind, my brother would be very angry with me. Again.” Hunt could have sworn he heard a smile in the prince’s voice. “You certainly worry a great deal about a female who is far safer than you at the moment.” - HOSAB, chapter 21

“During my time with Theia, Helena was a quiet girl, but she always listened.” “You spoke too much,” Thanatos snapped. Aidas ignored him. “Helena learned black salt would allow her to commune with us while protecting her mind and her soul.” - HOFAS, chapter 59

Given the princes of Hel were fathered by the Void - Apollion, the Prince of the Pit, said he resides in true darkness and has the ability to enter minds - and mothered by Chaos (who is possibly Wyrd?⁴), that they are attracted by obsidian (the material from which Truth-Teller's hilt is made), who may or may not use wyrdmarks that might match the runes on Truth-Teller's hilt (post on this to come), who appear to be able to use a black salt-induced dream state to communicate across worlds with their minds... it seems a little more than coincidental to me that Feyre would think to protect her mind from Azriel.

⁴ A personal crack theory that I'd love to be true - I think the eight pointed star may be Urd/Wyrd's or Chaos' symbol: a Chaos star. @wingedblooms has discussed Wyrd and Chaos here and here.

I once noted Azriel's similarities to Koschei, who can send his whispers on the wind, twisting distant minds to do his bidding. If Koschei is a prince of Hel - the sixth prince, of the Abyss? - could he have contributed towards Azriel's creation, either directly, or through the making of a female ancestor? Azriel has the ability to speak the language of shadow, wind and stone, which could plausibly tie in with Koschei as a hell prince: void, wind and obsidian. Or if it was Thanatos - the eater of souls - does this affect Azriel's ability to sense others around him, as Rhys once suggested? We know he's capable of using his shadows to read people. Was Azriel's existence, intentional or not, a secret like Hunt's?

Or to be completely cracked, is Azriel actually the heir to a currently empty throne in Hel?

Elide asked Lorcan, “Do you—do you feel any different?” The lack of the gods who’d watched over them. Lorcan peered up at the trees overhead, as if reading the answer in their entangled branches. As if searching for Hellas there. “No,” he admitted. “What does it mean,” Gavriel mused, the first rays of sun beginning to gild his golden hair, “for them to be gone? Is there a hell-realm whose throne now sits vacant?” “It’s too early for that sort of philosophical bullshit,” Fenrys said... - KOA, chapter 101

Whatever is going on here, please consider me still all aboard the Azriel is related to the Princes of Hel train until told otherwise by SJM. Choo Choo!

The Valg

Moving on from the princes of Hel, many of the fandom - myself included - are desperate to know exactly how Aidas and his brothers may be related to the Valg, a race of demons we met in SJM's 'Throne of Glass' series. Are they the same as, or simply related to each other? Did Hel's princes - or possibly Void and Chaos - create the Valg as well, or did the Valg just evolve naturally on the planet that is Hel, eventually turning it cold and barren? I know some in the fandom have drawn parallels between Rhys and Maeve, and theorised that he may be partly Valg, which would be such a twist if true! I'd love it.

But more than all of that, I want to know what Azriel may have to do with the Valg. Because in addition to my suspicions that the King of Hybern may have been infected by a Valg/Valg-type being (and that Elain assassinating him with a sunlight charged Truth-Teller was akin to Yrene healing Erawan out of existence), I have been wondering about Azriel and his shadows for years. I know I've suggested that Koschei could be a prince of Hel, but I also think there's a chance he could be Valg. I outlined in this post, where I wondered if Koschei was once known as Fionn - yes, I can see there's a pattern forming here, thanks 😂 - if he had once loaned magic to the King of Hybern, who had "hateful black eyes" and a "galaxy" in his palm, in order for Hybern to be powerful enough to orchestrate a scenario that Koschei was unable to himself, given he's trapped at his lake; considering this possibility in the context of the Valg existing in Prythian, and that Koschei may be one of them, it could mean that Koschei himself, or a loyal Valg prince, was possessing Hybern's king; a pawn until he was no longer required.

As I mentioned earlier, there are significant parallels between Azriel and Koschei that should not be ignored, especially if Koschei ends up being his magical ancestor in some way. In addition to this, Azriel's history and habits are intriguing when laid out next to what we know of the Valg as a species. Although, given the similarities between the Princes of Hel and the Valg, much of the following could indicate some sort of link to either species (that's assuming they're actually different, of course).

The Valg's true form involves a smokey, shadowy aura, while Azriel is a shadowsinger, described as a "dark hive" from where his shadows originated.

Cassian tipped back his head and laughed, a full, rich sound that bounced off the ruddy stones of the House. Azriel’s brows flicked up with approval as the shadows seemed to wrap tighter around him. As if he were the dark hive from which they flew and returned. I tried not to shudder and faced Rhys, hoping for an explanation about his spymaster’s dark gifts. Rhys’s face was blank, but his eyes were wary. Assessing. I almost demanded what the hell he was looking at, until Mor breezed onto the balcony with, “If Cassian’s howling, I hope it means Feyre told him to shut his fat mouth.” - ACOMAF, chapter 16

While a Valg's possession of someone's body is often confirmed through their unnaturally black eyes, it's interesting that Erilea's witches - who are half Valg and half fae - are increasingly prized the more golden their eyes are. Though Azriel's eyes are naturally hazel, a colour which often contains flecks of gold, they have notably glowed golden before. @psychologynerd and I have both discussed the possibility that Azriel could be a witch; this could be another indication of his hypothetical Valg ancestry. Edit: I just found this brilliant post, by @sak2605 which included a passage where Valg described Manon's gold eyes as the eyes of their masters!

And what Hybern would do to Elain, might already be doing— From the shadows near the entrance to the tent, Azriel said, as if in answer to some unspoken debate, “I’m getting her back.” Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel’s hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows. Nesta said, “Then you will die.” Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, “I’m getting her back.” - ACOWAR, chapter 64

“Hello, princeling,” she said, her voice bedroom-soft and full of glorious death. “Hello, witchling,” he said. And the words were his own. For a moment he was so stunned that he blinked. He blinked. The demon inside of him recoiled, clawing at the walls of his mind. Eyes of the Valg kings, eyes of our masters, it shrieked. Do not touch that one! - QOS, chapter 58

We know the Valg fear fire so much they attempted to wipe out Aelin's entire flame-wielding family.

Credit for the observation goes to @ladynightcourt3 but Azriel's brothers burnt his hands. Furthering the possibility we have discussed before, that his horrible half brothers were pouring oil onto some sort of Starborn flame that he may have unwittingly exhibited, could said Starborn magic have sparked in the first place because it was trying to purify itself from a dark, shadowy infestation taking root in the lightless dungeon? Imagine if the pain of the burns only fuelled the Valg attempting to hijack young Az! Bryce even looked at Azriel when discussing the scary her star left and, while Nesta thought Azriel was lying when he said his shadows don't like the flames so much because he's sat in front of the fireplace "plenty," we do know they tend to avoid the light of a different sort of flame: the sun.

I didn’t doubt his claim. And the other Illyrian … “Azriel—his hands. The scars, I mean,” I said. “Where did they come from?” Rhys was quiet a moment. Then he said too softly, “His father had two legitimate sons, both older than Azriel. Both cruel and spoiled. They learned it from their mother, the lord’s wife. For the eleven years that Azriel lived in his father’s keep, she saw to it he was kept in a cell with no window, no light. They let him out for an hour every day—let him see his mother for an hour once a week. He wasn’t permitted to train, or fly, or any of the things his Illyrian instincts roared at him to do. When he was eight, his brothers decided it’d be fun to see what happened when you mixed an Illyrian’s quick healing gifts with oil—and fire. The warriors heard Azriel’s screaming. But not quick enough to save his hands.” - ACOMAF, chapter 18

Azriel lingered near the door, quiet enough that when Feyre and Mor began talking about some of her paintings, Nesta went over to him. “Why don’t you sit?” She leaned against the doorway beside the shadowsinger. “My shadows don’t like the flames so much.” A pretty lie. She’d seen Azriel before the fire plenty. But she looked at who sat close to it and knew the answer. - ACOSF, chapter 58

She found nothing but open curiosity on Nesta’s face. Nesta said, “The scar your light comes from … it’s shaped like an eight-pointed star. Why?” Bryce peered at where the light was muffled by her T-shirt. “It’s the symbol of the Starborn, I think.” “And the magic marked you in this way?” “Yes. When I … revealed who I was, what I am, to the world, I drew the star out of my chest. It left that scar in its wake.” She glanced to Azriel. “Like a burn.” - HOFAS, chapter 12

The Valg use rings and necklaces of wyrdstone, an obsidian material, to infect a host, and in addition to Truth-Teller's hilt being made from obsidian - I've wondered before whether it could be a wyrdkey, or even possessed - Azriel was once described as not having shadows at his ear, or darkness ringing his fingers when around Elain. Does this mean that his shadows - which we now know are concentrated magic - could be infected by a Valg-type being such that they can influence his mind, and maybe even control his body? Could he become a "mindless" soldier grunt?

But the second male, the more classically beautiful of the two … Even the light shied from the elegant planes of his face. With good reason. Beautiful, but near-unreadable. He’d be the one to look out for—the knife in the dark. Indeed, an obsidian-hilted hunting knife was sheathed at his thigh, its dark scabbard embossed with a line of silver runes I’d never seen before. Rhys said, “This is Azriel—my spymaster.” Not surprising. Some buried instinct had me checking that my mental shields were intact. Just in case. - ACOMAF, chapter 16

Cassian’s dark brows narrowed. I dragged a hand over my face before going to Elain and touching her too-bony shoulder. “Can I set you up in the garden? The herbs you planted are coming in nicely.” “I can help her,” said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose. No shadows at his ear, no darkness ringing his fingers as he extended a hand. Nesta monitored him like a hawk, but kept silent as Elain took his hand, and out they went. - ACOWAR, chapter 30

The Valg princes can feed on pain and nightmares; in the ACOTAR, shadows are frequently associated with - and can even darken with - pain. Azriel was once described as having shadows and terrors over his shoulder, and there are many examples of his shadows gaining strength when he is uncomfortable or hurting, and lightening when he is happy or content. Is this because his nightmares/negative emotions are less potent and so stop fuelling the Valg he is - hypothetically - carrying around?

I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection … that knife. - ACOWAR, chapter 69

“Can’t sleep?” Cassian took up a fighting stance. A shadow curled around Azriel’s neck, the only one brave enough to face the sunlight. “Something like that,” he said, and settled into his own stance across from Cassian. Cassian let it drop, knowing Az would have told him already if he’d wanted to share what had been hounding him enough to exercise at night, rather than in the morning with them. - ACOSF, chapter 23

Speaking of, what is going on with this newly brave shadow? If Azriel or his shadows are hosts in some way for Valg-type being/s, is something causing them to gain on him? Is it his notably intensified depression from ACOSF, or the fact that he was standing above the House of Wind, the heart of which might be connected in some way to Hel? Alternatively, is it a positively denoted response to his new proximity to the Archeron sisters and their (hypothetical) different forms of Starborn light?

Could Azriel's shadows/magic simply be possessed, or are they actually a swarm of Valg in their own right, either wholly or in part, and attempting to use Azriel and Truth-Teller as a thin place to cross into Prythian? This behaviour fits with what we know of them as a species, though of course we don't know if they have the ability to do this specifically. But if Azriel does harbour some sort of Valg infestation, it becomes very interesting that his shadows respond by brightening around Feyre, who is a powerful healer, Mor - whose power is Truth (Damaris, the sword of Truth, was used in Erawan's death), and Elain⁵ (of whom many have wondered if she contains pure life or rebirth from the Cauldron, which could potentially allow her to heal - especially given the frequent use of "dawn" to describe her, another parallel with Yrene, the Torre Cesme, and even the Dawn Court in Prythian).

⁵ I'm including this information in the discussion not because of any shipping preference, but due to its relevance if Azriel really is infected by a Valg-type being.

Could this phenomenon extend beyond the fact that they, like the rest of his found family, all make Azriel feel comfortable within himself, and mirror what we learnt about Yrene⁶ and her powers? Otherwise, it would be incredibly coincidental that Elain is the sister who loves to nurture the cycle of life by gardening, who is so often described with imagery pertaining to warmth and the sun (especially at dawn), who has wielded Truth-Teller in such a way that may indicate she activated its powers and weakened a possible Valg prince, who has been strongly linked to hope, who has a different sort of strength, who has even brought a king to his knees...

⁶ @wingedblooms has previously discussed Elain's parallels with Yrene here and here; as always I suggest reading her brilliant posts!

