#drew gets high and this is what he shares with the world

[afeelgoodblog]

The Best News of Last Year - 2023 Edition

Welcome to our special edition newsletter recapping the best news from the past year. I've picked one highlight from each month to give you a snapshot of 2023. No frills, just straightforward news that mattered. Let's relive the good stuff that made our year shine.

January - London: Girl with incurable cancer recovers after pioneering treatment

A girl’s incurable cancer has been cleared from her body after what scientists have described as the most sophisticated cell engineering to date.

2. February - Utah legislature unanimously passes ban on LGBTQ conversion therapy

The Utah State Legislature has unanimously approved a bill that enshrines into law a ban on LGBTQ conversion therapy.

3. March - First vaccine for honeybees could save billions

The United States Department of Agriculture (USDA) has approved the world’s first-ever vaccine intended to address the global decline of honeybees. It will help protect honeybees from American foulbrood, a contagious bacterial disease which can destroy entire colonies.

4. April - Fungi discovered that can eat plastic in just 140 days

Australian scientists have successfully used backyard mould to break down one of the world's most stubborn plastics — a discovery they hope could ease the burden of the global recycling crisis within years. 

5. May - Ocean Cleanup removes 200,000th kilogram of plastic from the Pacific Ocean

The Dutch offshore restoration project, Ocean Cleanup, says it has reached a milestone. The organization's plastic catching efforts have now fished more than 200,000 kilograms of plastic out of the Pacific Ocean, Ocean Cleanup said on Twitter.

6. June - U.S. judge blocks Florida ban on care for trans minors in narrow ruling, says ‘gender identity is real’

A federal judge temporarily blocked portions of a new Florida law that bans transgender minors from receiving puberty blockers, ruling Tuesday that the state has no rational basis for denying patients treatment.

7. July - World’s largest Phosphate deposit discovered in Norway

A massive underground deposit of high-grade phosphate rock in Norway, pitched as the world’s largest, is big enough to satisfy world demand for fertilisers, solar panels and electric car batteries over the next 50 years, according to the company exploiting the resource.

8. August - Successful room temperature ambient-pressure magnetic levitation of LK-99

If the claim by Sukbae Lee and Ji-Hoon Kim of South Korea’s Quantum Energy Research Centre holds up, the material could usher in all sorts of technological marvels, such as levitating vehicles and perfectly efficient electrical grids.

9. September - World’s 1st drug to regrow teeth enters clinical trials

The ability to regrow your own teeth could be just around the corner. A team of scientists, led by a Japanese pharmaceutical startup, are getting set to start human trials on a new drug that has successfully grown new teeth in animal test subjects.

10. October - Nobel Prize goes to scientists behind mRNA Covid vaccines

The Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine has been awarded to a pair of scientists who developed the technology that led to the mRNA Covid vaccines. Professors Katalin Kariko and Drew Weissman will share the prize.

11. November - No cases of cancer caused by HPV in Norwegian 25-year olds, the first cohort to be mass vaccinated for HPV.

Last year there were zero cases of cervical cancer in the group that was vaccinated in 2009 against the HPV virus, which can cause the cancer in women.

12. December - President Biden announces he’s pardoning all convictions of federal marijuana possession

President Joe Biden announced Friday he's issuing a federal pardon to every American who has used marijuana in the past, including those who were never arrested or prosecuted.

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And there you have it – a year's worth of uplifting news! I hope these positive stories brought a bit of joy to your inbox. As I wrap up this special edition, I want to thank all my supporters!

Buy me a coffee ❤️

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

#best news of last week

[blackopals-world]

I've Found Home

Fem!Yuu and Twisted Cast

(Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8)

Implied relationship

She moved on. She had to and had every reason to. She had someone who relied on her.

Warnings:hurt-comfort, Angst to heal your soul. Healing those and abandonment issues. Happy ending I promise. Don't read if you are not ready to cry. Did not proof read, wrote this late a night, sick and half asleep. Sorry.

Move on.

Forget.

There was no going back.

You chose this.

You wanted this.

After three years of living in another world Yuu couldn't adjust easily to her old life.

A life that no longer exists. So she began building a new one.

She found a good price on a place near the mountains. Private but not isolated. She had the money after her book deal.

People would never believe her story so she wrote fantasy novels. She felt closer to her friends this way but more lonely all the same. She couldn't share the truth with anyone and could never talk about them as though they were real.

Still, she could write new stories with new characters to forget.

Life had been quiet. Eat, sleep, write, watch TV, read and do it all again. Sometimes getting food deliveries, read fan mail and get a call to two. It was decent life. Something Idia would love.

He's probably taken over STYX by now. I bet he and Ortho are doing great together.

Nevermind, she could probably cook something. Eating instant meals was probably ruining her health. Vil would kill her if he knew.

...

Food can wait. She wasn't that hungry anyways.

The garden! Yes! She had to tend the garden! She had ordered a spring bundle to plant.

The tag said it had some tulips, mums, begonias, and specialty white roses.

Nevermind... forget it. She should take a nap. A lazy day never hurt anyone. Even beasts can afford to sleep.

...

...

...

Yuu decided to leave. She couldn't take this anymore. If she got one more reminder she'd collapse. Their faces were ingrained in her mind and guilt burned under her skin.

Life was funny you know. You don't know what come next.

Yuu certainly didn't.

She hiked up the mountain trying to forget every time Jade would drag her to go foraging with him. Every late-night walk she had with Malleus. Every magic carpet ride with Kalim.

It wasn't fair! Why did she have to go through this? She wanted to see them again. What did she do to deserve this?

She was good! She was kind! She just wanted to go home! Is that so wrong? She worked hard! She made a name for herself! She should have the life she wanted and be able to enjoy that life.

But she missed them...

Unknowingly Yuu had dropped to her knees and crying. Only the forest could hear her and perhaps it took pity on her.

(Warning: If you are sensitive to child abuse or dead animals please don't read on.)

When her tears were gone and her cries faded there was a response.

A different cry. High pitched and gurgling. The kind that every woman knew in an odd instinctual way. The kind that sets off every alarm in your head and makes every hair stand on end. A baby.

She ran towards it praying to God that this wasn't a mountain lion. It wasn't though.

She found a small shack off the path. It was surrounded by trash. Must have been occupied by squatters. Said squatters seemed to have vacated at least a few days ago.

Yuu muscled open the makeshift door. The crying had turned into unfamiliar cracking breathless howls. Their voice must have given out a while ago after who knows how long. Hours, days...any longer would mean death.

Yuu searched and found a bunker of sorts under the floorboards.

She found a soggy bare mattress, a few scattered crayons, a ball and-oh God, that smell. It was a rotting cat. Poor thing must have been here for weeks. There was an empty cat food bowl nearby. Little drawings littered the floor. Ones of a smiling child with a smiling cat.

The whimpering cries continued and drew Yuu forward. She found them curled up in a corner. A rope was tied around their leg. It was a child. They were wrapped in soiled clothes, had matted hair, and emaciated.

Yuu felt her heart break again. This poor baby. Who could do this.

He looked at her with fear and hope. He wanted-no needed to be saved. He was probably no older than 3. He had no understanding of what was happening to him. His tears had marked his face as the only place was covered in a layer of dirt.

"Hey, is okay I'm here to help. I'm going to take you away now. Is that okay? We'll get you some food." Yuu tried to keep her voice even to not scare him.

The boy crawled over to the place of the dead cat. And began shaking it.

"Nina!Nina!" He wailed trying to wake her up.

He didn't know she was dead. He didn't even understand what death was.

"I'm sorry Nina can't come with us." Yuu said pulling him gently by the back of his ragged shirt.

But children don't understand these things.

"Nina! No! Nina!" He yelled horsey.

"Shh, it's okay. Don't worry I'll come back for her later. I promise." Yuu hushed.

She could bury her in the garden. He clearly loved her a lot and the poor kitty deserves that much.

After untying the rope Yuu lifted the boy into her arms and carried him home. He made almost no noise as he buried himself in her arms.

Yuu promised herself that she'd never let something like this happen to him again. He would never be abandoned again, he'd never go hungry again, and he'd be loved. She'd love him, she swore it.

"My son." She whispered to no one at all but I affirmed everything she felt.

He needed a name. The case worker didn't have one for him on file. She got to choose one.

For a writer she struggled to find one.

Mal, Elliot, Leo, Cecil, Bishop, Ali, Jacob, Carter, Azure, Jess

Only one name stuck

Grimm

"Grimm! It time for bed. Grab a book if you want me to read it to you." Yuu said walking up the stairs.

Grimm scanned his bookshelf for one of his favorites. The titles were: "The Rose Queen", "The King of Beasts", "The Wishing Star", "The sea witch", "The Sand Serpent", "The fairy Gala", "The Little Robot", "Magic Cat", "The beautiful Queen", and "The Underworld and back again"

Grimm had a favorite right now. The newest among the children's book collection Yuu had written. She pulled it off the shelf and ran back to bed.

Yuu could barely keep up these days. Grimm was fast but Yuu had practice.

She pulled the covers over him and read the title as Grimm snuggled up with his favorite stuffed animal. It was another merchandise stuffed animal. It was a big gray cat with a stripped bow and purple crystal around its neck.

Grimm named it Nina and took it everywhere. Along as it comforted him Yuu said nothing.

"The Lonely Dragon: Once upon a time there was a powerful dragon prince who lived in a land far far away." Yuu began.

"But the dragon isn't lonely forever. He meets the lost princess and they become best friends! Oh and the Silver knight comes in stop the dragon here!" Grimm interrupted leaning over his mother.

" Well if you want to tell the story." Yuu sighed.

When Yuu finished Grimm asked her something.

"So the dragon isn't lonely anymore?" He looked at her with wide eyes.

"No, he has many friends and rules over a nice kingdom," Yuu said in a hushed voice as shifted his pillow to make him lie down.

"What about the lost princess?"

"The lost princess found her way home. She said goodbye to her friends and is where she belongs now."

"But is she lonely? Without all her friends?"

"She used to be but now she has a home. She misses her friends but she's happy."

"I wish I could meet her. I'd be her friend and she'd never be lonely again."

"I know, I'd bet she'd be so happy. Goodnight, baby."Yuu turned off the light as she kissed Grimm's cheek

"Night Mama." Grimm said kissing his mother back.

When Yuu left the room she kept the door open just a bit so Grimm wouldn't be afraid of the dark.

She took a deep breath. Maybe she shouldn't have written the Lost Princess series but it was so well loved these days what could she do?

Still, she could relive those days for just a brief moment and smile.

She made her way to the study to go back to writing her new book when a knock came from downstairs.

Yuu cautiously made her way to the door and pressed an ear to it to listen to who it might be. Forgetting she had a peephole. A familiar voice called her name from the other side.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland yuu #twst yuu #azul ashengrotto #vil schoenheit #leona kingscholar #malleus draconia #malleus x reader #riddle rosehearts #idia shroud #kalim al asim #jamil viper #twisted wonderland grim #vil shoenheit x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #idia shroud x reader #kalim x reader #jamil viper x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #Spotify

[thewulf]

I'm All In Darlin' || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request - Hi! Reading one of your fic got me this idea: hangman x reader, she isn't a pilot, maybe a paramedic or nurse or something like this. She goes to the hard deck because her best friend works there on the weekends and she became friends with the daggers... Read Rest Here

A/N: Love me some Jake as always. Changed up the ending a little bit. Very fluffy. Thank you anon!

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Y/N

Word Count: 2.4k +

“Hi Jake.” You hummed setting your glass down next to him on the high-top he and a few other Daggers were already occupying.

He gave you a once over as you slid into the bar seat next to him. Quirking an eyebrow up he sat up a bit straighter in his seat while turning towards you ever so slightly, “No scrubs today?” Jake asked seeing you in your nicer clothes. You’d been a nurse ever since you graduated college. You’d met your best friend Emily at the hospital not too much longer after that.

Nodding your head your took a drink from the beer, “Yeah, Emily convinced me to look nice for once. I have to admit though, jeans suck compared to scrubs.” You answered him once you took a drink and pointed towards your friend who was snuggled up to her ‘not-boyfriend’ Javy. While your roommate tried to deny the situationship you couldn’t deny seeing the man at your shared apartment every other night.

Jake grinned, “I like your scrubs. Not that I don’t like that outfit either. But you look cute in scrubs.” He rambled on as you smiled at him. The relationship between the two of you was… complicated to say the least. You weren’t the hookup type and Jake wasn’t really a relationship type. As much as you adored him you couldn’t put yourself through that knowing how much jealousy would rip apart the very friendship you’d already loved and adored with the man.

“Thanks Jake.” Your cheeks burned every so slightly with the look he was giving you, pure adoration. God, you wanted everything and more with this man. You’d grown to love him over the month and half long friendship you’d harbored with him. He was everything and more that you wanted in a man. It left you wondering what fucked up past relationship made him so allusive to a commitment. You’d prayed deep down it was some sort of defense mechanism and that maybe just maybe one day you’d have a chance with the man. But even you knew you couldn’t wait for forever.

He nodded, “You look cute tonight too.”

Your already there smile widened as you took in his sweet words, “You’re being awfully nice right now.”

He shrugged, “You know I don’t lie darlin’.”

“In that case, thank you Jake.” Your eyes traced over his face as he nodded once more at you. His eyes drew over your shoulder seeing a group of men pointing in your general direction. You noticed Jake’s own eyes darken as he moved to the other side of you, shielding you from the view of the men at the bar.

Clueless to his actions you gave him a confused glance once he settled down on the other side of you.

He sighed, “Group of Army boys visiting from Virginia. Some joint training exercise with another squadron on base. They’re not the best company.” You knew he wanted to say more but bit his tongue.

“Noted.”

He stood from his seat clearly still unsettled, “Come on, let’s sit outside. It’s a nice night out anyway.” He held out his hand for you to take. Without a second thought you took his hand in yours and let him lead the way. Both of you so stuck in your own little world that you didn’t notice the snickers from his own squadron mates.

When Emily saw that the both of you had in fact left the bar she turned to the group, “So, how do we get them together?”

“Pot calling the kettle black.” Natasha smirked eyeing how Emily was practically in Javy’s lap.

Em shook her head, “Not about me right now. It’s about those two idiots.”

Fanboy’s eyes lit up as he jutted in, “Make her jealous? Classic case of having Jake bring a girl here or something? That always works.”

Javy shook his head, “Not with Y/N it won’t.

Natasha smirked even further, “Been spending a lot time over at Y/N and Emily’s place huh? That how you know so much about her?” She challenged.

Javy shrugged, “Like Em said, not about us. It’s about them right now.”

Nat just shook her head, “Whatever. I agree with him though. That’s a stupid plan Mickey. This isn’t a movie.”

He shrugged, “You come up with a plan then.”

Nat sighed, “Just give them some time. They’ll figure it out. Not like either of them have eyes for anybody else.”

Em nodded, “So, stay the hell out of it?”

Nat grinned, “For now.”

You’d arrived back at the Hard Deck the next Friday for your usual routine of flirting with Jake until Penny shut the bar down. It had become a welcomed Friday tradition, the two of you getting lost in each other’s conversation.

When you scanned the usual location for Jake you frowned when you couldn’t spot the blonde hair you’d become so accustomed too. Reluctantly, you sat down next to Emily. Your eyes didn’t stop scanning the crowd to see if

“Seresin isn’t here.” Mickey spoke up seeing you still searching for the man.

Your frown only deepened, “Oh, no?”

He leaned forward whispering into your ear, “No, on a date with some pretty blonde girl or something like that. Saw him walking her to his car earlier for dinner.” You could tell Fanboy was feeling a little more sloshed than he normally was for a Friday outing with the squad.

“Oh.” Your eyes looked in every direction but at him, “Good to know, I guess.”

You didn’t notice Javy and Em sneaking side glances at your ongoing whispered conversation with the pilot. But he knew something wasn’t right seeing your face go from annoyed to upset in a matter of seconds. It dawned on him almost immediately that Mickey set to motion his very stupid, very idiotic plan.

“Y/N. What kind of beer do you want tonight?” Javy spoke up after seeing your downcast eyes.

You forced a smile on your face knowing you needed to think of a fix to your situation quick, “I’m actually feeling kinda shitty. Think I’m just going to head home for the night. I’ll see you later Em?”

She nodded, “You sure? I can order some food?”

You shook your head, “Positive. Just need to lie down for a while.”

“Alright. Call me if you need anything.” She gave your hand a quick squeeze letting you know she was there for you. She always was.

You nodded, “I’ll see you guys later.” You waved before rushing out the door not wanting to explain the oncoming tears. Jake on a date? Jake on a date with a pretty blonde girl? Fuck, you were fucked. You thought you had at least some exclusion with him. But why would you think that? You were just friends. Nothing more, nothing less. No matter how badly you begged him for just a little bit more. No matter how damn obvious you made it seem. It wasn’t going to happen, and you had to just accept it.

While you were letting yourself mope in bed for the night Jake and his sister, the pretty blonde, made their way to the Hard Deck. He’d talked you up the entire night, not being able to wait to introduce the two of you. So, when he walked in and didn’t spot you with the group Javy pulled him to the side explaining what had happened.

“He what?” Jake asked quickly, afraid he might have lost you in all the ground he’d been gaining with you over the last month. Jake had decided quickly once he met you that he was going to pursue you. You were everything that he wanted in a partner, just as you thought of him. Kind, sweet, caring and beyond sharp. Jake couldn’t help but to fall just as helplessly in love with you too. He was just taking it slow. He wasn’t going to spook you. No, he was going to do it right with you.

Javy nodded slowly, “It was a stupid idea. He was just trying to help the two of you. He wasn’t trying to fuck it all up.” Javy defended his overly intoxicated friend as best as he could.

Jake noticed his sister looking down probably feeling uncomfortable, “It’s fine, just tell her the truth when you see her next yeah?”

He grabbed his sisters elbow, “This isn’t going to plan.”

“Did I mess it all up?” She frowned clearly overhearing the conversation between the two men.

“No, it’s just stupid pilot shit.” Jake sighed sitting down, “She’s not picking up though. She always picks up.”

“Text her the truth. Let her be for the night and try again tomorrow. That’s all you can do. Give her some space.” Jake’s sister always leveled him out. Always made sense of the madness he always seemed to be in a state of.

Jake nodded, “You’re right.”

She grinned, “Always am.”

Jake knocked softly on your apartment door hoping you were home, and he could desperately explain the situation. A miscommunication that was all. He was head over heels for you and only you.

Jake’s relief of the door opening vanished when he saw Emily on the other side, “Jake. This is a surprise.”

“You know what happened?” He asked your roommate.

She nodded, “We told Mickey not to. He was drunk.”

“Is Y/N alright?” Jake asked peering in to see if you were awake.

“Define alright… She’s in her room. Came out for some food earlier.”

Jake frowned, “Can I see her?”

Emily stood there for a brief moment contemplating the options before stepping aside and inviting Jake in, “Just, be kind.”

Jake nodded heading right to your room, “Always.”

He knocked softly once he reached the other side. He waited a moment before knocking again.

“I’m fine Em.” He heard your

“Not Em.” Jake replied sending you straight out of bed.

“Jake?” You asked walking over to the door completely forgetting how you looked, like a troll who hasn’t seen the sunlight in days. Nevertheless, you opened your door spotting the blonde boy you loved so dearly giving you the most desperate look.

“Hey darlin’.” He gave you the best smile he could knowing the situation unfolding beneath him against his best wishes.

“Hey.” You looked him over quickly before looking back towards the ground.

Jake didn’t want to waste a second, “That was my sister. She came to surprise me. I swear it wasn’t some random girl.” He grabbed at your hand seeing the hurt look in your eyes.

You nodded, “I heard.”

“You heard? Why didn’t you text me back?” He asked gently. He wasn’t mad, no. He just wanted to understand. Understand you and why you were hurting.

You took a second before looking back up at him, “I don’t know… I guess I was just embarrassed.” It wasn’t easy for you to admit but here you were. Looking like a troll and bearing your damn soul to the man you loved.

Jake shook his head, “Don’t be darlin’. Can I tell you something?” He asked hoping you’d look back up at him.

And you did, “Yeah?”

“You not texting me back or calling? That scared the hell out of me. I knew how much you meant to me before but the thought of losing you…” He paused trying to find the right words, “I can’t bear the thought of that Y/N. I need you in my life. I adore you. God, what I’m trying to say is I like you. More than a friend. And I understand if you don’t believe me. My reputation isn’t the greatest.” He laughed it off as best he could, “But I’m all in on you darlin’. I’m all in.”

You looked back up to him with the widest set of eyes, “You like me?”

He smiled sweetly at you in your disheveled state. You were cute, as always. As messed up as it was it warmed his heart slightly at the thought of you being so torn up at the thought of him just going on a date.

“I like you a lot. A whole lot, sweetheart.” He nodded taking both your hands in his, rubbing the backs of path your hands with his.

Your grin slowed his anxious heart just a little, “Seems like we have a good problem on our hands Jake. One that’s easily solvable.” You smiled that genuine smile right back up at him, “I like you too. A whole lot.” You stepped forward letting your body rest near his.

“I’ll offer a solution.” He watched you closely as your cheeks warmed up under his intense gaze.

“Which is?” You asked all too curiously playing into the game.

He continued watching you under that lustful gaze that had you squirming, “Me taking you out tonight. A nice restaurant and a walk on the beach after? You get to look pretty, and I can put on my finest suit. Call it a date?”

The blush that spread through your cheeks made Jake’s knees a little wobbly. You had no damn clue the effect you really had on him.

“You really want to? With me?” You asked letting your insecurity get the better of you.

“Darlin’, there’s nothing else I’d rather due. And only with you.”

You grinned nodding your head, “It’s a date then.”

“I’ll see you tonight. Pick you up at 6. Can’t wait to see you.” He bent down giving you a soft kiss on the cheek.

As he turned around to walk out you called out to stop him, “Jake?”

“Yeah sweetheart?” He turned giving you one last look.

“Will you kiss me?”

He smiled nodding his head at the same time, “Of course, tonight. After the best date of your life. When you’re sure of it. 100% sure of it.” He leaned against the doorframe watching you with that hungry look in his eye once more.

Now it was your chance to be a little bolder, “What if I told you I was already 100% sure of it?” Your eyes flicked down to his lips before meeting his gaze once more.

“Well, in that case.” He grinned taking three large steps back to you.

He took your head in his hands looking down at your face, “You’re sure?”

“Never been surer.” You nodded as best as you could. Cheeks heating under the intimacy of the moment.

Before he kissed you he mumbled, “You’re so beautiful.” Letting you know you were in this one for the long haul. Jake was your endgame. You could just feel it.

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @mayhemmanaged @hardballoonlove

#top gun maverick #top gun #jake seresin #top gun imagine #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin x you #hangman x reader #hangman x y/n #jake seresin x oc #jake seresin fanfiction #hangman top gun #top gun hangman #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin fic #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin oneshot #jake seresin angst #jake seresin au #hangman x you #hangman x oc #hangman angst #hangman adam page #hangman au #hangman imagine #hangman fanfiction #hangman seresin

[lovebugism]

Hi I am begging on my knees for more of your steddie x reader it’s so good I’m crying

BIZARRE LOVE TRIANGLE | baby fever

summary: steve's got a bad case of baby fever. it's not so bad until you start getting sick with it too. eddie has to come up with a solution before all of you fall ill.

pairing: steve harrington / f!reader / eddie munson

a/n: i just realized i haven't posted anything steddie related in almost three months. i am so sorry. this is a total travesty. please enjoy this 3k blurb and find it in your heart to forgive me <3

You squint at the grocery list scribbled on a bright blue sticky note. It’s a mish-mash of all your different handwritings. Some are certainly neater than others. “This just says crabs… I think...”

