#he doesn’t care enough to screw them over but does care enough to help as long as it won’t screw /him/ over

[faillen]

why’d they have to kill Balthazar :(

#still annoyed by it #can you imagine how great it would’ve been to have him boppin’ around in later seasons? #being a Massive Bitch #constantly needling Cas about his crush #and also: hey. hey. remember when you LIED TO ME and opened PURGATORY? #Balthazar would make a purgatory? more like pur-gay-tory joke #we were robbed #also he just would’ve been a fun ally for them #and a good counterpoint to Cas’s undying devotion #the rest of the angels’ disinterest #and Crowley active manipulation disguised as help #he helps when he can! he has hard boundaries #he doesn’t care enough to screw them over but does care enough to help as long as it won’t screw /him/ over #underrated character #spn

[justauthoring]

jerk [2].

because bakugou katsuki is a jerk but he's also unfortunately your soulmate.

a/n: the LARGELY requested part two! honestly, i'd be willing to write more parts if people wanted :) this part ended up being more about the girls and y/ns friendship but i couldn't help myself - if you guys want some fluff with bakugou for future parts, just let me know!

pairing: bakugou katsuki x f!reader

part one.

“You’re hiding something from us.”

There’s a beat of silence, then another, then another and when finally, you realize you should say something, you blink, sputtering out a barely believable; “no i’m not.”

Mina and Jirou glance at each other, then behind them at the rest of the girls, and you feel a layer of sweat build up when you realize all of your female classmates are here, surrounding you, demanding an answer. And you’ve never really been all that good at lying before, it’s how Bakugou was able to figure out the whole “i’m your soulmate thing” rather quickly and it had only taken him as long as it had because, well, it was Bakugou.

So, to put it bluntly, you’re screwed.

“Come on, Y/N,” Mina laughs, “that wasn’t even remotely believable.”

You know it’s written across your face, your eyes wide and your lips parted and you’re sure you look like quite the picture in that moment surrounded by every single female student in your class, a group of girls you considered your friends but were feeling considerably more like your interrogators in that moment. 

But you have to at least try.

“I’m not hiding anything,” you repeat, this time taking special care to make sure your voice is even and somewhat believable. “I’m just… tired. It’s been throwing my balance off. Sorry guys.”

You really are because you have been weird recently and you were hiding things (even if you were desperate for them not to know that) so the sincerity was there and it seems to be enough because they all glance at each other, frowning, and you can literally see the determination fade as Momo speaks up first.

“You have been leaving to train a lot,” she agrees with a solemn nod. “It’s no wonder you’re so tired. But you should still try to get some rest, don’t push yourself so hard.”

You let out a breath of relief, trying not to let it show as some of the girls shuffle back to walk away, until—

“Wait, that reminds me!”

It’s Jirou who calls it out and you feel yourself freeze.

“She hasn’t been training!”

Eyes widening, you turn to look at Jirou. She’s grinning your way, her figure pointed in your direction, clearly pleased she’d caught you in your lie.

“Jirou,” Uraraka calls out, confused. “What are you–”

“Two nights ago when she left to go training, I followed her, thinking we could train together… she wasn’t there.”

They gasp. Literally gasp.

“Now that you mention it,” Froppy nods, finger held to her chin in thought. “I haven’t actually seen her in the gym very often… nor does she look particularly like a person who’s just trained when she comes back.”

Their eyes fall on you and you take a step back.

“Y/N—”

And then you just run.

-

“I can’t believe she just ran!”

“I know!”

“Guys, I’m sure she had her reasons.”

“Who?”

Mina’s lips are left parted at the sound of Kirishima’s voice, all the girls turning to face him in the living room where he’s sat with the rest of the class.

“Y/N,” Mina explains with a huff, falling into the couch dramatically. “She’s been ditching us constantly and always leaving right after we return from class with some excuse. When we tried to ask her about it today, she lied and then when we caught on to her lie, she ran! Literally just bolting down the hallway before we could even blink.”

Kirishima frowns, glancing over to Denki on his left.

“That doesn’t sound like Y/N,” Deku calls out from across the room, head tilted in curiosity. “Especially to lie to you guys.”

“I know!” Mina calls out, throwing her hands up in exasperation. 

“Like I said,” Uraraka speaks up, trying to remain calm. “I’m sure she has her reasons. Maybe something’s wrong…”

“You think she could be in danger?” Shoto asks, quirking a brow. 

Uraraka shrugs; “I don’t know… I hope not.”

Everyone falls silent, worried expressions plastered on their faces.

“Wait, Kirishima… bro.” Denki calls, reaching to shake Kirishima aggressively, to which the red-haired boy swats his hands away, shaking his head.

“What?”

“Hasn’t Bakubro been disappearing a lot too?”

All the girls straighten out.

Kirishima just shakes his head; “Bakugou is always disappearing. You know he doesn’t like hanging with us a lot.”

“No, Denki’s right,” Sero nods, “even if he isn’t hanging with us, he’s usually in his room or in the gym. Recently, he just completely disappears.”

“I guess you’re right…” Kirishima frowns.

“Wait,” Jirou calls out, “what are you saying? That Bakugou is disappearing with Y/N?”

“That’s crazy,” Mina brushes off. “I’ve never even seen the two talk to each other unless they’re forced to–wait.”

Everyone's eyes snap to hers, wide.

“What?”

“You don’t think… no. It’s not possible.”

“Oh my god,” Denki cries out suddenly, leaning forward with a manic look in his eyes. “Bakubro is hurting Y/N!”

“Wait–”

“No way!” Kirishima calls out, turning to Denki. “Bakugou is a lot of things, but he would never hurt somebody intentionally. Especially not a girl. That’s not manly. Right, Midoriya?”

“Right,” Deku nods confidently, before pausing; “I think?”

“Hey!”

“Guys, no!” Mina cuts in, shaking her hands widely before her. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Okay…” Momo nods, “then what?”

She leans in, pausing for dramatic effect. “He could be… her soulmate!”

There’s silence, then, “no way.”

Mina’s face falls; “why not?”

“Bakugou? Having a soulmate?” Jirou snorts, “I doubt that.”

“Everybody has one!”

“Okay, the odds of him actually caring about his soulmate are slim to none,” Froppy offers in response.

“Yeah,” Deku nods, “I've never once seen Kacchan show interest in his soulmate like… ever.”

Kirishima shakes his head; “even I have to admit that’s so not manly.”

Everyone shuffles around agreements but Mina is quick to argue; “have any of you guys ever seen Bakugou’s soulmate mark?” Slowly, one by one, all glancing at each other, the guys shake their heads. Mina then turns to the girls. “Okay, have any of you ever seen Y/N’s? Cause she’s never shown or told me.”

The girls all shake their heads.

“So how can you really know?” Mina raises a brow, “I mean, Y/N is always so secretive about her mark. She refuses to tell me.”

-

“Bakugou, we have—”

“Katsuki.”

Coming to a sharp halt, lips left parted, you blink up at Bakugou.

With a grin, Bakugou gently shuts your mouth with a hand to your jaw, laughing lightly; “say Katsuki. That’s my name.”

You can feel your cheeks warm, profusely, and a burst of heat flood through you as you pull yourself from his touch, avoiding his gaze. “Katsuki,” you oblige with a huff and a pout. “We have a problem.”

“Yes?” Bakugou asks, raising a brow your way as he lowers the weight’s he’d been lifting.

“The girls are onto us!”

Bakugou just stares down at you. “What does that mean?”

Exasperated at his obliviousness, you huff, stretching your hands out before you for emphasis as you stare up at him, wide-eyed. “They know I’ve been disappearing after class a lot. I tried to tell them I was training, which I guess we usually are but Jirou caught on to that being a lie too and now they’re onto us!”

Bakugou just blinks. “But what do you mean onto us?”

You let out a cry; “Katsuki! They’re gonna know we’re soulmates!”

“So?”

Pressing a hand to your face, you can’t believe your situation. Not only were the girls onto you, they knew you were lying, which made you feel awful and if they found out that you’d been spending all your time with Bakugou… well that was bound to bring up more questions. Questions you wouldn’t be able to avoid. Questions that would ultimately lead to them finding out Bakugou was your soulmate.

A hand gently reaches for your wrists, pulling your hands away from your face as Bakugou crouches to meet your eyes directly. 

“Why is it such a big deal?” He asks gently, an odd tone that you’re still not used to hearing from Bakugou yet. His face remains neutral but there’s patience lingering in his eyes as he waits for you to explain why you’re so upset.

And you do. Your lips part and the words are at the tip of your tongue until, suddenly, you can’t say anything.

Nothing leaves your lips.

“Y/N?”

“I…—”

“You don’t want them to know?”

Blinking, you bite your lip. “It’s not that, it’s just…” But again, you can’t find the words.

“You don’t trust them?”

“Of course I do,” you argue instantly, “they’re my best friends.”

“Okay…” he says slowly, and then his face twists, “are you… embarrassed of me?”

Meeting his gaze, you frown. “...No,” you whisper, and you mean the words.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I…” Shoulders falling, you frown. “Nothing… I guess.”

“So,” he says, “let them find out!”

Sputtering, you lean back; “it’s not like you’ve told Kirishima or any of the other guys!”

“It’s none of their business,” Bakugou shrugs, letting go of your wrists to set his hand on your head. “But if it makes you feel better, I'll tell them.”

You find yourself silent with disbelief once again, Bakugou’s words echoing in your mind paired with the look in his eyes. Just staring down at you.

Looking at you.

Like you’re his whole world.

-

“I’m sorry.”

They blink at you.

“I’m sorry about running away yesterday.”

Another blink.

“And I'm sorry I’ve been lying to you guys for the past few weeks.”

Slowly, all the girls glance at each other, trying to gauge the situation, before Uraraka is the first to speak up.

“It’s okay,” she assures with a smile, setting her hand on your shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. “We appreciate you apologizing. We were just worried.”

“We wanna make sure you’re okay,” Jirou adds, smiling shyly at you. 

You take a look at all of their faces, seeing the sincerity staring back at you, before settling on Mina who still has a hint of hurt in her eyes but there’s also hope.

Well, here goes nothing.

“Bakugou’s my soulmate.”

Silence echoes, once again, before.

“What?”

“I knew it!”

“Bakugou!?”

There’s a mix of words, gasps of disbelief and shouts of question thrown out at you as all the girls rush towards you, swarming you, desperate for answers.

You laugh a little at their reaction, and that catches their attention.

“Y/N?” Mina asks, confused.

“I’ve been sneaking off to see him,” you explain to her, meeting her gaze, before letting your gaze drift. “I didn’t say anything because I’m still adjusting to it myself and I still don’t know how to feel about it. But I realized it isn’t fair to lie to you guys like that and that I want you guys to know because you matter so much to me.”

“Y/N…” Uraraka mumbles, tears welling in her eyes.

Her expression mimics many of the other girls before suddenly there’s a body slamming against your own, arms wrapping tightly around your waist as you stumble back, trying to catch your footing.

“Oh. My. God!” Mina screams, you wincing at the sheer volume, as she pulls back, grinning brightly at you. “You have to tell us everything!”

-

The next morning, you’re sitting at the island in the kitchen eating breakfast, chatting to Mina, Jirou and Kirishima. The rest of the students trickle by, some making breakfast, some in the living room, all in their own conversations, until suddenly it all stops.

It takes you a moment to realize Kirishima, Mina and Jirou are no longer listening to you, head turned to their right and following their gaze, curious, you blink when you realize it’s Bakugou they’re staring at. It’s not like he’s doing anything particularly odd, nothing except for the fact that his gaze is directed on you and he’s heading straight for you and then suddenly, he’s right in front of you.

His gaze drifts from you, to your plate, back to you; “who made you that?”

“Nobody,” you say slowly, still stunned. “I made it.”

He’s grabbing the plate before you can say anything else, pressing a kiss to your forehead that has your cheeks burning before turning and making his way to the fridge.

“I’ll make you something better,” is all he says in explanation.

Your gaze slowly drifts from him to Mina and Jirou who are grinning widely at you, before there’s the shout of;

“Did Bakubro just kiss Y/N?!”

“And offer to make her breakfast!”

“Wait,” Kirishima suddenly calls after Sero and Denki, turning to Mina and Jirou, “why are two grinning!?”

“All the girls are!” Deku exclaims, pointing at Uraraka and Froppy in front of him.

“You guys knew?”

“Of course,” Mina grins, sending a wink Kirishima’s way before shrugging. “Isn’t that right, Bakugou? You and Y/N are soulmates!”

Everyone expects him to ignore her or tell her to shut up, but instead, he pauses in what he’d been doing (cracking an egg for you), turning his head over his shoulders to meet your gaze before smirking. 

“That’s right.”

And chaos follows.

Utter and complete chaos.

#mha #mha x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader

[obxone]

Pogue Like Me (Part Two)

Edited-ish. ~4.9k words

Tag list: @gillybear17 @i-love-rafe @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @nomorespahgetti @lmg-stilinski24 @f4ll-for-you

Warning: drug use

Master Page

“Cameron!” You call as you walk across the path into the golf course. Rafe’s head jerks up to see you. “Got a second?”

“Sure.”

“Alone…” You fade out and look at Topper and Kelce. Neither moves for a moment, but both sport a knowing smirk. You roll your eyes. So, much for your secret staying safe with the kook prince.

He bobs his head after considering your request. He glances at his friends. Both look as equally surprised as you when he speaks. “Give me a second?”

“Sure, man,” Kelce responds first, his dark eyes dragging over you while he claps Rafe on the shoulder. 

“Enjoy your time with the pogue. We’ll be kicking your ass in the meantime.” Topper winks at you. An ickiness spreads through you from his actions, but you push it aside. Kelce laughs at Topper’s joke, but you notice Rafe does not even crack a smile. 

Instead, he stares at you, and you know he is trying to figure out what you want. It is extremely unlike you to seek out the kook prince for anything, much less a private conversation. You wait for them to get far enough away that they are out of earshot. 

“What’s up?” He leans on his golf club once you are in the safe zone. “I’m kind of busy here.”

“Oh, I can tell,” you quip back. “Must be really hard to get it in the right holes, huh?”

He chuckles, leaning toward you. “If you had stuck around the other night, you would know how well I can get it into the right hole.”

A hot blush spreads from your chest, up your neck, and fans over your face. He laughs, enjoying your reaction. The feel of his hand touching you and how it felt to have his finger stroking you flood your memories with warmth blooms in your lower belly. 

“What do you need, hmm?” He asks, a teasing tilt to his voice, breaking you out of your thoughts. “Need me to pop your cherry?”

You huff and smack his chest. He laughs before his gloved fingers hook into the pocket of your server apron, yanking you closer to him. 

“Because I will gladly do it.” 

“I bet, just another notch of your bedpost, right?”

He chuckles before shrugging. “I like to keep count.”

“Gross, Rafe!” You groan and shove at his chest. He laughs but keeps his fingers hooked into your pocket to keep you less than an inch or so away. “So much for our little secret, huh?” You ask, hands planted on his chest to keep at least some distance between you. 

His face screws up in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

You jerk your chin towards the hill Topper and Kelce have just disappeared over. “Those two know. It is no secret if it doesn’t stay between us.”

“I didn’t tell them shit, Babe.”

You flush hotter at the name before looking back at him. “Oh. They seemed like they knew.”

“Well, we aren’t exactly friends, pretty girl, so they know something is up. What do you need?”

“About the other night…”

“I said it was a secret, Pogue.”

Your eyes narrow as you watch him. “Can I finish?”

He rolls his shoulders in a shrug before waiting. 

“Thanks. So, what I was saying is it made me start thinking, and I need help with my situation.”

“With JJ?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, what do you need help with?”

You look down at your shoes to try and find the courage to ask this before you lift your chin to meet his gaze again. “To not feel anything… for him anymore.”

“You want more coke?”

“No.” You cringe with a shake of your head. “I want to be like you and your fellow kook buddies, I want to be able to turn off the emotional side.”

He laughs before patting your hip. “I’m sure you intended that as an insult.”

“Maybe,” you giggle before touching his arm. His arm muscles jump when your fingertips make contact. “But I am serious. I want to stop caring about him and about Kie and him. I want to move on.”