Erawan panted as he approached. “Healer,” he breathed, his unholy power emanating from him like a black aura. She backed away a step, closer to the balcony rail. The dark king followed her, a predator closing in on long-awaited prey. “Do you know how long I have looked for you?” The wind tossed his golden hair. “Do you even know what you can do?” She hesitated, slamming into the balcony rail behind her, the drop so hideously endless. “How do you think we took the keys in the first place?” A hateful, horrible smile. “In my world, your kind exists, too. Not healers to us, but executioners. Death-maidens. Capable of healing—but also unhealing. Unbinding the very fabric of life. Of worlds.” Erawan smirked. “So we took your kind. Used them to unbind the Wyrdgate. To rip the three pieces of it from its very essence. Maeve never learned it—and never shall.” His jagged breathing deepened as he savored each word, each step closer. “It took all of them to hew the keys from the gate—every one of the healers amongst my kind. But you, with your gifts—it would only take you to do it again. And with the keys now returned to the gate …” Another smile. “Maeve thinks I left to kill you, destroy you. Your little fire-queen thought so, too. She could not conceive that I wanted to find you. Before Maeve. Before any harm could come to you. And now that I have … What fun you and I shall have, Yrene Towers.” - KOA, chapter 113

Erawan’s power swelled, but Yrene was already glowing, bright as the far-off dawn. - KOA, chapter 113

Erawan didn’t seem to know where to look. Not as Dorian sent out a punch of his healing light that knocked him off balance. Not as Lysandra leaped upon the dark king, pinning him to the stones. Not as Elide, Damaris in her hands, plunged the blade deep through Erawan’s gut, and between the stones below. Erawan screamed. But the sound was nothing compared to what came out of him as Yrene reached him, hands like burning stars, and slammed them upon his chest. The world slowed and warped. Yet Yrene was not afraid. - KOA, chapter 113

He arched, shrieking, but Damaris held him down, that ancient blade unwavering. His dark power rose, a wave to devour the world. Yrene did not let it touch her. Touch any of them. Hope. It was hope that Chaol had said she carried with her. Hope that now grew in her womb. For a better future. For a free world. - KOA, chapter 113

The gods might have been gone, Silba with them, but Yrene could have sworn she felt those warm, gentle hands guiding her. Pushing upon Erawan’s chest as he thrashed, the force of a thousand dark suns trying to rip her apart. Her power tore through them all. Tore and shredded and ripped into him, into the writhing worm that lay inside. The parasite. The infection that fed on life, on strength, on joy. Distantly, far away, Yrene knew she was incandescent with light, brighter than a noontime sun. Knew that the dark king beneath her was nothing more than a writhing pit of snakes, biting at her, trying to poison her light. - KOA, chapter 113

A thought and Yrene’s power flared brighter. Erawan screamed. The power of creation and destruction. That’s what lay within her. Life-Giver. World-Maker. Bit by bit, she burned him up. Starting at his limbs, working inward. And when her magic began to slow, Yrene held out a hand. She didn’t feel the sting of her palm cutting open. Barely felt the pressure of the callused hand that linked with hers. But when Dorian Havilliard’s raw magic barreled into her, Yrene gasped. Gasped and turned into starlight, into warmth and strength and joy. - KOA, chapter 113

Yrene’s power was life itself. Pure, undiluted life. It nearly brought Dorian to his knees as it met with his own. As he handed over his power to her, willingly and gladly, Erawan prostrate before them. Impaled. The demon king screamed. - KOA, chapter 113

I could be wrong of course! But it just seems too coincidental to me that we have all of these parallels between one of the Archeron sisters⁷ and the unassuming healer who - together with her friends - executed a Valg king in Erilea when I have suspected for a while that Azriel's shadows had been hijacked or corrupted in some manner.

⁷ I once posted, ages ago, that Azriel's shadows do not recoil from Elain Archeron, and even though I just outlined why I think she might be able to heal/purify them (assuming they're corrupted, of course), I stand by the theory. It is the corruption that would be vanishing/weakening around her and not the concentrated magic itself. And it would be an interesting tie in to the "purity language" (not my term) that SJM has used between them. That's the only shippy note I'll make here, and only because it would otherwise appear like I was contradicting my earlier self.

Anyway! If you've read this far then well done you, I'm sorry I didn't break this up into more manageable sized posts. I hope it all made sense, I did leave a bit out to try to salvage some of its atrocious length, so if I realise I forgot to tie something back around I may come back and fix it. But to sum up once more, I do think - and others have also noted - that there are many parallels between Azriel and the Starborn/Dusk Court Fae, the princes of Hel and the Valg, though one could argue that the latter two parallels extend to any void-based or demonic beings in general (which tracks if I'm correct that Illyrians can trace at least some of their origins to Hel).

Thank you for reading! 💜

[theocddiaries]

Jonathan: There's nothing wrong with my hearing. Tim: Um, I have a hearing test app on my phone. Martha: Let's do it! Tim: Okay. Everybody under the age of 60 should be able to hear this. [High-pitched beep] Everyone: Yeah, definitely. Jonathan: What? You're lying. You didn't hear anything. Martha: We did. See? You're deaf. Tim: Okay, 70. [Higher-pitched beep] Everyone: Yep. Heard it. Jonathan: Come on! Did she put you up to this? Tim: Here, Grandpa, I'll play you something even louder. [Nothing] Jonathan: Okay. I heard that one. Tim: I didn't press anything. Jason: Oh, look who's a cheater. Jonathan: You know, I don't need any of this. Lois: Oh, come on, Jonathan. Aren't you being a little oversensitive? Clark: Oh, well, we can consult dear Lana over there. She's the self-appointed sensitivity expert. Bruce [sighs] Lana: Oh, let it go. Clark: I will not let it go. In fact, I would like everyone to be honest with me, please, right now. No sugarcoating. Lana here seems to think you all have to walk on eggshells around me. Do you all think I'm so fragile you can't tell me things for fear of how I will react? Lois: Well-- Bruce: Lois, don't. Zip. Bup, bup, bup. Clark: No. Let her talk, please. Lois, you have the floor. Lois: W-Well, you aren't not fragile. Clark: …Okay. Well, why don't you give me an example of something you haven't told me because you were worried I couldn't handle it? Go on. Lois: …All right. Last week when we were supposed to have lunch and you canceled-- Mm-hmm. Beyoncé was at the restaurant. Bruce and Lana: Ah, damn. Clark: …Okay. Uh, the singer or Jim's dog? Lois: The singer. And when I was leaving, I-I stopped and I said hello to her and we chatted for, like, 10 minutes. Clark [Nods]: Okay, that's great. I'm glad you had that experience. I mean, I don't know what you talked to her about, seeing that you don't know any of her songs other than "Single Ladies," which everyone knows. Jonathan: Love that song. Martha: I'm surprised you can hear it. Bruce: Well, this was fun. Who's hungry? Hey, where's that boar? Clark: Okay, anyone else? Damian: Well, since we're coming clean… Bruce: Damian. Damian: …you overuse the word "divine." It's just an ice cream sandwich, Kent. You're the boy who cried "divine." Clark: Okay. Was not aware of that. Duly noted. Jason: Hey, I got one! Remember that blue rotary phone you gave me for Christmas? Clark: Yes. Jason: I tossed it. Clark: Okay. May… May I ask the reason? Jason: It made me feel like Ann-Margret in Bye Bye Birdie. Clark: Okay, anyone else? Dick: I don't really like the shirts with the crazy cuffs. Clark: I'm sorry. I'll take note of the fashion expert who went out to fight crime dressed as Disco Stu. Bruce and Lana: And here we go! Clark: No, no. Here we don't go. This is fine. I'm fine, okay? Everyone: … Conner: When I was little, I used to pretend to be asleep, so you'd go. Clark [Stiffles a sob in a high-pitched tone] Jonathan: That I heard. Clark: Well, I heard you all loud and clear. I have to use the restroom. Bruce: Clark, you're sensitive. Big deal. It's one of your best qualities. Clark: Thank you, Bruce, and I'm sorry your Beyoncé-loving new friend ignored you blatantly and blackmailed Falcone behind your back. Bruce: You what? Lois: … Oh, come on, I was there like… thirty minutes top! [Clark breaks the doorknob. He looks over his shoulder, seeing all attention on him again] Clark [Hesitant, to Lana]: See? Farm strong.

[myunghology]

— ✦ suits 'ya better than it does on me!

featuring mika kagehira x gn! reader (ft. shu :3)

warnings none!!

genre + context fluff, mika surprises reader with a matching outfit ^^

a/n for bffie. @xinnabon Spedrun this so u could feel bettur

"Mika.. Your outfits are adorable. Do you think I could borrow them sometime?" You say, catching the young male off guard from his stitching— specifically stitching the small plush keychain of a cat he bought you while you two were out shopping.

He pauses for a little bit, thinking of an answer. "Uh.. 'm not sure. Would they even fit you? Maybe they'll be too big." The older male responds, Tilting his head. Was that supposed to be a compliment or an insult—?

Before you could open your mouth, he announces; "'M done. Looks as good as new. Should really stop buying 'ya things with cheap material.. Breaks too easily." He whines, fixing his stance to hand it back to you.

You smile as you clip it back to the zipper of your bag, making him smile as well, looking at your bag and then back up at you. "'Yer seriously already smiling just because of that? It was nothing."

"Everything and anything you'll do for me, I'll appreciate it." You say, looking at him with warm eyes, making him stutter. "So pretty.. 'Yer so pretty when you smile. I- I mean, 'yer always pretty, but especially when you smile. Like a gorgeous antique doll. "

He feels butterflies starting to stir in his stomach, he knows that you two are already dating— but he cant help but feel giddy whenever he talks to you. "Seriously? You're prettier than me."

Mika feels a warm blush creeping up on his cheeks as he starts to panic, "E-eh?! Don't be goin' around sayin' stuff like that to other people!" He responds while you pout.

"But it's true..?"

The next following day, you've decided to visit Valkyrie testing out— or basically fitting on their new clothes ready for debut with their newest song, well, not really? That was still for next week. But you weren't going to pass up the offer to see your boyfriend and his Oshi-san's new clothes before anyone else does.. Right?

Didn't think so.

"'M glad Oshi-san let you see us in these outfits beforehand," Mika says with a wide grin, Shu looking away in embarrassment; You weren't really upset about that.. It was clear he was still getting used to you. In a good way!

So here you were, sitting down while taking in the sight of your boyfriend and his unit mate in the new clothes they designed for themselves before looking back at their faces. "But they're really pretty. You did a great job on these outfits, Shu. You never upset."

The older male clears his throat from embarrassment, A faint blush coating his face. "Anyway.. Kagehira, don't you have something to give to [Name]?" Shu mentions, making your eyes sparkle.

Mika perks up, realizing— he almost forgot! "Right! Made somethin' for 'ya with Oshi-san's help." He says, his stupid yet cute smiles creep up to his pretty little face before running over to get something.

Your eyes carefully follow his movements, to which he ends up having neatly folded clothes in his arms. "This is for 'ya. Mentioned yesterday that you liked my clothes, so I decided to make a matching one for 'ya. 'M not taking all the credit though!" You smile at his words as he carefully puts it on your lap, they did this in just a day?

"Can 'ya try it on?" He asks, obviously in a flustered state. ".. Of course." It was fairly obvious that you were absolutely appreciative, walking over to their dressing room.

Some time later, you come out. Mika's face immediately lights up, while a small smile shows up on Shu's lips. The design is exactly like what Mika would wear— but added a little bit of personal touches too.

"This style suits 'ya better than it does on me! Looks adorable on 'ya. but 'ya look adorable wearing anything else anyway." He claps, making you blush.

"If you don't mind me asking.. How'd you get my measurements?" You ask genuinely confused, but then Shu tries to open his mouth— Mika ends up signaling him to stay quiet, making him scoff playfully. Guess that question isn't getting answered.

"It does look good on you though." Your boyfriend smiles at the compliment, even though it isn't for him. "See? Even Oshi-san agrees! Thanks to his help, this is my gift to you."

©myunghology. — xin feel better pukebear.. labyu brah ❤️

[weneeya]

Another request 👉🏼👈🏼

Depressed geto × reader , Their first meeting and their attraction to each other, and how geto finally felt like he could breathe after he felt happy with her and fell in love with her.

saving his life w/ geto m.list | rules

note. thank you for your request!! I'll try my best then <3 requests are open :)

The last few days, or even weeks, were pretty hard for Geto Suguru. Since the incident with his best friend and their mission, Suguru hasn't been the same. He was clearly overthinking all the time, and getting out was a real difficulty for him. He was doing the bare minimum, when he was able to. Depression was hitting hard, even if he refused to admit it. 

He was outside today, as he had to do some groceries. Nothing too much, but it was a necessity. Long black hair running down his shoulders, and visible dark circles under his eyes ; no one would dare even approach him like this. No one except you. 

He was in front of a display, looking for something, when he heard someone clear his throat. You were right behind him, with this soft look on his face, all shy at the idea of talking to him. You looked away, playing nervously with the handle of your bag. 

“Excuse me, can you help me, please? I need this, up there, but I can’t reach it,” you said, pointing out the thing on the top shelf. He looked at it, before looking back at you. He stayed silent, before grabbing the said thing, and giving it to you. A smile appeared on your lips, before you let his gaze again. 

“Thank you!” You told him, before slightly waving at him. In those words, you left to go back to doing your own groceries. He stayed there for a few moments before a soft smile left his lips, going back to what he was doing. 

After this, you met each other a few times. It was like fate wanted you to meet again and again. It was in random situations, and soon or later he learned your name. He wasn’t really in the mood  to meet anyone, or even to let anyone come into his life ; but you were so sweet, all the time. 

You were like a ray of light in the dark hell of his mind. You were constantly the only positive thing that happened in his day every time he was meeting you. You were just here, with your bright smile and your soft voice. No matter how bad he felt, it was always better when you were here. 

He wasn’t so sure about how he felt about you. It was a bit messy in his head because he was so lost with himself and his own emotions. But after some time, he started to see you voluntarily. In fact, he was asking you out for dates, but he wouldn’t admit it. He wasn’t ready to even think about a relationship right now. 

But you were, and you knew that you started to like him. Suguru was a man who was getting killed slowly by his own mind, and you didn’t want to let him stay in this hell alone. You wanted to help him, and he was willing to let you do it, then you would. 

Day after day, you were growing closer to each other. And finally, Suguru started to realize how he felt towards you. You were a new breath in his life, and he knew that he couldn’t get out of this alone. He needed help, and letting you get into his life would probably be the first step for this. This is why he decided to speak to you about it. 

He called you, asking you to join him in his own apartment, which you did without hesitation. You were a bit worried about him, because he wasn’t really letting you in too frequently. Something inside of you was telling you that something happened. You were glad to see that you were wrong. 

Suguru offered to come sit on the couch with him, and you did without saying anything. Both of you stayed silent for a few moments, before he broke it. He sighed slowly, before massaging his temples. He looked at you, hesitating for some time. 