“It doesn’t say crabs, you loon,” Eddie laughs from where he mans the shopping cart beside you. He’s steering the thing about as well as his van. “It says cereals.”

“No, it says a bunch of gibberish that no one can read but you,” you retort with a giggle of your own as you follow him down the breakfast aisle. “And we just need one box of cereal, alright? Singular.”

He turns to you with a cartoonish pout on his lips. “But why?”

“Because you’re like a kid, Eds. You eat the entire thing in one sitting, and then you’re absolutely haywire for the rest of the day.”

And, just like a child, the boy stands in front of the vibrantly colored boxes of cereal with a wide grin on his face.

The local grocery store was smaller compared to the others in town, but they had every brand of the breakfast food known to man, stacked in neat rows from the floor to ceiling. 

Eddie’s got a twinkle in his eye as his gaze runs over them all. And even though you think it’s all boyish and hilarious, you let him have his fun. 

He grew up unable to enjoy all the goodness of overly sweet cereal because bills and food with actual sustenance were always more important. Now, he’s got a halfway stable job with Wayne at the car shop, and he’s living at his own place with his boyfriend and girlfriend, and he can buy whatever the hell kind of cereal he wants. 

So, as far as he’s concerned, everyone who said he’d never amount to much can suck it. 

And you know you’ll let him buy the whole damn grocery store out of their cereal if that’s what he wants. It’s the least you can do for the world’s best boyfriend — a title he begrudgingly shares with Steve The Hair Harrington.

You’d give him the world if you could, but for now you’ll have to settle for a couple of boxes of Lucky Charms.

“Okay, so the OJ’s we got last time tasted like absolute shit,” Eddie mutters, mostly to himself as he crouches to peer at the lower shelves. “I saw a commercial for Waffle-O’s this morning, and they looked pretty good. But I know you like Breakfast With Barbie and Steve ate a bowl of C3PO’s every day for, like, two weeks, so…”

You stand by the cart and laugh at his rambling. You turn to look behind you with a lighthearted joke sitting on the edge of your tongue. It dissipates when you realize Steve isn’t next to you. 

Instead, he’s still standing at the end of the aisle with his back to you and Eddie — like his feet forgot how to work when he caught sight of the family across the store. It’s a mother and a father, dressed in their mid-weekday finest, with a baby swaddled at their chest and a toddler bouncing in the seat of the shopping cart. 

And you know it’s got the boy totally lost in his own head. You know he's picturing you and him and Eddie as that happy family — the one fills every store you walk into with baby babbles and bubbly laughter. 

Steve told you his senior year of high school he wanted a baby, that he wanted six of them, and that he wanted them all with you. And you were just a stupid seventeen-year-old girl who would’ve done anything he asked you to, though you definitely drew the line at babies. 

But you’re older now, and far more settled than you had been all that time ago. Steve’s ready for a family, but you don’t think you’re anywhere close.

“How about we just compromise and get all three?” Eddie finally concludes with the boxes already in his arms. He dumps them into the cart and notices that your attention is elsewhere. He realizes then that Steve’s gone too because his attention is stuck on a nice family minding their own business. 

“Not again…” he murmurs to himself while you go rescue the boy.

“I’ve never seen someone so sick with baby fever in my life,” you laugh as you drag Steve back to the cart by his wrist.

“I can’t help it!” he defends weakly. “They were so cute! They were all matching and I couldn’t stop thinking about how I can’t wait to coordinate outfits with our baby. Doesn’t that sound like the cutest fucking thing ever?”

“It sounds very adorable, Stevie,” you nod understandingly and try to ignore the way your stomach twists at the thought of him and his baby girl wearing matching pastels every time they step out of the house. “And we can be just like them in five years—”

“Five years?” he gapes.

“Maybe even ten,” Eddie shrugs and nonchalantly tosses a box of Count Chocula into the cart.

“Ten years— You guys are insane if you think I’m waiting ten years to have a kid!” Steve protests with a pair of buff arms crossed boyishly over his chest. “I’m not getting any younger over here, you know that, right?”

“You’re twenty-five, Steve, stop being so dramatic. We’re just now trying to get settled. I’m still in school, you’re still working at Family Video, Eddie’s still… Eddie. Don’t you think we should have actual careers before we have a kid?”

Steve huffs and rolls his eyes, feigning annoyance even though he knows you’re right.

It’s not like he wants to keep working at the stupid store on Main Street. He keeps putting off the conversation with his dad about another job, because he puts off every conversation with his dad. He’s scared of what asking for a position at his firm will do to his pride.

“She’s right, and you know it, Steven,” Eddie tells him, then scoffs. “I mean, can you really imagine me with a baby strapped to my chest on tour?”

You and Steve both pause and tilt your heads to the side as you picture the sight, terribly in sync as always. You can imagine it, quite perfectly actually, tangible enough to touch.

“Well—”

“That’s the cutest thing I think I’ve ever heard,” Steve finishes your thought for you.

Eddie cowers at the sudden attention. “Okay, stop looking at me like I’m a piece of meat, alright? We are not having a kid right now. There’s no fucking way.”

Steve all but deflates at the rejection as Eddie pushes the cart down the aisle, desperate to escape the bubble of tension the conversation had created in the cereal section.

You smile sheepishly over at Steve and wrap your arms through the crook of his elbow, standing on the tips of your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “He’s being grumpy about it, but he’s right… It’s just not a good idea right now— but it will be, okay? One day. Just not… to-day.”

┄

The day, for you, comes exactly seven of them later. 

You accompany Steve on his morning run and his routine stop for coffee. You’re not quite sure how he’s still mobile because your muscles are screaming, even after the warm shower you took to soothe them.

You left him alone for all of half a second to use the bathroom while he ordered drinks for him and you, and something extra for Eddie for when the boy decides to roll out of bed.

When you return, you find him bouncing a baby on his hip — a young thing, maybe three if you had to guess, with two buns in her hair like bunny ears and a sparkly pink dress to match the bows she wears in them.

Steve smiles down at her, talking to her in a baby voice and saying something you can’t hear because you’re frozen in place. You resemble him at the grocery store a week ago, when he was thrown into a daydream so suddenly that his body all but shut down. 

You look at him now, tickling the baby’s sides just to hear her giggle, and you see him with your firstborn — sleep deprived, covered in spit-up, and still the most beautiful human you’d ever seen.

You have to shake your head to remove the thought before it ruins you entirely. 

Freshly jostled from your stupor, you walk over to him. “Steve… Please tell me you didn’t steal someone’s baby.”

He laughs. “What? No! She was just a little fussy, and I offered to take her while her mom looked for something,” the boy explains. You look just behind him to see the woman bent over at one of the smaller tables, sifting vigorously through a large baby bag.

“She doesn’t seem very fussy now,” you observe, eyes flitting between his and the child's and noticing they’ve both got matching grins.

“She doesn’t, does she?” he smiles, softly scratching at her sides again to make her laugh. And she does, most enthusiastically so, tilting her head back and letting the giggles spill from an open mouth.

He turns back to you, with wide eyes and raised brows and a bemused grin. “I like she likes me.”

“Of course, she does,” you scoff. “Babies always like you.”

The mom returns with a snack in hand and a relieved smile. Steve passes the baby back to her with little effort. She whines at the loss of him, though the brightly packaged treat is quick to quell her sorrow. 

“Thanks for taking her,” the mother's grateful smile falters with exhaustion. “If I don’t give her the same snack at exactly the same time every day, she tends to go a little nuts.” 

Steve tells her that it’s no problem, that he was a part-time babysitter at one point in his life, and that her kid was better than those little shits combined. He censors himself before the swear slips out, though.

You go your separate ways when the barista calls out your drink orders and walk hand in hand back to your place.

“Did you get their names?” you ask him before taking a sip of your latte.

“The mom’s name was Maeve and the kid’s name was Harper—”

“Holy shit,” you mutter.

Steve snaps his head over to you because he thinks you’ve burnt your mouth. Instead, he finds you with a distant smile on your face.

“Those are the cutest names I’ve ever heard. It sounds like something out of a fucking cartoon or something.”

“Yeah…” is all he can say because his mind is preoccupied with a million other thoughts. He doesn’t tell you them, obviously, but you know they’re there. The sly smile pulling at his lips makes it obvious.

“…Why are you looking at me like that.”

“Because I’m totally gonna wear you down,” he grins and brings his coffee to his mouth, sipping through his smirk.

You only scoff in response. “Never.”

┄

It doesn’t take you very long to realize that Steve was right.

You spend the rest of the day thinking about it — about him with a baby and how perfect he'd be as a dad. The thoughts plague you far more than they usually do. They take up the entire frontal cortex of your brain and make it nearly impossible to think about anything else.

You’re self-aware enough to beat yourself up about it. 

You were just telling him that it wasn’t time yet, and you knew you were right. As far as you’re concerned, you still have another few good years before you’re ready to even start seriously considering it. 

But here you are, having to calm yourself down every time the thought of Steve Harrington with a baby, your baby, crosses your mind.

You wait until the boy heads to bed to talk to Eddie about it. You find him in the kitchen, eating handfuls of Breakfast with Barbie like a maniac. You’re too preoccupied to make a snarky comment about it.

“Steve wasn’t lying,” you warn him.

“..About what?” he wonders through the mouthful.

“About him not waiting ten years to have a baby! He wants one now!” you explain through a yell-whisper hybrid. “And he told me he was going to wear me down, and he was right.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide too, like he’s just learned you caught some sort of plague. You have. It’s called baby fever, and it’s only a matter of time before the entire house is afflicted. “Shit…”

“So you have to be the strong one, Eddie.”

“Oh, god,” he whines with pinched brows. “Why does it have to be me?”

“Because I saw him hold a baby today.”

“…And this is a bad thing?”

“Of course, it’s a bad thing! My hormones went crazy, okay? It’s like my brain stopped functioning, and I started thinking with my ovaries or something! All human instinct told me to lay down and procreate the second we got home!”

Eddie laughs to himself. “Are you sure it was human instinct, or was it just you on a normal Wednesday?”

“I’m being serious, Eddie,” you tell him, a sudden solemnity to your features. “You have to put your foot down whenever Steve talks about it because I will cave.”

“Alright, alright, have some Barbie cereal and settle down,” he tells you with a playful grin.

He offers you the box and you pout for a moment before sticking your hand into it and pulling out several red and purple butterfly pieces.

The boy wraps an arm around you with his free hand. He pulls you closer and noses at the crown of your head. You sigh as you relax into him. 

“I’ll take care of it, okay? I actually have the perfect idea.”

“I don’t like the sound of that,” you waver through a mouthful of cereal.

“Don’t worry about it,” he lilts with a grin, smacking a kiss to your forehead. “Let me take care of it.”

┄

You and Steve are tangled in bedsheets, both slowly rousing but trying desperately to go back to sleep. 

You’re laying on your stomach, face smushed into the pillow you clutch to your head. Steve lays halfway on top of you — his legs knotted with yours, arm splayed over your back, and softly snoring in your ear. 

Both of you noticed the lack of Eddie’s presence, but chose not to linger on it too much, figuring he must’ve gone for a breakfast run. 

He returns hardly a moment after the thought of him crosses your mind. You hear the door open and shut again, then the shouts of your names entwined with a muffled barking.

You groan at the intrusion on your sleep.

Steve huffs and shifts against you, voice gruff with fatigue as he wonders: “Why do I hear a dog?”

The mixture of confusion and subtle knowing has you both shuffling out of the bedroom and trudging into the living room.

You round the corner and find Eddie standing by the door with a rowdy goldendoodle bouncing at his feet. He’s trying hopelessly to undo its leash when the thing starts to squirm at the sight of you and Steve.

Eddie’s eyes flit to the both of you when he notices you standing across the room. A smile bursts like early morning sunshine on his face. “Surprise!” he beams.

The metal of the leash clicks when he finally gets it unbuckled. The dog dashes your way, all but jumping into Steve and then spinning in circles with excitement as it tries to figure out who to accept attention from. 

“You got us a dog?” the boy wonders, head cocked back to dodge the thing as it licks at his chin.

“You said you wanted a baby,” Eddie shrugs. “So, I got you a baby.”

“This is so not what a meant,” the boy grouses in response, though he’s got his arms wrapped around the dog like he’s hugging it. “I mean, it’s not even a baby— it’s huge.”

“The woman at the shelter said he was eight months old. And he is a he, so stop calling him it.”

You crouch beside Steve, scratching the dog behind his ear. He pants with his tongue sticking out, almost looking like he’s smiling. It makes you smile too. 

“We don’t even have dog food. Or toys. Or a bed,” you stress. “What are we even gonna name it?”

“Well, I took care of exactly one of those things,” Eddie lilts with a grin. “They only had that gross artificial shit at the grocery store, but they did have some badass collars and an engraving machine, so…”

You and Steve peek through the dog’s golden curls and find a black band with silver spikes dotted around the neck. “Super metal, huh?” you hear himEdiejoke as you reach for the dangled heart pendant handing around the collar.

“…Ozzy?” you recite.

“See what I mean?” he beams. “Metal.”

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #steddie x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington imagine #eddie munson imagine #steve harrington fic #eddie munson fic #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #st drabbles #stevie drabble #eddie spaghetti drabble

[loveliestlovelygirl]

tangle of strings

pianoteacher!anakin x student!reader

synopsis: mr. skywalker has been your piano instructor since you were fourteen years old. from the moment you met, you knew he was the one. he never expressed his feelings for you vocally, despite all the time you spent together. but after you turn eighteen and prepare to leave for college, he changes his tune.

w.c: 6.9k

warnings!! {minors dni}, dark content, grooming heavily featured, sexual content occurs after the reader is 18, p in v, fingering, oral, fem!reader, gentle dom!anakin, sub!reader, "loss" of virginity, jealousy, religious themes

the content you consume is your responsibility ♡

The piano is the only thing Mr. Skywalker told you that he loved.

He was never spotted with a girl or anyone for that matter in a romantic sense. He was always single, which never made sense to anyone in your small town because he is handsome. He’s always been handsome. His yearbook pictures from high school proved it.

When you would go over to his house for piano lessons, he would show you many things from his life, like his award cabinet, filled with every trophy and certificate he’s won from piano competitions or his yearbook photos. Those photos were one of the first things he showed you. It was one of your first memories of just you and him.

Mr. Skywalker takes a big stack of books off the shelf in his library all at once. Using his strength to balance the dusty books on his arms, he brings them to the reading table where you sit. He takes off the top one and opens it up before you.

Eventually, you find his picture. You cover your mouth as you giggle. He had thick glasses making him look like a nerd. But he was cute. So, undeniably cute to you. You wish he could be the same age. You would want to be his friend. You would want to kiss him.

If you were the same age, he could be yours.

“I wasn’t always like this,” he muses, his large body looming behind you as he looks over your head to gaze at the picture. “I used to be the kid everyone picked on. When I’d get home, I would write a song about how I was feeling. Some of those songs inspired the ones I play at my shows.”

When he talks, you gush. His warm voice is safe. He’s the kind of person you could tell all your secrets to.

And you did tell him everything you couldn’t tell your parents. You’d tell him your deepest secrets. Like the boys you crushed on. Or your new feelings of lust towards them that caught you off-guard as a teen. He understood you like no one else in the whole world. He was the first to know about your first kiss when you were sixteen. And he seemed… jealous when you told him.

“I don’t know how it happened,” you say. “One moment, we were talking and laughing. And the next thing I know, Drew is pushing me down on the bed to kiss me!” you squeal. “But don’t tell my parents. They’ll think I’m a whore.”

Mr. Skywalker pats your shoulder. “Don’t worry. I always keep your secrets. Drew is the boy in your history class, correct?”

You nod, amazed that he would remember. The last time you spoke of Drew had been several months ago. But he always pays attention to even the smallest details. That’s how you know he cares.

“I don’t know if he’s good for you,” he mutters, noticeably bitter about something. “Does he really know you? I think… he doesn’t. He’s probably just trying to use you.”

Mr. Skywalker is much older than you. And wiser. So you take his advice to heart. Maybe you shouldn’t see Drew tonight after all.

“How many times have you been kissed?” you ask him, your voice all innocent. Although your motives were anything but pure. While you might have just shared a kiss with Drew, there is one man who is truly the object of your greatest desires. You just haven’t found a way to tell him.

He shakes his head. “You know I’d rather talk about you.” That’s what he says when you pry too deeply into his private life, which only adds to your secret obsession

Anakin has always been the one thing that rivals your obsession with your instrument of choice. And it’s the only secret you kept from him all through high school because you knew he couldn’t possibly feel the same way about you.

Even if the small touches, the secret looks, and long hugs seemed to indicate otherwise. You were too afraid to ask him what it all meant. He never gave that kind of attention to anyone else.

And as an awkward teen, you were furious that you couldn’t express your love to him directly. You kept telling yourself that you would when you’re older. When you turned eighteen, you would confess to him.

Since you couldn’t tell anyone, even him, about this secret, you’d use the piano to share your soul, to put your feelings out into the atmosphere. When you play, no matter where you are, you feel him sitting on the bench beside you, watching over you. 

He taught you everything you know now. He’s the reason you chose to major in Piano Performance in college to the great horror of your parents. But what did they expect? They watched you sacrifice your youth for excellence in your craft. The nights were filled with pools of tears, cries, and screams as you played until you got the part, section, or note just right.

When your fingers rest on the ivory keys, you feel him and nothing else. He’s your muse in every song you write. 

The piece that won you a full scholarship to your dream university, you wrote it while thinking of Anakin. Your beloved piano teacher. Your closest friend. Your secret love.

He’d been in your life for so long, giving you lessons when you first showed an interest in music. How could you not love him?

He went to the same church that your family attended every Sunday. He played piano sometimes during worship service if the music minister was out on vacation or fell ill. Church was how your father met him, and they became good friends. He often came to your Sunday lunches.

Your mom always cooked fried catfish or fried chicken because that’s what your dad wanted. Mr. Skywalker, as you called him back in your high school years, would eat two plates of food. He’d say things like “I haven’t had a home cooked meal in years,” even if he was at your house just last week. You would laugh the loudest at his jokes. As you think about them now, you realize they weren’t funny, but you’re in love with him so it doesn’t matter.

After lunch, your parents would take care of the food and dishes, giving alone time with him. Like a young pup, you’d follow him outside on the back porch where you’d sit side by side on the creaky old swing.

“Do you cook or bake?” he asks you.

You haven’t the slightest idea of why he’d ask such a thing. You still lived with your parents. Your mom does most of the cooking. Your dad grills sometimes. “No. I get scared that I’ll burn myself.”

Suddenly, he reaches over for your left hand, the closest one to him, from your lap and holds it between his great palms. “Cold,” he whispers. He massages your fingers to revive them. “I wouldn’t want you to burn your hands. They’re so perfect… for playing.”

Anakin looks down at what he’s doing to you and his expression sours. At the time, you don’t know why. You wonder if you said or did something he doesn’t like because the mood changes instantly. He drops your hand and pats your thigh.

“You have piano hands, remember?” he reminds you. He smiles at you, and you feel secure again.

That’s exactly the thing that you always tell him. His hands spread out further than a whole octave, while you struggle to hit the two octave notes simultaneously without pulling a muscle. His fingers are long, and his palms are wide. You can’t compete with that.

You wonder what other things he’s good at with hands like those.

For the entirety of your high school existence, you pined and pined after him. He was always on your thoughts every minute of every day. You never grew sick of daydreaming about him. And on occasion that was reflected in your grades though you maintained a high GPA regardless. Every week was just your going through the motions of life mindlessly, only waiting for two short hours out of the week on Friday which was when you took lessons with him.

You lived solely for those two hours in which he gave you piano lessons free of charge. He said it was because you had such potential, but still to this day, you like to think he reciprocated some of your feelings even before he actually made a move on you.

For those two hours, you would sit right up against him on the leather cushion of the piano bench and play for him whatever pieces you were working on or things he assigned you from the previous week. He was never harsh with you even when you weren’t getting something.

You throw your hands on the keys, striking a dissonant chord that makes you both wince. Mr. Skywalker instantly pulls your hands away.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” he said with concern. “I promise you’ll get this. It just takes time. I know you practice too much as it is.”

“I want to be good! I want to be a star!” With that, you break down instantly and cry. He never minds when you cry in front of him.

“One day, you will be. I believe in you,” he soothes you, rubbing your back and kissing the top of your head as if you belong to him. He hugs you. “We can try again when you’re ready.”

“Okay,” you say, leaning against him to hear the echo of his heart. His heartbeat is sensual to you, even at sixteen. You can’t explain it. These stupid hormonal feelings you have for him are so wrong. But when you look up into his passionate eyes, you see the man you want to spend the rest of your life with. You have to marry him. You have to.

From the time you were five, you were afraid of thunder and lightning. Terrified by it actually. The fear is still with you today. But it was so much worse in middle school and high school. You started taking lessons from Anakin when you were fourteen years old. And you were still such a child then. You remembered the time it stormed so hard during your lesson that you had to spend the night at his house because it was too dangerous for your mother to come pick you up. But that also meant you couldn’t hide your abnormal fear of a thunderstorm from Anakin.

He had this giant plush rug under the piano. When you asked him about it, he said that it caught the sound. At the tail end of your lesson, the night you had to stay over, lightning struck close to his house and spooked you so much that you shrieked and slipped under the piano, curling up on that soft rug like a scared puppy.

Anakin was such a sweetheart because he followed you there.

“Hey,” he whispers, rubbing your back, “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

You cry into your arms, hiding your face. “I know! I know it’s stupid of me. I just—”

“It’s not stupid. We all have different fears.” After he says that, he lies on his back beside you. “But I won’t let the storm hurt you, okay. We can stay here all night.”

And that you did. You cowered under the grand piano in his parlor all night long. That was the first time you ever cuddled with a boy, only he was a man almost twice your age. But that didn’t bother you. And it seemed not to bother him. He let you hold onto him through the night and squeeze him a little harder when you heard thunder. It has been one of your most precious memories of your piano teacher.

You had always known Anakin could be a little jealous. Any time you would mention your school friends the air would get tense, as if he didn’t want you to have anyone else in your life but him. He never said that, but he didn’t have to. There was always rage somewhere beneath the still blueness of his eyes, but his rage was never directed towards you until you told him that Drew wanted you to be his girlfriend.

You were seventeen. And you were so excited to have your first boyfriend even if you weren’t in love with him. At least people might not tease you for still being a virgin because it wouldn’t be so obvious. Anakin never did make fun of you for your innocence. He always said that it’s okay to wait until you’re ready or for the right person.

Immediately after you share the news of your official relationship with Drew, he freezes and closes the lid to the piano keys.

His jaw is tight. His voice is tense. “Maybe... we should be done for today.” He doesn’t even acknowledge what you said, as if he’s afraid to.

But you have no one else to celebrate with. Drew is a secret you keep from them because he’s not involved in church. “Did you hear me?” you press.

He grinds his teeth hard, and you hear bone against bone. Anakin nods. “I did.”

You nudge his arm. “Well?”

“Well what?” he snaps bitterly. He turns slightly to glare at you. “You know how I feel ab—about him.”

You roll your eyes. Anakin is a dramatic guy sometimes. “Drew isn’t that bad. He can be sweet. And he’s going to take me to prom!”

Anakin rises off the piano bench and pats down his black slacks. “So, you don’t care what I think then?” He’s staring down upon you with overwhelming disapproval. The muscles of his arms bulge when he crosses them over his chest.

Palms against the leather cushion, you hold yourself up. You notice yourself trembling when you realize that he’s not teasing you. He’s very upset... with you. Why would he be—does this mean—does he feel something after all?