He smirks. “I figured it was Kiara.”

“Can you help me or not?”

“What would I get out of it?” He asks, his attention shifting to something over your head before he looks back down at you.

“Free drinks for a month.” 

He studies you before tipping his head. “Three months.”

“Deal.”

“It’s a deal.” He agrees before tugging you closer again. His head drops, and your breath hitches as his face nears yours. “We can start now, all right?” 

You nod once, hand gripping his bicep tightly, the other still pressed against his chest. The heat of his body against yours and the summer sun beaming down on you make your head spin. His cologne slowly intoxicates you once more. “Yeah.”

“Then relax, pretty girl,” he murmurs, his nose nearly brushing yours. A smile plays on his lips, and he watches you before he leans further into you. His lips drag along your cheek to your ear. If you could bet, you would bet your tips for the day that he could hear your heart beating wildly in your chest. His proximity sends your body on high alert, and your fingers tighten in the material of his polo around his waist. “We are being watched.”

“Rafe,” you whisper when he looks over your shoulder. “What are you doing this for exactly?”

A satisfied smirk stretches across his face before his lips press against your forehead briefly. “JJ is watching, and he is pissed.”

“Ah,” you muse, letting his shirt go. “I see.” You tip your face to look at him. “You also get that out of this deal.”

“I can work with that.”

You laugh before he steps back and jerks his chin. “Go to work, pretty girl. I’ll find you later.”

“Have fun golfing,” you return before taking a step back. “See you later, Cameron.”

You turn on your heel and make your way back towards the Island Club. JJ stands at the top of the stairs, waiting for you, with a screwed up look on his face.

“What is that?” He asks, his hands gripping a pitcher of water tightly. 

“What?” You ask, fishing your notepad out of your apron pocket. You know what he is talking about, but after the other night you can feel your feelings starting to harden. You were not sure if you could still be best friends with him anymore. And pain spreads out like spiders across your skin as you think about ending your friendship with him. Because at the end of the day, P4L only lasted for as long as the rules were followed.

“That!” He points, shoving his finger toward where you had previously stood with Rafe. You glance over your shoulder, but Rafe is nowhere to be found. “With Rafe Cameron.”

You stare at JJ, eyebrows raising before you shake your head at him. “Nothing, JJ. Let it go.”

You pass him to start your shift waiting on Island Club members. A few hours and you could dip out and go home for a nice hot shower. 

“He can’t be trusted, you know that!”

“JJ!” You snap, spinning to stare at him. “Let it go!”

He frowns at you before he shakes his head. “Why won’t you talk to me?”

“I’m working, and so are you,” you mutter, glancing at Alice as she points to your new table. The breeze coming in from the sea blows your hair around, and you sigh, wishing it could carry you away. A potential summer storm brewing meant busy tables all afternoon. “I have a table waiting.”

“Fine,” he mutters. “But I want to talk. Soon. You and me.”

“Okay,” you relent, but you do not meet his eyes before you turn and hurry over to your new table. You are not ready to talk to him yet. You are not ready to either pretend your feelings never existed or confess and shut yourself off from him. As of right now, these are the only two options you can see, and with the help of Rafe, you hope you can save your friendship. 

Alice hooks her arm through yours as you exit the Island Club. You exhale a sigh of relief that another day is done. “How much did you make in tips?” She asks you, straightening her purse as you follow the others out into the parking lot. 

“$550… I think.” You try to remember how much you counted out. 

“I only made $375.”

You shrug. “Old men like the young girls. It is so creepy, but it pays the bills. Maybe let Elle seat you with the grandpas...”

She laughs. “Not happening, I have to find myself a rich young husband.”

“Sugar daddies can be any age,” you tease her. 

She elbows you while laughing, and it fades out. You see it the same time she does. Rafe Cameron is staring at you, a cocky smirk on his face when all the other staff you walked out with notice him. He looks good, too damn good for your own well-being as he leans against his bike. His ballcap is on backward, and his polo stretches across his wide shoulders. His arms crossed over his chest to show off how much he works out. You clear your throat, slow down your steps, and try to ignore the feel of his eyes on you. 

“Don’t think that no one saw what happened on the golf course earlier,” Alice whispers to you. Her hand wraps around your forearm in barely contained excitement. “Or tell everyone else about it after.”

“What?” You turn to look at her with wide eyes. 

She grins. “It’s not every day that the kook prince makes out with a pogue.”

“We weren’t making out.”

She arches an eyebrow, and you stare back at her, not breaking under her scrutinizing gaze until she groans. “Fine. I should’ve known they were lying, and you’d never let him. Not when you only have eyes for a certain blond surfer.”

You blush, your gaze tracking across the other faces to see JJ. He is staring at you, not at all pleased with the sight of Rafe Cameron waiting for you. He did promise to find you later, and it seems later has arrived.

“So, I take it you don’t need a ride?” Alice murmurs as she retracts her arm from yours. “Incoming…”

“Ready to get out of here?” Rafe’s lips brush the shell of your ear as his hand hooks around your waist.

Alice winks before walking backward a few steps. You blush hot as you turn your face to look at him. He grins, glancing at the other staff members watching you both. 

“Smooth, Rafe. Real smooth.”

He chuckles before leading you toward his bike. 

“Can I ask a question?” You start as you put your backpack on properly, and he grabs his helmet. “Two, actually.”

“Sure.” He slides the helmet into place on your head, and you meet his gaze as he focuses on buckling the strap under your chin.

“How did you know when I was getting off? And what are we doing?”

“Alice told me after I asked-”

“That bitch!” You laugh, and he cannot help but to smile a little at your outburst. 

“And we are going to Tanneyhill.” He states as the buckle clips into place. His blue eyes drift up to yours. “Figured we could start today.”

“You don’t have plans?”

“Not today.” He shrugs, climbing on his bike. You do not miss the smirk he throws in JJ’s direction. He is the only one still watching, his expression anything but his usual happiness when you both get off work together. His ocean blue eyes are hard and full of fire as he glares at Rafe before they flicker to you. He tips his head, and you look away to Rafe, his knowing look making you uneasy.

You slide on behind Rafe when he is ready for you. His hand squeezes your thigh, and you wrap your arms around him, your palms pressing against his abs. He grins and glances once more at JJ with a wink before he peels out of the Island Club parking lot. 

You close your eyes, willing your heart to stay where it belongs as he drives towards Tanneyhill. Being forced to pay for this later is an understatement, and you know that as you feel JJ’s angry stare still burning into you. He would tell the others, and they would surely press you for answers. 

Before you know it and can worry over the situation, you are at Tanneyhill and climbing off the back of Rafe’s bike. He reaches to unbuckle the helmet before you remove it and glance at the grandeur that is his home. 

“So… I’m definitely going to be criticized now,” you mumble while still staring at the house. “Did it make you feel good at least?”

He laughs, grabbing your hand and tugging you towards the front door. “Mhmm.”

“Mhmm?” You question, following him, your fingers gripping his hand tightly. “That is all you can say when you are going to cause my friends to burn me at the stake.” 

He leads you inside before shutting the door behind you. He heads straight for the staircase, and you tug his hand trying to slow him down. Nerves explode inside you that you are alone and in his home with him. The joke about him popping your cherry makes your body tighten with anxiety. “Do I at least get a tour?”

“Later,” he responds, glancing back at you. “Come on.”

You sigh before following him up the stairs. He pushes open a door to the right as soon as you hit the second landing. 

“Go on,” he mumbles, and you dip under his arm, and into his bedroom. He closes and locks the door behind him before turning to you. 

You spin to look at the locked handle before looking at him. “What are we doing?”

“Don’t want Sarah barging in here after that show with JJ.”

“Fair.” You shrug and turn to look at his desk. “He’ll tell them, won’t he?”

“He’s your friend. I have more blow if you want it.”

“Huh?” You ask, turning to look at him instead of the trinkets, photos, and other items littering his desk. “Oh, I think that was a one time thing for me, Rafe.”

“Why?”

You shrug. “Weed is more my thing, remember?”

He smirks before grabbing a box from a drawer in his dresser. “Works for me.”

“Why do you do it?”

Rafe tips his head as he watches you before shaking his head. “Doesn’t matter.” He nears you, jerking his chin at his bed. “Go ahead.”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and he smirks. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he breathes, nearing you and tugging at the Island Club shirt you wear. “I’m taking payment for pissing off your boy crush.” You roll your eyes, but panic spreads through you.

“Why?”

“Remember what I did on your birthday?”

You nod.

“I want to do it again.” He grins. “You make it sweeter.”

You laugh it off, but the blush spreads over your face anyways. “Let me guess… stay still again?”

He grins at you before sitting on the end of his bed with the box. “Yes.”

“Does it work better this way?” You ask. You know the answer, it does not, but you want him to tell you why he needs your skin again when you are sure he had something else to use. You cannot help yourself, and your hands brush against his shoulders when he moves over you. His lips touch yours, and your breath hitches. His hands bunch your shirt up before he tugs it up and off you, and your hair fans out over his pillow. He would never admit it out loud, but he enjoys the way you look in his bed, topless and relaxed. You bite your lip, begging your body not to blush from his wandering eyes. He kisses you, and you kiss him back while allowing his body to slip between your legs and press against you. “Does it?” You breathe once he stops kissing you. 

“Nope.”

You scoff with an eye roll. “Then why am I shirtless in your bed, Rafe?”

“I told you; you make it sweeter, pretty girl.” His thumb strokes across your bottom lip. “Don’t move.”

You lay still and watch him form a line near your collarbone before he snorts it. His eyes flutter shut, and he groans when his high hits him. His lips find yours in a messy kiss after. His body presses to yours, and his hand moves up to cup your breast. He gropes and kneads the swell of your breast under his palm, groaning at the feel of you so open for him again. You moan into his mouth, brushing your core against his. He groans after you do. Reaching down his back, you bunch his shirt up to pull it off him, and he lets you before you toss it away. 

His upper body is magnificent, and he lets you admire him. Your fingertips trail over him, touching every curve and dip of muscle on display for you. 

“You know, if you want me naked, you just have to ask,” he teases you.

You close your eyes, tipping your head when his mouth attaches to your neck. You hum in delight, ignoring the sane side of you begging you to stop him. He rolls his hips against yours, and you can feel how hard and ready he is already. You gasp when he does it again and smirks against your skin. 

But then the weight of his body vanishes as he rolls away, laying on the bed beside you. You nearly whine at the loss of him on top of you. A coolness spreads over your skin. The feeling of his lips on your throat and the feel of his hands dragging over your waist lingers, and he watches you, waiting for you to make the next move. When you do not, he pulls himself up to sit against his headboard, his hand dropping to touch your hair. His fingers intertwine within your hair absentmindedly. 

“For someone who says they don’t know how to turn it off, I’m impressed,” he muses. His eyes are pinned, and he seems more at ease in his bed than he did in the back of his daddy’s Range Rover. 

You laugh before sitting yourself up as well. “You make it easier.” You bite your lip, and you look at your hands. Nervousness spreads through you as you confess your true thoughts. “You blur the lines of reason. It helps that you were there for my first cocaine-fueled high, gave me my first kiss, and were the first guy to touch me like this.”

He laughs before tucking the box holding his cocaine stash into his nightstand. His high helps him miss your words, and you thank the stars he has as your cheeks burn.

“It’s about to get a lot easier.”

You roll your eyes at him before smiling. “Promise?”

A knock on your front door catches your attention as you work on transferring items from your backpack to your purse. “It’s open!” You call, and the door swings open to reveal JJ. He lets himself in before shutting it behind him and wandering further into the living room. 

“Kiara sent me to give you a ride.”

“Thanks,” you mutter as you shoulder your crossbody. “Gram’s car needs more than a transmission, it seems.”

He frowns. “I could take a look.”

You do not respond for a second and instead, grab your house keys from the hook by the door before you open it to usher him out first. He stares at you, waiting for a response.

“Don’t worry about it. Jamie is handling it for me.”

“Jamie?”

“Yeah, the guy that runs the auto shop by Van’s bike store.”

“Ah.” He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his cargo shorts as you focus on locking up the house.

“I could’ve taken my bicycle or walked, JJ.”

“I know, but I want to talk.”

You frown and look at him as you slide your sunglasses into place. “Fine. Let’s talk on the way.”

He nods, gesturing to the Twinkie. John B had allowed him to borrow it. And you know he asked to borrow it on purpose so that he could force you to talk to him. You shut your door and settle into the seat as he turns the engine over. 

He glances at you when he begins to turn out of your driveway. “So, you and Rafe are a thing…?”

You frown and adjust the seatbelt before turning to look at him. “Really, Jay?”

He groans, gripping the wheel. “Are you?”

“JJ Maybank!” You snap and glare at him. “Is this really what you wanted to talk about? Why you borrowed the Twinkie so that you could talk to me?”

“Yes, you would not talk to me at work!”

You roll your eyes. “You’re being a baby.”

“I’m your best friend! Or did you forget that?” He glares out the windshield as he turns onto the main road. 

“No! No, JJ, I didn’t forget that!” You snap back at him. “But maybe you did when you hid your relationship with Kie from me for three fucking weeks!”

He splutters in shock, and you turn away. 

“Just drive, this conversation is over.”

He is silent as he finds a parking spot before he turns to look at you. You cannot look at him. Anger and desire burn within you when you do. 

“I need to know, okay?” He says, ruffling his blond hair. “Please!”

“Know what?” You ask, trying to calm yourself as you fidget with your skirt. 

“About you and Rafe.”

“No, you don’t. I said it was done!” You pull the handle on the door and let yourself out before slamming the van door close. You pace a few steps away before spinning to glare at him through the rolled down window. “Until you decide to be a decent friend again, don’t bother showing up again!”

You stalk away and enter the café. Kiara and Sarah both look up from the table as you slide into the booth. “Are you two going to demand answers too?” You snap. They had asked for lunch this morning before Kiara said JJ would pick you up. It is starting to feel like a setup if you are being honest. 

Sarah’s mouth falls open, and Kiara leans back as if you have swung at her. 

“What happened?” Kiara asks, glancing out the front glass windows to see the Twinkie still idling there. “Is JJ okay?”

“JJ is fine, Kie.” You glare at her, unable to help yourself. “But please go console your boyfriend if you feel the need.”

Her lips fall apart, and Sarah gasps, looking down at the menu in shock. You huff, leaning back against the back of the booth. Your hands fall helplessly beside you, and your eyes close. You exhale a steadying breath before opening them again to look at your friends. 

“What the hell happened?” Kiara asks, her voice soft and concerned. 

You close your eyes again for a moment before sitting up straight and spreading the napkin over your lap. 

“JJ was being pushy, and you know how I am with being pushed.”

“We do,” Sarah agrees, swirling her paper straw around in her cup. The ice cubes clink as she does so. You watch a small water tornado form in the glass before you meet her gaze again. Her eyes shine with sympathy for you, but you cannot acknowledge it right now or you will break down and cry. 

“So,” you say gently. “I snapped, and I’m not sure we are friends right now.”

“Whoa,” Kiara gasps. “I don’t understand, you guys are like siblings.”

You swallow, looking at the menu, and away from her as your heart feels the sharpest cut at her words. Deep down you know that they are not her words, but JJ’s words that he never spoke aloud to you. “Yeah… siblings.”

Sarah frowns, watching you with the most heartbreaking look. Her hand reaches across to brush yours now that you are messing with the menu. Her fingers curl around your palm, and she squeezes it tightly. “What was it about?”

You groan, closing the menu with a sharp snap of your wrist. “Your brother.”

“My brother?!”

“Yep,” you retort before turning to Kiara. She frowns when you suspect she already knows even if Sarah does not.

“JJ thinks they are dating, in secret,” Kiara says, smoothing her hands over the pristine tabletop. 

“What?” Sarah laughs and looks from Kiara to you. You shrug, lips pressed into a thin line. “Since when?”

“Two days ago at the Island Club,” Kiara adds in because you will not. “They were kissing-”

“First off, we were not kissing,” you snap, and her eyes dart away. “He asked me for a fresh drink and was flirting. He touched me, and that is it. He never kissed me despite the rumor mill.”