“I wanted to thank you. You’re helping me, probably more than you would think, and I needed to say thank you,” he started, and you were ready to answer when he stopped you by raising his hand a little. “Let me finish, please.” 

You nodded slowly, and he pursued his words. “I think I’m ready to get some help, for real I mean. But I can’t do this alone. And…” He sighed one more time, rubbing his cheek as he was searching for his words. “What I’m trying to say is that I would love to have you in my life. More than this, I mean.” 

You looked at him without saying anything, processing what he had just said. You weren’t so sure of what he meant, or at least you were scared that you understood it wrong. You were looking into his eyes, before you finally answered. “Are you… asking me out?” 

He looked away, and you could see a hint of a blush over his cheeks. You took it as a yes, and a soft smile appeared on your lips. You slowly grabbed his hands, making him look back at you. “I’d love that, Suguru.” 

This time, it was his turn to process your words. He hoped with everything that you would say yes, but a part of him was scared that he would make you run away. And as you were ready to say something, he simply took your face between his hands to kiss you like his life was depending on it. 

It was only the first step, but he knew that with you in his life, nothing could go wrong.

hope you liked it!! I've done my best, sorry if it's not perfect :(

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Nightingales

A Stedancy fanfiction

Summary: Nancy helps Steve take care of an injured Eddie.

Nancy let herself in like Steve said she should. She found him in his kitchen, shirtless with bandages on his back, wrapped around his arms, and his stomach. Steve was leaning against the counter, drinking a glass of water.

"Hey," Nancy said softly.

"Hey," Steve said.

She noticed how tired he was. They all were. It would be a long time before anything would get back to normal, if at all.

"How's Eddie?" Nancy asked.

"Worse than I am, he's sleeping right now," Steve said and sighed. "At least mine are getting better. It seems like sometimes his bites are getting worse. Although the doctor did talk about the possibility of the nerve damage being permanent. I hope not. He doesn't deserve that."

"No, he doesn't," Nancy whispered. "Do you need any help with him? I'll be glad to help. I figured I'd see Dustin over here."

"Yeah, Dustin got into a fight with his mother. She wanted him to stick around, didn't want him wandering off, which I don't blame her. The gates are closed, but they all know now, and the jocks are still on the warpath even though Eddie's been cleared of all charges. Plus, the whole fiasco with the police. . .Anyway, Dustin, as usual, put his foot in his mouth, so now he's grounded," Steve said.

"Yeah, Mike's been put on lock down, too, and he says that Lucas has as well," Nancy said. "The only reason that I got out is that I'm legally an adult, and I chose to stay in that house for as long as possible."

"They're all scared," Steve said.

"Yeah, I don't blame them, either," Nancy said. "Mom's pretty pissed at Joyce and Hopper for keeping them in the dark."

"I don't blame them for that either," Steve said.

"So, I guess Robin's parents have her on lockdown, too?" Nancy asked.

"Oh, yeah, and they don't care that she's now legally an adult either," he said as he finished his water.

Nancy watched him his swallow, staring at his throat for longer than she should have.

"So, you've got no one here to help you out with Eddie?" Nancy asked.

"I mean, Wayne comes by when he can, and Jeff. Gareth, of course, is being taken care of by his mother. His hand is still messed up. Doug refuses to step foot in here," Steve said. "Even if it's for Eddie."

"Why doesn't Doug want to step foot in here?" Nancy asked.

"In his eyes, all jocks are bullies," Steve rolled his eyes. "He tried to convince Jeff and Wayne to break Eddie out of here. I think Wayne might have given him what for, though."

"Well, that's not right. Even back then, you didn't toss anyone around. You were always there to stop Tommy and Carol," Nancy said, and then she smiled. "I wouldn't call you a bully, but a douchebag? Oh, yeah."

"That's fair," Steve smirked.

"Still, you saved his life, Doug should know that you're not a bully just because of your interests," Nancy said.

"It couldn't have been easy to watch Gareth get thrown around like that, especially in Gareth's own garage," Steve said.

"You're a lot more understanding than he is," Nancy said, looking at him softly.

"He'll come around, Eddie did, and if he doesn't, then it's his loss. It's too bad, though, I make really good brownies," Steve said and she laughed.

"I broke up with Jonathan," Nancy said, and Steve smiled, opening his mouth.

"AHHHH!"

Steve and Nancy both jumped. They looked at each other.

"Is that - ?"

"Nightmare."

They both took off. Nancy ran after Steve, her heart racing.

"CHRISSY! WAKE UP!"

They burst through the spare bedroom. Eddie was thrashing about, with the soaked sheets twisted around his legs. Nancy moved toward him, but Steve held her back.

"Eddie! Wake up! You're having a bad dream!" Steve yelled. "EDDIE!"

Eddie's eyes snapped open, and his arm shot out. He hit the pillow next to him.

"Fuck," Eddie sobbed. "I pissed myself again."

"It's okay, Eddie," Steve said and moved towards him. "Let's get you to the bathroom."

Steve and Nancy helped peel back the sheets before helping him sit up.

"You don't have to do that," Eddie said to Nancy.

"I want to. . .unless, do you not want me to help?" Nancy asked.

"I don't care," he scoffed, and Nancy smiled.

Nancy wrapped an arm around Eddie while Steve did the same on his other side. Together, Steve and Nancy helped him to the bathroom. They set him down on the toilet seat.

"You need a bath," Nancy said. "Do you want us to help with that?"

"Steve struggles when he gives me a bath," Eddie mumbled.

"Yeah, he tries to bite me when I give him one," Steve said. "Except when Wayne's helping me."

"Steven Nightingale over here forgets he's injured as well," Eddie said. "He needs a reminder."

"Steven Nightingale," Nancy snorted as she ran the bath, and Steve rolled his eyes. "It fits."

As the bath filled up, they gently helped Eddie out of his clothes. Nancy peeled off his bandages, and she couldn't stop the wince when she looked at his stitches.

"Yeah, it's fucked up, isn't it?" Eddie asked.

"Sorry," Nancy said.

"Don't be," he said.

"It looks a lot better than before," Steve said.

"Is he always this optimistic?" Eddie asked.

"Oh, yeah," Nancy smiled.

"I miss my nipple," Eddie said, holding a hand to his chest.

Nancy laughed and Eddie smiled when she did.

"Laugh it up, Wheeler, and be thankful you've got two of them," he said, showing her his dimples.

They lowered Eddie into the bath, and he hissed slightly before relaxing.

"Any particular way you like to wash your hair?" Nancy asked.

"No," Eddie said. "Go nuts."

"Well, I do. I got shampoo specifically for your hair," Steve said, as he grabbed them.

"You ever worried that one day you're going to go bald?" Eddie asked.

"Why would you say something like that? No, seriously, what have I ever done to you?" Steve asked and Nancy giggled.

"Sorry, I had to poke fun at you, big boy," Eddie said.

"Nancy," Steve said seriously. "My hairline isn't receding, is it?"

"No, you're good," she laughed. "Now, you've done it. He's going to be thinking about it all day."

"This bath is boring. You don't have any bath toys?" Eddie asked.

"How old are you?" He scoffed.

"Old enough," he grinned.

"Why don't you just play with yourself?" Nancy asked.

Eddie and Steve's heads turned to look at her. They both smirked.

"Okay, but you should know that I'm a screamer," Eddie said, gleefully.

"I mean, like, use your imagination," Nancy said, blushing. "That's not any better, is it?"

"No," Steve and Eddie said.

It fell silent as Eddie let Nancy and Steve wash his hair. Nancy smiled as Eddie hummed in contentment. She was pretty sure. . .was he humming Metallica?

"So you broke up with Jonathan, huh?" Steve asked.

"Yeah," she replied.

"So, like, any particular reason. . .?" Steve asked and Eddie snorted.

"Well, there are quite a few reasons. One of them is that we just don't understand each other anymore, and we both want different things," Nancy said.

They fell quiet again as they moved from washing Eddie's hair to carefully washing his body.

"Any other reason?" Steve asked.

"Well, I don't know, I'm trying to think," Nancy said, teasingly.

"Oh, come on, Wheeler, don't leave a man hanging," Eddie said.

"Okay, so one of the reasons might have been you," Nancy asked, smiling.

"Yeah?" Steve asked, grinning.

"Yeah."

"This is nice," Eddie said. "Do you guys usually flirt with each other while touching another man's junk? Unless you guys want me to be a part of this? I'm telling you now that you guys are going to have to do all the work. My arms hurt too much for me to even jerk off. . .hm, this is the most action I've gotten since that girl got dared to sleep with me."

"Sorry," Nancy and Steve said, pulling away and blushing.

"You know, if we were to invite you to sleep with us, I don't think it would be for a joke," Nancy said. "At least for me."

"Me neither," Steve said.

Eddie went quiet after that, his cheeks red. He stared at them for a long time, his dark eyes intense. They carefully got him out of the bathtub and dried him off before rebandaging his wounds. They carefully guided him back to the bedroom, wrapped up in the towel. They set him down in the chair, and Nancy sat down with him on the arm. Steve took the bed clothes down to the wash and came back to replace them with new ones. All the while, Nancy casually combed her fingers through Eddie's wet hair. He sighed and leaned into her touch. Steve placed his hands on his hips with a smile.

"Alright, done," Steve said. "I also got you some new sweats."

Eddie burst into tears and buried his face into Nancy's lap.

"Eddie?" Nancy asked softly.

"You don't have to wear the sweats! I can find you something else, you name it!" Steve exclaimed.

Eddie laughed and sat back up, wiping his face.

"No, Stevie, it's not that. I just don't want to go back to sleep," Eddie said.

"Well, you don't have to if you don't want to. The doctors just recommended that you rest as much as possible until you're ready to move around," Steve said.

"We were dancing," Eddie said softly, eyes downcast.

"What?" Nancy asked.

"In the dream, Chrissy and I were dancing in my old living room. She was laughing and smiling. I twirled her around, and then she did the same for me, spinning me out. When I turned around, she was frozen like she had been - her eyes like they had been in real life. Suddenly, we were falling because the floor had broken underneath us, and I kept trying to reach for her. I couldn't catch her, and I couldn't wake her up. I just wanted to go back. I wanted to dance with her and make her laugh. Suddenly, we were back at that picnic table, but her broken body was sitting there in front of me. I kept wanting her to wake up, for her to actually be there," Eddie sobbed. "I couldn't save her."

"Eddie, there wasn't anything that you could have done," Nancy said.

"I know, everyone keeps fucking telling me that and I keep waiting for myself to believe it," He sniffled. "You must think that I'm so pathetic, I clearly can't handle all this shit."

"And you think we handle it?" Steve asked.

"Look at you," he scoffed.

"Eddie, we may look like we do, but we don't have it all together," Nancy said.

"Yeah, we're complete messes," Steve said.

"You're just telling me that," he frowned.

"Eddie, all of us have nightmares. All of us," Steve said. "I may not scream, but I wake up in the middle of dripping with sweat, and it takes me a minute to realize that there aren't Russians standing over me ready to cut me open."

"Russians?" he asked.

"There was a secret Russian underground base under Starcourt that I got trapped in last year with Dustin, Erica, and Robin," Steve said. "They tortured me, then they drugged Robin and I without our consent."

"Torture? They tortured you?!" Nancy exclaimed.

"Yeah, I thought it was obvious with my bloody face and all," Steve said.

"No, it wasn't," Nancy said. "Oh my god, Steve."

"It's fine, I'm fine, Nancy," Steve said.

"You just said that you have nightmares about Russians standing over you to cut you open," Eddie pointed out. "Oh, yeah, you guys are a mess."

"We're going to talk about that later when you're ready," Nancy said softly and turned to Eddie. "I know what it's like to feel guilty about feeling responsible for someone's death. My best friend, Barb, died, and all I could do was blame myself for it. Not even getting justice for the people who were responsible for it helped. The only thing that did was realizing that there wasn't anything that I could have done and reminding myself of that. . .constantly."

"And time. Time and moving forward really helps, man. Take as many steps as you want, and they can be whatever size you want them to be. They can even be baby steps," Steve said.

"He's right about that," Nancy said, laughing with Eddie.

"It's okay, not to be okay," Steve said, squeezing Eddie's hand. "We all went through hell."

Eddie leaned back against Nancy, letting her start up the hair brushing again. He sighed, wiping his face.

"I hope you don't mind me asking. . . why do you feel like it's your fault that Barb died?" Eddie asked.

"Oh, well, I probably should talk about it. It's still pretty difficult, but I was just beginning to date Steve, and I was completely smitten with him. Will had gone missing, but Steve wanted to throw this gathering with Tommy and Carol. . .which now that I'm thinking about, I realize that you probably didn't want to be alone," Nancy said.

"Yeah, I did do that," Steve said bashfully, scratching the back of his neck.

"Anyway, ever since I laid eyes on Steve, I wanted him. . .all of him. I had this plan. Get a new sweater, get a new bra, and get on birth control," Nancy said. "I wasn't ashamed of how I felt, but I also didn't want to be one of the many girls that he had slept with."

"Uh, it actually wasn't that many, to be honest," Steve admitted.

"What? Why didn't you tell me?" Nancy asked.

"Because I'm not sure that you'd believe me that you were only the second woman that I slept with. I told other people that I didn't sleep with them, but they just assumed that I was ashamed of sleeping with those women," Steve shrugged. "Everyone just wanted to use me for my father's name and popularity. Nancy was the only one who didn't. I should have come clean about that because rationally I knew that you wouldn't be like those other people."

"You know, I never really think that guys like you have it hard, but life really is hard for everyone," Eddie said, shaking his head.

"Well, I found that with the right people, it certainly makes life better," Steve grinned at the both of them.

"Nancy Wheeler, I just wanted to let you know that you have competition now," Eddie grinned.