“Of course, I do, Mr. Skywalker.”

“I told you not to get close with him!” he shouts. You’ve never heard him raise his voice at  you. “He has bad intentions. He’s just a dumb kid. What does he know about loving you?”

You start to sob. “I’m sorry. I thought you might be... happy for me?”

He scoffs. And it sounds like you disgust him right now. “I don’t want to hear about him ever again. I don’t want to know anything about your little boyfriend. Do. You. Understand?”

Having him speak to you that way made you feel like a little girl. And you hated that feeling more than anything else. You knew that you were innocent, and you hated yourself for it because it made you feel inadequate to love the man you really wanted.

But now you’d do anything to have that innocence again. You didn’t realize at the time how free you once were. Growing up was harder than you thought it would be. It almost broke you.

You were lucky to have someone like Anakin to build you back up again, even if he was the one that tore you down that time.

After he yelled at you, you rushed out of his home as quickly as you could. The silence lasted a day. And then he drove to your house and knocked on your door. He held in his hands a bouquet of white roses and on his lips was the apology you were waiting for. 

Nothing changed between you after that. Until your next birthday came around.

Up to your eighteenth birthday, your interactions were mostly harmless. But when you turned eighteen, an official adult, the tension between you had changed. The energies you both entertained shifted and became... dare you say... sexual to a degree. Anakin seemed to treat you a little differently now that you were fair game.

To celebrate your eighteenth birthday, he was there. In fact, he was the only one you insisted that mother invite. Not Drew or any of your school friends. Just Anakin. And he had to be there because he really was your one true friend. You couldn’t imagine celebrating your birthday without him. He was always a guest at your birthday parties, but he gave you a special gift this year, one so unforgettable that sometimes you hear it clear as day.

Anakin wrote you a piano solo. One that was simple, sweet, and addicting. You told him to play it again and again. After cake and presents, you made him teach you how to play it. You were very proficient now, and often could play things just by hearing them once. But the chords he chose for your song were unique and shouldn’t have meshed so well together. But they did. Just like you and him. Unlikely friends. Star-crossed lovers in your head.

The two of you stayed at the piano all evening, messing around with the song. By the end, you both had figured out how to layer the notes and chords in an even more perfect duet. Playing piano with him was almost the best birthday gift in the world to you. But it was not what you wished for.

You wished for a kiss.

But that would mean you’d have to tell him how you felt. And you were terrified. As an adult, now you could. It was more empowering than you thought it could be.

But you never did find a chance to tell me on your birthday. You were too afraid to ruin your night with a love confession. You know he would do the right thing and reject you, but that didn’t stop you from dreaming for the impossible.

When you walked him outside to his car—you insisted—your secret birthday wish came true. Not in the way you expected. But a kiss did happen. Your piano teacher kissed you on the cheek. Your face burned the whole night through. You couldn’t sleep because you wanted to know what it meant. He had never used his lips to touch any part of you before.

Physical contact had always been an important part of your bond with Anakin since the beginning. There were always the hugs that lasted just a little too long. And he seemed to always find an excuse to hold your hand. But he was your piano teacher, and the hand-to-hand contact always felt necessary and never strange.

But following your very special birthday, you found him staring at you a little longer, a little more deeply, and he seemed to always find an excuse to touch you, not in a sexual way but in a way that led you to believe the attraction wasn’t one sided.

He’d tuck your hair behind your ears, brush the side of your arm, and sit impossibly close to you that you swore you could almost hear his heartbeat. Anakin had never been hesitant to touch you before, but if there were any boundaries before, they were forgotten by him. And you enjoyed it. His new attention made you feel special and wanted. And that was all you ever wanted.

You began to touch him too. And seek physical attention from him. You would nuzzle his arm. Slip your fingers between his. Tap your shoes against his. He’d always notice, and he always hugged you or kissed your cheek in response.

You two were getting closer than ever before. Sometimes... you would barely touch the keys, getting lost in conversation. At this point, Drew and any other boy you were interested in before might as well have been dead. There was only room in your heart for Anakin.

And you had discovered a way to tell him without using your fragile words.

You sit on the bench waiting for him to get off the phone with his mother. She called him shortly after he let you in. About ten minutes later, he comes back.

“Sorry. I was worried she was in trouble,” he says, taking his spot beside you. “Now, where were we last week?”

“We... didn’t really go over anything.”

He bites into his full lower lip with a mischievous look in his eyes. “What are you paying me for then?”

You laugh because you’ve never once paid him for his time. You nudge his thigh with yours. “Honestly, I don’t really think there’s much more you could teach me.”

He raises a brow. “Oh really?”

You nod. “Actually, I’ve been writing something for you.”

His jaw lowers, and his mouth hangs open slightly. “How long have you kept this secret?”

“Since my birthday.”

He slips his arm around your back and rests his hand on your hip. “I’m impressed. Show me?”

You gulp heavily. That had been the plan today. It is ready for him. He’d never judge you even if it were bad. But you know that it’s not. You know that he’ll know what this piece means. He knows you too well. He’s too perceptive of everything. You wrote it in his favorite key, C minor.

With your hands a little shaky, your fingers glide softly across the piano and press down powerfully in chords. Through music, you profess your love. Anakin sits beside you and waits for you to finish. When you do, he’s waiting, staring with tears thickening his dark eyelashes. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t say anything, but you know... he knows how you feel.

You tug on his shirt, drawing him closer. A war of heart and mind reflects on his face. He’s doubting what he wants. His resistance is half-hearted. It isn’t long before he scoops you up in his arms and kisses you. This time his mouth is on your lips, wetting them, and tugging them apart to fill you with his tongue.

Drew was never this good. His mouth was sloppy and tight. Anakin kisses like he’s done this a thousand times before. And he kisses like he wants you. Like he’s wanted you for such a long time, despite how wrong you both know that is.

He holds you down in his lap, and you hug him tightly, carding your fingers through his dreamy hair. You start to feel lightheaded because you haven’t been able to breathe, but you don’t want to stop him. If you stop him, he might think and realize that he doesn’t want you anymore.

But you’re dying. Turning blue. You tap his shoulder. And he stops devouring you. His lips sparkle when he smiles. “Too much for you, baby?”

You sharply inhale, finally catching your breath. You shake your head. You want more. You need it. More isn’t even enough.

You spend the whole lesson entangled with one another until your mother comes to pick you up.

For the next month, that’s all you did. Kiss and kiss and kiss. Breathe and breathe and breathe. And kiss some more. You wondered why he was waiting to take you to his bed. You wanted that with him, but he never asked you to go that far. He seemed afraid. Even when his affection was overflowing in passion as you always knew it would be, it was clear that he was holding himself back. Did he need you to tell him what to do?

Your make out sessions extended beyond just your lesson time. Whenever he would come over to your house, he would go upstairs with you to your bedroom, and you’d end up tangled in the sheets. Though with every item of clothing on. Your parents never suspected anything was happening to their young, virtuous daughter. They trusted him completely. And so did you. You would have done anything he asked of you no matter the risks.

Even at church, he’d find a way to get you alone. In the girl’s bathroom. During the preacher’s sermon.

Anakin lifts you onto the sink and spreads your legs out so that he can fit between them and get close to you. Thumb under your chin, he tilts your face up to his. He grins before going in for a kiss.

Your lavender baby doll dress rides up your thighs as he inches closer. He presses up against the crotch of your panties. The dampness is cold against your tender flesh. His erection only grows as the friction between you builds, your bodies rubbing against each other in a clothed attempt to satisfy yourselves sexually.

And now you’re glad you waited and didn’t mess around with Drew like he wanted when you were together. Because that means Anakin could be your very first.

He freezes up when you try to unbuckle his big belt. Anakin looks at you strangely, almost disturbed by your actions.

You lean to his ear and whisper, “I. Want. It.” You had thought your seductive voice would be enough to cast him off the edge of all hesitation, that he’d bend to your will and give you what you want.

But all you did was kill the fire.

Head shaking, he backs away. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

And you didn’t see him for nearly a month after that. But you don’t regret what you said. You were tired of just endless make out sessions. It seemed so immature, and you knew you were ready for something real.

All of those memories, those beautiful capsules of your favorite times with Anakin, are the reason you find yourself on his doorstep, a quarter till midnight in the pouring rain.

Complete desperation.

You took your moms car without permission just to drive over despite the threat of a storm. And you’re still deathly afraid of them. But you came anyway. Because tomorrow, you’re leaving for college. You might not get another chance to fix things. Death would be better than living another moment without him.

“You haven’t been answering my texts or my calls, Anakin.”

The door is barely cracked open, just enough that you can see his pale face. Dark circles surround his rainy eyes.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he mutters, not even making eye contact.

Thunder echoes behind you. The wind blows your hair around. Leaves rustle, filling the silence between you both. It’s going to storm soon. You had been stupid enough to drive to his house just before a storm. But you couldn’t take not knowing what had happened to him and why he was dodging your calls.

The eyes that used to linger a little too long won’t acknowledge you even as you stand in front of him.

“Why are you being like this? This isn’t you!” you nearly scream. You’re so afraid that he’s not only pushing you away but also ejecting you from his life completely, as if the memories you share can be erased. He’s engrained in almost every memory you have.

“It can’t happen. Go away.”

He tries to close the door on you, but you stick the toe of your right shoe in the crack before it shuts.

“Please… please don’t do this.”

Anakin’s eyes are bloodshot as if he’s been crying. “What I want isn’t right. I can’t do it. I don’t know if I could live with myself after.”

Does he really hate me so much? Is that the truth? Perhaps it’s your naivety, but you won’t let him go so easily. You have suffered in silence for nearly a decade, pining after him, waiting for him to reciprocate the depth of your feelings. Your hands shake as you reach out to him. If he would just… hold your hand like he used to, then maybe everything would be alright.

Your fingertips brush against each other. You feel the spark instantly, and it travels down your spine, leaving you wanting to touch him more.

“What about what I want?”

Anakin blinks several times before he speaks. It’s as if he didn’t consider your feelings in this decision. “You’re… not in a position to see things clearly. You’re—”

“Don’t say it!” you exclaim, squeezing your fists. “I’m not a child. I’m all grown up. And you know it. You see it.”

Anakin sighs a long time, his eyes scanning down your body. “Of course, I see it. But that doesn’t make it okay.”

Though you can never overpower him, you still try to force the door open. “Just let me in. We can talk. Just let me talk to you.”

Anakin’s frown is firm, and his stillness enforces that he’s not backing down. “I don’t know. If I let you in… if you cry… I’ll want to hold you. Then things might happen. I don’t know if I can control myself around you.”

Hugging yourself, you gaze upwards, into eyes that finally meet yours. His eyes reveal his mourning, his grief, his lust. It’s the latter that sends shivers through your body. The knowing that he wants you is more than you can take.

“I don’t want you to.”

There.

You said it.

You have told him exactly what you want. And if you hadn’t made it painfully obvious before, he knows now that you’re no longer thinking like a little girl.

Following a sigh of defeat, he backs away from the door, and you move in.

All the lights are off in his home. He must have been sitting in the dark like a vampire. The piano lid is open. He never left it open unless he was actively playing.

Anakin strides across the room to seat himself on the piano bench. He taps the spot next to him. “You’re right.... We should talk. Talk. Nothing more.”

Sitting beside him here feels like the most natural thing in the world. Here, you’re not afraid to speak from the heart. He’d never judge you even if he disagrees. But you’re not so sure he disagrees this time.

He wants you too.

“I couldn’t let you go back. I can’t believe you drove in the rain.”

You shrug. “It’s just rain. The storm hasn’t—”

The windows flash like they would in a horror flick, and thunder comes after. With a whimper, you grab onto his arm.

“I can drive you back home once we talk,” he says emotionlessly, gently pulling you off him.

But you double down and grab his arm, tugging him back again. “Don’t push me away.”

He doesn’t do it again. He stills. And sighs. “That’s the last thing that I want to do.”

With your chin resting on his sleeve, you look up at him, wide-eyed. “Just kiss me like you always do. And don’t think about it.” You stretch your arm out and fiddle with the top button of his dress shirt. “I’m not thinking.”

His chest rises and falls with his breaths. He doesn’t stop you as you unbutton his shirt.

When you rise on your knees, you’re at eye level. He’s so much bigger than you even now. He makes you feel so small. Holding onto his arm, you lean close and peck his clean-shaven cheek. He winces as if you pricked him with a needle.

“Angel, I shouldn’t.”

You kiss him again, closer to his lips, almost tasting him. “It’s me. Don’t you want me?”

Finally, he turns and looks in your eyes. Then at your mouth. “Don’t tell anyone. You... understand how this might look. What they might say about—”

“I’m good at keeping secrets,” you whisper. “What’s one more?”

You finish unbuttoning his shirt for him. Taking care of him feels good. You run your fingertips down his chest and his abdomen. His bare skin. It’s soft and warm. Suddenly, he grabs your wrist.

“Cold hands,” he murmurs. He takes your hands between them. He rubs his hands over your fast to warm them with friction.

“Sorry.”

Still rubbing your hands, he stands and leads you to the back of his grand piano near the flashing window.

Any other time, you would be trembling in fear because of the loud storm, but tonight you’re trembling because of the new feelings bubbling inside you. You’ve never been so aroused before.

“Can I hold you?” he says as pulls you into his embrace.

You can hear his steady heartbeat and feel it pumping right against your sensitive ear. Your piano teacher holds you against him and tangles his talented fingers in your hair. He sniffs your neck before taking a bite. His teeth pinch your flesh, and his tongue soothes you. The pain he leaves in several spots along your neck means that he’s marked you as his.

Your own heart is racing at lightning speed. You can’t think. In his arms, you’re helpless to his whims. You need him to tell you what to do. All you want is to please him.

“I’ll do anything,” you whisper to him so weakly you question if he hears you.

Anakin slowly unzips the back of your dress. “Consider this a teaching moment.” His voice doesn’t sound like it usually does. The undertones are sultry and possessive. “I can’t tell you how many times I wanted to—” He stops to pull down your dress, and his eyes wander over your pretty body. You wore transparent lace underwear and a matching bralette. He can see everything you hide from the rest of the world.

And he tells you, “You’re perfection.”

That makes you want to kiss him so badly. You try to lift yourself to reach his lips, but he’s too tall.

“Be patient,” he chides. “I want you to lay down first.” He guides you under the piano.

You lie down on your back atop the giant rug. Instantly, relaxation takes over as you remember all the times you used to lie here with him, hiding from the storm. Never did you think this would be the place where you’d give yourself to him. This must be meant to be.

He follows you after fully undressing. His body is every inch a man’s.  His size makes you feel so small. He runs the risk of crushing you with his weight.

Lying on his side, he looks down at you, watching his own fingers running under the elastic of your lacy panties. “Take these off and spread your legs.” He whispers kisses to your cheek. “You can do that for me, can’t you?”

Nodding, you do as you’re told and wiggle out of your underwear. He snatches them from you and crunches them in his hands before throwing them over his shoulder. You proceed with fanning your legs open. The air is frigid as it touches you.

Anakin is looking where no one else has. “I’m so proud of you for waiting. Saving yourself just for me.”

You gasp as he kisses you between your legs. He kisses you there for a long time. It feels strange and wonderful. The feeling building inside you makes you moan and your toes curl. You feel so good your body aches. You hear your own heartbeat. You breathe but can’t find relief. Nothing soothes the need inside you but his mouth, his lips, his tongue. And before long you hit the breaking point, pleasure storming through your body from your place beneath him. Your cries are dampened by the thunderous sounds outside, but he hears you. He stops to look at your face. Making eye contact with him heightens the vulnerability of the situation. The intense way he looks at you burns. He notices every little change in your expression.

Anakin knows he made you feel good, but he still asks, “Did you like that?” He brushes the wild strands of hair away from your face. You know you’re precious to him. He sweetly kisses your forehead. “I like your taste.”

Your cheeks are seared by that comment. You cover your eyes, not wanting to let him see how he’s affecting you. “I did like it.”

“Do you want to do more?” He kisses your lips this time, and you taste yourself. “I don’t want to push you if you’re not ready.”

“I am ready!” you lift your head up and cup his cheek. “Don’t make me wait longer. I’m leaving tomorrow.” You bite your lip, knowing how dangerous what you’re about to say is because of who you’re saying it to. “Do you really want some college guy to be the one who gets me first?”

As if trying to reject the image you gave his mind, he closes his eyes and tightens his jaw. “No,” is his short answer. From the way his lips are pressed together, you know he wants to say more, but he’s saving you from his own selfish anger.

“Me either.” You rub his cheek with your thumb. “Anakin,” it feels right to call him by his first name instead of Mr. Skywalker, “I’ve waited for you. I always knew this would happen.”

He chuckles lightly. “I never gave you permission to use my name. Don’t forget—” he grunts as he slides two of his fingers between your slick folds and pushes them inside, “your manners, young one.”

These same fingers were the ones that rested atop yours when you were first learning to play piano. They pointed to the right key when you played the wrong note. They pointed to the sheet music to guide you along for all these years. They held your hands when they were cold.

And now he’s using them to teach you something new. But he’s just as skilled at fingering you as he is with music. You’re like his new instrument. He’s plucking all the right strings in just the right way to make you cry out for him. With your body pliant, he controls when you come. He doesn’t make you wait for it. He uses his thumb too and nudges until you come. It’s wetter than the last. And he instructs you to lick his fingers off when he’s done.

“Do you want to keep going?” he asks again. “Don’t hate me for asking.” He hangs his head a little.

What he doesn’t understand is how insatiable he’s caused you to be. There were so many times you thought you might explode from how desperately you wanted him. But now it’s okay if that does happen.

“Keep going. Please,” you beg. You’re not ready to stop. You’ve waited for this moment since you were fourteen years old. If it were up to you, you’d live here forever.

“If that’s what you really want,” Anakin moves from lying at your side to settling himself between your legs.

“It is,” you reassure him. Holding onto his neck, you pull yourself up a bit. “Can you kiss me too?”

He grins before pushing you down, his large hand spread out over your soft stomach, and he chases your lips as you fall. You’re partially distracted by his mouth as his cock slides inside you. You had expected it to be more of a challenge, all things considered. Throughout high school, your friends always complained about how much it hurt their first time. Some girls bled too. And that had scared you, which is one of the reasons you never took Drew up on his many offers of a “good time.” Deep down you knew he wouldn’t treat you right. But Anakin clearly is experienced with having sex. Maybe he wasn’t as alone as you thought he had been all those years.

This being your very first time, it does sting when he fills you completely, his bony hips pressed against yours. You feel the tightness and the stretch. But you enjoy how it feels. You’re so close to passing out just because this is as close as you can get to someone.

Anakin rocks in and out slowly. Maybe he can feel that you’re tired. He’s being gentle with you despite how much he wants to rail your cunt to shreds. You can tell when he’s holding himself back. He has that weary, pained look in his rainy eyes. A part of you wants to tell him that it’s okay. Let go. But you both know that you couldn’t handle the full extent of his lust.

“Can I come inside you?” he asks before sinking his teeth into a bruise along your neck.

Short of breath, you answer, “I said... anything.”

“Okay,” his shaky voice whispers. He buries his face into the curve of your neck and moans your name into your skin. He pulls your hair gently as he finishes, his heat spreading through your core. It’s so much that you feel it leaking out.

After, he holds you there all night long. He doesn’t let you leave. And you wouldn’t want to escape.

The three words he says to you as you leave his house the morning after, you realize that he’s lied to you all the years you’ve known him.

The piano isn’t his only love or his only obsession.

It’s an outlet, and yet a mask for his sin nature which you understand more deeply than any other girl ever will.

He’s kept his real obsession hidden from everyone but you.

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#dead dove do not eat #divider by chilumitos #best viewed in dark mode :) #loveliestlovelygirl #lovely fics #tangle of strings #pianoteacher!anakin #student!reader #anakin #anakin skywalker #anakin smut #anakin skywalker smut #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin fanfiction #anakin x reader smut #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin x you #anakin skywalker x you #anakin x fem!reader #anakin oneshot

[natalievoncatte]

This was it, the moment of truth. The plan was going flawlessly, and in a few minutes, Lena would have what she needed to complete and launch Non Nocere. She was about to save the world.

(You mean your master plan, Lex’s voice snickered in her head)

Lena shook it away, as she had so many times already. When Kara glanced at her, Lena played it off as the cold. She was, after all, standing outside in the actual Arctic, brutally aware of how underdressed she was even in a heavy woolen coat and doubled up leggings.

Even here at the roof of the world, Kara was gorgeous. The sunlight glared off the ice and yet it only seemed to make her more radiant, her sun kissed skin practically glowing, blue eyes the color of the sea darkened by a distant storm.

“I’ll never understand why your cousin built this place here,” said Lena.

“He didn’t. There was an ancient Kryptonian outpost here from long, long ago, when my people were more expansionist. They abandoned any plans to colonize other solar systems thousands of years ago.”

Lena looked at her, damning her own curiosity. Kara, for her part, looked far away.

“Why?” said Lena.

“They decided they’d done enough damage to their own world.”

Lena blinked. Turning away, Kara inserted the key into the locking mechanism and unleashed a series of heavy grinding sounds as the doors parted.

Within, it was warmer.

(At last I walk these hallowed halls, a conquerer)

Not by much, though.

Lena drew in a breath and looked around, allowing herself a moment of unrepentant awe. The ceiling arched high overhead where the crystalline walls joined to form a peak, giving the Fortress of Solitude the air of a great cathedral. This gave a reference to the statue of a handsome man and beautiful woman, pressed side by side with joined hands and expressions of fear and hope as they gazed off into some distant star.

“That’s Jor-El and Lara, my aunt and uncle.”

Superman’s parents, Lena thought.

“Don’t your family have statues?”

“Kal-El created the memorial,” said Kara. “He didn’t know about my family until I told him.”

Lena huffed.

“I have a hologram of my mother,” said Kara. “It’s really just a computer interface. She doesn’t… I remember them in my own way.”

Kara cleared her throat, and Lena saw tears welling up in her eyes. A twist of pain turned in her stomach and her hand fell on Kara’s shoulder.

(That’s it. Play to her emotions. Use them like she used yours.)

“I hate this place,” Kara whispered.

Lena pulled her hand back.

“Why?”

“I thought I’d be excited to show you. There’s just so much I’ve always wanted to share, but this place is a tomb. When I’m in here, it’s like home, but not. It’s just a reminder of everything I’ve lost, and it makes me feel sick how much I want to go back.”

“Of course you want to go back,” said Lena. “It was your home.”

Kara let out a low, shuddering breath.

“It was, but it’s not anymore. I’ve lived on Earth now longer than I did on Krypton.”

She was looking up at the statues, or past them, perhaps. Lena couldn’t help but study her profile, the curve of her jaw and the soft lines of her face. How could someone who could crush coal into diamonds with her hands and kill with a glance be so angelic?

(Such an innocent face to hide such betrayal)

Lena swallowed, trying to still herself and tamp down the sympathy she felt.

“I envy him.”

“Who?”

“Superman. My cousin. He’s so lucky. He only gets the good part, the blessing from my uncle and the special heritage. For him, this place is joyful. It’s the answer to all his questions and full of strange wonders and joys. He tries to mourn them but how can he mourn something he’s never known?”

“I’m sure it must be sad for him, wondering what they were like.”

“He never knew them to disappoint him, either. It want his father that created Medusa. Sometimes I just wish I could forget it all. This place reminds me I don’t really have a home.”

Lena turned to her sharply.

Kara sighed. “My home is still out there. Argo, I mean. It’s basically a new Krypton. I could go if I wanted. Kal is there with…” she trailed off.