“So he didn’t kiss your forehead?” She asks, looking at the menu you are picking away at the corner of. “Because from how JJ saw it the kiss seemed really intimate.”

Sarah’s jaw almost hits the table as her mouth falls open in shock. “What?!”

You roll your eyes and lift the menu. “He did, but it was only to piss off JJ. He wants to stir up shit, and you guys are letting him.”

“Okay.” Sarah lifts her hands in innocence. “I know nothing of this.”

“I know,” you concede before closing your eyes again. “I’m just tired of everyone expecting me to be the quiet, lonely pogue of the group.”

“We don’t expect that,” Kiara mumbles, and you stare at her with a knowing look until she folds. “Fine, that is how it is, but that is not what we expect. It’s… Rafe, y/n.”

“I’m aware of who it is, Kie.”

She sighs before reaching across to squeeze your other hand. “Just… JJ is worried that is all.”

“JJ was not too worried when he was sticking his tongue down your throat at my birthday party, was he?”

Sarah gasps, and Kiara yanks her hand back as if you have burned her. 

“You said you were glad we are happy.”

“I lied, Kiara!” You snap back at her. “Okay, everyone was staring at me, and I was trying to be a good friend.”

“Okay.”

“You know what,” you huff, “this is a bad idea. I’m going home. I’ll talk to you guys when I can.”

“Wait, what?!” Sarah starts to slip out of the booth at the same time as you. Your eyes lock, and she sighs, dropping back into the booth. “Do you have a ride?”

“I’ll walk,” you mutter as you shoulder your bag again. “I need the space to think.”

Kiara stays silent, not meeting your gaze as you turn and leave without looking back.

The door chime sounds as you push it open before stepping out of the air-conditioned café into the summer heat. You exhale and turn away from the path home and instead head for the docks. 

It feels suffocating, and you want to rip the weight from your chest as you throw yourself down onto a bench overlooking the water and empty fishing boat docks. 

“Are you okay?” A voice asks as someone sits beside you. You glance to see Kelce, and your eyes widen. He chuckles before kicking his legs out. “I know, but from what I hear you are good people.”

You laugh and turn back to the water. “I think I just lost my entire friend group, Kelc.”

He frowns, reaching across to hook his arm around your shoulder before patting your upper arm. “The pogues mad about you and Rafe?”

“Me and Rafe?” You ask, the alarm clear in your voice. You push his arm off your shoulders and turn to look at him. 

“Yeah,” he muses with a shrug. “You guys seemed pretty okay with one another a few days ago. He said he was helping you with something.”

“Ah,” you clue in and thank Rafe for not telling all your secrets. “Yeah, they don’t trust him.”

He snorts. “Pogues always blaming the kooks.”

You frown and glance at the street behind Kelce’s shoulder. “What are you doing at the docks, Kelc?”

He shrugs. “I come here to think sometimes.” You lift an eyebrow, and he laughs, running his hand over his mouth. “I get stressed out sometimes too.”

“Fair,” you laugh before patting his arm as he rests it over the back of the bench. Your feet tuck in next to his thigh as you continue to sit facing him. “Where are your buddies?”

“You mean where is Rafe?” He teases. 

You shove his arm playfully, and he laughs. 

“I don’t know. Topper is still sulking about Sarah, and Rafe said he had to run an errand.”

“Ah,” you clue in. Rafe is probably at Barry’s. 

“You need a ride somewhere?”

You smile weakly before leaning back against the bench and watching the water. “In a bit, if that’s okay.”

“No problem,” he agrees and turns to look at the water too. “Should I text Rafe?”

“No,” you whisper, ignoring the replay of your fight with JJ and then Kiara. “I just want to stop and sit for a second.”

(Part Three)

Reblogs, likes, and comments are welcome and appreciated!

#outer banks #obx #rafe cameron #outer banks rafe cameron #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron x y/n

[sctumsempra]

going insane and i need to infodump about severus snape’s patronus being a doe for a second. i personally don’t think it changed, or lily necessarily influenced it- i think it’s always been a doe, casting the charm in dumbledore’s office was meant to show that he and lily were supposed to be viscerally aligned with each other and he knows he fucked it up and that’s why he’s spent almost two decades trying to atone for what he did. on a representative level, the doe symbolizes peace, protection, and innocence, and no three words could possibly represent severus snape more.

all he wants is peace: a peaceful life for himself, a peaceful world, a peaceful school. everything he’s ever done has been to create as much peace as possible. some of it can be considered misguided from a black and white moral standpoint, but it’s what created peace for himself. for example, aligning himself with the purist views of his housemates made him less of a target for bullying- he’s not a pure blood, and they’d know, and having powerful ambitious students on your side instead of alienating yourself from everyone means you have at least a semblance of protection from harm some of the time. he becomes a double agent for dumbledore to help bring about peace from voldemort’s reign. it might not have been peaceful for him per se, but it was still with the intention of peace in some form. he tries to give other people peace- he takes a vow with narcissa to protect her son because she’s crying and scared for him, and it gives her peace. he doesn’t throw draco under the bus to save his skin when voldemort accuses him of being the elder wands owner, giving draco and narcissa peace even if they weren’t aware. it’s either for himself, or for others.

he’s the most protective teacher at the school- would mcgonagall have thrown herself in front of three kids facing a wolfsbane-less werewolf? would flitwick take the burden of an unbreakable vow to protect draco malfoy from voldemort? would any of the DADA teachers have run towards the sound of a screaming woman? he consistently vows to protect everyone and everything he can. and, leading into his innocence, when he realizes he’s only been protecting harry for him to die, it breaks him.

he’s not necessarily innocent in that his hands are clean and he’s never done anything wrong in his life, but he’s innocent in that he’s naive. he trusted voldemort enough to be drawn into the death eaters, he trusted dumbledore enough to be manipulated into his bidding. it feels like he forgets that dumbledore screws him over constantly, dangles things in front of him and takes them away, makes crude assumptions, and has left him to fend for himself essentially their entire relationship. the times that dumbledore abandons him- physically, mentally, metaphorically- he gets very upset. like it’s new information to him that dumbledore treats him like shit. from an abuse perspective, he probably had to spend his childhood mentally erasing what his parents and home were like so he could feel safe and normal, so the constant ebb and flow/back and forth of his and dumbledore’s relationship is familiar to him. when dumbledore draws him back in with whatever method, he’s right back to behaving as dumbledore wants, doing what dumbledore wants, and believing what dumbledore believes. the times that he remembers that dumbledore doesn’t care that he let the guy who’s tried to kill him or assault go, or that dumbledore thinks he wants only lily saved because he desires her romantically or sexually, or that dumbledore has only been using harry and, by extension, him (as he’s been the one protecting harry) to play the long game of destroying voldemort are the times that he’s emotional in the books. he cries, he’s vulnerable, he raises his voice, he begs and he pleads and he defers. he doesn’t do that any other time, other than when he found harry watching his memories. he trusts and he forgives (or he forgets, or he feels safer pretending he doesn’t care what’s been done to him/how he’s been treated.) a doe is perfect for him. reducing it to something like tonk’s patronus being changed as soon as she’s in a relationship with lupin or that it’s only a doe because of lily evans completely erases his entire way of thinking and behaving and being.

also, in a self indulgent addendum, it’s a very feminine animal, and severus is consistently aligned with femininity. hermione calls the half-blood prince’s writing feminine. he wears his mother’s clothes as a child, and lupin encourages neville to dress his boggart as his grandmother. he’s quiet and docile and tries to be non-violent unless he’s pushed to his breaking point, and even then it’s screaming or crying or getting animated. he’s emotional and frequently painted as hysterical. he gets the “woman character treatment”: to the average viewer who doesn’t think about him long enough to understand otherwise, he only desires lily. the consensus is that he chases her, he only thinks about her in the context of attraction. the line about looking at her greedily is constantly understood to be lust, and not a desire for love or a desire for a peaceful relationship for once in his life (and a relationship that only ever seems to be platonic at that). he even backs off and all but disappears from her life when he’s asked to, while james (the one with the stag patronus, the classic triumphant male character) harasses her and pursues her and behaves in a way that makes his son decades later wonder if he forced lily into a relationship. he’s behaviorally aligned with what femininity in the eyes of misogyny is supposed to be. he keeps to himself, he’s quiet, he sacrifices every bit of himself for students and coworkers and superiors and expects nothing in return, he pushes his students to be the best they can. (i’d say nurtures with my whole chest, but as the narrative comes from harry, we can’t really be sure. in my view, his house won the house cup for several years in a row which was only interrupted by dumbledore awarding a fuck ton of points to his gryffindor prize pony, his classes are seen as high performing and advanced by even dolores umbridge of all people, he only tries to punish students albeit a bit violently after several attempts of getting them to understand why what they did was wrong, which seems to be pretty nurturing in comparison to what other teachers allow and do). whether he’s trans, or had been influenced more by eileen, or he was intended to be deeply complex and contradictory and that meant that he had to have these traits, or any other of the multitude of reasons for snape being an inherently feminine character, it’s there. his patronus wouldn’t be a stag, he wouldn’t be anything overbearing and he wouldn’t be anything aggressive. it doesn’t make sense with his soul and his personality and his life. the peaceful protective innocent/naive doe, however, does.

#severus snape #snape #pro snape #patronus #snape meta #severus snape meta #i’m going insane #i wrote this at work. i couldn’t sit with all of this in my head anymore #he’s the character ever #he deserves the coziest quietest little life ever. i hope he gets it in his next one #he’s so tragic and misunderstood and villainized. i might be crying a little #i could literally talk about him and all of this for hours i just figured i should stop where i was #she’s giving novel

[celestial-toys]

Paralyzed

As your shift in the daycare came to a close today, something triggered a terrible panicking trauma response in you. You've locked yourself in the storage closet in an attempt to get away from it all. When Sun eventually manages to get the door open, his heart breaks at the state he finds you in. Cue 4k words of ensuing caretaking and comfort.

Pairing: Sun/Reader/Moon Word Count: 6,014 Contains: [NSSI/Self-Harm] [panic] [PTSD] [crying] [emotional & physical hurt/comfort] [bandaging wounds] [undressing (not the sexy kind)] [caretaking] [cuddling] [literal sleeping together] [established relationship] [GN!Reader]

“Sunshine? I know you’re hurting right now… but you need to let me in there with you so I can help…”

A faint rattling comes from the locked doorknob, shortly followed by silence.

You barely hear it from where you’re slumped, back against the far wall of the pitch dark supply closet.

You’re far too consumed in your own suffering to even consider the impact of your actions right now. You have to make these feelings stop. You have to make it all go away. You can’t take anymore today.

Through your panicked haze and ragged breathing, your ears barely pick up on the faint sound of metallic tinkering, and Sun’s muttering on the other side of the door.

“Oh, for heavens sake… why does the supply closet even have the ability to lock from the inside in the first place?”

Your panicked breaths come faster and faster, until you begin to feel lightheaded from it all. The pain of your memories. The fear of whatever trigger had set you off this time. The shame of causing Sun such distress, having to see you like this.

You told yourself you’d never let them see you in such a state, yet here you fucking are. Trembling and soaked in sweat, tears, and snot, curled up on the cold tile of the supply closet floor.

It was bound to happen eventually, you suppose. You could lie and say you were doing better but this always comes back to drag you down again eventually.

You register the sound of a bolt shifting, before a few small screws fall down and roll across the floor in different directions. You watch the door creak open slightly, and thin, long robotic fingers snake their way around the edge and take hold of the loose doorknob before it can fall and clatter to the floor.

You feel your stomach drop at the knowledge that your time in hiding has come to an end. The door swings open slowly, the daycare’s bright lights casting into the room. The light makes a path all the way across the floor, from the open doorway across to your darkened form curled uncomfortably in the back, like a wild animal, cornered.

You lift your head enough to glance at him and you catch the sight of his silhouette, backlit in a way that has him looking more intimidating than he likely realizes. You instinctively curl back down into yourself and miss the way he subconsciously shrinks in on himself when he sees your apparent fear.

He’s the last person on earth that you should fear. He just wants to help you. He was built for this, wasn’t he? Taking care of the vulnerable?

Why’d they have to make him look so terrifying, then?

He pushes his own thoughts aside, his hand curling around the doorframe in search of the light switch. He quickly locates it, flipping it up and flooding the room with fluorescent light.

The proper sight of you breaks his mechanical heart.

Your hair is an absolute mess and your clothes are all bunched up around you as you’ve contorted yourself to take up the least amount of space possible. Like someone was trying to hurt you even though you were alone in here. He doesn’t even need to do a full body scan to tell that you have been hurt, actually. When his optics pass over your left hand, warning signs flash across his vision.

Injured. You’re injured.

In his daycare. Under his supervision.

Oh, no. No no no no no.

Not you. Not like this. Not ever.

He has to fix it. Fix you. Make it better.

Yes. Yes, he can make it better. He- he can fix this. It’ll be okay. You’ll be okay. You have to be. He… needs you. They both do. You have to be okay.

They’ll make it better.

You keep your head tucked away into the pulled-up hood of your jacket, waiting. You don’t even know what you’re waiting for, exactly. Yelling? Screaming? Panic? Anger? Disappointment? Rough hands, grabbing, pulling, hurting you again?

If you were thinking straight right now you’d know this isn’t necessary. You’d remember where you are, and who you’re with, and that you are absolutely safe here. Sun and Moon wouldn’t ever lay a hand on you in anything other than love. Their touches don’t hurt. Neither do their words.

You’re not thinking straight right now, though. Your mind is somewhere else entirely. Completely caught up in the past, your mind replaying all the bad that you’ve ever encountered, like it’s trying to teach you a lesson you already know. Trying to warn you of a threat that is no longer there.

Sun slowly lowers himself to the floor and makes his way over to you on all fours in the least terrifying way he can.

His voice is about as quiet as he can get it to go but you still flinch when he breaks the silence.

“Sunshine, are you here with me right now? Can you hear me?”

You’re about halfway here and halfway gone, to be completely honest, but you manage to nod your head, the movement stiff and jerky. Your muscles are all so goddamn tense it’s a wonder you can move at all.

“Do you think you can take a deep breath for me?”

You try to, and fail miserably, the air catching in your throat and coming back out as a choked sob. Gods, you can’t even breathe right, can you? You shake your head vehemently, tangling your messy hair even further in the process as you start mindlessly muttering apologies between short, quick breaths.

“I’m-I’m sorry…  I’m sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry…”

Sun’s hands flex open and closed, held firmly down at his sides to prevent their urges from taking over and just allowing himself to scoop you up into his arms the way he wants to.

“Hey… e-easy, love. There’s no need for apologies here, you haven’t done anything wrong.”

Your tears pick back up again at that, voice accidentally coming out in a sudden shout, only muffled by the balled-up sleeve you’ve brought up to try and hide your face.

“YES I HAVE! I-I-I don’t know what… but I must have done something… something to end up like this.”

It’s getting harder for Sun to close out of the numerous warning pop-ups that flood his vision. His voice is a bit more strained when you hear it again.

“No-no-no not at all! You haven’t done anything to make this happen. This is just… something that happens sometimes, yeah? And-and-and I’m here now to help you through it!”

He eyes your left hand again, lying lifeless on the cold tile beside you. It’s completely red and swollen, with long, angry red lines running down along your forearm and the back of your hand. He knew he’d heard the sound of repeated, dull banging when he first discovered you’d locked yourself in here, but he hadn’t wanted to think about what you might be doing to yourself.

He’s gonna find out now, though.

Losing yourself in your panic again, you shakily pick your stiff hand up off the tile, balling it into a fist as you bring it up just to slam it back down on the cold, hard floor with as much force as you can possibly muster. Sharp pain runs through your wrist as the already swollen joint is forced to take the impact of yet another hit. A hiss of pain is immediately ripped out of you, and you revel in the small relief that it brings, forcing you to take a deep breath to distract yourself. You’d been at this for a solid thirty minutes now, based on Sun’s calculations of when this whole ordeal started.

Sun’s body locks up at the sight, and he can’t even feel the black, watery fluid that begins to leak from beneath his eyes, running down along the curves of his faceplate like tears.

He’s paralyzed. Stuck in between two equally important rules.