"You're vunerable right now, I can take you," she laughed.

"I think even if I wasn't, you could absolutely destroy me," Eddie said

"Oh, in the worst way possible," Nancy grinned.

Eddie stared at her, resting his head on her shoulder, letting her brush the hair out of his eyes. A look of realization appeared in his eyes, and they went wide as she looked at her.

"Holy shit, so the first time you two had sex. . .your best friend died?" Eddie asked.

"The first time I had sex over all," she said.

"Damn, I can see how that would fuck you up," he said softly. "I'm sorry that happened."

"For the longest time, I felt ashamed for my feelings for Steve. The last words my best friend told me was that what I was about to do wasn't me. And when I was looking for Barb with Jonathan, he told me that I thought I was being rebellious, but really, that I was every other girl who wanted to sleep with Steve. He told me that I was going to be stuck in a loveless marriage to a former jock just like my parents," Nancy said.

"He said that?" Eddie said. "What a dick."

"He was being defensive. I don't think he actually meant that. At least, I hope he didn't," Nancy said. "For the longest time, I was ashamed of how I felt about Steve. I was afraid that everyone was right. I was even ashamed of having sex. Even when I wanted to be with him, I felt like I shouldn't, I felt like this wasn't what people wanted for me, what Barb wanted for me."

"Forced conformity doesn't just belong to the conservatives," Eddie whispered. "You'll find that people do it in every group."

"Yeah, I suppose," Nancy said and looked at Steve.. "And as the one year anniversary of Barb's death came up, the anniversary that we had sex, I suddenly found myself even more ashamed. I couldn't breathe, but I couldn't think about celebrating that. I was drowning and I wanted to tell you how much I loved you but I couldn't. You were there for me, you were there every step of the way for me during that year and I couldn't stop the shame I felt for loving you and also having feelings for Jonathan. He was the easier path to follow, the one that hurt the less. It was always you, Steve. I have always loved you. No one else got me the way that you did. No one else saw me the way that you did. It's always been you, Steve Harrington."

Steve had been holding his face in his hands and finally, his body started to shake with sobs.

"If you don't go to him, I will," Eddie said.

Nancy kissed Eddie's forehead, got up, and slid into Steve's lap. She tilted his head up, his red rimmed eyes meeting hers.

"Sorry about crying," Steve said.

"It's sweet," Nancy said.

She kissed Steve’s forehead, both cheeks, as well as a kiss on his nose before finally pressing her lips to his. She could feel more tears spill out, and a little sob came out as he kissed her back. She smiled and deepened it further, wrapping her arms around his neck as he placed his hands on her hips. Her decision solidified even further as she slipped her tongue into his mouth, and he let out a moan. She suddenly felt like there were eyes on the back of her neck, and she remembered that Eddie was still in the room. Nancy didn't stop, and she didn't want to stop. She wanted Eddie to keep watching. Steve was the one to break the kiss, however.

"Sorry, Eddie, we forgot you were there," Steve said.

"No, man, it was a great show," Eddie said, his smile so wide his dimples were showing and his eyes were twinkling.

Nancy looked at Steve's hair, running her hands through it.

"You know, I think your hair might be receding a little," she said thoughtfully.

"What?!"

"You're right, Eddie, that was fun," Nancy said, and Eddie cackled.

Over the next couple of weeks, Nancy spent time between her house and Steve's. She was determined to help both Steve and Eddie, even when Steve didn't realize that she was helping him. Eddie was starting to move around more, and he could even walk downstairs, although he had to have help. Nancy insisted on having their first date at his house and having Eddie join them. Eddie, however, didn't know that it was a date, but Nancy just couldn't leave him out. Neither could Steve, apparently.

"Okay, so, I heard that you're going to Emerson, or at least you're planning to," Eddie said as he slurped the spaghetti.

"Oh, well, we don't have to talk about that," Nancy said, blushing.

"Did those idiots reject you?" Eddie asked. "Because I read the article that you wrote about me. . .thank you, by the way. . .it was totally metal. They'd be stupid to reject you."

"I agree," Nancy said, looking down at her food.

"I didn't know they rejected you, I thought you had gotten accepted," Steve said.

"Well, I did, but they sort of took it back," Nancy said.

"Hold on, did they - did they reject you because you helped me?" Eddie asked.

"No!" Nancy lied, and Eddie gave her a look. "Okay, yes, they did, but that makes them total assholes!"

"Goddamnit!" Eddie cursed, dropping his fork.

"Eddie, I don't regret helping you. As long as I live, I will never regret helping you or helping save this town. We saved the world, and maybe no one will ever know about that, but I'm okay with that. I would set my own career on fire if it meant saving you. . .this town. I risked it all to get justice for Barb and I'd do it again. I lost my job last summer to find the truth. There's nothing that I wouldn't do in order to do the right thing. Saving you was the right thing to do, Eddie Munson, and I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

"Nancy Wheeler, she cares about people," Steve said proudly.

"It's just. . .your dream," Eddie said.

"Emerson rejecting me isn't going to stop me from writing," Nancy said. "I can do anything and still write. Plus, I am putting in my applications to other places, and I know that one of them is going to accept me. When I do get accepted, I'll send Emerson a poloroid of the acceptance latter, a picture of my middle finger, and maybe a picture of my ass. One day, when I make it big, they're going to regret rejecting Nancy Wheeler."

"Well, damn," Eddie grinned. "That's definitely a plan."

"She always has one," Steve said.

"Quit trying to make me fall in love with you, Wheeler, you're taken," Eddie said and shoved spaghetti into his mouth. "You and Steve both. . .you're killing me."

Nancy and Steve smiled at each other as Eddie ducked his head as he ate. Ducking his head caused his hair to fall into the spaghetti. Steve rolled his eyes and pulled a scrunchie out of his pocket. He got up and pulled Eddie's hair up into a ponytail.

"Eddie!" Steve clucked his tongue, and Nancy laughed.

As Nancy waited to hear back from colleges, she kept busy. She wrote and sent papers out to other newspapers. She did end up getting a part-time job at Bradley's Big Buy, which was a good distraction as well. During all of that, she managed to keep up with Steve and Eddie. They were a handful now but also a wonderful distraction. Eddie was moving around even more now, and he could even take baths by himself. He can also walk down into the living room without any help. Robin was the first one out of lockdown. . .well, officially. She still went to work with Steve.

"When you said, you were spending time with both Nancy and Eddie, I didn't know you meant like this," Robin said after bursting into his living room.

Steve was sprawled out next to Nancy on the couch. Steve was shirtless and wearing sweats. Meanwhile, Nancy was wearing Steve's shirt and no pants. Her legs were draped over Eddie's shoulders as he sat on the floor and let her braid his hair while he massaged her feet. The television was blaring in front of them.

"What did you think that I meant, you knew I was taking care of Eddie? Did you think I'd keep them separated?" Steve asked.

"Your girlfriend has her bare legs wrapped around another guy's neck," Robin said.

"I noticed," Steve said.

"I've touched his dick, too," Nancy said and Eddie snorted. "Then again, so has Steve."

"Does that make you more or less confused?" Eddie asked.

"More," Robin said. "You know, I don't want to know. . .unless you'd rather just put me out of misery and tell me."

"We're friends, Robin," Nancy said, rolling her eyes. "I've been helping Steve nurse him back to health."

"You tend to get a little close when you give a grown man a bath," Steve said.

"Whatever, so, my parents finally freed me, and I'm pretty sure that it won't be long before the other parents start to cave," Robin said.

"I know, Dustin's been hounding me to visit. He really wants to," Steve said. "His mother finally ungrounded him."

"He's been calling like 24/7, not that I mind," Eddie said and grinned. "I'm already planning a campaign. . .it's going to be so fucking chaotic. It's going to be here, too, so Doug's just going to have to stow his shit."

"What's the problem with Doug?" Robin asked.

"He hates me because I'm a jock," Steve said. "He won't step foot in here."

"Well, Doug's going to get his ass kicked if he doesn't turn that shit around," Robin said. "Did he learn nothing? Don't hate people because of their interests! Hate them because they're assholes!"

"Ah, he'll come around, I did!" Eddie beamed, and he nuzzled Steve's knee with his cheek, looking up at him with his warm brown eyes.

"Hell, if Jonathan can come around then I believe in Doug," Steve said.

"If Doug could hear you right now. . .," Nancy said.

"He'd be a piece of melted butter like I am," Eddie sighed.

"Seriously, what's going on with you three?" Robin asked, and they just smiled.

The summer had been hotter than usual, and it seemed to last longer than last year. At least, it felt that way to Nancy. Maybe she was just eager to hear from the other colleges. Now that Eddie was able to drag himself outside, the trio spent a lot of time in the pool and a lot of time beside it. He seemed to be doing better with his nightmares, especially after talking with Nancy and Steve. Of course, that had to change when the worst storm of the summer hit Hawkins. Lightning flashed in the sky, and thunder shook the house while rain came pouring down outside. Eddie pouted, staring longingly at the pool, his nose pressed up against the glass door.

"The water is calling to me, Steve," Eddie pouted. "It knows that in order for me to be completely better, I need to swim. It's the sky that's against me."

"Yeah, the sky has it out for you," Steve scoffed. "Come on, we can sit down and watch television. Don't be so dramatic."

"You and Nancy love it when I'm dramatic," Eddie pointed out. "Ooh, I feel a rant coming on."

"Seriously! That's even better," Steve said and dragged him into the living room. "Nance! Forget about Magnum PI, Eddie feels a rant coming on!"

"Oh! I'll go make popcorn. Eddie, hold that thought!" Nancy exclaimed.

Nancy rushed back into the room with a bowl of popcorn and bottles of water tucked under her arm. She handed water to Steve and then curled up next to him. She waved at Eddie to start. They loved it when he ranted. It was one of their favorite past times. Lately, they've started coming up with topics to throw at him, but not tonight, Eddie actually had a topic in mind.

"Okay, so I was thinking about my mom the other day and how she left Tennessee because she fell in love with my dad. I mean, I think she would have stayed if her family hadn't been such complete assholes. How different would my life have been? I wouldn't be right here! They found out she had sex before marriage, and they kicked her out?! This is the same family who wanted her to get married so she could have sex and give them grand babies. So, she skipped the marriage part? What's the difference? Why does it fucking matter? It's because sex is disgusting, it's a tool to create more humans, and you shouldn't get any enjoyment out of it, especially women! According to them, anyway. Why the fuck shouldn't women enjoy sex if they wanted to, you know? It's fucking gross, let a woman have sex if she wants to and if she doesn't want to than that's great, too! It's like society wants women to have sex and also be ashamed of it, too! You know what? Fuck society! I just keep thinking about my mom. . .pregnant at 19 and looking at the only family she had. . .my father. Boy, she was disappointed. Women deserve to be treated like the queens that they are! Nothing should hold them back from doing whatever the fuck they wanted to!" Eddie yelled. "Or whoever the fuck they wanted to."

Nancy and Steve watched as he climbed onto the coffee table, continuing to rant.

"God, he's so sexy when he rants," Nancy whispered.

"Yeah, he is," Steve replied.

BOOM! A loud clap of thunder sounded from outside, startling Eddie right off the table and into their arms. The lights flickered for a moment, and they all held their breath before they went put completely. Eddie clung to Nancy, burying his face into her neck.

"Well, now, what?" Eddie asked.

"Strip poker," Nancy blurted out.

Steve and Eddie turned to look at her. They grinned. Nancy beamed. It had gotten Eddie to smile.

"If you wanted to see us naked, Wheeler, all you had to do was ask," Eddie said.

"Do you want to play or not?" Nancy asked.

"This was a terrible idea," Eddie said, a little later.

He threw down his cards and crossed his arms.

"Well, I don't know why you made the last thing you take off your socks," Steve said.

"My feet get cold, Steve," Eddie said.

Nancy, Steve, and Eddie were sitting around his kitchen table. Steve was completely naked. Eddie was only wearing his socks, and the only thing that Nancy had managed to lose was her shirt. She was pretty sure that Steve had lost on purpose. Nancy smirked and pooled her winnings.

"Oh. This is a great shirt, Eddie," Nancy said.

"That's my favorite Metallica shirt, Nance," Eddie whined. "Can I have it back?"

"Hm, I should try it on first before I decide," Nancy said thoughtfully.

She unhooked her bra and dropped it on the floor. She smirked when Eddie let out a loud yelp. She slipped on the shirt.

"I've decided," Eddie said, staring at her. "I like it better on you."

"You're evil, Nancy Wheeler," Steve laughed and she giggled.

"She definitely knows exactly what she's doing," Eddie said. "And I love it."

Suddenly, the lights flickered back on, and Eddie let out a holler. He rushed into the living room and started blasting Metallica.

"He forgot to put his clothes back on," Steve said.

"Did he forget or did he choose not to?" Nancy asked in amusement.

"I'm glad he's feeling better," he said.

"Me too."

While the storm had stopped for a while, it came back that night when they had all gone to bed. Nancy was spooning Steve as the storm raged on outside.

"I don't think I can get to sleep," Steve said.

"Me neither, want to have sex?" she asked.

Steve turned around in Nancy's arms and leaned in to kiss her when they heard a whimper from outside the door. They pulled away from each other.

"Eddie?" Nancy asked.

Eddie timidly peaked his head through the crack in the door, his hands over his eyes.

"We played strip poker earlier and he's covering his eyes," Steve said.

"It's for my benefit, I don't what to know what you do to each other. I wouldn't be able to get it out of my head," Eddie said.

"Well, we weren't having sex yet, so you're good," Steve said.

"Yet? Shit, I'll go," Eddie said, dropping his hand.

"No, Eddie, what's wrong?" Nancy asked.

"Well, I can't sleep, the lightning and the thunder are reminding me of the Upside Down and I . . . ," Eddie trailed off. "Can I sleep with you guys?"