“Lois,” Lena added. “I pieced it together pretty quickly after you told me your identity. He’s Clark Kent, isn’t he?”

“You’ve always been too smart,” said Kara, and she sounded so genuine, so admiring, that it made Lena briefly wish she didn’t have to do this. That it had been real.

“I can’t go back there. I can’t be part of that society anymore, where people don’t get any choices in what they do, or…” Kara looked directly at Lena, dragging out the pause a beat too long. “Who they love.”

“What do you mean?”

“On Krypton, we had what I guess you’d call arranged marriages.”

“So you’d never have been able to be with Mon-El.”

“I wouldn’t have been allowed to choose him, no,” said Kara, “though thinking back, really thinking about it, I don’t think I would have in the end.”

Lena looked at Kara, who still stared up.

“Why?”

“We were only together because…” she let out a long sigh. “Because I don’t have a home anymore, not really. I can’t go back to my own people and I don’t belong here.”

“Of course you have a home, Kara,” said Lena, lightly touching Kara’s arm.

“You’d don’t know what it’s like,” said Kara, choking back a small sob. “No matter what path I take I have to kill part of myself. I can’t be Kryptonian and human, no matter how hard I try. The Kryptonian side keeps taking things away from me. I can never be my whole self with someone.”

Lena swallowed.

“Just look what it did to us,” said Kara, turning to Lena. “I almost lost you because of it, because of the lies I let myself tell.”

“Kara,” Lena lied, “I’ve forgiven you. We don’t have to re-litigate this.”

“Maybe you have, but I’ve never apologized to you properly. I’ve just been trying to smooth it over and fill in the cracks and I know how hard you’ve tried but it’s not enough for me to just let you do all the work.”

“Kara…”

“I was such an asshole,” Kara said, and Lena blinked. In any other circumstances, she’d have made a joke and chided Kara for her unusual profanity.

“I mean about the Kryptonite, but about other things, too. I shouldn’t have treated you one way while I was in the suit and another way when I wasn’t.”

“I’m still not sure which one was real,” Lena blurted.

(No! No, what are you doing? You have to make her think all is forgiven so she’ll take you to the armory!)

“They both were,” said Kara. “I was angry about the Kryptonite, and I was scared. I admit it, Lena. As much as I trusted you then and I trust you now, I didn’t know what to think. My best friend was making a poison that only hurts me.”

“I didn’t know it was you,” said Lena. “If I’d known…”

Kara swallowed.

“I know.”

“If I’d known, I would have come to you about Sam. I would have come to you about a lot of things, Kara.”

Kara tried to blink back tears and failed. Something about seeing her cry openly while wearing the suit made her seem so small and delicate.

“I wish I could be human,” said Kara. “I wish I could just be the person you thought I was and we could just be us.”

(Us? Lex snarled. You’re nothing more than a dog to her, that can be put down when she’s done with you!)

Lena’s throat tightened and tears stung her eyes.

“You know, when I was fighting Red Daugher, Lex’s clone of me…”

Lena looked at her sharply.

“I… I couldn’t beat her. I was losing. She… she killed me. My heart stopped. I was gone.”

Lena choked out a soft sob, unable to restrain it.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I knew I couldn’t go. I had so much to stay for. I don’t know how I did it but I dragged myself back from the other side, I just… I thought of Alex and J’onn and all my friends and everything I have to live for, everything here, on Earth, my home. Even that wasn’t enough.”

“What was?”

“You,” said Kara. “I couldn’t go without making amends with you, or at least trying. You’re my lodestar. I’ll always come back to you eventually.”

(She’s just trying to keep you in line. It’s a lie. It’s always a lie, she’s all lies!)

“I’m glad. I need someone around to safe me from assassination attempt number 547,” said Lena. The joke turned to sand in her throat, her voice on the edge of breaking.

“I’ve spent weeks trying to think of a magic combination of words that will make it better, but there isn’t one, is there? I can only tell you how sorry I am that I did what I did and promise I never will again. I’m so sorry I hurt you. It’s the worse thing I’ve ever done.”

“Kara…”

(Just let her trust you. You’re almost here. Myriad is here. The answer is here. Fuck her sentimental bullshit. She-)

Kara slowly reached out and caressed the back of her fingers against Lena’s tear-stained cheek.

“It’s crazy how dying made me realize so many things.”

“Like what?”

“All the things I never knew I wanted to do, until I knew I’d never do them.”

Lena swallowed, hard, fighting the urge to lean into her hand and press the warm skin to her own.

“Like what?”

Kara leaned in, filling Lena’a space, and Lena was acutely aware that she was the only warmth in this frozen place. Kara’s other arm swept around her, Kara’s fingers spread wide across Lena’s back.

“Is this okay?”

(No! NO NO NO!)

“Yes.”

(You can’t do this! You killed me, Lena! You killed your only brother for her and she’s a liar and a-)

Kara kissed Lena the way she did everything: Fully and completely. As Kara drew them together, Lena tipped back just a touch, as Kara seemed to tower over her, surrounding her in a warm embrace. Their lips met softly, chastely. Lena felt like she was in middle school again. It was as if she’d been rewound back to before her first clumsy, lip-pinching kiss in a boarding school bathroom.

She wasn’t sure whether it was Kara who deeepened the kiss, or her. In the end, it didn’t matter. Kara escalated by degrees, pausing as if to murmur an apology at any moment. Lena grasped her like was the only solace in a raging storm, feeling those steel cable muscles flexing beneath her suit.

Then she squeaked in Lena’s mouth when Lena grabbed a handful of ass, and Lena giggled.

“Do you want this too?” said Kara.

(You killed me!)

Yes, Lex, and I would again.

“Yes,” Lena admitted, and it was as if some great heavy weight had fallen from her shoulders.

She threw herself into Kara, shivering.

“It’s cold in here.”

Kara pulled Lena tight, wrapping them both in her cape.

“Let’s get what we came for and go home.”

#supercorp #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl #supercorp fanfic #lena luthor #kara danvers #kara x lena #karlena #supergirl fanfic #alternate take on 5x8 #ficlet #alternate take on tremors #yet another first kiss #yet another love confession #the abyss gazes also #the abyss sees you’re a dumbass #idiots in love #lena luthor is secretly soft #Kara is openly soft #softcorp #people don’t scheme to conquer the world because they’re just friends

[sheisjoeschateau]

"Oh, so we DO love Steve... | PART VII

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ SERIES MASTERLIST ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader enemies to lovers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, S2-S4, post S4 universe hot-take, end-of-the-world / dystopian setting, ugly fights turned smut (...but with hella plot). 18+

CHAPTER VII WARNINGS/NOTES: t.w.'s - strong language, ruthless banter, mentions of death, injuries, end-of-the-world terror talk, newfound shared codependency (but like it's healthy imo also it's valid lmao) jealousy. 18+

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this chapter is honestly a gahdamn MF feast. a favorite of mine NGL, for a multitude of reasons. Murray high key pops the fuck off like the boss bitch he is and takes us on a long lecture of a journey to visit the lordt of truth bombs. Eddie has zero chill. Robin is the bestest-best-fwend and platonic-with-a-capital-p soulmate to our boy. Dustin is a dingus. LUCAS BE SEEIN' THINGS. Hopper is Joppering. Nancy and Jonathan get a clue. Mama Steve and the kids are in full swing. We get a cutie cameo from Harrington's signature yellow sweater.

And our lovebirds finallyyyy......well.....say the magic word that they're feeling hehehe:)

ISSA LONG ONE. PROOFREAD UNTIL MY EYES BLED. IF THERE ARE STILL TYPOS, SORRY BOUT IT. 18+

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Steve knew he would have to face downstairs again at some point before the morning.  Definitely before everyone else went to bed.  But he couldn’t bring himself to.  Not yet.

Because right now, you were fast asleep in his arms.  Laid carefully on your back for the sake of your bad shoulder, with your head turned into his chest.  Steve was propped up on an elbow, facing you with his other hand gliding his fingertips to trace your arm draped across your chest.  He drew shapes up your arm, now adorned with his yellow crewneck, up to your jawline so that he could tuck your hair behind your ear. 

And all the while, he just stared at your chest – comforted by the steady rise and fall.  It kept him sane.  It kept his eyes open.  It kept him from letting the nightmare return.  You slept so peacefully, he might never have known you’d been dead in his arms earlier that day.

“You are beautiful, Steve Harrington.”

Your words from last night ran through his mind on a loop, like a VHS tape on replay.

“I can’t stand you.”

You’d said it in the warmest voice Steve had ever heard in his life.  Somehow, those words meant more to him than I love you.  Because when he said it back, he realized it meant the same thing. 

“I can’t stand you either.” 

I love you too.

Steve carefully placed his forehead against your temple, eyes fluttering shut and breathing you in.  Something danced inside of his stomach.  It ached, it burned and it warned him of all the things he feared feeling the most for anyone except the girl downstairs who had made love seem lost.  He never wanted those feelings to return again for anyone else but her – Nancy.  And yet here he was: every one of those feelings rushed back tenfold, for the girl upstairs in his guest bedroom lying beside him.  The girl who had ruined the chance at a life for him with Nancy Wheeler.  The girl he swore was the reason he was robbed of all things good.  Robbed of love.  True love.

But he no longer loved Nancy Wheeler. 

Steve Harrington loved you.

Downstairs, everyone is quiet but productive. 

Joyce is organizing the last of the stashed supplies.  The kids are eating some bowls of hot soup, served up by Murray.  He had to stay busy and shake off the frayed nerves.   Otherwise, he’d go berserk.  Completely berserk.  Joyce gently helped him but knew better than to baby him.  She was surprised to find Erica walking over, offering to help serve up some glasses of water or sodas for everyone.  To everyone’s surprise, they operated well.  Like chef and sous-chef.  What an unlikely duo.

Hopper and El were talking in the living room about the potential new plan, and Mike moved from the table where he sat with the kids and teens to join them.

Steve could hear them all down there, the ambience muffled on the other side of the closed door separating you both from the rest of the world outside of each other's arms.  He could have fallen asleep right there with you if he let himself.

But a soft knock on the door made him crane his head to look towards the source of the noise.  With one last look at you, he carefully slipped his arm out from underneath you.  You never stirred, the rhythm of your breathing still intact and your mind lost in sleep.

Steve wasn’t sure who to expect on the other side of the door.  But as he ran a hand through his hair, he found himself not caring. 

Turns out, it was Murray.  He stood with two bowls of hot soup, now staring into the eyes of Steve Harrington — who he begrudgingly noted still looked dashing, despite his towel-dried bedhead and tired eyes.

Seriously, no one should make a t-shirt and sweatpants look that good. 

Your uncle cleared his throat.  “Uhh, I made some soup.”

Steve gave him a timid but grateful nod, taking one of the bowls.  Glancing back over his shoulder, Murray followed Harrington’s gaze — back at you, sleeping in bed. 

“She’s still out,” Steve told him. 

Murray nodded.  “I’ll keep hers warm downstairs.”  An awkward silence fell over Murray and Steve, but finally your uncle continued.  “Listen, why not come down?  Let her rest, get yourself some water or — a sandwich maybe, to go with the soup.  Erica says she’ll make them but I'm reallllly not feeling confident about that.”

Steve allowed himself a soft chuckle at that, biting his lip and glancing back at you. 

“She’s alright,” your uncle assured Steve.  “Trust me.  I keep having to remind myself that, too.”

Steve was glad that the two of them could relate on that — endlessly worrying about you.  He was also glad that your uncle wasn’t giving him shit for it, and honestly Murray was extremely pleasant when he wasn’t being an ass.  It took Steve by surprise.  No wonder you two were related.  With a reluctant sigh, Steve agreed to follow Murray downstairs for some more grub.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Steve’s eyes first landed on Nancy sitting with Robin and Joyce.  She looked over at Steve with her big blue eyes, which danced with longing.  Steve’s doe brown eyes didn’t return it, but he lightly smiled in her direction anyway.  Robin immediately perked up, jogging over to Steve from her seated position on the floor.  She grabbed him for a tight hug, and he made sure not to spill his bowl of soup.

“Sorry sorry, I’ve just — been worried sick.”

“S’okay, Robs,” Steve murmured, appreciating the comfort.  She pulled back to look at him, giving him a sad smile.  She wanted to ask him a million questions, but knew it best to save it for later.

“C’mon,” Robin told him, tilting her head towards the kitchen.  “Let’s go grab some crackers or something to go with that soup, which you need to eat.  Don’t even think about not eating, Steve.  I’m serious, okay?”

Steve listened to her keep rambling on as they walked into the kitchen, where Erica and Lucas were bickering about PB&J’s, and Murray stepped in to take back his title as head chef.  Eddie and Jonathan were sitting at the dining table, clearly in deep conversation but ceasing once they noticed them walking in.  Jonathan gave him a pitying look, while Eddie flashed a dopey grin to try and hide whatever serious talk was just going down.

Dustin, Mike and Will all rounded the corner as Steve moved to sit at the bar.  They all sat next to him happily.  YAY, MOM’S HOME.

Steve ruffled Dustin’s hair absentmindedly as he sipped on his soup and stared down at his spoon.  Erica was shoving a very haphazard looking sandwich in front of him while Lucas told him he’d spit it out after the first bite, which sent all the kids into a frenzy of bickering, lighthearted insults and witty comebacks.  Steve sighed, content as he ate several mouthfuls of the sandwich while listening to his kids squabble.

Jonathan was shaking his head over in the corner, observing this.  “Guy’s a hero to those kids,” he murmured, only loud enough for Eddie to hear. 

“Babysitter turned full-time mom turned hero,” Eddie smirks, amused.  “Dude’s a legend.”

Jonathan scoffs, amused but also not.  “Wasn’t always...”

Eddie clocks what he means by that.  He knew King Steve, too.  But Eddie can see a twinge of something else in Joanthan’s eyes, surprised to see it.  Jealousy.  It’s subtle.  Not toxic, or even remotely a threat. 

That is, until Jonathan sees Nancy moving to take a sandwich from Erica — her eyes wandering over to Steve and the kids.  She looks enchanted, melancholy.  Is she sad?  Why is she sad?

…why is she sad looking at Steve?

Jonathan’s brow furrows.  Eddie decides he better speak up and interrupt whatever he’s thinking.  Because he sees it too.  Uh oh.

“Trust me, he was a dick.  I know.  Told him so myself.”  Eddie tries to make light of it, grinning.  “But I think sometimes…some folks just need a big thump on the head.  Shit, I did.  I used to run away from alllllll my problems.  Hell, I…I’ve even had my share of making others feel small, just so I can feel big.  Not in a bad way, though.  Never mean.  Just…immature.  Y’know?  Point is, I’ve been there too.  Maybe not as big a dick as Harrington…”  He snorted.  “No pun intended.”

Jonathan whipped his head in Eddie’s direction.  What did that mean?

Eddie quickly tried to cover up his reference to the Hawkins High heartthrob’s manhood.  “I just mean, I just mean — like — we’ve all been dicks.  You know?  Big ones.  Small ones.  Medium…sized…ones.”

He counted at least 5 perplexed blinks from Jonathan.  Eddie sighed, exasperated with himself.  “The point, the point.  We uhh…we live and we learn.  Right?”

Jonathan finally let his tense shoulders loosen up at that, but he glanced back at Nancy – who was still watching Steve as she got herself a glass of water and letting Robin ramble to her.  And Jonathan also watched Steve, who was now telling Dustin to share the box of crackers with everyone and not hog them from everybody. 

It began to click for Jonathan.  The longing stares.  The unusually strained affection between him and Nancy, ever since he got back.  He knew that was partially his fault, if not entirely his fault, given him pulling away from her after moving to California.  But then he got back to Hawkins, and realized the second he saw her that he’d been a fool to think he would ever be better off without her, or convince himself that she could be better off without him.  One look at her made it all go away.  They say distance makes the heart grow fonder, and Jonathan was definitely aware of that now.

But had it made Nancy’s heart grow fonder, too?  For Jonathan?

…or had distance made her heart grow fonder for someone else…

Someone else who she had distanced herself from once before, when she found love and comfort in Jonathan Byers’ arms.  Harrington had been away from Nancy when she was around Byers, and then Byers was away from Nancy when the world went to shit again, putting her back around Harrington again.  No Byers in sight.

…was this karma?  Jonathan Byers was beginning to wonder that.  Was this what he got for so confidently whisking Wheeler away from Steve back in high school?  Is this what he got for thinking he was safe?

…maybe that is what Steve meant when screaming at him earlier, as they tried to pump you back to life.

“DON’T YOU DARE FUCKING STOP.”  Jonathan would never forget the way that Steve’s sounded as he spewed at him.  Broken, anguished and betrayed.

“IT’S NOT WORKING,” Jonathan had wept bitterly.  “IT’S TOO LATE.”

When Nancy had chosen Jonathan, Steve never got mad.  He never got mad at either of them.  He told Nancy he got it; that it was okay.  And he never said anything to Byers about it.  Next time they ran into each other, it was just tense silence.  Steve might have picked a fight with Jonathan once before, that damn morning in the alleyway when Will was still missing.  But that was 2 years ago now, and it felt childish compared to everything that had happened since then.  Steve’s anger then was so subdued to what it could have been, and he never explored anger towards Jonathan once he had successfully managed to take his girl.

But the way that Steve Harrington looked at Jonathan now, while you were dead beneath their hands, was fueled by anger.  Red hot and flaming.  He looked ready to finally unleash on Jonathan, ready to blame him for his existence and how it only brought Steve grief.  For once, Steve Harrington looked rightfully angry with Jonathan Byers for being the source of his pain.  Steve looked ready to punch him square in the jaw and beat him up the way he’d had his own face beat up by not just Byers, but also Billy Hargrove and the Russians.

“DON’T SAY THAT.  NO ONE GAVE UP ON YOUR BROTHER, YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST GIVE UP ON US NOW?  THINK ANY OF US WANTED TO STOP WHEN WE THOUGHT IT WAS TOO LATE?  FUCK YOU, BYERS.  FUCK YOU.”

Jonathan deserved it.  He completely deserved it.  All of it.  It had been a long time coming, and while it was over 2 years past due…he took it.  All of it.  Even what was still left unsaid.  Jonathan let Steve verbally rip him to shreds before Eddie took over and brought you back to life with Steve instead of him.

And that’s why now, as Jonathan watched Nancy catch him staring at her — looking caught as she tried to give him a smile — he let it happen.  He just gave her a reluctant smile back, accepting his fate.  Because now, after what he had seen today, he realized that Steve wasn’t even a threat.  Maybe a month or so ago, he would have been.  But that wasn’t the case now, which he only knew after seeing the way that Steve clung to you and sobbed uncontrollably over your lifeless body – then afterwards, when you were alive again. 

Steve no longer pined for Nancy Wheeler.  He pined for you. 

Not for long, though.  Honestly, it was as clear as day that whatever was going on between the two of you was mutual.  The way you held Steve earlier, comforted him — assuring him that it was alright, you were alright — and how you stroked his leg in the living room before he helped you upstairs and disappeared for a couple of hours into your assigned guest room… Jonathan knew, along with Eddie, that Steve Harrington’s heart was in your hands, and yours was his. 

It’s what Jonathan and Eddie had brought up at the table.  Not the whole “why hasn’t Steve unleashed his anger on me until today” aspect of things.  But the fact that you and Steve, who seemingly could not stand each other, now seemed like a pair.  

Nancy moved to sit next to Jonathan, who awkwardly poked at his soup bowl and did his best to fake a smile.  Eddie watched them, knowing.  Man, he could really use one of his guitars right now to pluck out the tension…

Lucas was saying something about Max needing to be checked on upstairs, which made Steve quickly shove the last of his sandwich into his mouth so that he could come help him and Erica along with Will, El and Mike.  They all made their way up, and Dustin stayed behind.  He moved over to the big kids table, bringing the box of crackers over with him.  He plopped down next to Eddie, who was grateful for the comic relief after the tense talk at the table.  Robin moved to bring over fresh cups of coffee, sitting between everyone.

“So uhhh, we gonna talk about it?”

Dustin’s question made everyone freeze. 

Robin cocked an eyebrow, leaning onto her elbows to sip her coffee.  “About what…?”

“About Bauman and Steve, and how we all clearly did not see it coming.”

Robin choked on her coffee.  Nancy stiffened next to Jonathan, which he didn’t miss — considering her hand was resting on his forearm.  Eddie drummed the table awkwardly while nodding and staring straight ahead at absolutely nothing. 

“Yeeeeeee-up, caught me off guard,” Eddie said.  “I’m normally good at picking up on that shit.”

Robin was still working on clearing her throat.  “Look, we don’t know anything yet —”

“He’s literally your best friend, Robin,” Dustin accused with an eye roll.  “If any of us know, you do.”

“Well my strange, tiny friend,” Robin quipped wryly, “I’m afraid I’m just as in the dark on this as you are.”  She sighed, leaning back in her seat with a flash of concern in her eyes.  “I really should have seen it coming, though.  I was so sure he was just gonna keep on hating her guts.”

“I still don’t understand why he hated her at all,” Dustin said, adorably naive. 

Eddie smirked, uneasy.  “Meh, not important.”

“Seriously, they got along just fine whenever we fought the demodogs,” Dustin continued, oblivious.  “And at the snowball, but then after that he just – went at it with her all the time, even though they would both still hang out with us.  Like an old married couple.”

Nancy listened intently, trying to keep up and put the pieces together.  Because truly, she herself had been wondering what changed.  But she had been so focused on her life, in her own world with Jonathan and their jobs, she really hadn’t paid much attention to the fact that you and Steve had gotten along at the start, then not at all, and now…well…

Robin puffed out a breath of air.  “Maybe they’ve just…gotten closer.  You know, found a way to get along.  Murray’s an ass, and even though she’s not and I love her, Steve’s not exactly the easiest to get along with even though I love him —”

Dustin scoffed.  “Robin.  He kissed her.”

Eddie clicked his tongue, trying to think of Metallica lyrics and avoid looking in Nancy or Jonathan’s direction.

Robin stared.  “What?”

“When?”  Nancy’s voice startled the room, and Jonathan seemed to cringe at it.

“Dustin,” Jonathan sighed.

“Today,” Dustin kept talking.  “Whenever we…brought her back.  He — he kissed her.  He literally bawled on top of her and wouldn’t let her go.” 

Dustin’s eyes lost all of the annoyance, now looking sad as he thought back on it all.  Robin stared at him along with Nancy, barely breathing.  Even Eddie looked over at him. 

“I’ve never…I’ve never seen him that upset,” Dustin murmured.  “Steve’s never sad.  Not like that.  I’ve never even seen him cry.  Not once.  Robin, did he ever cry while you both got tortured in the Russian chambers?”

Robin thinks back on that, gnawing at her lip, deep in thought.  She shook her head, realizing… “No.  No, he didn’t.  Just – panicked, but not…he didn’t cry.”

“Exactly,” Dustin says.  “Because he’s awesome.  He’s brave, and cool, and awesome.  Steve doesn’t cry.  Today?  He bawled.”

“Seeing someone die in front of you does that, man,” Eddie pointed out, melancholy.  “I know I did whenever Chrissy died… You cried today.  I did.  Byers did.”

“Not like that,” Dustin insisted, voice firm.  It made everyone go quiet again.  “Not like that,” he repeated.  “That’s how I would have cried if…like, if Suzy died.  Or how Lucas did when Max died before we got her back.  How Hopper and Joyce would.  How Jonathan and Nancy would.”

That made the present couple go stiff.  But Jonathan nodded, eyes boring a hole into his coffee mug.  “S’true,” he mumbled.  “If that were you, I would.”