They sound off on repeat like warning sirens in his mind.

[ Protect you. ]

[ Never touch you without permission. ]

[ Protect you. ]

[ Never touch you without permission. ]

[ Protect you. ]

[ Never touch you without permission. ]

He’s forced to sit there, glued to the ground and watch as you lift your fist and slam it back down once again, your body reeling forward in response to the pain.

He suddenly feels Moon’s presence fighting to take control in their shared headspace.

He watches on helplessly as an unauthorized edit is made to one of the rules cemented in the forefront of his mind.

[ Protect you. A̵T̸ ̶A̶L̶L̶ ̵C̵O̴S̴T̷S̴.̸ ]

He immediately breaks from his paralysis just in time to reach forward, his movements lightning fast, and wraps his massive hand around your fist as it makes its way towards the ground once again. He moves your connected hands downward together, trying to follow the motion so as to not hurt you any further by suddenly stopping you mid-swing.

Your hands both slam down onto the tile, but you hardly feel the pain this time. Sun registers that the back of his hand took the brunt of the impact, no real damage done given his sturdier components, and his body nearly collapses from the sudden relief.

His other hand quickly reaches out and loosely wraps itself around your wrist, needing to hold you still. He’s careful to not aggravate the swollen joint, nor the stinging lines of broken skin you’d torn across the back of your hand.

You stop crying in your shock, and your head jerks up to look at him, and the both of you stare at each other, unsure, for a long quiet moment.

He breaks the silence first.

“I’m sorry. I-I-I know we can’t touch you without permission but-but-but you weren’t LISTENING and I-I-I had to. You were hurting-hurting-HURTING yourself.”

His repetitions are getting noticeably worse, and so is his volume control. He’s stressed beyond his limits, clearly.

Your remaining panic evaporates at the realization and guilt suddenly takes over, washing over you in waves that threaten to drown.

Your right hand is trembling as you pull it away from your face, poking out of your sleeve and reaching out towards him, no longer caring about the absolute hell you must look like right now.

You grab onto one of his upper arms and pull yourself towards him with what little strength you have left in you. He sat up straight as a board in response to your sudden shift in position, clearly not expecting you to fall right into him. He quickly recovers though, gingerly adjusting you to be more comfortable in his hold.

Your voice is miserable and thick with tears when you speak, face making a mess of the soft, colorful ruffles around his neck. He doesn’t mind it at all, at this point. They can be washed.

“Don’t, please… don’t apologize. Just…”

You let out a shaky sigh.

“just hold me… please.”

That’s permission enough for him, and he quickly gathers you further up onto his lap, adjusting so he’s leaned back against a cabinet and you can lay against him.

“Okay… okay. We can do that.”

He slowly brings your injured hand up to inspect it better in the light, and mutters another string of quiet apologies when you whimper in pain. From a quick scan he can tell that nothing is broken- thank heavens - but it will definitely bruise something awful. He also quietly takes note of the way your sharp nails must’ve broken skin, as there’s tiny dried specks of blood along your forearm when he cautiously lifts your sleeve.

The injury warning pop-ups are still flashing in his vision, but they’re easier to see through now. You’re stable. You’re safe. There will be time to patch you up once they get you calm.

Speaking of they, Moon is now throwing an absolute fit inside their headspace, more impatient than ever to be released so he can do his job. You need to be calmed, you need to be soothed, you need to rest.

[ LET ME OUT LET ME OUT LET ME OUT ]

Sun shoots him a silent response as he brings a hand up to cradle the back of your head against his chest, heart breaking all over again at the way you still tremble against him.

[ You know I would if I could. We have to wait for the lights to go out. Have patience. It’s nearly your turn. ]

He outwardly flinches at the sudden sharp volume of Moon’s voice in his mind.

[ PATIENCE? I just had to sit back here and witness them actively HARMING themselves like a helpless SPECTATOR and you’re telling me to have PATIENCE, SUN? REALLY? ]

Sun settles you back down against him when you stir in response to his sudden movement, assuring you once again that you haven’t done anything wrong.

[ Moon. Please. Look at them. Now is not the time to be fighting. ]

Moon doesn’t reply, so he adds on.

[ I… sincerely thank you… for editing the rule for me, you know? ]

He hears Moon sigh in exasperation, and feels the tension in their headspace begin to slowly dissolve.

[ …yeah. You’re welcome. Don’t make me have to do it again. ]

As if on queue, the lights power down in the plex all at once, and their transition begins. They feel the way you suddenly tense at the realization, and they hush you as their voice shifts from Sun’s into Moon’s.

“Shhh, shh, shh. You’re okay. Everything’s alright, little star. No need to be scared. I’m right here. You’re still safe.”

You keep your head buried in the fabric when you speak.

“Moon?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Are you… mad at me?”

He struggles to keep it together when he hears how scared you sound.

“Not at all, doll. Never. Never mad at you.”

He brings your left hand back up a bit to get a better look at it through his own eyes, and his body releases a soft burst of warm air from his vents.

“Mad at ourselves? Mmmaybe. But that’s none of your concern. It’s over now. We’re gonna fix this. We promise.”

He shifts a little, and whispers a soft question.

“May I move you up to our room so we can clean you up?”

You nod against him, humming in unenthusiastic acceptance.

His movements are incredibly careful and fluid when he picks the two of you up off the floor. Walking out of the storage closet, he calls down his tether and adjusts his grip on you to assure that you won’t slip.

You cling tight to him with your good hand, and close your eyes to avoid the unpleasant sight of being so far up in the air. Before you know it, you’re being lowered onto their bed so carefully one would think you’re made of glass.

When you finally detach yourself from his chest so he can put you down, you finally notice the dark tear-tracks leaking from his eyes. They shimmer, reflecting the dim string-lights hung throughout the room. You reach out to him, trying to wipe them away and failing miserably, smearing the dark stains further across their faceplate.

He gently takes your hand and brings it to his smile, pressing the equivalent of a kiss against your skin before placing your hand back down in your lap.

“Don’t you worry about us right now, star. You do that enough already. It’s your turn to be taken care of now.”

He shifts from his crouched position by the bed and moves to stand, intending to go fetch the first aid kit. You stop him by clinging to his hand with a nervous whine when he pulls away. You don’t even recognize how small and vulnerable you sound when your thoughts slip out of you.

“Where… where are you going?”

He crouches back down to your level, brushing your messy hair back away from your face.

“Just need to run down and get some things to patch you up with, doll. I’ll be back within a minute. Do you think you can wait for me here while I go do that?”

He’s slipped into caregiver mode, speaking to you like he’d speak to a frightened child in the daycare, but honestly… right about now, you don’t feel much different. His kind, patient tone works wonders to quiet your lingering fears.

“Okay… yeah, I can wait.”

He moves to press another kiss to the crown of your head when he stands back up, whispering to you.

“Very good. I’ll only be a moment. Wait here for me, starlight.”

You don’t count the seconds it takes him, but from what you can tell he stayed true to his word, for it couldn’t have been more than a minute before he was swinging himself back onto the balcony, arms full of various items.

He quietly sets them down one by one on a table in the room, and turns to you, crouching down again to be on your level.

“Now, patching up injuries is usually Sun’s thing, but I’m fully capable of it as well, if you’ll let me.”

You nod in silence, looking down, letting the shame, guilt, and embarrassment wash over you again. He picks up on it, and is quick to reassure you, crouching even further down and tilting his head at an angle so as to catch your gaze again.

“Hey, hey, hey… you don’t need to be ashamed of this. We’re not angry with you, and you don’t have to explain anything tonight if you don’t feel up to it . ”

Some of the tension bleeds out of your shoulders at that, and you take a resolving breath before granting him permission to tend to you, holding your left arm out towards him.

“…Thank you.”

He takes it in his, and reaches to grab a cleansing wipe from his pile of assorted things.

“It’s our honor to care for you, love.”

He hesitates, looking you over for a moment before setting the wipe back down and turning to you.

“It’ll be easier to do this if we take your jacket off first. Would you like assistance?”

You raise your arms out away from you, nodding sheepishly.

If he could smile any bigger than he always is, he would have.

“Alright, then. Mind your hand…”

He gently removes your jacket and folds it over the back of a chair. Then, returning his attention to your arm, he tears the pouch open and pulls the cloth out.

“This will sting at first, but it’s necessary, okay?”

You nod, only wincing slightly as he cleans your scratches and then pulls out a tube of some sort, twisting the tiny cap off with nimble fingers.

“This will help you heal.”

You watch quietly as he takes the utmost care to evenly coat each red, stinging line with the ointment, and in the back of your mind you wonder if this is a bit overkill for a few scratches… but you’re hesitant to turn him down. It couldn’t hurt, and you were rather enjoying the treatment. Far, far more than you’d like to admit, honestly. The torn lines of skin run all the way down your forearm to meet your knuckles, and he doesn’t miss a single spot.

He then turns away, pulling out a thin roll of gauze, and gestures for you to hold your arm out once again. When you offer it, he begins wrapping your arm up, starting from your hand. He’s extremely careful to not put undue pressure on your swollen palm and wrist, and once it’s secured around your hand, he winds the dressing all the way up around your arm, covering every little wound.

You’re nearly in a trance by the time he fastens the bandage in place and pulls back, pilfering through the other things he brought. You snap out of it when his voice breaks the silence again.

“Would you like my assistance while changing into something more suited for sleep?”

You nod before you even really register the inquiry, still too caught up in how good it felt to be bandaged up the way he did. It’s not like he hasn’t seen you undress before, anyways, so you don’t dwell on it too much when he guides you to stand and helps you remove your wrinkled work clothes.

Digging around in their dresser, he pulls out a plush pair of your sleep pants that you leave here for unplanned nights like this, and an oversized Superstar Daycare logo t-shirt.

He squats down, letting you use his shoulders to support your unsteady frame as you step into the pants, pulling them up around your waist before guiding you to sit back down on the bed. Reaching for the shirt and motioning for you to lift your arms, he makes sure the sleeve doesn’t catch on your bandages as he drapes it down over you.

You’re tempted to collapse back into the mattress then and there, but he’s not done coddling you yet.

He begins climbing all around you and gathering up every pillow in the room, propping you up and placing them around you to form some sort of… protective nest, you suppose? Whatever he’s doing, it seems like very important work in his eyes, so you let him fuss over the arrangement ‘til his heart's content, watching him with a small smile and tired eyes.

Once he seems satisfied with his work, he gently picks your left hand up and places it on its own special elevated pillow. He takes a ridiculous amount of care to make sure all of your bruising fingers are spread out in the best possible position, and then looks to you in question.

“Is this okay? Comfortable like this?”

You nod with a bemused smile, and he tilts his head for a moment, gauging your expression. Whatever he makes of it, he seems content now, and so he returns to his duties.

Reaching back to the table, he pulls over an ice pack, carefully wrapping it with soft fabric before situating it over your hand and wrist. He spends a few quiet moments just holding it there, practically staring straight through the ice pack and down into your injured hand. There’s something almost… far away about his voice when he speaks this time, but it’s gone again before your tired mind can question it.

“This should help bring the swelling down…”

You give him a tired smile, and a quiet thank you in acknowledgment.

That seems to snap him out of whatever momentary daze he had slipped into.

He moves back, stopping to take stock of the things he brought with him for a moment before grabbing a wet-looking washcloth and settling himself down on the bed in front of you.

“You’ll sleep better if your face isn’t all hot and tear-stained.”

You’re not gonna decline him, but you do feel compelled to say something.

“You really don’t have to go to such lengths like this, Moon… I don’t really feel like I deserve all this pampering after the burden I’ve been here lately...”

His body language visibly falls, seeming almost hurt by your words.

“Let’s get one thing straight, doll. 

You are no burden. 

Second of all, if you think that this is pampering…”

He lets out a small, sad laugh, looking down and obviously thinking something over internally.

“…then you’ve need to raise your standards, love. This is just basic care.”

He turns back to meet your gaze again.

“Besides. We’d be some pretty awful caretakers if we couldn’t even do this, wouldn’t we?”

His faceplate spins until it’s done a 180, reversing its path and righting itself once again as he speaks. That gets a small smile out of you, and you drop the subject, closing your eyes and leaning in to let him wipe the mess of your breakdown from your flushed skin.

Once you’re cleaned, he steps away for a moment, placing the damp cloth back atop the first aid kit on the table. He’ll put everything away in the morning, but for now, he’s quite hesitant to leave your side again. The small mess of assorted items and today’s dirty clothes will have to wait until tomorrow.

Leaning down to pull their belled slippers off, he places them neatly away to the side. You eye his long fingers as he lifts the back of their neck ruffles, deftly undoing the small bow holding them on, and watch as it unravels. He tosses the fabric onto the same chair he hung your jacket from, and your eyes follow his hands as they move down to his waist, fingers working to undo the tie that holds their pants up.

You avert your gaze as the star patterned fabric drops to the floor, pooling around his ankles. It’s not like there’s anything about each other you haven’t already seen before, but it still feels a bit inappropriate to just sit here doing nothing and watching him undress.

As you lean your head back to stare up at the sea of glow-in-the-dark stars that decorate the ceiling, he steps into the longest, softest pair of black palazzo pants known to mankind, a rare find of yours from a lucky trip to a thrift store.

You hated it when you first found out that they either had to sleep in their work clothes or nothing at all, so you had begun to buy up any casual clothes you could find whenever you happened across something that might fit their unusual frame.

He wraps the ties around his thin waist twice, tying them into a neat bow in the front. He then grabs a baggy, cream colored open-front cardigan and slips one arm after the other into it. Loosely wrapping the sides across his front, he turns and makes his way back over to the bedside. He didn’t particularly care one way or the other about wearing any sort of shirt to bed, but you often fell asleep on him and weren’t a big fan of waking up with your cheek adhered to the silicone of his chest plate.

When you notice his approach in your peripheral vision, you pull your lidded gaze away from the stars above you to look at the Moon beside you.

He settles himself down right next to you, careful to not disturb the nest he’s created, and then reaches out to the bedside table one more time, returning with a bottle of water and a packet of your favorite crackers, which he presumably snatched from the daycare’s pantry.

Why on earth it is that this is the gesture that finally does you in will forever remain a mystery to you, but at the sight of him presenting you the food and water, your eyes well up again with tears you didn’t think you had left.

He visibly falters for a moment, unsure if he’s done something wrong. He drops the crackers down onto the bed, freeing a hand to reach out and cup your cheek, guiding you to look at him. His voice is heavy with a quiet concern.

“Hey, hey, no more tears… Why are you crying again, starlight? Is something still hurting you?”

You smile in spite of your shining eyes, and lean into his touch.

“They’re good tears this time, Moon. I just… Thank you. For everything, for all of this, thank you. Both of you.”

He seems to relax a bit at that, and his thumb runs over your cheek to brush away a stray tear. His eyes get that distant look in them for a moment and you realize he’s listening to Sun.

“Thanking us is not necessary, but you’re very welcome all the same.”

He opens the water bottle for you, assuring that you’ve got a good grip on it before he lets you take it. As soon as it hits your throat you realize just how thirsty you were, greedily downing about half the bottle before Moon’s hand appears in your line of sight, gently ushering it away from your pursed lips. 

“Please pace yourself, starlight.”

You swallow your current mouthful of water as you watch him open the package of crackers, expecting him to hand it to you before you remember that you’ve got a bottle in one hand and an ice pack on the other. He picks one piece out of the package and as he brings it up towards you, you connect the dots quickly enough.

“Open.”

Oh, brother, he’s really giving you the full treatment tonight.

You feel heat return to your cheeks once again, albeit for a different reason this time around. Your voice comes out in a mixture of embarrassment and want.

“You don’t have to feed me…”

His faceplate angles down to the side, cocking his head at you. If he could smirk you’re sure he would be right now.

“But we want to.”

He gently nudges the cracker at your closed lips and you side-eye him as you part them just enough to snatch the food in between your teeth. You pull away with a small smile as you chew, and for some reason you struggle to look him in the eyes.

If circumstances were brighter, he’d likely be teasing you for being so shy, but tonight… Tonight, he sets the jokes aside. He patiently feeds you one cracker after another, reminding you to take a small sip of water every few bites. At some point, when your mind slows down enough for you to notice the silence permeating the room, soft music begins to play from the speaker hidden in his chest.