Nancy smiled and looked at Steve, who nodded. Eddie crawled in between them, slipping underneath the covers. He laid on his back, staring up at the ceiling before turning over on his side and facing Nancy. She leaned on her elbow, looking at him. She stroked his cheek with her free hand.

"You want to tell us what else is bothering you?" Nancy asked.

Eddie sighed happily as Steve rubbed his back.

"No, I just want to stop thinking about it all for once," he said.

"You need a distraction?" Steve asked, his lips close to his ear.

"A really good one," he sighed.

Nancy leaned over Eddie and kissed him, her hair tickling his face. She felt Steve shift and attach his lips to Eddie's neck. Eddie gripped Nancy's waist, his hands slipping underneath the Metallica shirt that she was still wearing.

"Fuuuuck."

Things got even better after that, and suddenly, the three of them barely wanted to leave Steve's bedroom. Nancy really took control of the situation. There wasn't a single drop of shame in her entire body. . .there wasn't anything to feel guilty about. She loved every minute of it. She loved every touch, every kiss, and she loved being with both of them. She loved watching them together even more. What's even better was the cuddling naked afterward, and they let down more of their walls. . .it was all so intimate. The idea of being this intimate used to scare the shit out of Nancy, and it used to make her want to run away, and on several occasions, she did run away. She wasn't going to let fear stand in her way anymore.

"Did I ask you if I could host Hellfire here?" Eddie frowned.

He was sitting in between Steve's legs on the floor of the living room, his back against his chest as he scribbled in his notebook.

"No, you did not, but I don't mind," Steve said. "I plan on baking for it, anyway, I hope you don't mind."

"Are you going to make your brownies?" Eddie asked. "Please say yes, please say yes."

"Yeah, Eddie, I'm going to make my brownies," he laughed.

"Hell yeah!" Eddie said.

"I love seeing you so happy," Steve said.

He pressed a kiss to Eddie's cheek before ducking his head down and going for his neck. It was his favorite spot, Nancy noticed. She was sitting across from them, scribbling in her own notebook.

"I'm going to try my hardest to get off of work in time," Nancy said. "I don't want to miss a thing."

"Thanks, baby," Eddie grinned. "And Steve, I cannot finish with you doing that."

"Oh, am I doing it wrong?" Steve asked.

"You never do it wrong, but I need to finish this up for tomorrow," Eddie said. "And once I'm finished, you have my full attention, big boy."

"So, tomorrow? Are you ready for that? It'd be the first time the kids have seen you since you were on your deathbed," Nancy said.

"Oh, I'm ready, I'm just wondering if the kids are," Eddie said and rubbed the scar on his cheek.

Steve moved his head to the other side and kissed his scarred cheek.

"You're beautiful," Steve said. "And the kids love you. You're not going to scare them off."

"Fuck it," Eddie said, tossing his notebook aside.

He turned around in Steve's arms, kissing him.

"I can finish this article later," Nancy said and locked her eyes on them.

The next day, Nancy rushed into Steve’s house, peeling off her vest. She found Eddie watching Steve bake in the kitchen.

"It hasn't started yet?" Nancy asked.

"Nope, you're just in time, sweetheart," Eddie said.

"Good," Nancy said as Steve slid the brownies into the oven. "I have a surprise for you, Eddie."

"Ooh, I love surprises!" Eddie grinned.

Nancy moved back towards the front door.

"Alright! You guys can bring it in!" Nancy called out and then moved back to Eddie. "Dining room."

Eddie moved out of the kitchen with Steve and Nancy. Argyle and Jonathan came through the hallway carrying a chair.

"My throne!" Eddie exclaimed.

They followed them into the dining room, which was also the living room, and watched them set it up at the head of the table.

"They helped me break into the school to steal it," Nancy said.

"You broke into the school for me?" Eddie asked, clutching his chest.

"Well, not just for you, I think Nancy would find any excuse to break in anywhere," Steve joked.

"Our beautiful thief," Eddie beamed.

"Also. . .," Nancy said, ignoring them, and grabbed her bag.

"Ooh! More stuff!"

She pulled out a 2 liter of Mountain Dew and a silver goblet.

"I thought to grab the chair, but it was Steve who thought to bring you this," Nancy said. "We know that it's been a drag for you not to be able to leave the house just quite yet, so we wanted to do something to cheer you up."

"This is the most romantic thing that anyone's ever done for me," Eddie whispered.

He cupped Nancy's face and kissed her deeply before doing the same with Steve.

"Oh, wow, he really appreciated it," Jonathan said.

"Oh, man, I like you, Eddie, but I don't want you to kiss me," Argyle said. "I'm seeing someone."

"He's our boyfriend," Nancy laughed.

"Boyfriend?!" Eddie exclaimed. "You really want me to be your boyfriend?"

"Yeah, we were going to talk about it after the game," Steve said. "Now is a good time as any."

"This day keeps getting better and better," Eddie said, pulling them into a hug. "You won't regret this. . .well, only a little bit. . .okay, so, maybe a lot, but I'm going to make it worth it, I swear."

Eddie pulled away, his arms around the both of them.

"I'm glad you're happy, Nance," Jonathan said.

"Yeah, I'm very happy," Nancy said, scratching Eddie's stomach. "I'm glad you're happy, too."

"Yeah," Jonathan said, looking at Argyle.

"You guys staying for Hellfire?" Eddie asked. "The kids were wanting pizza, so Steve will be ordering that, but he also made his famous brownies."

"That sounds like fun," Jonathan said.

"One thing, though, can I make the pizza?" Argyle asked.

"You're going to want him to," Jonathan grinned.

"Hell yeah," Eddie grinned.

While Steve helped Argyle in the kitchen, Nancy and Jonathan helped Eddie set up in the dining room. It wasn't long before the kids showed up, driven by the parents. That had been the agreement to let them come over. The parents would drop them off and pick them up. They came rumbling into Steve’s house like a wild stampede.

"Hey! Slow down!" Steve yelled.

"Eddie!" Dustin, Mike, and Lucas yelled before barreling into him.

"Hey, you little shitheads, careful! He's not a 100% yet, I don't want you assholes undoing all of mine and Nancy's hard work," Steve said.

"Bless him, he's so protective," Eddie said. "And I'm fine."

"Nancy's been helping out?" Dustin asked.

"And she's been absolutely lovely," Eddie asked, giving her a one-armed hug and kissing her forehead. "Couldn't have gotten through this without her or Steve. Well, I suppose I could have but I wouldn't have wanted to."

"See? I told you he was awesome," Mike said.

"I never doubted you, Michael," Nancy replied, rolling her eyes.

"Don't call me Michael, Nancy Eloise!" Mike replied.

"Don't call me Nancy Eloise, Michael!" She yelled.

"Delightful," Eddie grinned.

A few minutes later, Jeff, Gareth, and Doug showed up. Although Doug looked like he wanted to be anywhere else. When Steve asked Gareth about his arm, Doug let out a snort of derision. Gareth elbowed him in the stomach.

"Yeah, Doug hasn't really forgiven me for siding with Jason," Lucas told Nancy.

"Yeah, but you came to your senses and helped Eddie," Nancy frowned.

"It doesn't matter to him," Lucas said sadly.

"I'll be keeping an eye on him. Don't worry about him. You apologized and made up for it. If he can't accept it, that's on him," Nancy said, squeezing his shoulders. "You have a good heart, Lucas."

"Thanks, Nance," Lucas said and snorted. "I told Max, and she's threatened to run Doug over with her wheelchair."

"How is that going?" Nancy asked.

"Good, better than ever. Her mom is doing better, too. Right now, her mom and El are helping her with her physical therapy," Lucas said and paused. "Hold on, do I smell Steve’s brownies?"

"Yes," she giggled.

"Hell yeah!"

Robin and Vickie, who also drove Robin here, were the last ones to arrive. Finally, the party could start. The feast was first, with Eddie at the head of the table. Nancy sat to his right, and Steve sat to his left. Doug, of course, sat as far away from Steve and Lucas as possible. When it came time to partake of Steve's brownies, Doug turned his nose up at it.

"I wouldn't be surprised if he poisoned it," Doug said. "All the nerds are here. It would be the perfect opportunity."

He closed his mouth and took the brownie when no one laughed at his poor 'joke.' Nancy and Eddie narrowed their eyes at Doug. That was his first strike. They all decided to enjoy their brownies and hoped that Doug wouldn't put his foot in his mouth again. It seemed to be going well. They cleared the table after desert and set up the game for the people who were playing. The ones who weren't playing walked across the room to the living area. It was a huge open concept with the living room on the other side. They easily turned the couch around to face the dining table so they could see and hear everything that was going on. Steve collapsed on the couch with Nancy.

"Oh, is Steve Harrington too good to play with us or just too stupid to handle the math?" Doug said.

Nancy and Eddie glared at him again. She could feel Steve tense underneath her and she could have sworn she heard Robin growl beside her. Strike two.

"Hey!" Eddie snapped. "I don't want to hear that kind of shit from you again, Douglas."

"What the fuck is your problem, anyway?" Jeff asked. "You know that math isn't my strong suit, either."

"Sorry, man," Doug muttered. "I told you guys that I didn't want to be here. I'm only doing this because I didn't get to visit Eddie."

"Then fucking leave, man, I don't want someone around who doesn't really want to be here," Eddie growled. "And you not coming to see me is your own doing."

"I haven't played with you guys in a while, so I'm going to play," Doug said.

"Well, how about you be a little nicer to the guy who's invited you into his home?" Eddie asked.

"Fine," Doug said.

"Good."

"If it bothers him so much, I can go upstairs," Steve muttered.

"This is your home, Steve. If he says shit again, we're kicking him out," Nancy said. "He needs a reality check."

She leaned further into him, throwing her legs over his and kissing him. She stroked the back of his neck, running her fingers gently through his hair. They smiled as they watched Eddie switch into the role of dungeon master.

"He's just as sexy when he dms," Steve said, and Nancy hummed in agreement.

It was almost smooth sailing, and Eddie was an absoute rockstar with the way he weaved the story. Honestly, Nancy and Steve couldn't wait until Eddie started to play with Corroded Coffin again. It was nice to see Mike, Dustin, Will, and Lucas play together again. It was nice to see Will get to know Eddie as a dungeon master. Of course, it was going great until Eddie introduced a character that sounded a lot like Steve. Doug snapped.

"Oh, come on, did Harrington brainwash you?" Doug asked.

"Douglas!" Eddie shrieked.

"No, seriously? What is everyone's deal with suddenly being okay with Harrington and being okay with Sinclair, who betrayed us? Why is everyone okay with hanging around with someone like him who hurt us?" Doug asked. "Did everyone forget about what they did to us? What they did to Gareth?"

"I certainly didn't, asshole, and I'm more than okay with them," Gareth scowled. "Because they're not the assholes who hurt us."

"Come on, Eddie, you used to make fun of jocks and everyone else who hated us," Doug said.

She was about to intervene when Eddie slammed his hands on the table and stood up.

"Because not every hates us, we make the assumption that everyone does because a few people do! Yeah, I used to think like that, but I grew out of it. . .I realized that Steve Harrington was different from all those other meatheads who couldn't shake the fact that we're different, so that must mean we're wrong. Steve saved my life. He brought me into his home when he didn't have to, and he nursed me back to health along with Nancy Wheeler. They sacrificed so much for me even when I didn't deserve it. I was such an idiot, I screwed up the plan, but Steve picked me up and carried me all the way to the hospital. Nancy sacrificed her career to find the truth for me, for her friend, and for everyone in this goddamn town. I'm not brainwashed! I'm in love!" Eddie shrieked.

While everyone was all distracted, Robin got up and walked around the table, right behind Doug. She pulled the picture frame off the wall and went to raise it over Doug's head, Doug none the wiser. Vickie quickly ran to her girlfriend and took the frame away from her, putting it back on the wall. Robin pouted as she guided her back to her seat.

"What?" Doug asked.

"I am madly, deeply in love with Steve Harrington and Nancy Wheeler. I wouldn't be here today if it weren't for them. You're just like all the assholes who make the assumptions that because we listen to heavy metal, we're satantists! I won't have you talk shit about Steve anymore! I'm crazy about him, about Nancy, and I would do anything for them. I would bear their children if they fucking wanted me too!" Eddie yelled.

"Uh, Eddie, you're a man, you can't get pregnant," Dustin timidly pointed out.

"Don't rain on my parade, Henderson!" Eddie shrieked. "Listen, Doug, I think it's time for you to leave."

"What about the game?" He asked.

"I'll decide whether to let you back into Hellfire and Corroded Coffin when you decide to let go of your disgusting views," Eddie sneered. "We can keep playing without you."

"Fine," he muttered, and he pushed his chair back.

"And you know what's the worst thing about all of this?" Eddie asked Doug. "While you had no faith in Steve, Steve had all the faith in you that you'd come around."

Doug's face softened as he looked guilty. He sighed sadly before walking out of the house. Eddie sighed and sat back in his chair. Steve moved over to him.

"Are you okay?" Steve asked.

"Am I okay? Are you okay, sweetheart?" Eddie asked.

"Oh, more than okay, no one's ever defended my honor before," Steve said, blushing.

"You deserve it," Eddie said and pulled Steve into his lap.

"So, all three of you?" Dustin asked.

"Yeah," Eddie said.

"Cool!" Dustin beamed and everyone else muttered their agreements.

"So," Nancy said, leaning on his shoulder. "You're in love with us, huh?"

"Yeah," Eddie grinned.

Nancy looked at Eddie then to Steve, who smiled at her, his hazel eyes twinkling.

"We're in love with you, too," Nancy said.

Eddie kissed Nancy before doing the same with Steve.

"Are we going to ignore the fact that Eddie wants them to get him pregnant?" Mike asked.

"Well, it's not like we haven't tried," Nancy smirked.