Nancy looked at him, eyes guilty.  Of course, it was the same for her.  But she couldn’t focus on that right now.  Not now that her collective thoughts and observations were confirmed.  Now that she knew for sure…

“It’s not a matter of if they’re into each other,” Dustin kept going, certain.  “It’s a matter of when.  When did it start and how were we blind?”

But no one could answer that.  Robin couldn’t, and she was shocked that she couldn’t.  She knew her best friend all too well.  How had she not seen this coming?  How could she not have sensed that his never ending hatred towards you was slowly developing into liking you?  Maybe even loving you…?

Eddie had only started sensing it that day.  Until then, he had been the one to encourage Steve to go after Nancy.  To get her back, win her over.  But that stopped whenever Jonathan came back into the picture, of course.  He knew better than to cross that line.  Still, he knew that Harrington loved her and pined for her.  He also knew why Harrington couldn’t stand you, along with Robin.  They adored you, hoping at some point that you both could just become friends who tolerated each other.  Eddie never thought it would become more than that: a civilized friendship.

And Nancy felt something heavy sit on top of her chest that she really could not seem to accept yet: the truth.  She lost Steve.

“Alright, guessing game is over.” 

Murray’s voice rounding the corner made everyone jump, and he eyed down everyone at the table as he walked in with his empty soup bowl.  He made for the sink, turning on the faucet with his eyes still glued to the five people seated at the dining table, who stared back awkwardly.  Finally, he looked down as he washed his dish.

“Take it from the witchdoctor of love: those two had it coming.”

Eddie cocked an eyebrow, completely amused. 

Jonathan, however, was not.  This was so karma.

“...had what coming?” Dustin asked. 

Robin shot him a look — bless his little naive heart.

“Psh, c’monnnn,” Murray said, rinsing the bowl.   “The sexual tension.  The incessant arguing.  Harrington’s personal utmost disdain towards her.”

Nancy spoke up, unable to help herself.  “But…why though?  She didn’t do anything wrong.  Why would he have disdain towards her…?”

Jonathan hated how irritated Nancy’s question made him feel towards her.  It irked him deeply, but he just let it fester quietly as he sat there staring down at his cup of black coffee and having no choice but to listen.

Murray looked at Nancy with the most condescending expression, uncensored as fuck.  “Honey…really?” 

Off Nancy’s clueless expression, Murray rolled his eyes in the back of his skull as he slapped the faucet off before whirling to face them.

“Once upon a time, two years ago: you and Jonathan came over to my bunker — uninvited — waltzing your way into my business, along with my niece’s.  Thankfully, to our benefit, you helped us crack the case and — not so much to our benefit — onboarded us into your mess.  But rewinding back a few slides, you two stayed over because of the vodka coursing through all of our veins and tried to convince the two of us — AKA yourselves — that you two were just friends.  Which was the biggest load of unbelievable bullshit you both could have told me, and that’s after you told me everything pertaining to the absurdity and pure insanity regarding the upside down.  But really, it was a great belly laugh for me and my niece, so thank you.  Thennnn, my niece offered to let you both take her bed — not buying a lick of it, and suggesting you both stop being in denial.  On top of that, as a former student at Hawkins High, she knew King Steve very well.  She knew how Wheeler and Harrington both started dating, and how much closer the two of you —”  (he gestured between Jonathan and Nancy) “— had gotten since Will Byers went missing then got rescued.  Because my niece isn’t stupid.  She could’ve been class valedictorian if she’d wanted to, but — being like her cynical uncle — she didn’t wanna.  She’s a street-smart annnnnd booksmart cookie.  She knew you both were bound to let the trauma bond get you both together, and that genuine love had formed between the two of you way more than it had between her and Steve.  So she called it out, after being fed a bunch of coo-coo-bananas nonsense from you guys in my casa about being 'platonic.' " 

Eddie's jaw was practically touching the table. This was literally the best story he's ever heard, and it had just freaking started.

Robin felt like she was watching a movie in her mind, one in which her best friend was the main character and she was rooting for him like life depended on it.

"Fast forward to the lab, El’s grand return, Will’s exorcism, the demodogs, the Snowball, and our little house party that followed —” (he pointed at Dustin) “— you forgot that part — turns out, Jonathan Byers can’t take his liquor, so what does he do?  He goes over to my niece, who’s standing in the kitchen — like so,” (he gestured to himself) “ — and starts profusely thanking her in a string of loud, slurred, drunken words, about how he was chosen one, and how he got the girl, alllllll thaaaaannnksss toooo myyyyyy niiiieeeeeccccce."

Nancy's blood ran cold. What? 

"And because it was such a small house, no offense Henderson, unlike Casa Harrington — the king himself heard it all.  Every lick of it.  So of course, who’s he gonna hate with a fiery burning passion more than he ever could hate Jonathan Byers for stealing his girl?  The person who told him to do it.  Myyyyyy niece.  Because he can’t hate Nancy Wheeler, never-ever-ever could he hate the girl he swore was the love of his life.  And he couldn’t even hate Jonathan, because what had he done except be the victim of King Steve’s incessant bullying and his horrible posse of friends in high school while his brother was missing in another dimension?  But Steve had to hate someone.  To loathe someone, blame someone, more than himself.  So he chose her.  He chose my niece — and by extension me, but mainly her.  Because she was a part of the gang now, and around way more than I ever have been around you kids.  Which is to be expected.  So blah-blah-blah, hate-hate-hate, fight-fight-fight — soooo muchhhh traaaauma.” 

Murray paused for dramatic effect, soaking in everybody's faces, then continued. 

“...and what happens when there is trauma?... bonding.  Trauma bonding.  Forced alliance.  The need to put aside your differences, so that you all can just get along and survive.  And that leads to talking…which leads to more fighting…eventually, tears.  Lots of ugly words that can’t be taken back.  And then…suddenly…”  Murray snaps his fingers.  “Common ground.”

No one has made a sound, hanging onto Murray’s every word.

“Vecna ends the world.  At least, Hawkins.  We all somehow manage to survive it.  We all need somewhere to goooo…and we wind up here.  In a house, all underneath the same roof.  Forced to coexist.  Therefore, newfound respect and understanding is acquired when in close quarters.  Just as the two of you, Ms. Wheeler and Mr. Byers, found in my bunker.  Steve and my niece found themselves forced to live with one another, the space between them closing in.  Gap by gap, inch by inch…until…”

Murray made a gesture that looked like that of a magician, everyone’s eyes following.  “Magic.”  He walks closer, slowly.  “Some small talk becomes bigger talk.  Some childhood trauma that decorates the walls of Harrington’s house becomes the topic of conversation.  My niece just so happens to be a really good listener, and Steve happens to be in need of one.  They both discover they’re the only child in both their families.  His parents are absent.  Hers were barely ever present, before surrendering her to both mine and my mother’s care.  But she doesn’t mention that yet, no — why?  Because she’s listening.  Relating.  Understanding.  Meanwhile, Steve feels heard.  Seen.  Relevant.  Important.  Like maybe whatever he has to say matters.  Fast forward some more, blah-blah-blah…some more co-parenting later…which honestly, is the only reason those two maintained some sort of peace in the first place — aside from the inevitable perils that we all have had to face and be paid to keep our mouths shut about…”

Murray points to Dustin, who stares at him — agape. 

“You kids are the damn glue holding those two doomed enemies-soon-to-be-lovers together.  Not that you knew that.  You’re kids, and you don’t know that shit yet.  Which is good.  And they love that.  Steve might hate her, but he’s not gonna make you kids hate her.  And she finds him infuriating, but she isn’t gonna let you all know that by persuading you to feel the same.  Because he loves you rugrats, and you all love him…and you rugrats love her, as she loves you.  Fast forward to a night when all the kiddos are fast asleep, and the adults get a night to themselves with some cups of chilled vodka that fuels everyone’s laughter and newfound liquid courage — but just enough to give a light buzz, rather than sloshed drunkenness — the enemies, who’ve now become somewhat of friends…realize that they feel more.  Or at least, that’s what I observed.  Grilled my niece about it, that night before bed — and next thing you know — she is the victim of Uncle Murray’s love-talk lectures.  Just like you two were.  She’s swearing up and down that she cannot stand Steve, and that he cannot stand her.  She insists they are mortal enemies.  That he hates her.  Will forever hate her.  And then…that rambling turns into truth.  Admittance.  Denial, still.  But it’s enough to go off, allowing me to paint the picture and speak the truth into the world out loud: WE DO LOVE STEVE.”

Nancy freezes at that, eyes wide and heart blue.  She swallows thickly, and Jonathan feels sick.

Murray's conductor waving hands settled down, ready for the grand finish.

“...someone had to love Steve.  But it wasn’t you, Ms. Nancy Wheeler.  Not forever, anyway.  Not in the desperate, novel-esque ways we all read about or see in the cinemas.  But it was her.  You liked Steve, so that she could love Steve.  And he loved you, so that he could hate her…only to realize that he loved her. Deeply...madly...and truly.”

Murray leaned back, letting his rant come to a full stop.  The air was so thick, you could cut it with a knife.  Mouths agape, brains fried and heartbeats racing.  They were stunned into shocked silence.  With a sigh, Murray made for the fridge.

“Do me a favor…”  He grabbed some juice, along with the vodka, pouring himself a cup.  Then, with a severe look in his eye, he faced the group again. 

“Don’t make a damn fuss about it yet, yeah?  Not yet.  Not to them.  Wanna do it with each other, go ahead.  But maybe lay off them for a bit, will you? Hmm?”

Everyone was surprised at the uncharacteristic parental tone in Murray’s voice and the look in his eyes.  They felt parented now.

“Maybe let the shock of this newfound realization they both just came to accept barely before my niece stopped breathing today…I dunno…simmer down a bit, yeah?”

Dustin gulped, nodding.  Robin did, too.  Eddie had pretty much bitten his nails down to stubs at this point, and Jonathan had shrunk so far down into his chair he was practically on the floor now.  Meanwhile, Nancy looked like a heartbroken child who’d just been told that Santa Claus wasn’t real.  With that, Murray raised his glass of jungle juice and exited the kitchen — vanishing, leaving the group to sit there in their own unsettled energy.

So when Lucas, Erica and Steve all shuffled back down the stairs, it alarmed them.  Robin stared at Steve and the kids, while Eddie rose to stand and grab the box of crackers from Dustin.  Jonathan swigged his coffee.  Nancy just stared at Steve helplessly.

“Alright, who needs more food before we all turn in for the night?” Steve asked as he moved to put away the sandwich fixings with Erica.

Nobody spoke, making Lucas look at them with a quizzical expression.  Erica did the same, stopping as she went to put the sleeve of bologna back into the snack pan.  Steve had been busy picking up discarded bowls and plates before he finally looked at everyone, too.  He cocked an eyebrow, confused.

“You, uhhh…you guys okay…?”

Robin tried to speak, choking on air.  Steve squinted at his best friend.  Finally, she found her voice.  “Sorry.  Got the jitters.  Too much coffee.”

She stood up hastily, collecting everyone else’s cups — even Jonathan’s, who was mid-sip.  Robin avoided Steve’s gaze as she dumped them into the sink with a very fake, wide toothy-grin.  She hummed while rinsing the cups, and Eddie clapped his hands together when rising to stand himself. 

“Better, uhh, go re-dress my, uhh — dressings.”

“I got you,” Robin said, splashing the hot water and dropping the sponge so that she could hurriedly dry off her hands and follow Eddie out of the room – giving Steve a quick kiss on the head.  He watched her go, curious. 

But then he saw Jonathan and Nancy sitting over at the table still, along with Dustin — who was staring back at him sheepishly.  The curly-haired kid stood up, clearing his throat and shuffling over with the now very-empty box of crackers.  He whistled while tossing it into the garbage and moved to finish the dishes.  That definitely made Steve raise an eyebrow.  But he figured it was out of pity, so instead he just gave the kid a pat on the back and ruffled his hair before going back to tidying up the kitchen.

Nancy felt queasy.  Really queasy.  And looking at Steve was not helping, especially being seated next to Jonathan.  She rose to stand, making him look at her back with queasiness of his own.  He watched the back of his girlfriend as she started to turn to look back at him…and when she couldn’t, it made his heart sink.  She walked towards the living room, disappearing behind the wall.  But not before passing by Joyce, who made her way into the kitchen to give Steve a motherly touch on the arm.

“Dr. Owens will be here first thing in the morning,” she told him, reassuringly.  “Real early.  Probably 6AM.  Hopper’s letting Murray know.”

Nancy refused to let herself cry that night about Steve Harrington and her newly unrequited love.

Jonathan watched his mom comfort Steve, and while it made him grateful it also made him sad.  Steve sighed with relief as he thanked Mrs. Byers, and when his mother began to help him find some temporary pain medication that Dr. Owen’s instructed her to give you, he decided he couldn’t listen anymore and left.

“You don’t think there’s anything wrong with her, do you?” Dustin asked.  “You know, heart-wise or anything…?”

“She’s gonna be fine,” Joyce told him sweetly, rubbing Steve’s back as he leaned against the kitchen counter with a tense back.  “Her heart, her shoulder, her mind.  Everything.”

Steve took deep breaths, and Erica would have hugged him if she weren’t so profusely against giving anyone any sort of physical affection. 

Lucas, however, did move to squeeze Steve’s shoulder next to Joyce.  After all the comfort he’d gotten from him after Max died, then got brought back…and still received, with her being in a coma…Lucas understood Steve’s pain. 

No one knew it, but Lucas had secretly caught onto Steve’s feelings for you whenever he went to visit Max in her room one morning but heard you both sitting in there.  Selfishly, he’d stayed behind the cracked door to listen in…and it made him freeze in place.  They way you and Steve bonded, despite all the rivalry between you both.  The way you both spoke to one another in Max’s presence, like she was keeping the storm at bay despite being asleep.  Lucas felt as though he was listening to a conversation taking place between two fighting parents, who were finally finding common ground.  He had secretly listened like a little kid, leaning against the wall, giddy and heartbroken at the same time.  Lucas wasn’t sure why, but he knew.  He just knew.  You two were crazy for one another.  Maybe because he and Max had their struggles, too.  Maybe something about the way Steve pushed you, and you pushed Steve — maybe it reminded him of them, just as older teens.  Steve was his hero, and you were Max’s.  He would give anything to talk with her about it, to hear whatever she had to say about the two of you…the unlikely duo…

But he didn’t say anything about it.  He felt it best not to push anything.  Not yet.  When Max woke up, he would.  But maybe now, he wouldn’t have to.  Because Steve had been faced with the possibility of losing you.  And if he was gonna mess that up, then that's preposterous.  Then Lucas would say something.

***

That night, Steve crawled back upstairs and ran into Robin coming out of his bedroom, having just discarded Eddie’s only wound dressings in the hallway bathroom and changing into her pajamas.  She was staying in Steve’s room, per usual.  And she wondered if she might have just caught him coming upstairs to sneak into your room and not his.  At this rate, nothing was a surprise anymore.  Thanks, Murray.

“Hey, dingus,” she grinned.  Steve grinned back. 

“You gonna finally get some sleep?” he asked her.

“Yeah,” she nodded, gesturing to the blankets in her hands.  “Was just gonna go give Eds some fresh blankets.”

“Lemme know if you need help with that, seriously.  His wounds, I mean.  I’ll have Dr. Owens check on him tomorrow too, whenever he comes to check on Bauman.”

Robin nodded, biting her lip.  God, she wanted to ask him so many questions.  Hug him.  Tell her best friend to spill the damn beans.  Demand him to cry, to break down in front of her.  To scream.  To laugh.  Anything.

“Robs, you good?”

“Steve, I love you,” Robin blurted.  “Like – love you to death.  Best friends forever.  Just — just…”  She bit her lip some more, trying really hard to think before she speaks.  Steve waited patiently, a bit nervous.  Robin sighed.  “Just know that…I’m here.  And I’m always gonna be here.  Supporting you, with…whatever you need.  Even if that’s to shut up and just help you with something and not ask you any questions.  Alright…?”

Steve’s eyes sparkled, and he stitched up the distance between them to give her the tightest of hugs.  His best friend of a soulmate.  Platonic with a capital P.  Robin hugged him back fiercely, dropping the blankets.  She sagged with relief.  Thank God.

“Don’t wait up for me,” Steve mumbled into her hair.

“Cool.”

“Bed’s all yours.  Spread out.  Starfish.  Steal all the covers.”

Robin snorted into Steve’s shoulder, squeezing him tighter.  “Okay.  Cool, yay.”

Steve chuckled too, squeezing her to death.  He really did have the best friend in the world.  They swayed a bit like that for a moment, content and comforted in each others’ embrace.  Then finally, Steve pulled back and Robin ruffled his hair.  He rolled his eyes, swatting at her lightly as she grinned wide.  Scooping down to pick up the blankets, he handed them back over to Robin.  She smirked.

“Is she a cover hog, too?” Robin teased.

“Didn’t you say you wouldn’t ask questions?”

Robin saluted, making her way towards the stairs.  “Sir, yes, sir.” 

Steve could finally breathe for the first time all day, aside from whenever you were safely in his arms.  Knowing that he had his best friend on his side without needing to have a full blown conversation about anything yet…that really helped lighten the load a bit.  He exhaled deeply, letting the relief seep into his bones as he made his way to his bedroom door.

***

Once inside, Steve felt his heart swell.  There you were, tucked in bed still, sleeping peacefully.  Steve walked over to crouch over and kiss your forehead, gently stroking your hair.  He noticed you seemed to still be in the same position.  Almost like you hadn’t moved at all.  He looked at the clock.  It’s…been hours.  Several hours.  At least 4.  He looked back down at you, seeing how still you were in the dark. 

His heart stopped.  Were you too still?

Steve placed a trembling hand underneath your nose, too shaky to be able to tell.  But when he felt nothing, he frantically grabbed your wrist — yanking it off your chest to feel for a pulse —

You moved, stirring awake and looking at him groggily.  Steve just about collapsed, clutching your hand and bringing it to his lips as he sunk down onto his knees.

“Jesus Christ,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand and another to your palm.

You groaned lightly, moving to turn towards Steve and yawning.  He melted. 

“How long have I been out…” you asked him sleepily. 

“Hours,” he told you.  “Which is good.  You need sleep.”

You sighed, eyes fluttering tiredly.  “M’hungry.”

That made Steve grin ear to ear.  “I can fix that.  Want me to bring it up here?” 

A grin slowly made its way onto your face too, and you nodded gratefully.  Steve squeezed your hand, leaning forward to peck your forehead and your nose and your lips before promising you he would return. 

When he did, he came back with the bowl of hot soup that your uncle had kept warm for you along with water and some pain medication.  You were sitting up now, leaning against Steve’s chest as he sat with his legs caging you in and leaned up against the headboard.  You had just taken the medication a few minutes earlier, now sipping on the hot soup and a tall glass of water that Steve held onto for you.

The little bedside table lamp cast a soft glow in the Harrington’s upstairs guest bedroom, and the sound of light rain outside of the window filled the room along with the plink of your spoon against the soup bowl.  Steve felt grounded as he kept his arms around your waist, circled around you as he held you close.  His chin sat on top of your head, and the scent of his lavender shampoo in your hair filled his senses with peace. 

“What’s your favorite color?”

Steve’s question surprised you as you slurped another spoonful of soup, but you swallowed and felt the corner of your lip twerk up into a little smile.

“Yellow.”

Steve felt himself smile at that, squeezing you a little tighter.  “Guess this shirt was a good choice, huh?”

“Yeah, I’m glad you bought two.  Rich kid perks ain’t so bad.”

There was lightheartedness to your tone that Steve found himself adoring.  Craving, and yearning to hear more of – should time be on all of your side, in this godforsaken town. 

“I wonder if Vecna’s rockin’ my other one down there.”

“Nah, the dogs are.”

Steve snorted, giving your hips a little squeeze and pressing a kiss to your temple.  You sighed against him, sinking back and placing the bowl of soup onto your lap.

“What’s yours?” you asked him curiously, watching the shadow of the raindrops on the ceiling as they slid down the window. 

“Blue.  Sky blue.” 

You hummed, placing one of your hands that sat on your stomach onto his and interlacing yours fingers.  “Like a pretty, non-upside-down clear blue sky?”

“Schyeah, that.”  Steve rested his chin back on top of your head as he glanced out the window, the black sky and rainfall sending a shiver down his spine.  He wondered if the world would ever feel normal again…

Steve decided to ask you more normal questions, wanting to pretend that none of the dystopian reality just outside his house was real — just for one night.  He asked you what your favorite movie was, shocked to find that you loved romcom’s.  Especially Endless Love, Pretty in Pink and Working Girl.  He wasn’t sure why he thought you’d say dark movies, or maybe sci-fi hits.  Maybe Steve didn’t know what he expected you to say.  But regardless, your answers fascinated him.  He loved learning why you thought Sigourney Weaver’s character was misunderstood in Working Girl, which led to you both discussing women in the work force and how they should receive higher pay – equal to the men.  Steve agreed with you, liking how passionate you were about it yet graceful and humble at the same time.  You were smart, but somehow underestimated.  It was strange.  You were strange.  Turns out, he loved ‘strange.’

And it also turns out, Steve liked not only action flicks — but dramas, too.  Footloose and Baby Boom were on his list of guilty pleasure movies.

“Baby Boom??” you asked incredulously.  But you weren’t mocking him, rather genuinely intrigued and amused.

“Hey, it’s adorable,” Steve defends himself with a fake scoff.  “She adopts a damn baby and raises her as her own.  Be nice.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, tilting your head back to look at him.  “God…no wonder you love those kids so much.  You’re a natural born mother.”

“Okay but seriously, since when did I become mom and not dad?”

“Apparently, I’m dad.”

“Again: since when?” Steve's tone made you chuckle deeply.

You and Steve talked until your tongues were tired, eventually having moved to lean back onto the pillows.  He rested his head into his palm, propped up on an elbow and stroking up your side as you both enjoyed innocent pillow talk.  Softly spoken voices, hushed just enough to hear one another.  Real hearty laughter that you both muffled into your palms, or each others’ necks, so that you wouldn’t wake anyone.  Sweet confessions about food preferences, least favorite holidays, questioning religion while wanting to believe in a god.  How Steve thought that vodka was the kiss of death, while you found cigarettes to be disgusting.  Steve craved strawberry ice cream, while you were a sucker for plain old vanilla.  He loved diners, and you did too.  He swore pancakes over waffles, and you made it very clear that French toast was the clear winner.  It was a give and take conversation, and you both found it resulted in far more agreements than not.  It was the loveliest conversation that either of you’d had in years.  Maybe ever.  Not just with each other…but with anyone at all.

“So…six kids and a Winnebago, huh?”

Steve’s eyes danced in the moonlight, looking at you with pure adoration.  Shyly, he tucked your hair behind your ear, slowly nodding.  “Heard that, huh?”

You gave him a little smirk.  “It was a pretty small Winnebago.”

He shook his head fondly, then — “Yeah.  Turns out being an only child gets to you.”

You nodded sadly.  “Yeah.  It does.”

Steve hated that you knew that same loneliness.  But then again, was that what made you both see each other so clearly?  Is that why you knew his deeply rooted longing and misery better than anyone else?  Is that why maybe, just maybe…in telling Nancy to run off with Jonathan…you were protecting him?  He wondered these things as he looked into your angel eyes, not knowing how in the world he could have not looked at them like this before…especially right when he met you.

You told Steve how you’d always wanted a dog growing up, which led to his immediately confessing he wanted a lab or golden retriever.  You nodded eagerly.  Yes.  Those, or a border collie.  A dog that felt like a true family member.  Even a stray mutt who needed a home.  You both laughed at the funny names you both wanted to name them as kids.  Winston, Jeffery, Petunia, PeeWee, Pumpkin, Count Duku.  When Steve suggested pancakes as a name, you had to literally turn your head into the pillow to keep your laughter from roaring through the room and waking the household.  Even Steve felt like he’d pee himself from laughing so hard, watching you laugh so hard. 