It’s the tune that he reserves especially for nights like these with you, one that he never plays during nap time. In spite of how little Sun and Moon have to call their own, they still manage to find small parts of themselves to share only with you.

Once you’ve finished your snack, you let him place the remainder of your water back on the side table. When he turns back to you, ready to get you laid down to sleep, you’re fixing him with a thoughtful stare. His faceplate tilts 45 degrees, his tone curious.

“What are you looking at?”

Your tired gaze roams across his faceplate, following along the smeared oily tear tracks he seems to have forgotten about. You then look past him, over his shoulder, and your eyes land on the still-damp cloth on the table.

“Would you hand me that cloth for a second, please?”

He’s silent for a moment, processing your question, but eventually reaches behind himself to retrieve it for you. When he places it in your open right hand, you use it to gesture out in front of you.

“Can you move to sit in front of me for a minute?”

He tilts his head the opposite direction in confusion once again, but does as you requested. You motion for him to lean down a bit until his face is level with yours.

Once you can reach him, you pinch one corner of the cloth between two fingers and set to work wiping away the dark tear tracks. You follow the path they’ve made down from beneath their eyes, around the inner curve of their cheeks and down to their mouth. The trails of inky fluid had weaved their way through the crevices of their smile and eventually converged, pooling in the bottom curve of the crescent moon.

You feel his eyes, now tiny pinpricks of red in a black void, following your every movement. Not really in a dangerous sort of way… he just seems more taken aback than anything. When you’ve wiped every last trace away, you meet his gaze briefly as you give him one final look over, and you give him a small smile.

You go to hand the cloth back to him and he doesn’t move to take it, still sitting there with his hands clasped in his lap and staring straight at you. Oh god. Knowing your luck, your attempt at returning the favor has broken him. Cautiously reaching out, you take one of his hands in yours and maneuver it until it’s face-up. You ball the cloth up and place it back in his palm as your hand comes to rest over top of it, eyes darting across his frame in search of any movement, any sort of response.

“Are you still with me, Moon?”

At your words, his faceplate suddenly clicks back and forth a few times before making one full rotation, the bell on the end of his hat grazing the pillows below you along the way. Life seems to finally return to him, and his fingers close around the cloth in his hand as he leans back. Silently, he moves from his spot seated in front of you to return the cloth to the table before settling himself back down in his prior spot beside you. You turn to look at him, uncertain, and his gaze is settled on the bed sheets when he speaks.

“I never left you.”

Your tired mind struggles to understand what exactly that means, looking up at him with furrowed brows.

“Huh?”

He tilts his faceplate to look down at you, still being a head taller than you even when you’re sitting next to him.

“You asked me if I was still with you.”

His hand reaches out and he carefully laces his long fingers between yours.

“I never left.”

A warm feeling spreads through your chest at the sincerity in his voice and in that moment, you can’t do anything other than lean into him, gently resting your forehead against his shoulder. After a little while of just breathing in the moment, you speak again.

“I just… wanted to return the favor. You two take such good care of me, wiping your tears is the least I can do…”

One of his hands comes up to cradle the back of your head against him.

“It’s entirely unnecessary but we both appreciate it nonetheless. We really do. We’re just… not used to it. Being treated so gently is… unfamiliar to us.”

You pull your left hand out from beneath the ice pack in order to wrap your arms around him in a proper hug, talking into the fabric of his cardigan.

“Oh, come on, guys… you’re starting to sound like me now.”

Moon resists the urge to reprimand you for moving your hand, instead allowing their body to lean into the embrace, wrapping long arms around your soft, vulnerable body. His voice sounds far more exhausted than any animatronic's voice ought to when he speaks.

“…it’s well past your bedtime, little star.”

You put the last of your energy into squeezing him as tightly as you can before you finally let go, allowing him to re-situate you however he deems fit.

You know that there’s a heavy conversation to be had tomorrow, and you’re gonna have to find a way to hide or explain away the remnants of your obvious injury to little questioning minds on Monday. You’ll have to think of all the right things to say to anyone who may ask questions, and you’ll come up with something, you’re sure. One thing you can find comfort in though, is that you don’t have to worry about any of that with Sun and Moon.

They deserve a more detailed explanation of course and they’ll get it when you’re ready, but at least for tonight… the three of you can rest knowing that you’re safe and understood in each other's arms. None of you are strangers to this, and you both know that things will be okay again. One step back doesn’t erase any of the progress you made beforehand.

So for now, you breathe in deep and focus on the feeling of gentle, strong arms wrapped around you, keeping you safe from anything that may seek to harm you.

Even if that’s yourself.

A/Ns: Crisis Text Line provides free, 24/7 support via text message. They're there for everything: anxiety, depression, suicide, school. Text HOME to 741741. Or, you can click the link here to visit their website for more information and resources. As usual, if you want to see all of my commentary and additional context in regards to writing this fic, you can find that in the notes right here on AO3!

Image Sources: x - x - x

#moondrop #sundrop #moon x reader #sun x reader #fnaf #sun x reader x moon #moondrop x reader #sundrop x reader #the daycare attendant #dca x reader #daycare attendant x reader #five nights at freddy's #fnaf fanfic #fnaf security breach #cw sh #sh cw #sh mention #Seven.txt - In The Daylight #for once i don't have a whole bunch of commentary to put in the tags i'm just tired and hungry and i wanna post something today #so here u go! people seemed to really appreciate this fic over on twt and AO3 so maybe it can reach some people that need it on here too <3

[cloudcountry]

proper compensation

Genre/Tropes: No notable ones!!

Summary: Leona and Jamil went chasing Grim around Styx and got him back to you safely. It's only fair you offer them proper compensation.