"Ugh, GROSS, Nancy," Mike scowled. "We just ate."

"Ignore him," Nancy said. "I'm sorry about Doug, Eddie."

"I still think he'll come around," Steve said.

"Well, if Steve has faith in Douglas, then I do, too," Eddie grinned.

"I know what will cheer you up," Nancy smiled. "I got into college."

"Holy shit! Why the fuck didn't you lead with that earlier?" Eddie asked. "That's great!"

"It really is," Steve agreed.

"It's a lot further than I had hoped, but it's a good school with a good journalism program," Nancy said.

"We'll make it work," Steve said. "You deserve this."

"Hell yeah," Eddie said. "You worked your ass off for this, and you never gave up. You more than earned this. We won't give up either."

"I love you," Nancy said and kissed them both.

"Alright, anymore drama?" Dustin asked. "Or are we going to play?"

Eddie scowled and threw a piece of paper at him. He patted Steve’s ass.

"All right, let's play," Eddie said.

"You can't dm with Steve in your lap, Eddie," Mike said.

"I've done a lot of things with Steve in my lap. You have no idea what I'm capable of, Michael," Eddie said.

"Don't call me Michael! And GROSS!"

Nancy laughed as she sat back on the couch with Robin and Vickie. She watched her beautiful men, her eyes twinkling with joy. The three of them still had a lot of healing to do, but Nancy knew they'd get there together.

[thestraggletag]

Kin, Part 1 of 3

Prompt: Dragon, Transform, Capture, Marriage, Nest

Giftee: @minnl70

Summary: Chosen by the Blue Fairy to slay the last dragon, Belle defies her fate and strikes a deal with the beast, Rumplestiltskin. As they search for a way to break the enchantment, an unexpected bond begins to form, but magic is never without a price—and never quite straightforward.

Rating: M

A/N: Surprise, @minnl70, it's me, your Secret Santa! I'm away on holidays right now but I made sure to properly queue this up for you. If all goes well all chapters of this fic will be posted today, but I'll try to check to make sure they are (and, if possible, also upload the fic to AO3, which I know makes it easier to read). Enjoy and Happy Holidays!

Belle had forgotten what it was like to live without the ever-present threat of ogres. What it was like to not be a prisoner in the fortified castle that was keeping her people alive and protected. What it felt like to not have fear coat the back of her throat. She should be glad that, finally, a fairy had consented to come to their aid. And not just any fairy, but the Blue Fairy, rumoured to be the most powerful of them all. And yet the Lady of the Marchlands felt more uneasy in front of the tiny creature that she had felt in the midst of an ogre attack. There was something about her, something in her demeanour and her syrupy voice that unnerved her.

Maybe it was that she was just now answering their summons. Why not before, when the problem of ogres was easier to fix? Before the bloodshed and the loss of territory? Before the death of her mother? When she had tried to ask that, the fairy had dismissed her concerns, explaining that she could only “just now” be of assistance, without any further elaboration. To Belle the only difference between then and now was the increased desperation, and she couldn’t help but think that this is why the Blue Fairy had waited. For them to be desperate enough to agree to anything, and pay any price.

“The solution to your problem is very simple, though it lies beyond my abilities alone. You need a dragon. Unfortunately, there’s only one left.”

Everyone knew that. Just as everyone knew that, in a distant past, dragons had been uncommon, but not rare, creatures. Nowadays there was only one left, known popularly as the “Dark One”, a being of immense power and magic, that was unlikely to come to their aid.

“Dragons are hard to command, but I can bind its essence to a mortal and subjugate it.” The Blue Fairy spoke of slaving a magical creature as if she was commenting on the weather, or what colour would be in fashion next season. “But it cannot be just any mortal we choose. It must be a maiden, beautiful of body and mind, with blue blood. Someone important.”

It didn’t take a smart person to decipher what the fae meant, and if anyone had any doubts the way her father fiercely opposed the notion would make it very clear. Belle shrunk back in the shadows, uncomfortable with the way the fairy looked at her when she spoke about the binding. There was a greed behind her eyes that felt all too human as she raised her wand without warning and swished it around in her direction, letting fairy dust  float over to her, seeming to take her consent and cooperation for granted.

“It is the only way, sire.”

“To Hell with it. To hell with you. There is no way my little girl is getting anywhere near a dragon.”

In the end, in spite of the protest of all his advisors, Lord Maurice had sent the Blue Fairy away, though she had promised to return in a month’s time, so that the Lord had “enough time to come to his senses”. There was no defeat in her person, only that self-assured, condescending look that told her that she thought she knew the outcome of things already.

Ordinarily, Belle would have felt uncomfortable at the notion that her father would prize her safety above the safety of her people, but she was glad that he sent the Blue Fairy away. Once she was gone Belle was free to go to their library, or what remained of it, and do her own research about what Reul Ghorm had claimed. The books did all seem to point towards a dragon as the most likely solution to her problem. Ogres feared to tread on land claimed by a dragon. It was why ogres incursions had become much more common than a thousand years ago, and why the ogre population had expanded to such a degree. If their land was guarded by a dragon they would be safe not just from this horde, but from any other that appeared in the future. It seemed that the Blue Fairy had not been lying about that, but it didn’t necessarily mean Belle could trust her. There was something else, a reason why the fairy would suddenly seek to help them after years of fighting ogres. Something she hoped to gain for herself that Belle had no intention of giving her. Her unfinished spell had settled on her like a mark on her, a patch of skin on her left shoulder blade, where Blue had rested her wand before her father had stopped her, that seemed to burn whenever she thought about the fairy, as if in warning. 

She kept on investigating, sure that there would be another way of dealing with the Dark One that did not involve forcing him into bondage. She delved deeper, going to the most obscure section of the library, which had blessedly been preserved from the ogre attack that had killed her mother. The scant few ancient tomes they had were housed there, books so archaic they were written in obscure languages almost no one spoke anymore. Languages Belle had mastered the reading of years ago, in secret, after being told those books were forbidden to her. 

It wasn’t until she was halfway through a heavily water-damaged book that she learned the truth. There was a reason why dragons whisking away princesses was a cliche present in most stories told to children. It was because the fairies had been using maidens for what looked like centuries to kill dragons. The book detailed only one such case, which she would’ve dismissed if she hadn’t almost experienced something identical. According to the book dragons were bound to maidens not so they could be tamed, like it had been promised, but so that they would be made vulnerable. The maiden was whisked away and killed by the creature, and later on a knight or a prince, seeking to avenge the woman would- with the help of the fairies, and some prodding along the way- slay the beast and become a dragon-slayer.

It didn’t take Belle long to envision who the fairies had had in mind for that role. She was, after all, betrothed to a hunter. Gaston was a nobleman in the most lax sense of the word, for there was nothing noble in his behaviour or his thoughts. Violent and bloodthirsty, Belle had no doubt he would be more eager to add the title of dragonslayer to the ones he already possessed than to avenge her.

The ogres were an excuse. A means to an end. A way to have a small kingdom become so desperate that their king would be willing to risk one of his daughters. Her papa’s overprotectiveness, his fierce love for her, was the one thing the fairy had not counted on. She had hoped the ogres would be enough of a bargaining chip to get her father to agree.

Belle didn’t find the prospect of dying very appealing, nor the idea of causing the death of the last dragon, and helping the Blue Fairy achieve whatever she was hoping to achieve with the extermination of the Dark One. So, instead, she pivoted on her search, looking for ways to summon dragons. They had a reputation as dealmakers, creatures interested in bargaining to get what they wanted. Surely she could make a deal so that the dragon would protect her people and drive the ogres away. This way she would be in control of her destiny, and serve no other purpose than her own. 

She did the summoning just as the sun set a fortnight after the Blue Fairy had been driven away. She forced herself to act nonchalant as she told her father she planned to take one of the horses and scour a nearby meadow for medicinal herbs they were in desperate need of, kissing his cheek lightly when all she wanted was to throw herself into his arms and have her father hug her so tight he’d lift her off the floor like when she was a child. She made herself pack lightly, lest she arouse suspicion. Some spare undergarments, a little medicine, her favourite book, ink and paper in case there was ever an opportunity to write to her father. She had already done so, leaving a detailed letter in her room that would explain everything to him, along with the books she had consulted and a translated copy of the important passages. She wanted him to understand, if nothing else. And she promised to come back if she could.

With that she took Philippe, her oldest and most reliable horse, and took off into a clearing in the woods she hoped would be private enough, the trees so old they were amongst the tallest in the Enchanted Forest. There all she had to do was say the name of the dragon- it’s real name, written and almost entirely crossed out a number of times in her book- three times.

“Rumplestiltskin, Rumplestiltskin, Rumplestiltskin!”

Nothing happened, for the longest time, to the point where Belle began to despair of having to summon the Blue Fairy after all, when something moved in the darkness beyond the clearing. A pair of dark gold eyes appeared, followed by the glint of golden scales as the dragon stepped into the bit of sun the trees around her couldn’t cover. It was a huge creature, but smaller than what she had envisioned, with green-gold scales covering his belly and dark ochre ones on the rest of its body. It walked on four legs with the grace of a cat, and its eyes spoke of intelligence beyond that of any animal. And not just intelligence, but craftiness. 

“Well, well, what do we have here?”

Even though she had assumed the dragon would be able to communicate somehow, it still surprised her when it spoke in a low, sibilant voice.

“My name is Belle and I’m-”

“Oh, I know who you are, dearie. Which begs the question… What’s the beautiful maiden doing, alone in the woods with the scary dragon?”

“I know I have nothing to be afraid of. I’ve read about it, about where all the stories about abducted princesses and slayed dragons come from.” She paused when she saw the slightest change in the dragon’s expression, from faintly-mocking to suspicious. She was surprised at how expressive it could be, given the scales and the sharp angles of its face. “Can you feel it?”

“Feel what?”

“The Blue Fairy’s magic on me.”

Its frown- his frown really- deepened, and he moved his long neck to get his nose closer to her, taking in a deep breath before huffing out a puff of smoke, as if it had scented something foul. Before it could be angry at her she rushed to explain that she was not in any rush to rid the world of its last dragon. She told him the entire story, about her people’s desperation and how, finally, the Blue Fairy had come to offer her help. What she had told them about dragons and how she had managed to start her spell before her father had thrown her out of the castle, and what she had uncovered afterwards.

“So, instead of dealing with one duplicitous magical creature, you decided to turn to a far more dangerous one for help? Why would I even help you, dearie? I could just pluck you from here and put you atop a tall tower with no doors and be rid of you as a problem.”

“And I could leap from the tower. Or starve myself. And then you’d be mortal.”

The dragon stood very still, looking at her more intently, only his tail swishing back and forth, which she took to mean he was displeased. Or perhaps curious. She had the feeling he was very much used to getting his way, and hadn’t counted on her having thought things through. She couldn’t tell whether that gave her an advantage or simply served to make him angry.

“But I won’t. I won’t do any of those things. I will come willingly, if you get rid of the ogres in my land. It’ll give you time to figure out how to undo Reul Ghorm’s magic. And then we can part ways in peace.”

The dragon seemed to study her for the longest time, eyes slightly narrowed and strangely still, looking more like a gleaming statue than a live creature. Then, after what felt like an eternity, it unfurled its wings to pounce on her, talons catching on the edges of her cloak.

“Deal’s struck, dearie!”

There was a cloud of burgundy magic, smelling of burnt wood and sage instead of the Blue Fairy’s cloying flower smell, and when she could see again she was in what looked like a castle.

“Is this where you live?”

Belle wasn’t sure what she had pictured, but it wasn’t the run-down opulence of her surroundings.

“Disappointed it’s not a cave? Or a mountain made of bones?”

She shook her head, even though she had pictured something more akin to a cave. The castle was dark, barely lit by a few pitiful, sputtering torches on the walls, and the faint light coming from a series of tall but hopelessly-dirty windows. It smelt damp but also of burnt wood, and a layer of ashes seemed to cover everything. She could feel the chill in the air and knew, without seeing, that it was snowing outside. They were likely atop a mountain, given the thinness of the air.

“Come along, dearie, I’ll show you where you can sleep and be out of the way.”

The sheer size of the castle allowed the dragon room to move, though it was a tight fit in narrow corridors and down winding stairs, not checking to see whether she was following him or even if she could, given what little light there remained as they went deeper down into the bowels of the castle. They finally came to what looked like-

“A dungeon? You want me to sleep in a dungeon?”

The dragon turned away, uninterested in whether she agreed or not.

“You can do as you please, dearie. This is the cleanest and warmest place you’ll find to sleep tonight.”

Sleep was not exactly something Belle saw a lot of that night, curled up over a pile of musty straw, her cloak wrapped tightly around her as she let herself cry, thinking about her father, who had likely already discovered what she had done, thinking of her room, which still smelt like the lavender packets her more insisted they make every year, and everything of hers she had left behind.

The crying must have eventually exhausted her, because she woke up the next morning to less darkness than before. There was a small sliver of a window up high from which some pale morning light seemed to enter. With it she could see the mouse holes, the gossamer spider webs in the corners and the patches of mold in the bits of hay she had discarded the night before by their smell. There was, also, an old oil lamp, the handle rusted over but with a bit of oil still inside. She lit it using one of the torches outside and decided to go exploring, deciding that at least she needed to identify a source of freshwater, and hopefully a place with food.

The castle was less intimidating in the light of day. It gave off an air of fargone opulence, of wealth and power having fallen into disrepair and neglect. She went from room to room, trying to come across anything that resembled a kitchen. Instead she found herself in a bit, opulent room, with faded but once-rich tapestries and thick rugs on the floor. It felt warmer than anyone else, inviting her inside, till something made her stand still.