God, you were beautiful.  You were so beautiful.

…when you smiled up at Steve, bashfully, he realized that he’d said it out loud.  “So are you,” you breathed.

Steve shook his head.  “I’m not, though.”

Your brow creased.  “Yes, you are.  You know you are…and if you don’t –”

“I don’t.”

“Well, you are,” you said simply.

Steve pressed his lips together, self-conscious.  How had he felt so damn confident all those years in high school, even middle school, but not now?  You reached up to push back some of his perfect hair, caressing his cheek. 

“I haven’t been,” he confessed, almost in a whisper.  “Not to you.  I’ve been ugly.  Really ugly.”

You looked into his guilty eyes, but Steve couldn’t find any anger or sadness in yours.  Just understanding and forgiveness.

“I was, too,” you admitted.

“No,” Steve shook his head, adamantly.  “Not like me.”

“Steve, I wrecked your life.  Well, your love life.  But still, I wrecked it.”

“No, you only wrecked it when you left it,” Steve confessed, bitter at the memory but not at you.

Never at you.  Never again.

“Telling me I deserve better, and I…told you that you deserved…nothing.”  He visibly winces at his own words.  “God, I’m so sorry —”

“Steve,” you stopped him softly, cupping his cheeks.  “Don’t.  I’ve forgiven it.  Really.  You didn’t know.  You were hurt.”

“Doesn’t make it right,” Steve whispered, looking at you with those beautiful doe eyes that shone in the moonlight.  “I actively made a point to stop hurting people, and I did it again anyway.  Worse.  Way worse than my stupid King Steve days.”

You shrugged, trying to make him smile again.  “King Steve was pretty amateur compared to the hard ass you became.”

Steve bit back a laugh, maybe even some tears.  Still, he let the joke land.  You crane your neck up to nuzzle his nose, making him sigh and return the eskimo kiss.  Then you hissed in pain, letting out a little groan.

“What's wrong?” he asked worriedly, brow pinched.

“Stupid shoulder,” you muttered.  “My ribs, too, damn…”

Steve looked down at your ribcage sadly, splaying his fingers there against your skin underneath his yellow crewneck.  He sighed.  “That’s because of me,” he confessed sadly.  “Pounding on you nonstop today with the compressions.”

“Well in that case, I’ll take it.  Pain’s good.”

You winked at him, and Steve tried to let that comfort him.  It did, for the most part.  Your oxygen intake really made it worth it, in the end.  He leaned down to press his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as you did the same. 

“I don’t know where we’re headed,” Steve whispered against you.  “Hawkins.  The country.  The world.”  He paused, breathing you in.  “Just know I want you there.  All the time.”

You smiled, eyes still closed, heart fluttering.  “Good.  You’re stuck with me, Harrington.  Bothering the ever-living shit outta you.”

“Bother me till I go insane,” Steve breathed, nuzzling his nose against you and grinning like an idiot.  He felt happy.  Absurdly happy.  Who thought that was possible?

“...Steve?”

He opened his eyes slightly, finding yours were already looking into his.  He waited, pulling back nervously.  Which is stupid, considering you’d just told him you felt the same way.  That you wanted to stay by his side, no matter what happens.  So why was he thinking that just changed within a 3-second timespan?  Why was he suddenly worried that you —

“I love you so much.”

19 years flashed before Steve’s eyes at that moment.  His childhood.  His pre-teens, and all the teen years that followed.  He thought back to every single I love you that had been spoken to him.  It hadn’t been many.  At least not many that meant anything to him.  He could count on one hand the amount of I love you’s that meant something to him over the course of 19 years.  But now, he could count on one finger the one that meant the very most to him.

“I love you so much, too,” Steve breathed, eyes glassy and mesmerized as they looked back into yours.  “God, you’ve no idea, I…”

Steve felt overwhelmed.  He scrunched his eyes shut, resting his forehead to yours again and caressing your cheeks.  He pecked your face, every inch of it, slowly.  Little kisses peppering your face.  “I love you so much.”

He could have bawled on the spot if he weren’t so completely entranced, swept up in the tidal wave of joy that splashed across his heart, mind, body and soul.  Steve could bawl about it later.  Right now, he simply leaned into your touch and vowed to never let you go.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

bless Murray and his impeccably uncensored madness. about time he set everyone straight, damn.

as alwaysssss, thank u for reading :) this series is so much fun. please comment, it always makes my day.

TAG LIST [if I forgot u, pls lmk and pls forgive me]

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#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington one shot #stranger things fanfiction #enemies to lovers trope #joe keery #baron marmalade #jkeeryedit #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #mishas masterlists #Steve Harrington is a mother #mom steve

[adiraargent]

You drew stars around my scars - Slytherin Boys

summary: Slytherin boys (Taylor's Version) x Reader warnings: mentions of scars (not specified what from), swearing, smoking includes: Theodore Nott, Mattheo Riddle, Jasper Rowle, Draco Malfoy and Tom Riddle - I will do a part 2 with other characters if anybody wants one :) wc: 2373 Part 2

Theodore Nott - Cardigan

Theodore Nott sat beside you on the edge of the bed, his gaze tender as he studied the scars that adorned your skin. You could feel his fingers tracing gentle patterns along the lines of your past, his touch feather-light as he navigated the landscape of your history.

As you looked up at him, a warmth swelled in your chest, but you couldn't help but worry. Worry that he was just use you, use you like others had done in the past. Tossing you away when they were done with you.

And when I felt like I was an old cardigan under someone's bed, you put me on and said I was your favorite

"Thank's for sticking around Theo," you murmerd softly, your cheeks flushing a pretty pink tone.

He looked up at you then, his eyes filled with an intensity that took your breath away. "You are my favorite person in this shitty world," he murmured, his voice soft like the rustle of leaves in the wind, despite the crude words. "Every scar, every imperfection, only serves to make you more beautiful in my eyes."

His words washed over you like a soothing balm, calming the storm of insecurities that raged within your soul. With Theodore by your side, you felt safe, protected from the harsh judgments of the world by the warmth of his love.

And when you are young, they assume you know nothing

People had always judged you for something, it was a judgemental world that you lived in. Maybe someone judged you for your skin, or your scars... or maybe just the way that you wore your hair. Maybe it was your weight or your height. Nobody was perfect... thought Theodore Nott would beg to differ, in his eyes you were the embodiment of perfection.

And of course, people judged you for being with Theodore Nott, a Slytherin boy with a troubled past. One that liked to smoke and drink, that liked to get into fights and argue with teachers and students alike. But you were in love. 'Love?' they'd ask you and laugh. 'You're so young, what the hell would you know about love?'

But I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss

Theodore's fingers stilled against your skin, his eyes searching yours with a depth of understanding that left you breathless. "I may not have all the answers," he said softly, "but I promise to stand by your side through every uncertainty, to hold you close and chase away the shadows of doubt that threaten to consume you."

And as he leaned in to press a gentle kiss against each scar, his lips a tender caress against your skin, you felt a sense of peace settle over you like a warm embrace. With Theodore, you knew that you were never alone, that no matter what trials and tribulations lay ahead, you would face them together, hand in hand, heart in heart.

For in his touch, you found solace and strength, a reminder that love had the power to heal even the deepest wounds. And as he traced stars around your scars with his fingers, you knew that no matter how dark the night may seem, the light of his love would guide you safely home.

Okay but i'm really happy with this icl

Mattheo Riddle - Mine

And I remember that fight, 2:30 AM As everything was slipping right out of our hands

As the moon hung high in the sky, casting its silvery light over the darkened landscape, you quietly snuck out of your shared home , your heart heavy with doubt and fear. Tears streamed down your face unchecked as you clutched your suitcase tightly, the weight of your decision bearing down on you like a heavy burden.

You had always struggled with trust issues and abandonment fears, scars from a childhood marred by betrayal and heartache. And now, faced with the prospect of being completely in love with a boy who had been nothing but good to you, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the magnitude of it all.

Mattheo Riddle, that cocky, short-tempered Slytherin, had become the center of your world, a beacon of light in the darkness that threatened to consume you. You got together in your second last year of school and were still together now a year after graduating. And yet, the thought of allowing yourself to fall completely and unconditionally in love with him terrified you to your core. You loved him, you knew that you did... but did love really exist? Falling in love was dangerous, it was setting yourself up to get your heart broken.

"I'll never leave you alone," his voice echoed in your mind, a soothing melody amidst the chaos of your thoughts. You had been sitting at the Black lake, the two of you had been together for 3 months and it was the first time you had told each other 'I love you'

But as much as you longed to believe his words, the scars of your past lingered like a shadow, a constant reminder of the pain and suffering you had endured. Even after all this time, you still had doubts. And so, with a heavy heart and tear-stained cheeks, you made the decision to leave, to distance yourself from the one person who had come to mean everything to you.

I ran out, crying, and you followed me out into the street Braced myself for the goodbye 'Cause that's all I've ever known

Bracing yourself for the goodbye, you took a hesitant step forward, the weight of your suitcase dragging behind you like an anchor. But before you could take another step, a voice called out to you from behind, stopping you dead in your tracks.

Turning around, you saw Mattheo running towards you, his eyes filled with an intensity that took your breath away. "I won't let you go," he said, his voice trembling with emotion. "I'll never leave you alone, I promise."

And in that moment, as he took you in his arms and held you close, you felt a sense of peace wash over you like a wave crashing against the shore. For in Mattheo's embrace, you found solace and strength, a reminder that love had the power to heal even the deepest wounds.

I fell in love with a careless man's careful daughter

"I promise I will do everything to prove I am nothing like he was," he whispered against your ear, his words a testament to the depth of his love and devotion. "You're the best thing that's ever been mine."

And as you looked into his eyes, filled with love and sincerity, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, hand in hand, heart in heart. For in Mattheo Riddle, you had found a love worth fighting for, a love that would stand the test of time.

Jasper Rowle

As you and Jasper Rwle walked hand in hand through the winding streets of Diagon Alley, a sense of contentment settled over you like a warm blanket on a cold winter's night. His hand in yours felt like home, grounding you in the present moment and reassuring you. You felt so safe with him, the way he softly rubbed your hand with his thumb sent warmth through your body, the heat being a stark contrast to the snow falling around you

"Can I go where you go?" you whispered, your voice barely above a hushed murmur as you gazed up at him with adoration shining in your eyes. You didn't mean to say it out loud. But you just wanted to be with him as much as possible, the way you felt when you were around him was unlike anything you had felt before.

You felt alive, wanted... loved.

Jasper's lips curved into a tender smile, his eyes sparkling with love and affection. "Forever and ever," he replied, his voice a soft melody in the air. "You and me, always."

And as you walked together, lost in the beauty of the moment, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude wash over you like a wave crashing against the shore.

Take me out, and take me home

He brought your hand up to his lips, placing a soft kiss against your skin, "c'mon, lets get to the three broomsticks then I'll take you back, its not good for you to be out in the snow for too long, I don't want you to get sick.

You're my, my, my, my Lover.

"Okay my love," you replied with a smile, letting him pull you along in the direction of the pub.

Jasper's grip on your hand tightened, as though afraid to let go, as though afraid that this perfect moment would slip through his fingers like grains of sand. "You're so gorgous," he whispered, his voice filled with a tenderness that took your breath away. "i adore you."

And as you walked together, lost in the maze of streets and alleys, you knew that no matter where life may take you, you would always find your way back to each other.

Draco Malfoy - getaway car

No, nothin' good starts in a getaway car

The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting a golden hue over the sprawling grounds of Malfoy Manor as Draco Malfoy and you sat together on his expensive broomstick. It was a moment suspended in time, a brief respite from the chaos and turmoil of the world outside.

As you gazed out at the rolling hills before you, Draco's hand found yours, his touch gentle and reassuring. But beneath the facade of tranquility, there was an undercurrent of tension, a sense of unease that lingered in the air like a shadow.

It was the best of times, the worst of crimes

You knew Draco was a death eater now, knew he had done bad things and helped bad people but you couldn't bring yourself to leave him. You loved him, and whenever you thought about the bad things he had done, your heart was quick to remind you of all the good times you had together.

All the late night talks, the joking around, the kissing and holding... everything.

But as the miles stretched out before you, you couldn't help but wonder if it was worth it.

I wanted to leave him, I needed a reason "X" marks the spot where we fell apart He poisoned the well, I was lyin' to myself

You fought to held back tears, the two of you were now on the run and now because of him, you were leaving all your friends and family behind. You were a traitor now and it was all his fault.

Draco's grip tightened around the broom handle, his gaze distant as he stared out at the sky ahead. "I knew it from the start," he admitted, his voice tinged with sorrow. "We were cursed."

You were drivin' the getaway car We were flyin', but we'd never get far

You new the order would be after you soon, they knew what Draco had done. You wrapped your arms around him tighter, burying your head into his back as you held onto him, scared of falling.

Ridin' in a getaway car There were sirens in the beat of your heart

And as you flew on into the night, the sirens in the beat of your heart seemed to grow louder, a relentless reminder of the consequences of your actions. You should have known that you'd never leave, that the promise of freedom would come at a steep price, one that you weren't willing to pay if it meant leaving Draco.

So still, you clung to each other, two lost souls adrift in a sea of chaos and uncertainty. For in each other's arms, you found solace and strength, a beacon of hope in a world gone mad.

And as the stars twinkled overhead and the world blurred past, you knew that no matter where the road may lead, you'd never leave him

We were jet-set, Bonnie and Clyde (oh-oh)

Tom Riddle - right where you left me

Help, I'm still at the restaurant Still sitting in a corner I haunt Cross-legged in the dim light They say, "What a sad sight"

Under the soft glow of the restaurant lights, you found yourself seated alone at a corner table, the memories of your past love weighing heavily on your heart. Friends had come and gone, relationships had blossomed and withered away, but you remained rooted in the past, unable to move forward.

Your eyes kept flicking up to the empty chair in front of you, your plate of food going cold as it sat in front of you completely untouched. The workers looked over, eyes filling with sympathy and sadness at the all-familiar face they had seen too many times, brief flashes of the happy couple that had once sat there.

Everybody moved on I, I stayed there Dust collected on my pinned-up hair They expected me to find somewhere Some perspective, but I sat and stared

As you sat there, lost in your thoughts, the echoes of the past danced around you like ghosts in the night. You remembered the first time you had met, the way his smile had lit up the room and warmed your heart. But now, all that remained were distant memories, fragments of a love that had once been.

You couldn't help but wonder if he ever thought about you, if he ever regretted the choices he had made. Did he know that you were still waiting for him, still hoping for a second chance at love? Or had he moved on, leaving you behind like a forgotten relic of the past?

Right where you left me You left me no, oh, you left me no You left me no choice but to stay here forever You left me, you left me no, oh, you left me no You left me no choice but to stay here forever

The restaurant buzzed with life around you, the sounds of laughter and conversation blending together in a cacophony of noise. But amidst the chaos, you felt alone, a solitary figure adrift in a sea of strangers.

And as you sat there, watching the world pass you by, you couldn't help but feel a sense of longing wash over you like a wave crashing against the shore. You longed for the warmth of his embrace, the comfort of his presence, but you knew deep down that he was gone, lost to you forever.

Did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen? Time went on for everybody else, she won't know it

Yet, despite the ache in your heart and the tears in your eyes, you couldn't bring yourself to leave. You were stuck in the past, trapped in a cycle of longing and regret, unable to move forward without him by your side.

But as the night wore on and the restaurant began to empty out, you knew that you couldn't stay there forever. It was time to let go of the past and embrace the future, to find happiness within yourself and move on from the love that had once consumed you.

With a heavy heart and tear-stained cheeks, you rose from your seat and made your way towards the door. And as you stepped out into the cool night air, you made a silent vow to yourself to never look back, to keep moving forward no matter how difficult the journey may be.

If our love died young, I can't bear witness And it's been so long But if you ever think you got it wrong I'm right where you left me

But it was a vow you knew you'd break just for him.

written by @adiraargent

Please do not steal or post anywhere else <3

Requests are open!!!

Bye for now

#fluff #adiraargent #harry potter imagines #slytherin imagines #slytherin x yn #slytherin boys #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle #voldemort #tom marvolo riddle #tomarrymort #tom riddle fluff #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle angst #jasper rowle fluff #jasper rowle #jasper rowle imagine #draco malfoy #draco x hermione #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #writing prompt #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #theodore nott x y/n

[syndxlla]

best friends don’t look at each other the way we do

A low stakes, high reward, and self-indulgent Zelink fan fiction. Canon-compliant. Takes place between BOTW and TOTK.

Heavily inspired by my Zelink thoughts

I wanted to dig into the dirty, grimly reality of being the saviors of the world and not knowing how to be the savior of yourself. But you can find that safety in another person.

Fan fiction warnings: Canon-typical violence, eventual smut (in later chapters, characters are consenting adults), references to self-harm, eating-disorders, and a lot of angst. Each chapter will have chapter-specific warnings.

Chapter one: I used to tie your shoes

Song: We’ll never have sex by Leith Ross

Summary: Fresh off Hyrule Field, Link and Zelda have to face life after the Calamity, and come to terms with the long road to physical, emotional, and mental recovery.

Warnings: Vomiting, trauma, canon-typical violence, eating-sensitivity

Word count: 3.7k words

Author’s Note: I am so excited to share this. Please share and support this in anyway. I drew this art for the cover :) chapter begins after the page break. I love you guys. Also, these chapters won’t be heavily edited. Ignore any grammatical/spelling errors pls

Time. We never seem to have enough time. Green grass burns soft red embers into the field, a horse’s mane is rebraided at the nearest stable, and the stars shine as if nothing changed. Because it hadn’t, not really. The sun will still rise in the east and set in the west. The birds will still sing their songs at daybreak and the fireflies will still flicker at dusk. Nothing changed, but everything did. The air feels lighter, the sun feels warmer and yet Zelda’s fingers still shake as if she was in the snowy Hebra peaks.

The Princess by nature, is very gentle. She’s soft and patient at heart, but was placed under such strenuous situations all through her youth that caused her to often snap or lash out. But not now. Currently she is silent, stone-cold and confused. She was in shock. And Link could tell.

“Here.” He pulls out a baked apple from his pack, handing it to her. He has to get her attention twice before she finally takes it, their hands brushing for a moment. Her awareness returns to her gaze then, her bright-green eyes meeting his.

“I-I’m so sorry.” She sighs, her voice weak. “I’m just… so tired.” Link tries not to show his distress, but she notices his demeanor change as well. “How much further?” She says, rubbing her eyes sleepily.

“Probably another hour and a half. It’s just through those mountains.” He points.

“Dueling peaks. I remember.” She nods. “I remember everything.”

“Everything?” He asks as he starts to dig around a pack on the rear end of Epona, searching for his rito attire. It was starting to get dark, and she hadn’t stopped shaking since they left Castle Town almost three hours ago.

Zelda nods once.

Her silence speaks volumes.

He yanks out his snowquill armor, finally. “Do you remember anything from the last hundred years?” She doesn’t answer right away, she instead takes a smaller than small bite out of the apple. “Zel? Can I put this on you? You’re still shivering.” He asks, looking at her blank, traumatized stare. “It’s from the Rito, it’s soft as a cloud and will keep you warm for the rest of the way.”

“The Rito.” She sighs. “Revali…”

Link realizes that she hasn’t had any time to process what she just went through. She had spent the last one hundred years deeply focused, probably in a trance-like state. He places a hand on her cheek. “Look at me.” His voice is gentle and welcoming, not forcing her at all. She looks at him, their eyes locking. “Breathe with me.”

They take two deep, heavy breaths. They sync their inhales, exhaling together.

“It’s over. It’s all over, okay?” He reassures her. “It’s not coming back. It’s just us now, alright?”

She swallows, still emotionless. “You’ve changed.” She says.

“So have you.” Link smiles in an attempt to comfort her. “Can I put this shirt on you?” He asks again. She answers faster than she usually had, nodding twice this time. Link bunches up the excess fabric before pulling the head-opening over her hair. He then guides each one of her hands through the arm-holes. Link takes a moment to adjust the garb around her torso until it was probably positioned around her shaking body. She immediately sighs in relief.

“You talk more.” She mumbles, looking at him as he gently wraps his fingers around her long, golden hair and softly pulls it out of the shirt, knowing how much it irritates him when his hair is loose underneath a shirt.

He smiles again, “I do. Some people say I don’t shut up.” He tries to lighten the mood.

“Like who?”

“Impa.” He sighs.

Zelda’s eyes light up with that name. “Impa?”

He hums and nods. “We can go visit her when you’re feeling stronger, okay?”

“Okay…” Zelda looked down into her lap, the skirt of her goddess dress was barely white anymore. “I am going to get stronger, right?” She asks, her voice tender and broken.

Link’s heart sinks. Not because he’s worried she won’t, but rather because he feels responsible for putting her in this state.

“Of course.” He reassures. He believed it. He wanted to believe it.

“I’m… just so tired.” She repeats herself.

“I know, come on, let's get you a bed.” He then picks her up bridal style from the ground. They had stopped in the first place to get that rito armor for her. She rests her head against his chest as he lifts her onto Epona. She smells like burnt oil and exhaustion. He probably isn’t smelling any better.

They wouldn’t get to Hateno until noon at the earliest tomorrow, and traveling wasn’t doing anything for her recovery. He gets on Epona behind her, letting her weak body rest against his chest as they make their way to Dueling Peaks Stable. The road is quiet, so much quieter than it ever has been. The pair of lizalfos always swimming in the river aren’t there, and even the crickets suppress their chirps.

It’s post-apocalyptic. Literally. Link isn’t sure how to feel.

She throws up a few hundred feet from the stable. She gags and lurches over the side of the horse, somehow managing to keep it off of anyone. Not much comes out, she hasn’t eaten in over a century, but Link frowns when he realizes the apple probably triggered it. He silently curses himself out for causing her any form of distress. She dry heaves violently, and Link tries to hold her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. When she finishes, she holds her breath.

She can’t decide if she feels like she lost a bit of dignity or not. She holds back the tears that well in her eyes. Link breathes in to say something, but she raises her hand in protest. She would rather they act like it never happened. Neither of them say anything from there on, they just keep riding the final minute of the journey.

Everyone at the stable was asleep except for an attendant… who was also treading precariously between consciousness and a deep rest behind the counter.

“Excuse me?” Link asks to wake him up, hopping off of Epona after making sure Zelda would still be comfortable in his absence. She would never admit she wasn’t.

The man stirs awake with a jolt. He yawns, slightly startled, “So sorry, young man.” Link wouldn’t necessarily call himself young. He smirks softly.

“I’d like to board this horse till the morning, and we’d like one soft bed, please.” Link nods before setting down the required rupees. The man squints his eyes, taking the money in hand.

“Ah! It’s you! Link, was it?” He asks when Link turns his back to help Zelda down from the horse. “Jeez, you haven’t passed through here in at least six months! We were holding onto that old mare for you!” He gestures to their stables where a small gray spotted horse sleeps. Link’s first horse since he woke up from his century-long slumber. He only rode her in the beginning, when he was doing chores between Hateno, Kakariko and one time a longer trip to Zora’s Domain. But she’s old and weak, which is why she was easy to catch when Link was still regaining his strength. He stopped taking her out when he found Epona in the western part of Central Hyrule.

“Yeah… you guys can let her free.” He says as he sets Zelda down on the ground. She holds her cold hands together.