Author's Comments: this was inspired by a dialogue part between leona and jamil during the phantom node searching in chapter 67 sector eight. i was so inspired that i wrote a four page oneshot for it for some reason. this might have made me a jamil stan. i dont know how all this ends because i havent finished it yet so this might be canon divergent (it probably is) so dont kill me please OKAY THANK YOU

~~~~~

There’s a knock on Ramshackle’s front door in the late hours of the afternoon. After everything that happened at Styx, you refused to let Grim out of your sight, and that includes leaving him to answer the door. He’s been unusually tired, content to accept your affection and sleep in your arms, happy and safe with the person he trusts. You hold him gently as you stand up, walking towards the door. You manage to stoop over just enough to get it open, and you’re met with the sight of two familiar people.

“Can I help you?” you ask, raising a confused brow. You don’t normally see Jamil and Leona together like this, much less together here.

“We got you back your furball.” Leona grunts, waving dismissively at the cat monster curled up in your arms, “It’s perfectly reasonable to compensate us for the return.”

“Indeed.” Jamil smiles, but there’s something so ingenuine about it that you can’t help but shiver.

“I…don’t have any money.” you fumble, trying to think up something to give them, “I can…do chores? Or something?”

You doubt they would accept your dusty furniture, and if there’s one thing you’ve learned from people at NRC, it's that everything comes with a price, and you best pay it in full if you don’t want to get screwed over.

“Nah. I got Ruggie. I don’t need another errand runner.” Leona shakes his head, looking more and more like a predator as the seconds pass.

“I can handle my chores myself. Make no mistake, I’m used to taking care of Kalim.” Jamil steps closer, reaching out to touch your hand, “Come on now, Prefect. You’re smart. You’ll figure it out.”

You’re pretty sure you have figured it out, even if it seems like you haven’t. Because if they don’t want to exploit you like Azul did, they probably want what Ace usually begs for when he does something right (although he detests the word beg.)

“I…think I have an idea.” you confess, gnawing at your lower lip, “Just…let me put down Grim. He fell asleep in my arms and-”

“Oh, please. Allow me.” Jamil swoops his arms under Grim and plucks him out of your arms as easily as yanking a flower out of the grass. You yelp and gape at the boy as he waltzes into Ramshackle without a care in the world.

Like he owns the place.

Sneaky.

“What’s your idea then, herbivore?” Leona snickers, leaning against the doorframe like he also owns the place, “I would love to hear it.”

“Um…would you guys accept kisses as compensation?” you say, wrinkling your nose at just how stupid it sounds when you say it out loud.

Leona lets out a barking laugh, throwing his head back and all. You feel even more embarrassed now, taking his amusement as rejection.

“Oh, you’re smarter than you look.” he huffs, voice thick with amusement, “You nailed it, herbivore. Now are you going to pay up or not?”

You can feel your face growing warm as he leans in, eyes staring straight into your soul as if this doesn’t affect him one bit. Was he so used to teasing and moments like this that they didn’t even phase him anymore? Or were you just a flustered fool, dancing in the palm of his hand?

You ultimately decide that if it means receiving affection from him, you don’t care.

And so you allow him to brush his nose over your cheek, and you allow his breath to fan over your lips as you shut your eyes in anticipation. He laughs at that, too, his hot breath only making you more and more anxious.

“Are you going to kiss me or not?” you grumble, furrowing your brow with your eyes still clamped shut.

“Aww, do you want a kiss?” Leona teases, and you’re about to yell at him when he follows up with a quiet, “Well, fine then.”

And then he’s kissing you.

Your back is pressed against the doorframe as he cradles you against him. His hands are placed securely at your waist as he tilts his head, pushing against you as he searches for more, more. Your head is spinning with it all, and you’re certain if Leona wasn’t holding you up you’d be crumpled over on your doorstep right now. There’s a clear smugness in his movements, especially when he hooks a hand under your thigh and pulls it up. Your face could not be any warmer than it is right now, especially when he squeezes the flesh gently and his claws rake against your skin.

He breaks away and you gasp, the sound soft and bewildered. You brush your fingers along your lower lip, and even though it feels like it's burning it doesn’t burn.

Leona gazes at you, his expression so smug you have half a mind to wipe it off his stupidly handsome face, but then he turns on his heel and starts walking away,

“Well, that’s enough for me.” he yawns as if he didn’t just kiss you breathless (like a satisfied predator), “See ya around, herbivore. Thanks for the compensation.”

You manage to call out a shaky goodbye to him in your shock, mind still reeling and unorganized from the kiss. Why can’t anyone on this campus be predictable?! Never in a million years did you think Leona and-

Wait, Jamil. He didn’t leave.

You were so distracted by Leona that you forgot about Jamil and the fact that he basically shouldered his way into your dorm.

He’s still around here somewhere (unless he’s jumped out of a window, which is too much of a Kalim thing to do so you dispel the thought with a giggle.)

Great Seven, you’re not even close to being recovered from what just happened, but there’s no use delaying the inevitable. You make your way to you and Grim’s bedroom, hoping Jamil didn’t just dump him somewhere. Surely he’s responsible enough to not do that, right?

You discover that he does know where Grim’s bed is. Grim is still fast asleep, tucked away in his bed. You laugh again to yourself as you realize that Jamil probably still has the layout of Ramshackle memorized from when he stayed over during SDC.

“Yes, he’s fine. I made sure he didn’t wake up.” Jamil says from behind you, and you jump at the unexpected noise. Spinning around to glare at him (though the expression holds no malice), you jolt backward when you see just how close he is. He rolls his eyes at your mock annoyance and jerks his head to the left. He’s holding a tray of tea and snacks in his hands, and while the gesture would be nice from almost anyone else, you figure he’s going to use this against you later.

You enter your bedroom anyway. Jamil follows you silently and sets the tray of treats on your nightstand.

“Do you want the same thing as Leona?” you ask, sitting at the edge of the bed.

Jamil makes a quiet huffing sound under his breath but doesn’t answer your question. You let him pour the tea and hand you a teacup, and watch him as he pours a cup of tea for himself. You don’t want to push too hard, but he was the one that came to you in the first place.

“Jamil.” you say softly, reaching out and cupping his cheek, “You said you wanted compensation but all you’ve done is help me out. I need to pay you back, right?”

His eyes flicker toward you, and he sighs.

“I don’t want what Leona wants, Prefect. I was just teasing you earlier.” he mumbles, shutting his eyes as if he’s exhausted (which he probably is), “I would like to rest here with you. That’s all.”

Your mouth forms an o shape as you realize that no, the tea and snacks were not to trap you in yet another favor, but were meant to be part of your favor to him. There’s a stab of guilt in your stomach, and you swallow it uncomfortably.

“I thought the tea and snacks were for another favor you wanted paid back.” you confess, fisting your hands in your lap, “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, don’t be.” his tired expression turns wicked in a split second, his eyes gleaming with mischief, “I plan to take up more of your time than Leona did. This is me paying you back.”

“That’s too many transactions.” you murmur, placing a gentle hand on his upper arm, “Just come here. “

Jamil follows your lead and clambers into bed, the springs squeaking under the extra weight. You’ve done well to keep your voice low for Grim, so much so that Jamil’s heavy sigh is the loudest sound that's been made in the room by either of you this afternoon. He slumps over against your shoulder, the top of his head bumping against your chin as his shoulders sag. You feel your heart twinge in your chest as you wrap a steady arm around him and rest your head on him, too.

You certainly wouldn’t mind if either of them wanted to do this again.

#auburn's fics <3 #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #disney twst x reader #twst x reader #leona x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar fluff #jamil x reader #jamil viper x reader #jamil viper fluff

[fuwushiguro]

Let’s Go Little Kitty Cat

Tomura Shigaraki x Touya Todoroki x Twice x f!reader

Genre: Smut Notes: this was meant to be exclusive to patreon but they made me delete it lmao enjoy!! Warnings: 18+, dubcon, hybrid!au, kitty girl!reader, heat, gang bang, step-cest, name-calling, dacryphillia, blowjobs, clit rubbing, pet names, vaginal sex, tit-sucking, spitting, double penetration (one hole), throat-fucking, hair pulling, noncon filming, creampie & oral creampie ♡ Words: 2.8k

The tension between your thighs is unbearable. It’s close to agonising. A burning desire that can only be alleviated by someone willing. Your stepbrother is tired of you. You know he is; and yet you can’t seem to be able to help yourself. He has friends over. You can hear them all talking. Playing videos games and screaming at the TV.

“Tomu…” you flutter your eyelashes. Though he doesn’t hear you. He doesn’t even see you since you’re shyly hiding behind the door to his bedroom.

All you can hear is laughter and teasing. Touya making fun of Jin’s lack of gaming skills and Tomura laughing at his expense. If only you weren’t so bashful.

The lustrous want is growing stronger.

And soon, you don’t feel so shy.

You don’t even knock. Instead, you barge in and stand directly beside the TV which you can now see is displaying Super Smash Bros. They all look at you, momentarily, before focusing back on the TV. Standing next to it was a good call. You’re sure if you’d stood in front of it that your brother might have cause to kill you.

“What?” he asks, rudely, mashing buttons on his controller. You do nothing but twiddle your thumbs and a slew of ‘ums’ mumble out from between your lips. “What is it, brat?” he sighs. And you gulp, swallowing thickly and screwing your eyes closed. You turn your back to him; falling to your knees. You place your hands on the ground and raise your behind up at him. Your slinky black tail standing upright and revealing your pretty lace panties underneath your skirt.

“Tomur—”

“For fuck sake.” he mutters, kicking you lightly with his sneaker clad foot so that your body falls onto the floor. You sniffle, wiping your nose and fighting to hold back tears from the embarrassment of it all. It doesn’t work. “I’m busy.” he tells you, bluntly, focusing his attention back to the TV.

“S’wrong with her?” Touya wonders. He watches as you get back on all fours, clearly not humiliated enough as you try to entice your brother to take care of you as he always does.

“Slut’s in heat.” he responds. He exhales, defeated, pausing the TV to show his friends what a pathetic whore you are. He grips your tail with his fist, keeping it in place. His free hand is used to prod your panties and tease your folds.

All three men revel in how soaked you are. Your panties positively drenched.

“Tomura… please.” you sob.

“No.” he speaks. “I already fucked you this morning and in the middle of the night. I’m bored of you. Go away.”

“But—”

“I’ll fuck you, sweetheart.” Jin tells you, sticking his tongue through his teeth as his brows furrow and focus on his game. You can’t tell whether he’s joking or not. From Tomura’s lack of response, you think he’s just teasing.

You opt to ignore him. Turning to Tomura with watery eyes, though he pays you no mind. It’s getting worse. And you are growing even more desperate. You shuffle closer to him on your knees, resting your hands on his thighs. He looks down at you, his vision alternating quickly between his game and you.

“Behave.” he warns you.

But you don’t.

You carry on smoothing your hands up his thighs.

And suddenly, he’s winning the game. Touya and Jin can’t tear their gaze away from you. From what you’re doing to your brother. You unbutton his jeans and slide down the zip. He doesn’t stop you, either, which makes you think he wants you just as much as you want him.

He helps you pull down his jeans and underwear slightly, just enough for his cock to be released. He’s only semi hard, but you know a few kitten licks to his slit and a couple of pumps of your wrist will have him standing to attention.

You lap at his cockhead. His tip leaking and you consuming every little pearl of cum on your sensitive tastebuds. He is still focused on the game, starting a new round as his friends are enamoured by the sight of you licking his cock. They manage to concentrate on the TV for all of five seconds when you begin to take your brother down your throat.

“Unmf.” Tomura winces a little, your soft humming and accommodating throat getting the better of him. “You’re such a brat.” he comments. You giggle, but you don’t abandon your task. He doesn’t want you to stop; but in the same breath he doesn’t want to seem weak in front of his friends. He pushes your head off of his length and pulls you onto the bed beside him.

“Ouch…” you complain, massaging your wrist where he pulled you. “Why did you—”

Before you can finish, he’s holding your waist and pulling you onto his lap, moving your panties to the side and lining his cock up with your hole. You’re so flustered. Your hairline is damp, and your eyes might as well be dotted with hearts. Your tongue is lolling out of your mouth as he guides you down onto his length.

“T-Thank you.” you gasp as you try to ride him. But your attempt is thwarted, his hands grip your waist like a vice to keep you still.

“Sit still. Don’t move.” he commands. “Think you can just do what you want? Hm? Think you’re gonna come in here and flash your cunt and you’ll get what you want?”

“I—”

“The word you’re looking for is no.”

You whimper, slightly, but do your best to sit still. But it’s too fucking hard. He’s inside of you, now, he may as well just fuck you. He’s torturing you for no reason. Your heart rate is through the roof, and you start to grind against him.

His arm hooks around your body until his hand encases your neck.

“No.”

You sigh, allowing the tears resting in your lash line to spill down your cheeks. Jin reaches over to you, thick fingers scratching behind your ears and making them twitch excitedly. You look at him, and smile.

And Jin Bubaigawara is a weak man. He never has been able to resist a pretty face. He puts his Switch controller to one side and stands to his feet.

“Why are we playing a fucking game when we can be fucking your little sister?” Jin wonders. He almost sounds agitated that he even needs to ask. Touya sighs, laughing. Relieved that he got the necessary conversation in motion.

“C’mere, babe.” Touya demands, his finger performing a come hither motion while he pats his lap. And you want to. God you fucking want to. But you aren’t so sure. And you know Tomura won’t like it. He shuffles on the bed closer to Tomura, reaching over to the hot spot at the apex of your thighs and moving your panties further into the crease of your thigh. He prods your clit a few times with his finger before he swipes over it, softly. Your face contorts, and once again, you can’t help but begin to grind against Tomura. “Mmm, she likes it.” he grins.

“Get off.” Tomura cautions his friend, once again stopping you from moving. There’s no real malice or aggression to his order. Just another show of dominance.

“Shut up.” Touya responds. “How can you deny such a pretty girl the opportunity to cum? She just wants some cock, don’tcha, doll?” he continues. You nod, hurriedly, hoping the conversation will be enough to bring Tomura around.

“Fine. Take her.” Tomura nods, pushing you over to Touya.

Touya lets you straddle him. He holds the crown of your head so that he can keep you in place while he makes out with you. It’s slow, nasty and with so much tongue. He giggles at the way you moan for him. And he thinks it’s so adorable how you can’t help but rut your pussy against his rough jeans, making such a sticky mess of the denim material.

He holds an arm around your waist and flips you onto your back; still kissing you all the while. Touya is completely manhandling you. Spreading your legs open wide and flipping your skirt upwards. He takes your panties in two fists and rips them apart with a sharp tearing sound. And even that makes you moan.

“What a little whore you are,” he chuckles darkly, “I love this wet little cunt, don’t need to waste time stretching you out with my fingers first.”

You look at him with rose tinted glasses. Despite his crude words and abusive language; you can’t help but lust after him. He’s giving you what you want, after all. You observe him as he unbuckles his belt as fast as he can. His cock jumps out as soon as he pulls down his jeans and underwear just below his ass. He shoves himself into your warm walls all of the way to the hilt, almost cumming at the sound of you flinching from the impact.

“So gorgeous when you cry.” he laughs, starting to hump his length inside of your welcoming walls.

Tomura notices your distress. And as mean as he can be, he’s also incredibly sweet to you at times. And he’s very protective. He kneels close to your head, bending down to kiss you kindly. His tongue massaging against yours instantly puts you at ease.

Jin begins to feel left out. He shuffles towards you, too. He rips apart your crop top to reveal your bare breasts. Completely exposed to all three men in the room. He jiggles one in his hand for a moment. And then he lies down on his stomach. He latches his lips around your raised nipple. Suckling sweetly and carefully. Soft and gentle bites against it rush straight to your cunt. Your hips bucking while Touya continues to thrust inside of you.

Touya keeps your legs apart. They’re as wide as they can be. He presses one against the mattress and another up to your chest, using both to his advantage to fuck you harder.

Jin’s free hand slithers down your stomach until two thick fingers are toying with your clit. The sensation forces you to pull away from Tomura, not being able to focus enough on any one thing with your senses so overwhelmed.

“O-Oh fuck!” you yell. Tomura’s hand takes a firm grip of your jaw.

“Open up, slut.” he orders. You open your mouth wide. You flinch when he spits directly into your mouth. “You are a disgusting little whore with a filthy mouth.” he tells you. Your lip begins to wobble, upset by his words. But still, you find yourself desperate for his kiss.

“Naughty little whores don’t get kisses.” Touya grunts, only just managing to speak through his impending high.

“No, they don’t.” Tomura agrees. He guides his cock to your lips, smearing them in his pre cum. “I don’t want my cock sucked, baby. I want to fuck your throat.” he warns you. He presses his hand into the side of your face; keeping it trapped against the mattress.

“Mmpf!!” you gasp as he forces himself into your mouth. You can barely breathe, doing your best to remember to breathe through your nose as you feel him brutalising your throat. You begin to cry, unable to stop yourself or keep the tears from flowing.

“Why are you crying? You were the one begging for cock. Begging for cum. Look where it got you, you’ve tripled your profit.” Tomura cackles. He spits down harshly onto your cheek to further make his point.

“Ohhh, she’s so tight. So fucking tight. Are you gonna cum? Yeah… pretty girl’s gonna cum.” Touya muses, knowing if you clench any harder he won’t be far after you. “Gonna cum in this cunt, babe. Jus’ like you want.” he informs you.

You’re unravelling around him the harder he pounds, and you feel your body turn cold in contrast to the warm gooey substance flooding your insides. Jin releases your nipple as he observes the way your body spasms from your orgasm. Tomura pulls out before your vibrating throat full of wanton moans makes him cum.

Touya collapses on the bed beside you, the pair of you panting as you recover from your orgasms. Touya is allowed to rest.

You aren’t.

Jin drags you towards him, as he stands on his knees. He kisses you slowly, wanting to offer you some form of reprieve. He rolls your left nipple between his fingers as he tongues the inside of your mouth. It all feels so romantic despite what is actually happening. He leads his cock into you, holding your body close to his as you begin to ride him. He keeps a firm grip as he lets his body fall backwards. His shoulder blades against the mattress and allowing you to be on top of him. You moan, softly, into his mouth as you use him to fuck yourself.

“Take a deep breath.” he whispers. You pull away. Your confusion is evident even on your sleepy face. He kisses you and you kiss him back; not knowing it’s a distraction.

Tomura forces himself inside of your pussy and you can’t help but scream. Jin is huge. It was already a heavy feat in itself. But taking your brother’s thick cock in your cunt as well is a task too much.

“Ah! Tomura—!” you gasp.

“Shut up.” he spits, cruelly. “You wanted this. You’re getting what you asked for.”

“Hurts! Tomu… s-stop, s’really hurting m-me!” you explain.

“Touya, shut her up.”

You look over to Touya, he’s stroking his cock casually on the bed as he watches you get fucked by these two monstrous cocks. But at the request of his friend, he stands to his feet, walking around the bed until he’s standing directly in front of you. Lording above you.

It’s menacing.

“No teeth, doll, or I’ll really give you something to cry about.” he instructs you with an ominous warning.

You brace yourself, knowing what’s coming. He slots himself inside of your mouth and begins to hump inside of it. His refractory period is more than impressive. It’s fucking inhuman. He grasps a fistful of your hair, forcing you onto him so that he can fuck himself with your throat.