There was someone else in the room. She didn’t know how she could tell, a feeling in her bones she had never had before, but she was absolutely sure. She held out the lantern in front of her, as far as her arm could reach, and waited for her eyes to adjust. At first she saw nothing, just the expected darkness. But as her eyes adjusted to it she began to notice a faint shape. Thin and scraggly, barely taller than her, and full of sharp angles. Decidedly non-human, but unlike any creature she’d ever seen.

“Who are you?”

The thing seemed to vibrate with excitement at her question, large, golden eyes focusing on her. Belle rather thought she felt like a rabbit ought, when spotted by a wolf. Every nerve-ending was tingling, age-old instincts telling her to turn and run. To escape. But she knew those eyes, as impossible as it seemed.

“I think you know, dearie.”

His voice was heavily accented, and higher than what one would expect from a human male. It had a sing-songy quality to it, a mocking sort of undertone that was difficult to ignore. It was a silly voice meant to contrast with the dangerous nature of the speaker, but still carried a faint sibilant trace she recognised.

“You’re the Dark One.”

The figure in the shadows moved until it was partially in the light. She saw then that her initial impression was right: a thin, unnatural figure dressed in ripped leathers and hide, with green-gold, scaly skin, golden eyes and matted long hair. Sharp teeth too, from what she could see. Much like his dragon form in many ways, but different at the same time. Less unreadable, perhaps, now that she could better understand his mannerisms.

“Dragons are natural shapeshifters, and as large as this castle is it can be quite uncomfortable to navigate in my other form. This is as much the real me as the creature you met yesterday. And an infinitely more convenient form to read books in. Easier to turn the pages, and less likelihood of burning some priceless tome to a crisp.”

The dragon seemed just as dangerous in his smaller form as he did in his big one, the taint of dark magic hanging around him like a cloak, so potent even someone with no magic like her could feel it. Still, they had an agreement, and everything she had read about the Dark One said he never reneged on deals.

“Is there anything you need in particular, dearie? Can’t think of any reason why you wouldn’t be avoiding me like mice avoid cats.”

The way he smiled at her at that, showing his teeth as if to remind her that he was predator and she prey. Belle took a deep breath, bringing the lantern closer to her so the light would bolster up her courage.

“I need to know the way to the kitchens. You don’t want me to starve any more than I do, so it’d be helpful if I could know where the food and the water are.”

He flicked a clawed finger, a tiny wisp flame forming in the air. It was a strange, almost green colour and danced around, as if eager.

“Follow the little wisp, it’ll guide you to the kitchens. You can take whatever you want from there, if it’ll keep you from bothering me.”

With another flick of his wrist the flame was off, scurrying quickly out of the room and leaving a faint green-gold trace in its wake that Belle barely managed to catch. It seemed to weave in and out of hallways for what felt like forever, but finally it led her the right way, towards a filthy, but very spacious, kitchen. Cobwebs, dirt and grime covered almost every surface area she could see, and the amount of space highlighted how barren the room was. Some fishing around uncovered a barrel of questionable apples and some hard bread, but nothing more. There was a well just outside, sheltered from the wind by the castle walls, which was difficult but not impossible to operate. 

She understood then the glee the creature showed when she mentioned wanting something to it. The dragon clearly disliked her and her presence there, and she couldn’t exactly blame him, when maidens had been used for hundreds of years to decimate dragons. She couldn’t fathom what it would be like, to be the last human. To have no kin. To live alone.

Her situation was not so dire in comparison, and she told herself that as she gathered up her hair and munched on the least sour apple she could find. She could make the best of a bad situation. The castle might be a bit rundown, but it was spacious and beautiful, full of interesting nooks to explore. This was an adventure, if she was only brave enough to take it on.

[wilderness-of-thoughts]

Before:

"kill me..." Gojo was now moaning in his pink pajamas on the fluffy pillow you had prepared for him on the couch. Good thing most of the doll clothes fit him.

"With great pleasure. So, hemlock, arsenic, or maybe we should go classic and I'll slit your throat?" You asked, searching the cupboard for something that would serve as a blanket.

"Yhhhhh y/n! This day is the worst! I'm little and I had to bathe in a pot! And now I'm wearing half-plastic Barbie pajamas. I'm suffering here! Hey! Look how bad I feel!" he had been complaining for some time now. You looked at him, lying on your biggest, favorite pillow, fresh, clean, maybe not yet full but you'll fix that in the morning. Drama Queen is not enough. Gojo is the Emperor of Dramas.

"Yes, yes, you have it the worst. Right. My poor little Satoru Gojo. Be glad that I am the only one to witness your despair." saying this you put a piece of cloth on him so that he could cover himself with something at night.

Your eyes were closing by themselves, so with the last of your strength you started to walk towards your bedroom. After a short "good night" - to which you received no answer - you went to sleep, tapping your face against your beloved teddy bear. Maybe it was childish, but you lived alone and you didn't have to explain your strangeness to anyone.

Gojo couldn't sleep at that time. Insomnia was one of the silent curses that even the Chosen One suffered from. He knew there was no point in complaining since no one was listening to him, he wasn't able to go to the temple himself. Well, he was able to, but he doubted he would find anything new there. So he had to wait for you. Condemned to the functioning of your body. He even thought you weren't taking it seriously, but he knew that it's not true.

And it's not like he didn't appreciate it. But no one ever taught him to thank you for anything. Especially since part of your job was to serve him.... I mean, help him. It's like thanking a store clerk for being so kind as to stand behind the cash register. That was his reasoning. Why should he thank you for doing what is your duty?

Insomnia.

Campaigning in the tap was hellish torture. The rustle of curtains moved by a slight draft aroused in him the desire to kill. At his apartament he had a blindfold and earplugs and lavender oils, and at a critical moment even sleeping pills. Sleep for the Strongest is a luxury.

You were already snoring.

Another incentive to go on a killing spree.

You snored.

Insomnia.

Drip drip.

You snored.

Drip drip.

You snored.

Drip drip.

FUCK!

Not even half an hour of this torture had passed and Satoru had enough. He was tossing and turning on his pillow, cursing the universe under his breath for existing. After another few hours, which in reality were minutes, he stood up with a bang and sighed loudly through his nose. He had enough.

He didn't know what to do, but he knew he had enough.

You were woken from your sleep by a quiet murmur, then a bang, and then another murmur. You frowned, slowly lifting your eyelids. You were still sleepy.

"mmmyh-oru? What are you doing?" You asked, barely conscious as you saw the small figure of your superior standing on your bed. Only his eyes stared at you with intensity.

"Nothing. I can't sleep." He replied dryly, like a robot. You yawned and smiled slightly. Sighing heavily, you leaned out to grab a small speaker from the desk.

"I listen to this when I can't sleep" you said turning on speaker. You put the speaker above your head and fell face down on the pillow already returning to the arms of Morpheus. Gojo watched in surprise and waited until someone's low, soft voice, masculine, velvety and clear, came from the speaker. It wasn't an audiobook or a song. It was an asmr affirmation. The voice spoke only praise. How brave you are, how great you are at handling everything, how proud he is of you. The voice said that it knew how hard it was for you and that it admired you for still managing.

Gojo wanted to laugh. A sour laugh twisted his lips and his eyes of contempt landed on you. You're so weak that you're lulled to sleep by praise from a random guy who doesn't really know what you're going through, doesn't know you, and talks nonsense. And yet, his eyes were not deceiving. He looked at you smiling wonderfully sweetly, as a light blush appeared on your cheeks, and your facial expression calmed down. You sighed quietly in your sleep.

Gojo didn't understand. He turned off the speaker and threw it off the bed. He still couldn't sleep and the new discovery about you only made the blood in his veins sicker. Maybe he was wrong to call you? Why did You need to listen to this random anyway. Gojo's voice was much nicer. If you asked him, he would record something like this for you. A lullaby for you. And then he understood. He wouldn't do that if he found out he'd probably laugh at you for months. And Gojo sat on your bed, staring at you intensely, no trace of contempt in his gaze. He watched you with consternation. Why did he want to record something like that for you? Why did he feel sad and... Angry when he realized he wouldn't do it? Why do you even need it to sleep? Why is he thinking about this?

He pinched his cheek. He's going crazy. Still, he didn't get off your bed. He involuntarily curled up next to your pillow, he could smell your shampoo, your quiet snoring no longer annoyed him. It calmed him down. And before he knew it, he fell asleep. It turned out that his lullaby was the sound of your breathing that he focused on.

Morning came too soon, but Gojo hadn't slept this long in a long time. When he got up, you weren't in bed anymore.

"Gojo! Did you destroy my Tap!?" Oh... Fuck.

[tojisbbygworl]

Just For The Night - Hobie Brown x Black!Punk!Reader pt. 1

Summary: Two anarchists meet at a concert and decide that one night just isn't enough...but one night is all they have.

Characters: Mentioned - Gwen, Pavtir, Miguel. Featured - Miles, Hobie

Words: 3,694

Tags: 18+, 3rd person, Mutual Pining, Suggestive Content (Smut in part 2), Hobie is Whipped, Aged-Up Characters (Miles/Gwen is 17), Reader and Hobie are 21+, Mention of Marijuana, Canon Divergence (Doesn't follow ATSV events/Miles is not an anomaly/Hobie's universe is present day instead of 1978), Hobie and Miles are like brothers, I tried my best with the British slang

author's note: The Hobie brainrot is real. I wasn't planning on writing for ATSV at all, but some of the fanfictions just weren't scratching the itch and you have to be the change you want to see in the world and all that other shit. I don't think that Miles would listen to Rico Nasty, but I definitely think Hobie would. I had to write something putting the two together like it just makes SENSE TO ME!

You don’t have to listen to the music at all I’m not even sure if I want to keep it in there. Anyway, here's the story. More notes abt me at the end.

AO3 version part 2 epilogue

"You tryna' go to this concert with me?"

Hobie stopped playing with his guitar pick to look Miles in the eyes. The day was over, for them at least. Miguel was satisfied with their work and they didn't have to deal with him until it was time to be called back into action. Gwen had already gone back home, something about her band, and Pav wasn't on the schedule for today. It was one of the only times where Miles and Hobie could really work as partners and they cherished it.

Miles was especially glad to have Hobie all to himself, as he felt this question would be a bit more awkward around the others. He waited until they were grabbing something to eat in the food court so he was sure anyone who would overhear his question couldn't. He had always been a fan of this artist, but never really embraced it in fear of embarrassment or rejection.

"Who's playin'?" Hobie asked him, already knowing he was going to say yes no matter what Miles said. He saw him as a little brother, and he was happy that he wanted to spend time together outside of work.

"Her name is Rico Nasty." Hobie raised a brow. Either this artist is only popular in America, or he didn't have her in his own universe. He had never heard of her before.

"Oh? Who's that?" Miles lit up like a fire, excited to show Hobie something new. He hoped to whoever was listening that he would enjoy her.

To say that seeing Hobie begin to head bop with his headphones in filled Miles with joy was an understatement. As the song continued, He began making a stank face and looked at him. He was enjoying himself, clearly, and Miles knew he had him hooked.

When the song ended, Hobie took out his headphones and gave Miles his phone back. "Yeah, I'll go with you."

Miles throws a small celebration. He pumps his fist and says "Yes!" dancing for a second before stopping and clearing his throat. He turns back around to see Hobie looking at him amused.

"Am I the only one going?" He asks him, biting into a burger.

Miles sits back down across him and sighs. He looks down at the table. "Yeah," he says, dejected. Hobie gives him a worried look, which Miles is quick to dismiss. "Oh, no! It's nothing bad. I just...I don't really know anyone else who would come with me and it seemed like music you would like..." He trails off for a minute. Hobie urges him on by gesturing his hand. "And I kind of wanted an actual adult with me because I'm really nervous and kind of scared and I needed someone I could trust completely. You fit all the criteria."

Hearing that made Hobie insanely happy. He gives Miles a sideways smile. "That warms me up inside, you know that?"

Miles lets out a small, breathy, laugh. "Yeah, yeah."

"So," Hobie wipes his hands with each other and takes a sip of his drink. "What's the scene gonna be like?"

"Well...you, really. Your whole aesthetic."

Hobie raises a brow. "Oh yeah?"

~

As a connoisseur of moshing, in Hobie's opinion, the venue was perfect. Big enough to fit scores of people, too small to have any personal space.

It was completely painted black with a black floor as well. Purple, green, and red stage lights shone over the thickening crowd. It was already so hot, a stark contrast from the chilly Brooklyn night air.

That day, Miles had visited Hobie's apartment to get dressed. Hobie gave him loads of clothes and accessories to choose from. Miles, unfortunately, had no sense of style, and everything he chose clashed with each other. Hobie had to completely dress him from head to toe. "You look like a proper rebel without a cause," Hobie had told him, which Miles took as a good thing.

Miles took one look at the bartending stand, gave Hobie a stupid smile, and as funny as it was, he shot him down immediately. "Uh-Uh. 'low it."

It was 7:30. The concert didn't officially start for another 30 minutes, and Rico wasn't going to come out for an hour after that. Miles was taking everything in. He had a look of wonder in his eyes. Hobie found it amusing. Him and Miles have been friends for some time now, but he’s never seen him this relaxed.

“You didn’t think about bringing Gwendy here?” Hobie asked him. Gwen should see this part of her boo thing. (They still haven’t made anything official).

Miles hisses and scratches the back of his head. “Eh…nah man. I’m still nervous about showing this side of me to people. You’re the only person I’m confident enough to show it off to.”

Miles’s sweet words brought a genuine smile to Hobie’s face, and he smiled back. Hobie wrapped his arm around him and rubbed his head. They continue talking as the venue fills more and more and people gather behind him. Soon, it’s hard to move around and the two boys finally notice how packed the floor has become. Miles begins to look a little nervous, but looks up at how chill Hobie is and adjusts himself accordingly.

When he’s done trying to look cool he taps Hobie on his arm. The man looks down at him in curiosity. “Hey, so…what’s your situation?”