“Well uhh.. we tried. You see, after four months at a stable we let go of any forgotten pony’s, but she kept coming back.” He chuckled, his voice exhibiting a distinctive nasality.

“Here,” Link hands him a red rupee, not wanting to discuss an old horse any longer when he literally has the closest thing to a God in this world resting her head on his back. “Keep her for another month, I’ll come take care of her then. Okay?” Link asks. “Can I get that bed now?” Not impolite or forceful, he never was. He’s assertive but has a comforting cadence to his tone. For being such a talented swordsman, guard and easily the most deadly hylian in the entire kingdom, he was never rude or condescending. He was welcoming, and little kids often looked up at him with intimidation when they first met him, but it didn’t ever take long until they were chasing him with tree-branches while he fled and begged for mercy, letting them take him down with ease. The kids at the stables loved him, knew him by name, and would play as him in their silly pretend games.

The stable-man replies, “Of course! But you only asked for one bed, it’s not big enough to fit both of you.”

“I know, it’s for her not me.” Link then starts to guide her into the stable, where it’s much warmer and safer. Just because it’s quiet doesn’t mean it's safe. Hyrule is a dangerous place by nature, especially if you’re two century-old Gods being hunted for sport with the faces of children.

“You won’t sleep?” Zelda asks quietly behind him.

He doesn’t directly answer, and instead guides her to the bed. She’s weary, and he’s terrified of her not waking up. He wouldn’t be able to sleep even if he wanted to. He helps the Princess sit in the bed, and kneels before her to untie her sandals. When he touches the leather, he immediately gets transported into another memory.

It rips through him, just like the memories he had images of. Suddenly, he’s kneeling in the same position, but instead he was outside of the spring of courage. He looks up to see the clear sky, it’s sunset, and then his eyes meet Zeldas. Her face is rosy, and her eyes don’t have the blank stare they possess in the current time. He looks down at his fingers, tying the straps around her ankle.

“Really, you don’t have to do that.” She hums. He doesn’t respond. He never did back then. He finishes wrapping the leather around itself and then stands up. His face is emotionless. She looks at him, they’re about the same height. “I won’t be long this time.” She says. “I’m not expecting much anyways.” She sighs and then walks past him, but before she can get very far, he gently grabs onto her arm, holding her back. He doesn’t say anything but she can read his expression. He’s trying to tell her to have faith this time, just one more time.

Surely the Goddess would commune with her.

She shakes her head, and wades into the warm waters of the spring. Link turns to watch her, how her hair cascaded down her back, how her hands balled into fists. She turns around to look at him, their eyes meet. She smiles.

He comes back as fast as the scene played in his memory. He blinks a few times, and looks up at her. She doesn’t look any different, very little—if any—time seemed to pass. He doesn’t usually experience memories with someone, he wonders if she realized anything happened. Link didn’t even consider the fact he would keep receiving memories after the fact. His stomach turns, he feels like he’s lived two completely different lives and is forced to remember things from one that he doesn’t even relate to anymore. He doesn’t feel like the same person, the boy he was a hundred years ago is a complete stranger to him.

Link much preferred this life.

And that scares Zelda.

“I just remembered something.” He says. Zelda hums in response, a light-hearted noise that implies an inquiry. He elaborates, “I used to tie your sandals for you at the springs, didn’t I?” He asks.

Zelda smiles for the first time since they defeated Ganon. It’s a small pull of her lips, not showing any teeth but her eyes finally light back up. After she had asked if he remembered her on the field, she collapsed, not even aware of her own exhaustion until that moment. He ran to her aid, and ever since then she felt woozy, it only got worse the further from the castle they got.

“You did, yes.” She says. “I never asked you to, but since I was in the dress, you insisted.” She sighs. Link grunts in response. “It was very chivalrous.” Zelda adds.

They look at each other for a minute. Not saying anything. It was late, and two beds down there was a set of kid brothers sleeping. Link remembered them from their last visit. One of them wanted nothing to do with him, trying to act mature and ‘cool’. Link eventually won him over, though. They don’t speak out of fear of waking anyone. Zelda’s smile slowly fades away, and Link swallows thickly. They will never be the same.

He pulls her sandals off, her feet are filthy with century-old mud. He silently smiles about that. The closest thing to a Goddess in the entire world has dirty feet. How human of her.

Then, after pulling down the heavy rito-down blanket so she can slide in, he helps Zelda swing her legs into the bed. He pulls the blanket up to her neck, she lays on her side facing him. Her hands find their way up to her face, resting her cheek against them. Link pulls a short stool over to the bed, sitting on it and looking at her, bending at the waist.

“You’re not going to leave me, are you?” She asks in a timid, sleepy voice.

Link’s heart just about breaks when she asks. “Never.” He shakes his head. He takes his gloved hand and tucks a piece of her loose hair behind her pointed-ears. He lets his fingers linger a little bit longer than they should. “I will never ever leave you again.”

“Promise?” She asks, her eyes heavy with exhaustion.

“Promise.” He whispers, “Just as long as you promise to never leave me, okay?” He asks, ignoring the lump in this throat.

“Promise.” She says, taking her pinky finger and sticking it out for him. He wraps his finger with hers, which is far daintier and softer than he's ever been. She is a Princess, after all.

“Wake up in the morning, okay?” He whispers.

“Mhm.” She hums as her eyes slowly close. He tries to disconnect their pinky fingers, but she holds onto his. He leaves his hand in that position, letting her hold it until she falls fast asleep.

Link doesn’t move his hand until he’s certain it won’t wake her up from her much needed rest. He looks at her gentle, soft face. No one even understands what she just went through, no one ever will. He’s worried sick that she won’t make it through the night, and he keeps leaning his head down to listen to her breathing, or places a few fingers against her forehead to check her temperature.

He does his best to stay vigilant the entire night, not once even looking away from her. But just before the sun rises, his body suddenly catches up with his mind. He also just had the most demanding battle of his life. His muscles started to ache, and he developed a headache. He was just a boy, after all. More than anything, his sword arm was weak, and fire-hot pain shot up and down through it. He probably overused it fightin the calamity.

He keeps telling himself that he’s fine. He has to be fine, for Zelda. His arm isn’t that bad, what really hurts was his heart. Usually he’d just down a fairy tonic and maybe go to the hot springs if he was in the area but this pain was different. A twisting and contracting ache in his chest pulled and tugged on his lungs and pulse. It’s the same pain he felt when he remembered Mipha, and more specifically, the pain he felt when he dreamed about his family before the resurrection.

The dream that gave him the memories of a little sister with blonde hair like his collecting fireflies in her pockets. Her laugh echoing, the call of an older man, the image of a royal guards sword leaned up against the dinner table. The touch of his father’s hand as he rubs Link’s back to sleep.

Link’s first sword.

He wakes up like a fire, standing up and almost toppling over. He didn’t even realize he had fallen asleep. He could hear the soft tune of the penny whistle playing the standard stable theme, and the two little brothers played tag outside. He curses and looks down at Zelda.

Her bed is empty, and his heart completely stops. He starts breathing hard and heavy, his entire nervous system feels as though it’s pulled into stasis. How could he make such a foolish mistake? He swings his sword over his back, strapping his shield to his leathers and turns around in a wild-hunt to see the Princess sitting at the round stable table, drinking out of a mug and speaking gently with an older man.

Link takes a breath of relief, and approaches the two.

“Good Morning.” She smiles up at him. Her voice sounded much better, and her eyes finally had life back into them, but she still wasn’t herself. Her skin still looked sickly, her face hollowed out and eyes droopy. Any progress is good progress, Link decides then and there.

“I… didn’t mean to fall asleep.” Link sighs. “I’m so sorry. When did you wake up?”

“Oh not long ago, maybe twenty minutes? I didn’t want to disturb you-”

“You should have.” He interrupts her and her words get swallowed out of surprise. Link realizes that he snapped at her a little, and immediately becomes apologetic. “I’m sorry, again. I just…”

“You’re worried about me. I understand.” She takes his hand, her bones frail. In many ways, she physically looked worse today than last night. But at least she could hold a conversation. He nods. Zelda notices the tension, and changes the subject, “This kind gentleman was telling me about when you saved the stable from a horde of lizalfos about a year ago.”

Link looks over at the man, Giahzo. “Oh that was nothing, it was just two green lizalfos and a blue one who wandered too close to the stable.” Link hums. Their hands were still held together by Zelda.

“Don’t be so modest!” The old man chuckled, “Without you, it would have been a disaster! The number of monsters means nothing, especially when you don’t know how to fight!”

“That’s very kind of you.” Link smiles and then realizes he and Zeldas hands, he’s the one to pull it away. “What are you drinking?”

“I’m not sure…” Zelda begins and Link immediately snatches the mug from her hand. “Hey!”

“You can’t just drink something mysterious.” Link scolds.

“Oh it’s just a bit of Hateno Milk.” The man assures. Link looks at him, then Zelda, and then into the mug to see the creamy liquid. He brings it to his nose and smells it, and then takes a sip of it. Sure enough, it was just milk.

“I’m sorry, Giahzo.” He apologizes and places the mug back down. “I’m just on high alert.”

“Do not apologize to me, apologize to this lovely young lady you’ve graced us with.” The elderly man smiles with a chuckle, his eyes wrinkling up with his age. Zelda smiles, blushing a little, “Tell me, dear, where are you from? We don’t get many new faces at this stable these days.”

Zelda looks at him, her eyes sad. A hundred years ago every person in Hyrule knew her face. She looks at Link, unsure how to answer.

“She’s from the Outskirts stable.” Link covers for her. “Her family used to reside in Central Hyrule before the Calamity.”

“Yes.” Zelda immediately chirps, “We’re headed to Hateno for…”

“A honeymoon!?” Giahzo smiles brightly. Both Link and Zelda freeze in their tracks, and Link hopes he doesn’t look as embarrassed as he feels. “Hateno is a great Honeymoon destination! Although I’ve heard Lureline is even more splendid!” He clasps his hands together.

“Research.” Zelda clarifies, “so sorry to disappoint.” She chuckles politely, making a conscious effort not to look at Link. “I’m researching… population dynamics in Hyrule.” She makes something up that sounds completely believable.

“Of course.” Link then says, “I’m just escorting her there, we are total strangers.”

That breaks Zelda’s heart.

She knows he’s just trying to be extra careful, pushing her anonymity as much as possible. And in a way, it wasn’t a total lie. But it cut her like a knife.

“I see…” Giahzo doesn’t seem convinced. “Well, if you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to stop by. Hopefully the monsters will start to die down.” He smiles and stands up, moving outside.

Zelda is still afraid to look at Link, and he’s a little bit shaken up by the entire interaction. He knows the Yiga are still out there, he knows that there are people who will try to take advantage of her for power or money. He has no reason to suspect anything from the old man, but he can’t help himself from being deliberate. He senses her tension and walks back to the bed to gather their things.

“You should have woken me up.” Link says as he picks up a satchel full of food and readjusts his gloves.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was timid and tired. He turns around to see her, her green eyes looking up at him apologetically. “I didn’t know it would worry you so.” He approaches her.

“Of course it worries me.” He sighs. “I spent three years trying to get you out of that castle, I’m not gonna lose you on the first night.” He holds his hand out for her to trade, helping her up. She must not have rested as well as he thought, because as soon as she gets on her feet, she almost topples right over him. He catches her, holding her up before she collapses. “Woah there.” He mutters. “You alright?”

She nods, “Let’s just get to that house you told me about.”

—

chapter two

#Zelink #zelink fanfic #zelink thoughts #botw Zelink #totk zelink #totk #botw #tloz #legend of Zelda #Zelda fanfic #Zelda x link #zelink smut #zelink angst #zelink fluff #zelink pining #post-calamity #tloz breath of the wild #tloz link #tloz zelda #tloz fanfic #tloz tears of the kingdom #tears of the kingdom #breath of the wild #smut #fluff #angst #hurt/comfort #link fanfic #zelda fandom #zelda fanart

[penaltyboxboxbox]

any genderbend headcanons you would like to share 👀????

YEAH....YEAH I DO....theyre all pretty random and non specific but if you want to hear me ramble about my girl drivers here u go

Charles: she's a non conventional fashion girlie...........she likes to dress quite femininely and and gets a lot of fashion based brand deals so she is often pairing skirts and such with her sportswear and it sometimes looks a bit silly. a lot of her fits are like...is it a fit or is she just really pretty and wearing designer lol. the skirt i drew her in is what I THINK would be her version of the quali pants, it's this knit skirt from gucci 💁‍♂️

Carlos: she is like two steps away from being a high bun lesbian. still keeps her FEM VIBES mostly because of family pressure. but the second she gets put in a dress its all a little . hm. youre a masc arent you.

Pierre: happy to be the paddock baddie like....she embraces it fully. she got a boob job and doesnt care if people know. constantly hints at being bisexual on instagram but will never confirm.

Esteban: the girl who had the most major glow up............and who has also had a bob her whole gd life. literally lives in a lulu jacket and yoga pants like its her uniform. she and pierre had the most toxic codependent girl friendship of all time. she's soooo so so tall and always got mad growing up because none of the boys liked her cause she was taller than them and got teased about it....still tall as fuck

Lance: my tall and beautiful wife...every few months she chops her bangs too short and everyone cries until they grow out again. she hates having hair in her eyes.... hates dresses and heels since she always sits with her legs out...gotta be comfy duh..

Fernando: milflonso............she was an it girl in her youth and then got divorced and came out as a lesbian and became an irresistible masc

George: the preppiest girl you can imagine she will never cut her hair AND she will wear a skort. extreme complex about being a tall girl.

Lewis: ultimate fashionista like she gets it....changes her hair a lot more than boy lewis....extremely in denial lesbian who dates the gayest men imaginable

Yuki: shes a hey mamas lesbian. she flirts so hard with pierre from like eye level with her huge boobs. kind of a fuckboy she swears she'll treat you rightttt come on babyyyy

Daniel: used to be such a hotgirl such a coolgirl like in her younger days she had long long hair and dressed sexy and was all about pushing this like....im a hot girl but im also so cool and just like the boys 😜 (she was overcompensating for something) but after she leaves redbull she like cuts off all her hair and slowly starts mascing the fuck out as she gets older.....now shes just straight up soft butch and everyone knows she kisses girls

Max: grew up forced to have the worst bowlcut in the world and never got to be very girly or anything so when she grew up she finally let her hair grow long and never cuts it. has barely any personal style and still cannot walk in heels tho.

Checo: arguably the one who cleans up the best like shes the one with the makeover montage everyone is so used to seeing her in red bull gear and a ponytail every damn day the second she puts on an outfit everyones like HELLO?????

Valtteri: used to be permanently in the low pony tail and attempting to dress acceptably business casual woman enough for things but after she left merc just embraced being a butch. has the same mullet as guy val. hallelujah

Guanyu: suuuuuch a fashion girl and absolutely rules instagram and weibo..........always doing photoshoots and stuff. experiments with cute hairstyles a lot, but always keeps her bangs ☝️

Alex: used to be super plain like wore big hoodies and just left her hair long and straight and hanging there until one day she got the chop+undercut going on.......now shes well aware shes everyones ideal boyfriend if he were a girlfriend.

Logan: my florida girl......my natural blonde with her little ponytail.....when she was growing up her parents definitely put her shirts like this

Lando: she is a racing driver as much as she is an influencer.............people discourse about if shes fanservicing like every 2 seconds. girl gamer and proud.

Oscar: she lives in gym clothes. nike pros or leggings every day with the most boring shirt. never does her hair or wears makeup

KMag: best mom everrrrrrr 🫶

Nico: she talks openly about how men are very intimidated by her. she is indeed kind of scary.

#ask #genderbend

[bakubunny]

bringing you some thoughts on sugar daddy!yagi. it was going to be aizawa, but yagi seemed like a much better fit for what came to mind.

tw: f!reader, escort!reader, retired!yagi, retired/quirkless!yagi’s physical appearance isn’t known to the public

sugar daddy!yagi who never intended to be a sugar daddy. felt mortified at the thought that he was seriously considering hiring an escort for something as simple as companionship. why was it so hard to meet a nice woman to settle down with in his retirement? he was kind and knew very well how to build a romantic relationship… in theory. he just spent the majority of his career without one.

sugar daddy!yagi who was so nervous when he met you that his hands shook. who cleaned himself up well. who assumed you would walk away when you saw how he looked. you almost did, but it wasn’t his age or his looks. it was that he’d mentioned he was a bit “high profile,” but wanted to meet you before revealing more details.

sugar daddy!yagi who was stunned when you walked over to his table. his mouth went dry when he saw just how pretty you were in real life. you weren’t quite half his age at thirty, but it was close to that with him being in his late fifties. you hadn’t worn anything special other than a nice, casual dress. he was enraptured by the brightness of your eyes and smile, got a fluttery feeling in his chest whenever you laughed.

sugar daddy!yagi who, if he hadn’t looked so pathetic and anxious to admit that he was toshinori yagi, you wouldn’t have believed him at all. you’d taken on a couple of higher profile clients before, but never a world renowned hero, and the scraggly, dark eyed man looked nothing like all might. yagi begged you not to walk away from the secluded table he’d reserved. you hadn’t laughed in his face, but you certainly didn’t believe him either. “i can prove that i’m telling the truth,” he said. “i’ll double, triple your rate if that’s what it takes. please, give me a chance.”

sugar daddy!yagi who was indeed who he said he was. you decided to agree to meet him a few more times before setting anything into a contract because something about him drew you in. it wasn’t the flowers he bought you or the way he carried himself, it was his kindness.

sugar daddy!yagi who is so adorably nervous even after the contract is set that you can’t help but find it endearing. who makes it very clear that he wants companionship - nothing sexual - in exchange for your time. who spends the majority of his time cuddling with you, taking interest in learning your hobbies, and talking about your life.

sugar daddy!yagi who encourages you to lean into the success of your career and wants to see you grow as a person the more he knows you. who takes the time to learn about your hobbies and try them with you in an effort to have more interests in common. who shares his with you and brings you along to do things with him.

sugar daddy!yagi who doesn’t blink the first time he hands you a check large enough to cover your rent, bills, and groceries for the month thrice over. it’s far above what you’d agreed on for his temporary contract, but the moment you’d mentioned things were “a little tighter than usual,” he wouldn’t hear anything else. if you were going to be his baby, he was going to take care of you.

sugar daddy!yagi who is stunned once again when you give him a kiss on the cheek as a thank you. you really didn’t expect generosity like that, especially from a new client, but the more you get to know yagi as a person, the less it surprises you. sure, his career made him put on a character of sorts for the public, but underneath that he was still kindhearted and generous.

sugar daddy!yagi who tells you to save what you don’t need for future expenses and spoils you rotten on top of that. pretty jewelry, clothes, a nice handbag or a pair of shoes, anything your heart could desire, he could give it.

sugar daddy!yagi who blushes so hard the first time you call him daddy, you think you might have done something wrong. he’s in disbelief at how good it feels to hear that on your lips. he squeezes your hand tighter and grins a little.

sugar daddy!yagi who’s shocked when you say you don’t want to start a long term contract. he looks heartbroken until you tell him, “i… i’d rather just be with you, if that’s okay. no contract, just us.” and suddenly his heart is thrumming in his chest. his mind races. he pulls your face in and kisses you tenderly without a second thought. whose eagerness is firm and his hands rough.

sugar daddy!yagi who quickly starts coming out of his shell after that first kiss. who’s shameless in treating you like his baby - spoiling even further, having you on his arm at any given chance, pampering your mind and body as often as he can. who is far from an incompetent lover; the way his hands travel over your body tells you that much.

sugar daddy!yagi who, after a little time, fucks you better than anyone you’ve ever met. who is attentive to every little detail in how you respond. who pulls more orgasms out of you than you thought possible. who fucks you harder when you call him daddy, runs his hands and mouth over your skin while he groans. who grins sheepishly when you compliment him as his cheeks tinge pink.

sugar daddy!yagi who loves it when you sit in his lap and ride him; he gets the best view of your tits and he doesn’t have to do as much work. he loves fucking you stupid, but he’s tired more often than not and adores when you give him that. who chokes out heavy breaths and small whines as he praises you so sweetly for being his good girl.

sugar daddy!yagi who craves slow, lazy morning sex because it pulls out the prettiest mewls from your throat. who wakes you up with kisses on your neck and his hand running over your panties. who will wake you up early every once in a while to fuck you or get you off before work.

sugar daddy!yagi who swears the sound of your sweet voice heals something inside him, whose tired hero heart is mended a little when you moan his name. who adores fucking you and loving you into a complete mess. who shows you daily that he’s lucky to have you as his sweet sugar baby.

if you’d like to be added to my tag list, let me know. ♡

gremlins: @sluttyshigaraki @dcsiremc @darkstarlight82 @bookcluberror @neon-gothicc @zazter-den @breadandbutter33 @i-literally-cant-with-this @rinalouu @stvrfir3 @r4td0lll @emmab3mma @aria-chikage @mhadabiandhawks4eva @yazminetrahan @doumadono @dreamcastgirl99 @maddietries @jazzafayesworld @karebear5118 @unofficialmuilover @cherriluvs35 @erensslut @ruu-https @hana-yuri @keiva1000 @katsul0vr @trickster-kat @ayeohoh-blog @dinomeow @flamgosstuff @mistressreaper @angelltheninth @anonymously-ominous @amberexe2 @hisconsistency @nanamisbigassschlong @223princess @honeeslust @naughtygobbo @acenanxious @blumoonwisteria @chaos-gem

#this was kinda rushed #but i think i like it #bnha smut #mha smut #toshinori yagi x reader #yagi toshinori #toshinori yagi #toshinori smut #f!reader #x reader #💖 #tw daddy kink #bakubunny

[mncxbe]

Touch♡

𝑷𝑴 𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: no plot just vibes/ fluff♡

Contenxt; you're Dazai's partner and he walks you home after a mission♡ saw this reel on instagram and I needed to write this (https://www.instagram.com/reel/CwzpZnjp_n-/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==)

Streetlights glinting off the hoods of parked cars; pearls of rain pouring from the dark clouds above, skipping on the wet pavement. A chill ran down your body, causing you to shiver as you gripped the handle of your umbrella tighter.

It wasn't exactly cold. The last vestiges of summer still met the eye: fresh green leaves with crisp, paper brown edges, watermelon and bundles of puffy peaches in windowshops and heat radiating off the busy boulevards; but still, the glacial presence of your partner beside you was like a wintery breeze.

"Can't you walk a bit faster?" he asked in his usual cold tone, his words sounding more like an order than a mere inquiry.

"My boots are killing me. So no"

Gazing around the empty streets in attempt to avoid his gaze, you instinctively reached for the pack of cigarettes nestled in the pocket of your coat; comforting, familiar.

"Then why are you wearing them?" he pressed.

You procured a cigarette from the crumpled box and held it to your lips, lighting it up with a clipper. The little flame flickered in the light wind; a kaleidoscope of red, burnt orange and summer yellow that shone in the darkness that enveloped the two of you.

"Well, they suit me well don't you think? What doesn't a girl do to feel pretty?"

"That's stupid, really" he sighed, shaking his head lightly.

Sulkily chewing the filter of the menthol cigarettes, your gaze slid to Dazai. His dark curls, frizzy from the humid air, fell lightly around his face; you could see the white bandage wrapped around his eye.

In the background, lights from cars and traffic lights seemed distorted, elongated and washed out, hazily flashing green and red. After a moment of silence you finally spoke up again:

"Why do you wear that"

"What?" he asked then sighed when you pointed at his bandage. "Why not really? I think it suits me well. After all, what doesn't a boy do to feel pretty?" he mocked.

A light chuckle rolled off your lips as you snaked your arm under his, trying to shelter yourself from the heavy rain.