All the while, Jin and Tomura’s thrusts are matching. They’re tearing you in two and abusing your sweet spot all in one tantalising bout. You are all over the place. Too many sensations overcoming you at once. Jin returns to sweetly suckling on your nipples, expertly alternating between the two and still having enough focus to fuck you so perfectly.

“F-Fuck, take it you little bitch.” Tomura commands, his load spurting inside of your hole and accompanying Touya’s. Jin follows shortly after, his moans stimulating your tits even further as he refuses to release them from between his lips.

You tap frantically on Touya’s thighs, desperate for air. He grants your wish. For only a second. And then, he gives one last devastating thrust into your mouth, cumming inside. He continues to hold your mouth hostage with his length, forcing you to look him in the eye as he speaks.

“Do not swallow. Leave your fucking mouth open when I pull out.” he instructs.

All three men slowly retract their cocks from your body. Touya’s fingers are still interweaved in your hair. You can’t stop panting. You’re so sticky and overwhelmed. Your chin and lips are dripping with sperm, and you have an awful feeling that there’s more in store for you.

Alas, you’re wrong.

Touya pulls your hair back so that your head falls into Tomura’s pillows. You close your legs, trying your best to keep the obscene amount of cum inside. Tomura shakes his head, that isn’t allowed. Jin carefully opens them up for you, light pats against the inside of your knees are enough to do the trick.

“Look what a mess we made of her.” Jin grins, smoothing your hair out of your face.

“Your little sister is a dirty cum slut, isn’t that right baby?” Touya laughs, pulling out his phone as he films his combined handiwork with his friends. He takes a few pictures alongside it, too. “She’s leaking from every slutty hole.”

“Not every hole. Nobody went in her asshole, but there’s always next time.” Tomura speaks. “You hear that? Next time you stick your ass in my face I’m gonna fuck it.”

© 2023 fuwushiguro    

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #league of villains x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #jin bubaigawara x reader #hybrid au #tw dubcon #tw stepcest #tw name calling #tw dacryphilia #tw spit #tw hair pulling #tw noncon filming

[riconas]

can i perhaps request some swissdew.. maybe mean swiss if you’re feeling it?

i am always feeling it ricky

combining with this ask for the full experience:

tags: masochism, pain kink, degradation, rough sex, whole carnival of kinks over here

“Are you mad at me,” Dew asks flatly.

Swiss doesn’t respond. He isn’t in the mood for mediocre verbal sparring—it’ll only get him more riled up. He pushes Dew backwards onto the mattress and crawls between his skinny legs, grabbing the waistband of Dew's sweatpants to pull them down to his knees.

“You can’t be serious,” Dew splutters. “You’re gonna fuck about it?”

“Are you complaining?”

A thin trail of smoke trickles from Dew’s nostrils and up into the air. “Go to therapy,” Dew snaps, but shucks his pants off all the same. What a bad actor. He isn’t even hard yet, barely half-chubbed, but Swiss will fix that.

“Colour system,” he says, unbuckling his belt and stripping his jeans off. “Lie down.”

Dew goes compliantly, pulling his legs up to expose his hole. He isn’t dripping yet, probably because he isn’t horny enough that his body has responded. Doesn’t matter.

Swiss spits in his hand, smears it over his dick, jacks himself a few times. Keeps the other hand firmly on Dew’s stomach, pinning him like a bug. He’d normally take his time with prep, open Dew up nice and slow, maybe even get him to cum a couple times, get him to loosen up. But he’s pissed as hell right now, and he wants to see Dew cry. He lines himself up, buzzing with anticipation at how tight Dew’s going to be, and pushes hard against his hole until the head pops in.

“Ow, fuck,” Dew whines, squirming under the hand pinning him. “Fucker. There’s lube in the bedside table, fuck—”

Swiss barks out a laugh. “Now you want lube? The little painslut wants lube?” He thumbs at Dew’s lower lip, pulling it down, exposing the wet pink of his mouth. “Not enough water ghoul in you?”

Dew screws his eyes shut. That hit a nerve, Swiss knows.

“You’re such a dick,” Dew manages to say, voice strained and distracted by the pain, and sure, maybe Swiss could be kinder, but then again. Dew doesn’t deserve that.

Swiss presses in a little further, then a lot further, and Dew pants and pants until Swiss’s thighs hit his ass. He won’t look at Swiss, won’t even spare him the courtesy of opening his eyes. Not even when Swiss slaps him, not hard, but with enough force that it rings out loud and clear.

“Open your eyes,” Swiss says. He grabs Dew by the chin and unceremoniously jostles his head around, like he’s trying to shake the brat out of it. Dew only shuts his eyes tighter. “Don’t be such a baby. Does it hurt that bad?”

Dew nods. It’s the only response Swiss has gotten out of him, so it has to mean something. He sighs, overdramatic, making sure Dew knows exactly how disappointed he is, and grabs Dew by the throat.

“Take it. You’ll be fine in a minute.”

Dew whines again. He does sound like he’s in pain, which Swiss wouldn’t tolerate if it was anyone else, but he can’t be bothered to care now. There will be time to feel bad later. He grabs Dew’s little waist and pulls him onto his cock, balls slapping against the back of Dew’s thighs.

“Fu-uck,” Dew mewls, eyes screwing shut, and he looks so pathetic that Swiss has to do it again. He grabs Swiss’s wrists, squeezing with what looks like all his might but feels like almost nothing.

Swiss looks down at his little cock, still only half-hard, waggling around as he fucks Dew into the mattress, and can’t help but wonder—if he laughs, will Dew cry?

“I can’t cum like this,” Dew pants. “Not like this—Swiss, c’mon, you know I can’t cum like this—”

“That’s the point,” Swiss says matter-of-factly. “You think I’m doing this for you?”

“At least let me,” Dew cries. “If you’re gonna make it hurt so bad.”

Swiss stops. “Colour, Dew.”

“Green, fucker, why’d you stop—”

Dew’s fine, Swiss tells himself, as he pulls out all the way to watch Dew’s hole wink at him before slamming in once again. Dew’s fine enough to talk back, fine enough to put up a fight. Fine enough to dig his claw into Swiss’s shoulders, scratching and piercing in all his burning glory.

“Not like this,” he keeps saying. “C’mon, Swiss, not like this.” And then: “Please, Swiss, not like this,” and Swiss knows he’s won.

“Say it again,” he demands.

Dew does not hesitate. “Please! Don’t leave me like this, I wanna cum—with you, please, please, please—”

“Apologise first,” Swiss pants. “Then I’ll consider it.”

#rico writes #ficlet #swiss/dewdrop #swiss x dewdrop #swiss ghoul #dewdrop ghoul

[ithaquasbbg]

Hello there! I really liked your Ganji, Norton and Naib reacting to their s/o getting in a fight with another survivor hcs and was wondering if you could do something similar with Aesop and Eli?

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Hi! Yes I love Aesop and Eli (I think I have a pretty odd interpretation of Aesop though- so apologies in advance lol)

Aesop and Eli when their S/O gets into a fight

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Pairings : Aesop x Reader, Eli x Reader

Tw : Blood (bloody nose- injury)

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1) Aesop | Embalmer

|⚰️| Aesop is probably one of the least likely people to step in and fight for you, first of all. He’s never been the type to lay his hands on another person. That being said, he probably has other ways of getting back at them for hitting you (will mention later)

|⚰️| Assuming you’re still conscious after being punched, he’d walk to to Emily’s room in order to have you looked at- eyes staring at the forming bruise and blood dripping from your nose

|⚰️| If you’re unconscious, he’d probably look over you himself first. He’s a little creepy at times- and definitely loves how peaceful you look while asleep. (Also- it’s unlikely you feel any pain while knocked out- extra bonus!)

|⚰️| He can’t help but think that In some messed up way, you’re almost pretty/handsome like this.

|⚰️| If your clothing is covered with blood from your nosebleed- you’re unlikely to be receiving any of Aesops clothing off of his own back, he’s a huge germaphobe.

|⚰️| The embalmer will, however, go to your room and bring you a change of your own clothing (or maybe some of his if he’s feeling generous..). That way you won’t have to sit in that shirt of yours.

|⚰️| As I mentioned earlier- Aesop doesn’t like to get blood on his hands directly, but has other means of getting back at people who hurt anyone he cares about or himself.

|⚰️| In this case, he’d likely mess around with them for a while, not enough to hurt them- but enough to scare the person who hurt you into backing off.

|⚰️| This usually stays at just odd stare downs and glares, along with a few blunt words from Aesop. But if the fight was bad enough, best believe Aesop will do his best to screw them over in the next matches he has with them.

|⚰️| You’re one of the only living (perhaps?) people he loves, if anyone hurt you- he’d probably not take it very well.

2) Eli | Seer

|🤍| Eli’s inability to directly see what’s occurring would make it very unlikely that he’d step into the fight. Instead, he’d probably do his best to convince you two to stop. Or, if needs be, call for help from another manor resident.

|🤍| He can’t see how bad the damage is unless Brooke is with him.. and assuming he may not under this circumstance- he’d probably take you to Emily just to make sure you’re fine.

|🤍| He’s super gentle when touching your face after finding out you had been punched there, worried he could potentially cause more pain. (Not in a himbo way but in like a caring way idk)

|🤍| Quite awkward approaching the subject with you, but Eli does scold you quite a bit for getting into a fight in the first place

|🤍| “what were you thinking, (name)? You could have gotten much more hurt than you did!”

|🤍| Like Aesop- he wouldn’t do anything physical to your attacker (but for Eli, it’s simply because he isn’t in a good condition for fighting. If he could see, he’d probably deliver the other person a quick smack)

|🤍| Instead, the other person can safely bet they will not be receiving any owls or protection from Eli for a while.

|🤍| He does hold grudges to an extent when it comes to people harming his loved ones, and would probably be upset and anxious about you getting into a fight for weeks afterwards.

#idv fandom #idv fanfic #idv headcanons #idv imagines #idv x reader #idv scenarios #idv matchup #idv aesop #aesop idv #idv embalmer #embalmer idv #identity v embalmer #idv seer #seer idv #Eli idv #idv eli #eli clark

[steddielations]

I’m sorry what’s this about a jock steve / eddie strength kink fic I hear??

Update: It’s now here on Ao3!

oh yes you did hear correctly 👀 here take a lil snippet:

Eddie overindulges.

He likes to push everything. He wants to know just how far someone will go if he tinkers with their buttons enough. He needs to see how much he can get out of any situation if he just goes one step further. 

It’s his thing. That’s why he still deals even though he has a “proper” job now. The record shop pays shit but it’s plenty enough for his third of the rent between Steve and Gareth, or when his van decides to break down and he needs a quick wad of cash. 

But if Eddie wants anything extra, he’s gotta do a little extra and yeah, screw his dad for giving him that insatiable goddamn need for more no matter the risk. He’s slowed down at least, only dimebags now, but still. He’s pushing it. 

Anyway, Eddie Munson has an impulsive need for overindulgence. That’s why the first time that he runs and outright flings himself at Steve simply because he’s curious if Steve will catch him, and Steve does… Well, Eddie just can't stop after that. 

He’s not getting off on it, he hasn’t sunk that low, it’s actually just fun to see what Steve will let him get away with. 

He really takes a gamble one night after his band finishes playing their set.

“You left Robin all alone with that pretty redhead at the bar?” Eddie sets his guitar aside, grinning down at Steve near the edge of the stage.

“Yeah, wanted to be the first to congratulate the rockstar for his cool show.” Of course Steve did, he’s stupid sweet like that, smirking up at Eddie, “Or should I say it was metal?” 

“Thanks, charmer, but no.” 

Eddie can’t help it, doesn’t give any warning before he jumps right off the stage, just knowing that Steve won’t let him fall and he doesn’t. Steve throws his arms out with a surprised grunt just in time to catch Eddie like a bride over the damn threshold, both of them laughing. 

“Now that was metal.”

“You’re outta your mind, Munson,” Steve doesn’t even care that Eddie’s all sweaty, just carries him over to the bar and buys him round after round. He never stopped smiling the entire night. 

Then, when Eddie’s nervous out of his mind, opening the letter after his third time taking his GED test, psyched to find out that he finally passed and could start community college with everyone next semester. Hell, Steve seems even happier than Eddie, having been there the first two times when Eddie sulked on the couch and tried not to cry. 

So Eddie can’t help it then either, jumping into Steve’s arms and cackling when Steve spun him around in a hug like something out of a stupid Disney movie. 

And later, Gareth called over Jeff and Grant, and Steve rounded up Dustin and Robin so they could all surprise Eddie and celebrate. That night was the first time Steve stopped Eddie from launching at him.

Instead, he turned Eddie around, dipped down to hoist Eddie’s legs around his neck, and lifted him on his shoulders while everyone cheered and toasted. They even let Dustin spray them with the cheapest champagne from the corner-store. 

Steve carried Eddie around like that for a good half-hour. When he finally sat him down on the counter, it was with a quiet smile, standing between Eddie’s knees, cheeks rosy wine colored as he murmured, “Can I say, in the least sappy way, I’m proud of you, Eds. Congrats.” 

By the end of the night, Eddie was warm and buzzing pleasantly all over, not just from the bubbly. 

And then another time, and another time, and another, and then. 

It happens. 

~

It’s a boring Wednesday afternoon, they both have to be at work at the same time, so Eddie decided to make it interesting and bet Steve he’d be ready to go before him. 

By the time he’s changed into one of his endless band tees, Steve’s already stuffed himself into another pair of his torturously short shorts, both of them racing down the stairs at the same time. 

Of course, Eddie hops onto Steve’s back as soon as Steve gains the lead, latching around him like something feral, laughing maniacally as Steve tries to throw him off. Only when they reach the bottom of the staircase does Steve manage to pry Eddie off, swinging him around until he’s back on his own feet. 

Eddie tries to take off toward the door, but Steve holds him back with a handful of his shirt, making heat swoop low in Eddie’s stomach at the rough contact.

“Ah ah ah, where do you think you’re going?”

It happens like a fever dream. Steve rasps right into his ear, close enough for his warm breath to scald Eddie’s skin. 

“Try not to get in too much trouble today, Munson. You’re already off to a bad start.” 

Then Steve, Honest to God, gives Eddie a swift pat on the ass, leaving him stunned in place as he jogs out the door. 

It takes Eddie’s mind a long… long moment to wrap around what just happened. 

It’s obviously some stupid jock habit that’s stuck with Steve, smacking each other’s asses in the locker room or on the basketball court, completely oblivious to the implications. He’s such a damn token straight golden boy, he probably doesn’t even realize he’s got his little gay nerd friend going all kinds of crazy. 

So Eddie reels it in. He doesn’t want to look too much into what was clearly just some lighthearted gesture, not even a proper smack. It definitely wasn’t meant to have Eddie’s knees going weak, or turning his blood hot under his skin in the shape of Steve’s hand or— Nope, because Eddie’s not even into that.

#the first chapter is almost done and it is both hilarious and steamy if i do say so myself #steddie #mp #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie x steve #my fic #my fics

[locklyle-for-a-long-while]

“But now…”

Lockwood is so vulnerable in this moment.

He’s responding directly to what she said just before she stormed away from him and into their house:

“What does it even matter if we end up stabbed, or dead at the bottom of the Thames with nobody left to care?!

This doesn’t feel like winning.”

He stood there stunned, watching her go.

Hours before, he had stood in the same spot near a different taxi, watching her stride towards him in the same blue dress with the wind in her hair. She was a vision. He smiled despite himself.

“So it’s just us”

“Is that alright?” He had asked, as she held his gaze, her smile warming him thoroughly in the chill air, his heart pounding as he held the cab door for her.

There was no smile for him now.

And it was all his fault.

After showering off the river and putting on a fresh set of clothes, he’s had a quiet moment to think about what she said in anger… and how right she was to say it. She has the truth of the matter- he put them in terrible danger and they only barely survived the night. He was so reckless and careless and utterly foolish. The self loathing voice in his head threatens to take over as the weight of it settles on his mind. She’d be right to leave him, to hate him and never forgive him, he thinks, and the thought almost breaks his heart. Self loathing collides with a sense of desperation— she can’t leave me …I need her… I’ve fallen completely and desperately in love with Lucy …and I can’t—I mustn’t— screw this up, …if I haven’t already. He takes a slow breath and gathers himself, mentally rehearsing his apology before finding her in the kitchen.

He struggles through the apology… it’s not enough. The words feel like they’re falling flat and sound hollow in his ears. He moves closer, unsure if that will help but compelled to be close, drawn to her as always.

“I just wanted to say, don’t give up on us— please”

She drops the butter knife and it clangs to the plate.

He knows he’s got it wrong- he’s barely half way to the truth. He moves closer, compelled to see her and desperate to look into her eyes. He turns his body to her, she hesitates, still and waiting.

“Or, what I really should say is… don’t give up on me.”

Now she turns to him, and he’s grateful for it. Though her expression is unreadable, she gives him strength to show her his darkness. It’s her strength now that compels him:

“To be honest the bottom of the Thames used to be a far more appealing place to be.

And really no one would have cared.

But now…”

Is almost a question he poses, it’s so tentative.

There’s so much unsaid after those two words, and he has to believe it’s enough and she already knows the rest:

But now… Now I want to live. Because of you, Lucy. You came along and gave me something to live for.

But now, maybe someone would care if I ended up at the bottom of the Thames. I didn’t dare to think you cared about me, Lucy… but then you went and told me so. It was just before we went into Winkman’s auction earlier that night.

I was frustrated and rash and I said “when my time comes I don’t plan on leaving anyone behind who’s going to stare at that door every night, wishing I would just walk through it one more time”

And then you stopped me in my tracks:

“Well you should have never let me in, or George, because now it’s far too late.”

And that left me speechless.

So yes, I can say something as profound and crazy as “but now…” because I dare to believe you, Lucy. I have to try to believe you, to believe that I matter to someone. To two people even, my best friends that I love dearly and one that I love so deeply that it terrifies me.

“But now…”.

Silence. I have no more words. And I hope it’s enough.

I can only stare into her eyes, totally at her mercy, waiting for whatever she might say next …fully knowing it can break me. But what else can I do. I’m wrecked for her. And I’m a complete idiot and we both know it and she’d be right to reject my apology, to reject me. I stand with bated breath, looking into her beautiful eyes not daring to hope for forgiveness.

“Grenadier guard or policeman”

I exhale.

A wave of relief floods through my chest as the tension I didn’t know I held is released. I struggle to stand composed, this close to her while I’m taken by a flood of gratefulness and love for this fierce and brilliant girl who has —and forever will have— my heart.

#locklyle #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #lockwood and co #save lockwood and co #lockwood netflix #locknation #renew lockwood and co

[scoops-aboy86]

Cute hospital date shenanigans for the boys, and a brief shovel talk from Robin. 😊

Part 1, part 1.5, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9 of the love spell no go au

They do have their hospital cafeteria date a few weeks later, and the food is as terrible as Steve promised. Or it looks terrible, anyway; Eddie sticks to jello. Eventually Steve gives up on the saddest attempt at a club sandwich either of them has ever seen (and Eddie has been privy to Wayne’s half-hearted bachelor attempts in the kitchen for years), gets back in line, and comes back with a tray full to capacity with more jello cups. 

They attempt to treat them like jello shots until Eddie nearly busts a stitch laughing. Not quite, but It still hurts, and Steve keeps falling all over himself apologizing for the next half hour, but Eddie genuinely doesn’t care. It feels like he hasn’t been able to laugh like that in years, and before he’d grabbed his side and said “Ow” he thinks Steve looked more carefree than he’d seen him in… possibly ever. The existence of Upside Down had been weighing on him for years, and even though Eddie hadn’t known at the time he can tell that Steve holds himself differently now that it’s gone. In just the time Eddie has been awake, the dark smudges under his eyes have gotten lighter, less severe. 