“What do you mean?”

Miles makes a fist and punches his palm. “I mean, do you got a girl, bro?”

Hobie scoffs and laughs at his question. “Nah, man. My Gwen Stacy is a capitalist pig. And I don’t know a Mary Jane.”

“Maybe you can have the Gwen from my universe.” Mike’s jokes. Hobie laughs and punches his arm.

“Sorry mate, but if she’s anything like others, I don’t want her." He gets a far off look in his face, and Miles's grin straightens out. "It’s like in every universe, she’s a "good" girl.” Hobie explains his thought process. Miles is greatly interested in what he has to say. Hobie looks up and speaks as if this is something he’s put a lot of thought into. “My person needs to have my ideals. I want her to be loud and obnoxiously motivated. Like me.” He says the last part with a grin. Miles shook his head.

“So you want an anarchist?”

Hobie shrugs. “If she’s not a felon she’s not for me.” They laugh with each other until the opening DJ comes out. It was 8:00 and the concert was starting. He played some popular mainstream music that Hobie wouldn’t otherwise listen to. But Miles had started rapping 21 Savage with some other teenagers around him and he couldn’t help but enjoy it.

Hobie easily towered over the crowd, so he took a moment to take it all in. In his opinion, he had the best spot on the floor. Right in the middle. He could see everything. Everyone had on some form of punk-like, gothic, or emo styling. He saw many spikes, chains, and buckles. So many creative hairstyles and outfit choices. He truthfully felt that he was in his element. It was nice.

Oh! Es-pecially the fine thing standing right in front of him.

Well, he assumed that she looked good. He was absolutely digging her hair. She had large Bantu Knots going across her head. It was was a nice Cajun Spice color. This hair definitely takes the cake for him.

His eyes trail down her body to look at her outfit. She had fishnets on her legs and torso. Over the fishnets, she had on an AC/DC crop top with jagged edges that she probably cut herself. Her bottoms were black ripped shorts. Extremely short, they wrapped around her ass so nicely, and some of the flesh hung out of them. He couldn’t see too much of her feet, but he could guess that she’s wearing Demonias. He really wanted to see the front of her choker.

She was moving to the music and shaking her hips to the beat of ‘The Boy’s a Liar.” It was a cute song in his opinion, and her dance was just as adorable. But it was dangerous how the plush of her ass moved in those shorts.

Her friend who was dancing beside her accidentally backed into him. She turned to apologize and Hobie gave her a nod and a “you’re good,” then went right back to staring at Bantu Knots. The girl peeped him, and she smiled and nudged her to get her attention. She whispers in her ear, then turns back around completely.

When Hobie makes eye contact with Bantu Knots, his heart feels like it’s slowing down. Then, immediately, it runs. She had big brown eyes and the cutest ring on her round nose. Her makeup wasn’t much, but she still looked stunning. She clearly had on foundation, concealer and some sort of powder. She had long false lashes on, sharp wings, and black glossy lips. On the flush of her cheek, there was a small black heart drawn with eyeliner. She was gorgeous.

He was mesmerized, it was like his body did the work for him when he nodded and smirked at her. She gave him a sideways smile back, looked him up and down, then turned back around. The whistle that Hobie let out was long and smooth. Miles nudges him in the arm having been witness to the whole thing. Hobie grins.

He takes another chance to enrapture her. He taps her shoulder than leans down next to her ear. He keeps his voice low, and mutters, “I love your hair.”

He guessed she really liked that compliment, because she immediately lights up and turns around fully to look at him. The girl puts her hand on his shoulder to pull his ear towards her. A shock courses through his body when her breath hits his skin.

“I love yours, too.”

Somehow, her voice was even more breathtaking than she was. Hobie shivers. He resists the urge to ask her if she wanted to use his wicks as handle bars. Then he blinks. He has no idea where that idea came from, but he liked it.

He also liked her voice. She didn’t sound like she was local. Most spidermen in the spider society were from New York or some variation of it. He had heard his fair share of Northern American accents. Hers was more southern. Not nearly as southern as Webslinger’s though. Or, a different kind of southern.

"You’re not from around here, are you?” He asks her.

“Neither are you, mate.”

Hobie chuckled at her joke. Even though she was mocking him, it was pretty good. He decided then that he likes her and he doesn’t want to stop talking to her. He looks to his side to see Miles caught up in his own conversation with his new buddies. Good, he’s occupied.

“I don’t entirely think it’s fair that you know where I’m from and I don’t know where you’re from.” He suggest.

“I’m from Atlanta,” she answers, her deep voice relaxing him. “I moved to Brooklyn not to long ago.”

That was interesting. “Oh, really?” He wondered what might have brought her all the way up here.

She nodded. “What about you?”

Hobie rubbed his chin and quickly thought of a small lie to tell you. “I’m just visiting my bro, he invited me to this concert. I’ve never heard her music before, but I like what he showed me.”

The girl gasped as if Hobie had just told her of a terrible crime. “You've never listened to Rico before?”

Hobie shook his head. “Don’t worry, love. That’s gonna change real soon. Especially when her fans look like this.” He looked her body over and smirked.

She returns his advance with a sensual smile of her own. “Like what?”

His face doesn’t fall. “Like, bare fit.”

“What that mean?”

“It’s UK for, ‘fine as hell.’”

She continued smiling at him. They stared at each other for a second, then she spoke. “My name is Y/N.”

“Hobie.”

Before she could continue talking to him, the music starts to pick up a bit more. The playlist becomes a little more raunchy. She turns back around to dance with her friends and Hobie begins rapping along with Miles. While the music played, Hobie would occasionally catch Y/N’s eyes look at him. She was dancing really cutely, which was absolutely not the vibe of the songs that were currently playing. He could tell she wanted to really move. But, she was most likely afraid of making him uncomfortable.

Hobie had to let her know that he wants it. With all the confidence and audacity he can muster, he rubs his hand on her lower back, wrapping his fingers and palm around her waist. She turns slightly to look at him, and her eyes are full of mischief. Hobie leans over to her ear once again. Her friends are watching the scene somewhat discreetly and giggling.

“You can throw it back on me, love. I don’t mind at all.”

Apparently, that was all she needed to get absolutely loose with it. She beamed at him, caught the beat, then started dancing on him while he held her waist. Hobie’s grip is firm, but he doesn’t force their hips together, no matter how much it would turn him on. This wasn’t the first time he’s been twerked on, but he hasn’t been this into it. He grabs the other side of her hips with his other hand.

She bounces herself on him a couple times, and Hobie had never been more happy that he was wearing jeans. He doesn’t know how she would react to feeling his boner on her. However, the thought excites him. How good would it feel to just start humping into her backside? Everyone is paying attention to themselves. Would anyone even notice if he slipped his finger in between her thick thighs and underneath her shorts?

As she continues to dance on him, his imagination begins to run wilder. He doesn’t even realize how much time had passed and that the opener had already came and gone. There was a new DJ who was to introduce Rico any second now, and all Hobie could do was watch her skin bounce on his pants. There’s only a slit going from the back of her shorts to the front to cover her pussy. He assumes that she has a thong on, or he would be able to see her panties. If she just bent over a little more and stuck her ass in the air, Hobie could play with her for a little bit. And if he just angled his hips down a bit, he could pull it to the side, unzip his jeans, and just…

That would be disgusting. Fucking this random girl in the middle of a mosh pit floor. It excites him. He wonders if she likes that idea too. He doesn’t even realize that she has moved his arms completely to the front of her torso. His hands were gripping her lower stomach. She was practically grinding on him. Hobie’s mouth opened only slightly. He licked his bottom lip then bit it, not noticing the way Miles’s eyebrows lifted in shock.

At one point she looked back at him without stopping with the same bright smile on her face. Just when Hobie was about to say ‘fuck it’, the DJ begins to hype everyone up. He lets go of Y/N and looks towards the stage. The lights are going crazy. So is the crowd.

Miles is shaking his arm back and forth. “That girl was going crazy!”

Hobie slapped their hands together and bumped his chest. “Hell yeah.” He takes one more look at her back. As if she feels his eyes on her, she looked back at him. They smile and she turns around. Hobie doesn’t stop.

Miles squints his eyes. “Wait a minute, big fella.” He holds his arms out. “Whatchu thinkin’?”

Hobie shrugs, but still doesn’t stop looking at her. “I’m not thinking anything, mate.”

The crowd gets louder as one of Rico’s songs finally start playing.

“You ready?” Miles yells at him.

“Ha!” Hobie laughs and grabs Miles’s arms. “Are you? Your first time moshing, big steppa,” He shouts back.

“I’m scared as hell!”

“Don’t be! I got you!”

With that, Rico finally comes out and the crowd screams. All at once, the entire venue starts jumping. Hobie’s eardrums feel like they’re about to explode. With the way he’s moving along with his height and his firm grip over Miles’s shoulders, he feels sorry for the people behind and next to him.

The crowd isn’t pushing so much as everyone is just too filled with adrenaline to stay still. Rico herself is having a lot of fun on the stage too. Jumping up and down with everyone, screaming into the mic, feeding off the crowds amazing energy. Hobie’s really feeling it too. He hadn’t been moshing for a while, it felt good to be in his element.

As the songs change, the crowd gets more and more hype, but it isn’t until STFU when they really start moving.

Hobie doesn’t let go of Miles and pushes people around, almost falling over himself. At the same time, he makes sure to push against Y/N’s back. Everyone is screaming, pushing and throwing themselves into each other. It’s wild, hot, and exciting. It’s the most fun Hobie has had for a minute.

Y/N kept up pretty well, as if she’s true to this too. The concert goes on, and Rico begins to play her more down tempo songs. Hobie and Miles are sweating , but Miles is heaving. Hobie nudges him.

“You alright, bro?” Miles doesn’t stop heaving, but gives him a thumbs up. Hobie groans and slaps his head.

“Bro, so sorry, I completely forgot to bring some water for you. Ay listen, we can go and get some, and I’ll push us back up here, that good?” He suggests.

Miles waved him off. “Nah man,” he says exasperated. “I’m chilling.”

His new group of friends hand him a hydro flask and tells him to waterfall. Hobie thinks it’s gross, but it gets the job done. Miles looks fine again. He sighs in relief and turns back to see Y/N just vibing.

He takes the liberty to tap her shoulder and lean down into her ear. “You doing okay?” She was sweating, so was he, but she was still the most gorgeous girl in the venue.

She smiled at him thankfully and nodded. Once again, placing her hand on his shoulder she talks into his ear. “Yeah, thank you. What about you? You look just as crazy as I do.”

Hobie laughs. “How bad do I look?”

She shakes her head. “I didn’t say you look bad, baby. I said you look crazy. I like it.” Hobie’s heart flutters at the pet name, her southern drawl coming out a bit. He decides then that this can’t be the only time they talk.

“How much do you like it?” Pussy Poppin’ begins to play, Y/N turns around, grabs his hands to put them around her waist and begins to dance on him again. Hobie smiles again. This time, there’s no letting of each other. His hands remain on her waist for some time. She often looks back and stares at him. He knows this girl likes him just as much as he does and if he was only back in his universe, he would have grabbed her and swung her back to his place immediately. But, he can’t leave Miles-

Where is Miles?

Hobie lets go of her and begins looking around in a panic. She becomes worried. “Are you okay?” She yells while placing her hand on his chest. Hobie is too worried to revel in her touch, but one of the boys Miles was interacting with gets his attention.

“Hey, that boy, Miles?” He starts. “He said to tell you he was feeling lightheaded so he went to his dorm.” Hobie closes his eyes and sighs in relief. But he was also upset that he had just left without a word. Then, the kid gets his attention once more. “Um, he also said good luck with your girl.”

Ah, so that’s why. That’s kind of awkward.

“Everything alright?” Y/N asks again.

Hobie’s reassuring smile relaxes her. “It’s fine. Was looking for my bro but he went home.”

That mischievous glint in her eye came back. "So you’re free?”

Hobie pauses. Was this really happening right now? Was he really this lucky? “Yeah.”

“Want to go to my place after this? I got a blunt.”

The night just keeps getting better. Hobie chased off a stupid smile and says a thankful prayer to whatever is listening. Then he realizes. It’s only gone 10:00. The concert can’t be ending for at least another hour.

“After?” Hobie debates his next move, then he grabbed her hand. Without looking away from her, he slowly brings her hand to feel his crotch. Her eyes widened. He was very turned on, he had been since she backed up on him. He rubbed her hand up and down a bit so she could feel his arousal even better. When she began squirming and rocking back and forth on her feet, Hobie's smirk grows. Her legs were clenched shut and she couldn’t take her eyes off his waist. He leans down again, his breath making her shudder. “You see what you did to me? You’re really gonna make me wait, love?”

He stares into her eyes. Hers flicker back and forth between his, and eventually to his studded lips. Hobie anticipates her answer, but from the way she began to grip his member he knows she’ll take him up on his offer.

She takes in a breath, turns to tell her friends that she’s leaving, the grabs Hobie’s arm and starts walking through the crowd.

ending a/n: That’s the end of part one to the story. How did you guys like it so far? I wanted to add a few Rico songs to get a gist of how the concert went, but I didn’t want to overload the story. I hope the suggestiveness is to y’all’s liking. I promise the nasty raunchy sex is coming next. I can’t help but to write lore for every story I write, so you, the reader, will have a little back ground story in the next part. Just a couple of heads up, it will be a little bit angsty towards the end, and involve having sex while under the influence. They’ll be smoking while they’re fucking, basically.

about the author: I do not write for this fandom, this will be my first and probably only story involving spiderverse. I write Jujutsu Kaisen fanfiction, pretty much exclusively Toji. I also don’t write on Tumblr. I will link my AO3 but please be warned that the stories I write have very dark content matter and are angst the whole way through.