"Don't go turning my words against me, Osamu."

Dazai tensed under your touch. After all this time he still wasn't used to it and he suspected he never will be.

He only nodded in response, thin brows knitting as his eyes watched the fat raindrops fall in puddles of technicolor.

You knew Dazai has never been the type to talk unless he had something to say and you found solace in his cold demeanor. Other people did their best to avoid him- the vicious detective of the Mafia, the boss's favourite lap dog or whatever others called him- but the same things that pushed most people away drew you to him.

You were neither friends nor enemies, but in the end there was no need to define your relationship. Being with him simply felt right, like two pieces of a puzzle being connected.

And in a way Dazai felt the same. He found comfort in your vibrance, in learning all your little habits, like the way you'd bite down your thumb when you were deep in thought, how you'd roll the filter of your flavoured cigarettes between two slender fingers when you were bored or hum the exact same tune after missions.

You were everything he wasn't: high-spirited, gentle, tender, mindful of everyone's needs and awfully alive; madly in love with every little aspect of the world and beyond all, kind. Just like now you were kind enough to share your umbrella with him so that his bandages wouldn't get soaked by the rain.

As you walked down the damp streets of your neighbourhood, rain pouring from high above, all Dazai could think was how right your arm felt around his. How close you were. A faint memory of you reciting a poem a few weeks ago resurfaced in his mind; you always said that rain brings people closer, an idea he dismissed without a moment of though. But now he couldn't deny how right you were. You felt closer than ever, enveloped in translucent drops in this bubble of silence the two of you shared.

When you finally reached the front of your apartment building he stepped under the arcade, waiting for you to find your keys.

"Thanks for walking me home" you said mindlessly as you unlocked the door to your apartment.

"No problem. Also here you go..." he began, attempting to close the umbrella but you quickly motioned him to stop.

"Nah you can keep it. You can give it to me tomorrow ok?"

He simply nodded, his eyes meeting your as you raised on your tip-toes to place a faint kiss to his cheek. As you pulled away your fingetips traced the edges of his bandage, ice cold against his skin.

"If you really wanna know you do look good with it, but I prefer you without it." you stated, lips stretching into a warm smile.

Dazai nodded again, his hand coming to rest above your own, cupping his face. The two of you stood like this for a few moments before you eventually pulled away.

"I better go now, it's getting late. See you tomorrow tho."

With that and a light-hearted smile you entered your apartment and shut the door behind, leaving Dazai all alone.

Holding the umbrella above his frame he began walking towards his place. The rain showed no sign of stopping.

As he passed by an overflowing trash can his hand reached for the back of his head and he pulled the patch off his head, tossing it in the bin with a waggish huff before walking away.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd fluff #bsd dazai #dazai osamu #dazai bsd #dazai x fem reader #dazai x reader

[writingoddess1125]

hiya!

Could you do Prince Nuada from Hellboy 2 and reader?

This one has taken me a while- Also thank you for reigniting the LOVE I had for Prince Nuada! Ugh! So sexy!!

I do hope this is to your liking since it did take some warping.

1. I gotta keep Nuada and Nuala alive so the ending didn't happen

2. Introduce elements from the comics aka Hellboy had adopted siblings.

OKAY ENJOY! I TRIED HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Half Breed

Prince Nuada x FemReader

Support me on Ko-Fi I'm poor!

After the fortunately failed suicide attempt from Nuala which had horribly injured both twins- Nuafa had been captured and the two rushed back to the Bureau for emergency treatment, Which fortunately allowed the Elves to survive the whole ordeal.

Nuada had been placed in custody of B.P.R.D first as a high level prisoner for many months after his attempt to wipe out humanity.

After being in solitary confinement for far too long a deal was struck with him to work for the organization due to his knowlege of the world and to get out of solitary help all that had been damaged.

He had agreed- begrudgingly and because Nuala insisted.. it had been nearly a year of this all- When something interesting took place.

Nuala and Abe walked down the corridors together, talking about recent books they had shared before Abe paused.

"Oh?-" He looked around calmly before seeing the warning lights come down shining blue instead of the normal red for emergencies.

"Is there an emergancy?" Nuala questioned, a bit nervous of what it could mean, But Abe gently touched her shoulder with his gloved hand.

"No no- Just a old friend. Everytime she visits her and Red play a.. Game of sorts like tag" Abe explained, Nuala smiling at hearing this. Nuada who had just returned from a mission turned the corner seeing his sister and the fish man, frowning but looking to the lights.

"Whats this?" He asked shortly, Abe repeating his answer from before.

"Warning lights for a Game?" He questioned, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Well they are only allowed to have this game once a year and for 5 minutes- mainly due to the property damage that always happens" Abe said truthfully as the elven twins looked surprised by this. A childish game causing property damage?

As if right on cue there was a loud crash the trio turning to see Hellboy running full force in their direction like a train.

"MOVE MOVE!" He yelled loudly, as he ran past them. This was the fastest any of them had seen him run even in a life or death situation, right as he was about to turn the corner a black boot came barrowing down on the side of his cheek, knocking him to the ground hard before the smaller figure ran down the hall Red had just gone through.

"You're it!" She yelled and the trio watched- There running past was a women. Dressed in all black leather tactical gear with her silver hair in a long braid, the ends a sunset gold- (Y/S/C) skin with unique etchings found in only elvish culture paired with amber eyes. It didn't take a genius to figure see what she was-

"Timer Abe!" She yelled, Abe looking to the small watch he carried.

"4 minutes and 26 seconds left- Also happy youve returned safely" He called out to (Y/N) who dashed down the hallway.

Nuada eyes widened as he couldnt help but follower her with his gaze, something about her drew him in. The trio sticking to the walls as they tried to follow the action- it was like a massive battle taking black between a giant and a tiny titan. While Red was slamming into walls cracking cement with his weight and arm- (Y/N) was doing flips and hung to the light fixtures above to keep an advantage.

"Happy to see you too!!!"

He could only describe himself as being mesmerized by her.. Every turn, giggle and jump just seemed to bewitch him and it terrified him.. It wasn't till a loud alarm snapped him his gaze making him jump a bit in surprise- the game was over it seemed and Hellboy returned with his sister, the demon clearly glum from losing.

Nuala eyes widened as she watched (Y/N) jump around Hellboy with a happy smile at winning the game. Figuring what she was but disbelieving of course even after this entire endeavor. A leath-fola. A Half-Blood Actually existed in this world? The embodiment of a union between a human and one of his own kind-

"I win Red! So that's 28 for me and 25 for you. Best luck next you!" She said cheerfully as Hellboy grumbled and pushed her head away with his small hand.

"Yada Yada short stack-"

She noticed the looks of the two meeting their gazes and Nuada immediately felt his heart beat pick up- Confused by the sensation he glanced to Nuala assuming it must be her however she seemed calm and relaxed.

"New Agents?" She questioned looking at the twins, Abe nodding with a 'smile'

"Prince Nuada of the Bethmora clan.. This here is my sister Princess Nuala" He introduced both formally, watching how her smile seemed to radiate as he spoke. It made him feel like he had had stepped into the sun for the first time in years..

"It's lovely to meet you both! It's so lovely to have new faces here in the facility" She said cheerfully, reaching out in a friendly matter and patting both twins on the shoulders.

It felt like Nuada had been shocked by the most pleasant bit of electricity that left him flustered and confused. His sister finally glancing at him as she felt his emotions and gaze a smile, a twinkle of what could only be described as mischief in her golden gaze.

"Yes.. new faces... now if you'll excuse me" Nuada said quickly before dismissing himself- trying to control the panic that was eating him on the inside and the warmth that bloomed in his body. He practically ran back to the space he was forced to call a room and lock himself inside. Nuada stood in his room pacing back and forth. His mind racing and heart uneasy- unknowingly for hours as he tried to calm himself from the sudden feelings that seemed to slam into him.

A knock on the door bringing him from his thoughts as he quickly opened the door, surprised to see his sister standing there in a evening gown.

"Sister, what are you doing up? You should be resting.." He said softly, allowing Nuala into the room.

"I can not rest with you so worked up brother" Nuala said softly. The prince sighing as he realized he had kept her up and took a seat on the corner of the bed, Nuala sitting next to him as well.

"Well- It sounds like she is your fated partner" She pointed out and Nuada immediately felt anger in his blood.

"You're thinking about the leath-fola (Y/N)? Right?" Nuala said softly as she rubbed her brothers shoulder to comfort him. He frowned at being so obvious and also for the form of comfort.

"Yes- She... makes me uneasy" He says, lying a bit to avoid the words he wanted to use. Nuala smiling at this.

"Do not speak such foolish things-" He hissed, Nuala flinching at his harsh words.

"I am not fated to a mortal of all beings" He started but Nuala held up a hand.

"She is not a mortal however brother.. You saw" Nuada was ready to argue but couldnt- his face twisting up.. The damn half-breed was not his fated partner NOR was it going to be the siblings of the demon.

He would prove it...

For the first few weeks that (Y/N) was there, Nuada had been rude and snide. Hissing insults about her mixed blood, shoving past her or even straight up ignoring her. He expected she would take the abuse since she didnt say anything about it but he had been wrong- so terribly wrong.

It took only one time calling her "Dirty" in terms of her blood to get the hardest punch he had ever taken to the nose- It made his eyes water and fall to a knee infront of her..

She grabbed his silver hair and pulled him close so they were eye to eye-

"Listen here- Keep insulting me like this and I'm going to tear your ass a new one. I don't give a Flying fuck if your a price or whatever- I will fuck you up" She hissed at him-

Nuada felt more confused then he ever had before- The pain seemingly going with the fluttering warmth he felt in his face and blatant arousal that was Damm near impossible to miss- (Y/N) seeing his widened eyes and the flush of color on his pale face, like he was frozen and her own golden eyes traveled down at noticing some new movement.

"O-Oh-" Was all she said- Clearly just as surprised as Nuada was at this point. Her fingers carefully releasing his silver hair as warmth went to her own cheeks.

Nuada wanted a blade to the heart at this point...

#x reader #hellboy #Hellboy Golden Army #prince nuada #Princess Nuala #hellboy 2 the golden army #hellboy 2004 #abe sapien #halloween #happy halloweeeeeeen #dark elf #elf x reader #half elf #teratophile #monster fucker #monster fuqqer #monster fudger

[ghenry]

Rewatched the Avatar TLA series with my partner recently, and fell in love with the world and characters all over again. I especially love the journey Zuko goes through the show as a character.

Zuko, son of Fire Lord Ozai. He seems pretty by-the-books at first as this angry villain, but something that makes him immediately unique for this kind of setting is his young age. He's barely older than Aang, our child protagonist.

"You're just a child." "Well, you're just a teenager!"

Although early on you start getting the idea that there's more nuance to him than this villain trying to incapacitate our protag, he shows some depth in his character here and there, usually through his uncle Iroh, a wise warrior that's there to aid and comfort his nephew, joining his banished trip on his own accord. While he's on the villain's side, it's worth noting he never hurts or intimidates innocent people, only ever fighting those already attacking or threatening him.

Even so, Zuko made it blatantly clear what his intents were. "I must capture the avatar to regain my honor." And he barely changed his mind about this throughout the entire first season, even when the two helped each-other out of hopeless circumstances, hinting that they're not meant to be sworn enemies.

"If we knew each-other back then, do you think we could've been friends too?"

Knowing the show and how it transpires across all 3 seasons, it's interesting seeing the intent the writers and showrunners had for these characters, and their hidden depth, all the way back in this first season. One of the finest examples would be Iroh sharing Zuko's history with fellow soldiers. A history which helps said soldiers --and in turn, the audience-- empathize with him.

Behind Zuko's scarred face is a story about a boy already feeling lost and unsure of himself, stumbling into a tragedy where his father --in sheer arrogance-- abused his son to a high degree in front of all his subordinates, in a heinous act he would call punishment.

Ever since then, he was banished to travel across the world to search for the avatar, a task his father felt was worthless, but was the same as leaving him out to die. This isn't the origin of a villain, but a downtrodden individual who couldn't find his place in life.

What Zuko called "honor" over and over again wasn't that, but his father's love. He already lost his mother, and instead yearned for his father's approval and affection. This culminated to his ultimate betrayal, siding with his sister and turning his back on his uncle, which lead to his imprisonment. During a crossroad and moment of insecurity, he threw his uncle Iroh to the wolves because he thought he would regain his honor and earn his right to be a part of his family once again.

Zuko would be welcomed back into his family, he retrieved what he thought was his honor --and what he thought was genuine love from his father.

"You have redeemed yourself, my son."

But even then, he still felt lost, alone, and without a sense of direction. Nothing changed, his soul still felt incomplete.

"For so long, I thought that if my dad accepted me, I'd be happy. My dad talks to me, he even thinks I'm a hero! Everything should be perfect, right? I should be happy now, but I'm not! I'm angrier than ever, and I don't know why!"

It took him a long time (about 2 and a half seasons) to realize he didn't need this sense of "honor" and what he was chasing was just a farce. His father only showed Zuko "love" when he seemed useful, an asset that was helping his fascist conquering of multiple nations by killing the Avatar.

All of this drew to an enthralling, terrifying, heart-wrenching moment between him and his father during the day of the eclipse. He used the minutes they could not fire bend as an opportunity to let out the truth and his own epiphany. He admitted that he never killed Aang --didn't even try, for that matter-- and that he's going to help him defeat his father's regime. Ozai immediately despised Zuko for this, proving his 'love' was conditional and hollow. And at that moment, as soon as the eclipse ceased, he attempted to kill his own son right then and there in a moment that never fails to draw tears out of me as soon as it happens.

Zuko survived his father's lethal attack, only by sheer will, and a lighting-redirection technique his uncle happened to teach him a while back, emphasizing how important Iroh is to him. Iroh is the father figure that truly loved Zuko unconditionally. Ozai, his biological father, could only grant him death. His uncle Iroh, at that moment, inadvertently granted him life.

And Zuko's story (mostly) ends in the middle of the 4-part finale. With the help of his friends, he tracked down Iroh who escaped from prison. The moment he sees his uncle, he breaks down as he's horribly ashamed of his actions, expecting Iroh to shun him as he feels he does not deserve his uncle's love after what he did to him.

"I was never angry with you . . . I was sad, because I was afraid you lost your way."

But Iroh doesn't hesitate to embrace him. Like I said, his love is unconditional. He knew Zuko wasn't evil, he was only being manipulated by the likes of his father and sister. He knew Zuko would find the right path, restore his own honor, and come back to him. It's such a beautiful moment and the soul-piercing conclusion to Zuko's story, a story they were building up since the literal first episode.

Of course, there's also Azula, his sister. She was considered a prodigy with her amazing fire bending abilities, mastering the skill of bending lightning, something only her father and uncle were able to do before her.

She was a spitting image of her father; fierce, manipulative, wrathful, the only thing she shared with her brother Zuko was their sense of determination. But we don't learn what really drives Azula until the finale. It's similar to Zuko. He felt incomplete without his father's love. While this was implied before the finale, Azula felt she was missing her mother's love.

While I think the argument could be made that this was just her own projection, it's important that this shows how --despite her more respected place in their family and nation-- she was just as broken and spiritually lost as Zuko. While Ozai showered his daughter with praise for all of her life, Azula felt her mother didn't love her, which ate away at her, deep inside. Much like Zuko, who felt he was fighting to earn his father's love.

Azula, to me, represents Zuko's future if he let his father manipulate him, just like Azula did to him. Would he have become this tyrannical fire lord if he just listened to his father, abandoned his inhibitions, and ensured his nation's regime? Maybe. But like Azula's interrupted crowning, it would have been shallow, lonely, and without any real sense of self-worth. Nothing to show for it but a broken mind.

Instead, Zuko became the fire lord on his own terms, and with the entire world in support of him, as he helped this quest for peace and balance across the nations. He earned his place in life through his own will, his own actions, and his amazing uncle who only wanted the best for him. He restored his honor himself, with lifelong friends by his side.

That's it, that's all I wanted to write about. This show rules.

#avatar the last airbender #atla #zuko #prince zuko #azula #uncle iroh #fire lord zuko

[mytreepoetry]

"Sit down, my sweet."

Dazai x reader

Osamu Dazai, a name so beautifully soft-spoken, conjured feelings of deep admiration and love. He was the person you believed deserved the world and more, the one you cherished and for whom you would give up everything.

Your history together was long, and it surprised him that you had chosen him out of everyone to spend your life with. You were the one who always showered him with affection and taught him how to love—both you and, most importantly, himself. You showed him how to find the light in the darkest of nights. He loved you, needed you, and sought your love and care, just as you did in return.

The first time you both shared sweet intimacy, you guided him through it, two young souls wrapped in each other's embrace, savouring the moment together.

Osamu had acted confident, seemingly not caring about others' words, but you saw through his facade; you always did.

Today, you were surprised to find Dazai home before you. Normally, he arrived a little later. But the joy of being greeted at the front door and showered with kisses and loving words made the surprise all the more delightful.

As Osamu's kisses escalated, you paused between moans, mindful of your sweaty state from work, suggesting you take a bath first. He responded with a playful hug and a glance into your eyes, dismissing the concern.

"I'm sure you're tired, my beautiful one. Let me pamper you," he suggested, leading you to your shared bedroom.

In the gentle intimacy of the moment, he undid the buttons of your shirt, showering affectionate kisses on your chest, eventually removing your bra. He made you feel secure, as if you had no need for one with him by your side.

As his kisses ventured lower, evoking a rushed moan, you tried to conceal your pleasure, causing a slight frown to appear on his face. He wanted you to revel in your feelings and be free with him. His frown turned into a playful smirk as he imagined your inability to control your moans soon.

He drew closer, gently caressing your cheek, surprising you with his request, "Would you sit on my face, my pretty?"

Startled, you responded, "W-what, I might be too heavy for you, Dazai."

He quickly dismissed your concerns, "Nonsense!" and effortlessly lifted you onto him, seeking your consent for his desire.

"Please?" he pleaded as his hand caressed your covered backside.

You hesitated, but he didn't wait for a response, instead, playfully unzipping your pants.

Worried about suffocating him, you protested, begging him to stop.

"That's the idea, my beautiful, being enveloped in your sweet thighs," he said with a teasing smile, leaving you with excitement and bashfulness.

The atmosphere in the room was charged with passion, and Osamu's gentle lips met yours yet again, their tender touch igniting a spark within you.

"Sit down, my sweet," he implored, his desire evident.

You paused, expressing your concern, "No, Osamu. I don't want to hurt you."

In that moment, you both felt true desire, yet unsure of how to proceed. The connection between you was undeniable, but you were mindful of each other's well-being. The intensity of your emotions made the decision all the more significant.

Despite that, he suddenly pulled your thighs down and started pleasuring you.

He licked, he sucked, and thursted his tongue in a rhythmic dance, making you give off the most beautiful sounds.

Oh, how he adored your voice. So angelic and sweet, how could he not?

His pants were getting tight by you subconsciously grinding against his face as you now needed his touch. Your taste - his favourite sweet, and, oh, did you just grab his hair?

He started rubbing his legs together. A certain friction is what he requires. Both of his hands are busy pleasuring you together with his tongue. He thursts his hips into nothingness, he wants you to touch him, no, he needs it.

You let out a soft moan as you release all over his face.

And as you came down from the euphoric high of the intimate moment, your focus shifted to Osamu, whose teary-eyed and crimson flushed face startled you. Concern rushed through you, and you quickly got up, wanting to make sure he was okay.

"Dazai! Are you alright?!" you asked, your voice filled with worry and tenderness.

In that moment, as you looked into his eyes and saw the raw vulnerability etched across his face, you understood.

You looked down, and you noticed the visible wet spot on Osamu's trousers..

Dazai came in his pants while eating you out.

"Osamu, did you..?"

"D-don't say a word."

#bungou stray dogs #dazai osamu #bsd #bsd dazai #dazai x reader #bungou stray dogs dazai

[aziraphales-library]

Heya!

I've read a LOT of GO fics in my time, but I can't remember if I've seen crossovers/AUs of the following movies with Aziraphale/Crowley, can you help please?

So my favourite rom coms of all time are the following, and I'd love GO versions (if they don't exist I may have to write them)!

French Kiss (Meg Ryan and Kevin Kline)

You've Got Mail (Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks)

When Harry Met Sally (Meg Ryan and Billy Crystal)

Runaway Bride (Julia Roberts and Richard Gere)

Never Been Kissed (Drew Barrymore)

I won't bother asking about Pretty Woman because I've read so many versions with either of them in either role lmaooo (and I have loved Every. Single. One.)

Or basically any late 80s/early 90s rom coms with Meg Ryan (except Sleepless in Seattle because I find it incredibly boring) or Julia Roberts!

Thank you so much for everything you do! You've helped me discover so many amazing fics and writers and it is much appreciated!!! 💖💖😇😎

Hello there!

Did you know there is a whole collection from the Good Omens Rom-Com Event that was run a couple years ago? You might find what you're looking for there! (Some of the fics are unfinished so keep that in mind)

We have previously recommended a bunch of You've Got Mail/She Loves Me fics HERE, so check those out.

As for the other ones you've asked about:

French Kiss AU:

A Bit of Crumpet by Fyre [E]

With a handsome, successful fiance and a respectable home in Manhattan, Aziraphale Fell thought his life was more than adequate. He never expected to be jilted in a long-distance telephone call and so he sets out for England to find out exactly what's going on and gets a lot more than he bargained for.

When Harry Met Sally AU:

it had to be you by curtaincall [M]

“What I’m saying,” said Aziraphale, looking fixedly ahead, “and please don’t take this as a personal insult in any way, is that an angel and a demon can’t be friends.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” said Aziraphale, firmly. “It’s against the order of things. You’re supposed to tempt. I’m supposed to thwart. We can’t go being friends.”

*

A canon-divergent AU inspired by When Harry Met Sally.

I don't know of any fics with your two last wishes but there is also:

Notting Hill AU:

Soho by Lurlur [E]

Aziraphale lives a quiet kind of life, running a quiet specialist bookshop in one of the liveliest districts of London. He's content with his lot, happy with his friends, tolerant of his probably-human housemate, living vicariously through the gossip pages.

One day, a chance encounter with Anthony Crowley, lead singer of wildly successful rock band The Demons, threatens to turn his whole world upside down.

Music and Lyrics AU:

pop! goes my heart by attheborder [E], WIP

When has-been musician Anthony Crowley is recruited by pop singer Anathema Device to write a song for her new record, he jumps on the chance to resuscitate his career with a hit. There's only one problem: he can't write lyrics to save his life.

But a chance meeting with a stranger by the name of Aziraphale, with a poetic streak that's a perfect fit for the song, changes everything for Crowley. Together, they'll create something beautiful, fight the forces of the music industry, and perhaps even find a way back into love...

A Music and Lyrics AU for the GO Rom Com Event, complete with all-new original songs written and recorded by the author!

Kate & Leopold AU:

Until by Nadzieja [T]

“I don’t want to go home.” Half-asleep Aziraphale murmurs into his ear and Crowley's heart clenches. His grip tightens reflexively around the warm soft body in his arms, around the smell of old books and sandalwood.

“Then don’t.” He’s trying not to sound like he's pleading, but his throat is tight and his voice hoarse.

*

Crowley lives his average life, working in a high-end advertising company at London that pays just enough to get him a room in a shared accommodation. That's just his luck that he ends up living with a literal witch. One day she brings home an even more eccentric man that has a taste for 19th century fashion, as if Crowley didn't have enough things to worry about. Little he knows that the man will turn his world upside down. Literally. And that's just the beginning of his problems.

~Mod N

#good omens #ineffable husbands #rom com #human au #canon divergent au #adult omens #mod n