And, Robin tells him one of the rare occasions Steve isn’t at his bedside, the obsessive jogging and workout sessions have tapered off. 

“Thank god,” Eddie groans, leaning theatrically back into his pillows as if in a swoon. “I don’t think my delicate constitution could handle it if he ever asked me to go for a run with him.” But really, he’s relieved that Steve isn’t pushing himself so hard, running himself ragged to prepare for a threat that has finally been put down for good. 

Robin snorts. “Yeah, I think we can safely rule out that happening. He pestered Dustin into helping him find books on physical therapy at the library though, so I’m pretty sure you’re still in for it.”

“… Okay, that sounds ominous.”

“Doesn’t it just.” She leans forward, eyes narrowing slightly. “The dingus is very invested in making sure you heal up as best you can, and I think you know what happens when he sets his mind to something. You’re going to get well to within an inch of your life, mister, and if you ever bitch enough to make him truly upset or feel unwanted in any way, I will destroy your fretting hand. Got it?”

Eddie swallows hard. “Loud and clear, Bucks.”

“Good!” Robin sits back, switching easily from deeply threatening to relaxed and smirking. “Now that that’s out of the way, I can tease you for being just as much of a romantic as he is. A love spell, really?”

That’s when Steve returns from the bathroom, overhears, and groans. “Rob, I hadn’t told him I told you yet! You’re making me look like a jackass…”

“No no, I knew what I was getting into with you two,” Eddie says, recovering from the threat Steve had missed and flashing him a grin—because he does. Even before he was clued in on all the monster hunting stuff, he’s seen how close Steve and Robin have become since last summer. It makes even more sense now that he knows about the Russians (and that as a lesbian and a bisexual dude they’d bonded over a shared appreciation of boobies) but he already knew they tell each other everything and support each other relentlessly, even if it’s something dumb. Maybe especially if it’s something dumb. 

And then he turns back to Robin with a gleam in his eye. 

“By the way, Bucks, you might want to get used to the door swinging both ways, because I heard about the time you screwed up the laundry and crawled in his window before dawn on a school day looking like a pink marshmallow peep trying to steal some of his clothes.”

Robin whips her head around towards Steve. “You swore you wouldn’t tell anyone about that!”

“Why are both of you doing this to me?” Steve asks with a pout. “What did I do?”

“You’re a gossip, sweetheart,” Eddie tells him with a grin. “But we both still love you, don’t worry. Here, you want my pudding cup?”

“I thought that was the only part of the shitty hospital meals you actually like,” Steve protests, but gamely comes over (via the side of the bed opposite of Robin, who sticks her tongue out at him) and settles himself carefully on the edge of the bed at Eddie’s side. 

“The meatloaf is marginally more edible than whatever that chicken casserole thing they usually serve. But we can share,” Eddie offers, and takes Steve’s pleased hum as his answer.

“You guys are going to give me a toothache,” Robin grumbles. 

Steve lifts his head a little. “Shit, that reminds me. Help me remember later to call the dentist?” He’s looking at Robin, but quickly redirects his attention as soon as Eddie nudges the pudding spoon against his lips. 

“Oh? What happened to Mr. Oh So Superior, ‘I never have to go to the dentist Robs, that whole summer eating ice cream and not one single cavity’?”

At the word ‘cavity,’ a tiny landslide of memory is triggered in the back of Eddie’s head and he clears his throat sheepishly. “Uh, that might’ve been me, actually. The not getting cavities after Scoops, and the, um, getting them again now.”

Steve pauses with his mouth full of a second spoonful, little traces of chocolate on his lips that Eddie is valiantly resisting licking right now. His “Mm-hmm?” sounds like it’s maybe meant to be a ‘Really?’

So Eddie explains some of his panicked spellcasting while Steve was missing beneath the mall. Steve and Robin keep exchanging these looks—”Was it to protect teeth or nails, Munson? Which one?” “Yeah, because I almost got a nail pulled off with Russian pliers, so maybe it was both” is a series of sentences that will haunt him for a long time—and by the time it’s over he’s promised to recast that spell for the entire Party. He declines to mention it’ll probably be a while before he has the energy for that and will leave him with a monster headache whenever he does, because they just saved the fucking world. And yeah, the government is flat out paying them not to tell anyone about it this time along with the usual NDAs, but they definitely deserve to exist free of dental expenses for the rest of their lives. 

Also by the end of the conversation, Steve has absentmindedly finished off the pudding. Eddie doesn’t even mind, just chuckles and kisses Steve’s nose when he tries to apologize, because he’d wanted his boy to have it anyway. 

Tag list (comment to be added): @hotluncheddie @8em-em-em8 @anaibis @connected-dots @lawrencebshoggoth

Part 11

#wg steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #love spell no go au #scoops words

[cherryjuiceblues]

Do you think Harry would ever try to help her out with little things when they’re out with friends or something and y/n is so worried about people thinking she’s weak or not a feminist that’s she’s like “no it’s ok!” Even though she would love to just have her Harry take care of it? Like maybe (probably later) they have some friends over to Harry’s place or something and she’s just trying to get herself some water or open a bottle of wine. But Harry sees her begin to struggle to reach the glass or get the cork screw in so he’s like “ here baby let me help you”. And he wouldn’t make a big deal about babying her obviously so in his mind it’s nothing! But y/n would quickly try to say it’s fine and she can do it, because she doesn’t want people to think she’s not competent enough to do a simple task. But eventually after some more struggling and some raised eyebrows from Harry, when the guests turn their backs or leave the room she’s looking up at him with pleading eyes and he quickly finishes it up for her before anyone can tell.

Maybe later he would want to ask her what was wrong and make sure she communicates her feelings with him. But he would assure her that no one would ever think of her that way, and if they did he wouldn’t allow them in his home <3

this is so special anon 🥹 i love this so much :(

harry wouldn't even think that him helping her out would be something to notice or to be considered odd. because, of course, he should take all her bags for her when they're shopping and, of course, he should pay for her, and speak for her when she's shy, and encourage her to sit down or drink some water. he's just taking care of her like he always does :( and maybe a friend throws out a truly offhanded comment, "wow, harry really answers to your beck and call, huh?" and people chuckle but y/n suddenly feels sad and embarrassed because... was she useless? was she ordering him around? was she making a fool out of herself? and harry doesn't make a big deal out of it because he instantly sees her deflate and doesn't want to upset her further. but he'd say, "just taking care of the lovely lady." and like turn the focus on something else :( and then y/n would try to take her own bags and not cling onto his arm and she withdraws a little. and when they get home, their friends are staying for dinner and they need to bring some extra chairs from another room. and usually y/n would ask for help but she does it all on her own, and harry sees her trying to carry like two chairs at once and he scrambles to help her. and her voice is small :( "it's okay, i can do it," but she's still frowning, and maybe she feels ashamed that she's really struggling. and then with drinks, she'd get all overwhelmed trying to sort everything out because harry always takes care of this stuff :( but she insists that it's fine ! and then when she disappears to the kitchen, harry follows and just pulls her into his chest and says all the right things. "you are a big girl, y/n. i know that, everyone knows that. there is no shame in accepting help, especially when i want to give it to you. it makes me happy, darlin'. let me help you. don't give a fuck about what anyone says, i promise." and they're walking out hand in hand and harry is holding both their drinks in his massive paw :(( and she sits on his lap and snuggles in :((( and after everyone has left he clears everything up and orders y/n to stay sat and she just watches him with heart eyes :((((((

#anon #mutually beneficial

[myfairkatiecat]

Compare your Keefe boy to a song, BUT it can't be Olivia Rodrigo or Taylor Swift >:)

OOOOHHH THIS IS DIFFICULT BUT I CAN DO THIS

all the things she said by tATu!!!

Gonna paste the lyrics here:

All the things she said

All the things she said

Running through my head

Running through my head

Running through my head

All the things she said

All the things she said

Running through my head

Running through my head

All the things she said (all the things she said)

This is not enough (enough, enough, enough)

^^that’s the chorus, and I think it’s about the things his mother said to him growing up, prepping him to have a “legacy,” making him wonder what things might be like if she actually loved him….

I'm in serious shit, I feel totally lost

If I'm asking for help it's only because

Being with you has opened my eyes

Could I ever believe such a perfect surprise?

^^keefe doesn’t ask for help. He hides behind jokes and runs away when his defenses fall. But with sophie… she’s special to him. And he’s less afraid to ask for help.

I keep asking myself, wondering how

I keep closing my eyes but I can't block you out

Want to fly to a place where it's just you and me

Nobody else, so we can be free

Nobody else, so we can be free

^^keefe reveals in stellarlune that he tried to ignore Sophie’s telepathic message after he ran away to keep himself from thinking of her and wanting to come home. He doesn’t want to face his reality, but he doesn’t want to be away from sophie either 😭

And I'm all mixed up, feeling cornered and rushed

They say it's my fault but I want her so much

Want to fly her away where the sun and rain

Come in over my face, wash away all the shame

^^Keefe has a lot of things that are his fault. If you’ve seen me post about him, you know he’s screwed up. Big time. And a lot. And of course he cares, he cares, he cares about sophie so so so much and he wishes he could have her but during his time in the forbidden cities he doesn’t think he CAN have her because she has Fitz and he wants her to be happy. He wishes he and sophie could live in this perfect world where he hadn’t hurt her and all his friends and himself. In unlocked, he even refers to the issue with the caches as “the one betrayal he couldn’t seem to fix”—Keefe is trying so hard. But too often, it isn’t enough.

When they stop and stare, don't worry me

'Cause I'm feeling for her what she's feeling for me

I can try to pretend, I can try to forget

But it's driving me mad, going out of my head

^^Keefe knows, since he is an empath, that Sophie’s emotions are torn regarding romance, even before SHE knows it. He tries to not worry about he, he tells himself he wants her to be happy with Fitz, but he knows she has feelings for her because he can feel them and in his nightfall short story he agrees with Ro that it drives him crazy—but he wants sophie to have whatever she wants. (Good thing in stellarlune she realizes she wants him so they can have their happy ending.)

Mother looking at me

Tell me what do you see?

Yes, I've lost my mind

Daddy looking at me

Will I ever be free?

Have I crossed the line?

^^if you haven’t realized by now, KEEFE’S PARENTS ARE THE WORST. His father is abusive and neglectful. His mother is a villain who only wants to use him to her own ends. And he feels as though he’ll never be free of them, either of them, always… and his mother tells him, all the time, to “embrace the change,” to “fulfill his legacy,” and he doesn’t want to be changed by his mom and he’s grieving the mother he thought he knew who wasn’t a good parent but wasn’t THIS either… and he does wonder sometimes. Has he crossed the line? Is this the betrayal he WON’T be able to fix? How many times will sophie forgive him? How many times will the thing he is SURE is right turn out to actually be wrong?

All the things she said

All the things she said

Running through my head

Running through my head

Running through my head

THANK YOU FOR THIS ASK SOPHIE!!! This was so much fun—and now I’m having Keefe feelings!! (But then, when am I not?)

#kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #keefe sencen #all the things she said

[tunastime]

For the writing prompt thingy- #15 Rendoc? /nf

15. dearest / ache (x) (777 words)

Doc is making coffee. Ren is standing behind him. He isn’t sure why. That is, until Ren lets his head fall forward, colliding with the cold metal curve of Doc’s right shoulder. His coffee cup sloshes, but doesn’t spill. 

“Mrrmmgg,” Ren says.

“Riveting.” Doc stirs sugar, no cream, into the coffee. It’s just enough to round it out. It’s cheap coffee, company issue. He can’t complain.

“Ugh,” Ren supplies, as if it clarifies anything. Doc sighs, turning as much as Ren’s slouch will allow him. Ren’s head shifts from his shoulder blade to his shoulder. He’s frowning, deeply, eyes screwed shut as they stand together.

“Alright. What’s up?”

Ren raises his arm weakly. Doc watches the mechanisms whirr in the gaps of the metal as Ren flexes his fingers. Ren pulls in a breath through his teeth when he bends and sets the arm back limp by his side.

“My arm hurts, man. It aches,” he whines. He sounds particularly pathetic, which is half the reason why Doc fixes him with such a look of sympathy. It’s hard sometimes to understand what goes on inside Ren’s head, but his expression makes it clear enough that Doc feels it in his chest.

“Oh?” Doc sets his cup down. “Part of it, or...?”

“I dunno,” Ren sighs. When Doc glances down to look at him, he can see tired lines under his eyes. He doesn’t remember if Ren slept last night. “Enough of it for me to not want to move, that’s what.”

“Well, let me see,” he holds out his hand, waiting for Ren to unhook it or pass it to him. Instead he lifts his whole arm and sets his elbow in his palm and doesn’t move from his spot at his shoulder. Doc turns his wrist, smoothing his thumbs over the metal surface. “Is it working okay?”

Ren finally lifts his head to look at him and his shoulders sag. 

“It feels stiff,” he complains, mostly in a huff.

“Ah. Like it wont move right?” Doc frowns. Ren nods.

“Mhm.”

“Let’s see,” he lets go of Ren’s arm, lowering it to his side. He turns away for only a moment in their cramped little space. There are tools somewhere beneath papers and cups and half finished ready-to-eat meals. When he glances around again, Ren is still standing where he left him, holding his arm in his hand. His ears twitch, pinned back against his head. Doc waves at him. “Sit, sit.”

Ren startles, turning in a circle before he finds a chair to sit down in.

“I’m sitting, I’m sitting,” he says, laughing to himself.

Doc keeps searching for the shulker he knows has his good pliers. He ducks below the desk with the coffee pot on top and spots the purple shell, reaching for it. He finally manages to catch the lip.

“How about we take it off?” he asks Ren as he turns. Ren grumbles.

“Because then I have to get used to it again.”

Doc laughs, and though Ren doesn’t look pleased, the tension in his face softens a bit.

“You’ll be alright, it won’t be more than a few hours. How about that?”

“Fine, fine,” Ren complains tiredly. “But I’m watching you work.”

He turns so that Doc can unclasp the metal arm from his shoulder. He folds up his shirt sleeve for him, glancing away as Doc works to release it. It’s a familiar pattern, one they’ve done quite often. When the metal is too heavy to carry, Ren will leave the arm in his care, let him fix it, let him rework it. Renbob helps, sometimes, and Doc bets that it's a sight for sore eyes, to see them fussing over something of Ren’s. Ren stretches up with his good arm, sighing as he does. The arm comes loose with a click. Doc sets it down on the work table and flips on the pale light hanging over it. 

As he starts to work, Ren shuffles forward in his chair, eventually resting his chin against Doc’s shoulder. He feels him hum in greeting, and inclines his head in acknowledgement.

Doc lets him sit beside him, a comforting and familiar weight on his shoulder. Ren watches him work for a long time, unlatching the main mechanisms, readjusting the wheels and wires, laying redstone and grease. There’s a half stuck release mechanism that he manages to unhook, and the joints move quiet and precise. He sets down his pliers after a long moment, a long stretch of silence between them. He flexes his fingers. When he turns his head, he rests his chin on Ren’s head.

“Ren, you okay, dude?” he asks. Ren doesn’t reply. “Ren?” 

Ren’s shoulders rise and fall slowly. His ears twitch, just for a second. He lies heavy on Doc’s shoulder, not moving, not stirring. Doc leans into him, smiling.

“Oh, Ren...” Doc sighs. “if you needed a nap that badly, you should have said something. Silly.”

#ANON IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG #at ur behest: them #rendoc #rendog #docm77 #hermitshipping #hermitcraft #hermitcraft fic #mcyt #mcyt fic #renthedog #in hc8 they r married and in love i refuse to believe otherwise #they r now bitter exes #this is a joke i promise #but seriously i've never written them before and i actually kind of loved learning their dynamic #i apologize if it's not perfect!! #i had to rewatch the beginning of s8 omg

[engie-ivy]

(Wolfstar Get-Together Fluff, for @wolfstarmicrofic)

27th: Malevolent

Sirius failed his best subject and cannot go to Hogsmeade, and Remus is a little hurt that he seems to care so little about their plans.

Bogus

“I’ve said I’m sorry!”

“And how does that help me?”

Sirius throws up his hands. “Well, I don’t know what else you want from me!”

Remus places his hands on his hips. “I don’t want you to think you can just screw up, say sorry, and then it’s all good again!”

“This isn’t fun for me either, Remus.”

Remus scoffs. “Then you should’ve thought about that sooner.”

To understand why Remus is so upset, you must know that Sirius is great with animals, uncannily great. Of course, he’s an Animagus, and being able to become an animal himself makes it easier to connect with them, especially with dogs. But Sirius has also bonded with all the cats in the Gryffindor tower, plus there’s a Kneazle living near Hogsmeade that Remus would swear sometimes does chores for him, although Sirius still denies this. Furthermore, while owls are excellent for sending letters and a pigeon can occasionally be convinced, Sirius can get any bird to deliver his mail. Remus still remembers the shock of suddenly seeing a bloody parrot in his windowsill (and still vividly remembers the sharpness of his beak, as he did not get along with the animal as well as Sirius). James will often joke that Sirius could probably even befriend a Hippogriff if he wanted, that’s how great he is with animals.

So, Sirius is the only one of the Marauders, and one of the few Hogwarts students in general, who’s taking Care of Magical Creatures at a NEWT level, to his parents’ great dismay, as according to them, it’s only a small step above Muggle Studies. Needless to say, Sirius excels in Care of Magical Creatures, though of course there’s little Sirius doesn’t excel at, but when it comes to Care of Magical Creatures, he’s a straight O student.

Until now, that is.

Sirius got a Dreadful on his latest essay, which means he failed so bad he needs to spend the weekend helping professor Kettleburn with chores for extra credit to make up for his poor performance.

Normally, Remus wouldn’t really care if Sirius is stupid enough to ruin his perfect record by bungling his work, but the thing is, this weekend is the last Hogsmeade weekend of the school year, and both James and Peter managed to get dates, so Remus and Sirius were supposed to go together, and Remus had really been excited for it.

Remus knows that someone as brilliant as Sirius, for whom everything always comes easy, would never fail an essay in his best subject unless he wasn’t really trying.

And that hurts.

“I know it sucks,” Sirius sighs. “But these things happen, Remus.”

It hurts that Sirius didn’t care that he and Remus had plans, that Remus had been counting on those plans, that Remus now has no one to go with. (And that Remus’ heart broke into a million pieces knowing that Sirius cares so little about something that meant so much to him, but Sirius can’t care about that, because he must never find out about that)

“Stop acting like you had no control over it,” Remus snaps. “You could’ve seen this coming, you could’ve avoided it, if you had really wanted.”

“Yes, okay, I screwed up, it’s all my fault!”

Remus crosses his arms over his chest and looks away. “I had just really been looking forward to it, that’s all.”

Sirius averts his eyes. “Yeah,” he says softly. “Yeah, I know.”

When Remus wakes up the next morning, the Hogsmeade Saturday, he feels guilty. Maybe Sirius had a bad day, maybe he really did try, maybe he was already feeling like crap for failing, and then Remus had gone and made it worse.

Remus slept late, as he has nowhere to go today anyway. Sirius left early already for his extra credit work, which they refer to as detention, though professor Kettleburn has made it clear that it’s not a punishment, but an extra chance.

At breakfast, Remus decides that maybe later he’ll walk into Hogsmeade on his own, so that first he can go and ask Sirius if he can bring him anything, by means of a peace offering.

“Hello, professor.”

Professor Kettleburn turns around from where he was helping a young Knarl drink some milk. “Oh, hello. Mr Lupin, right?”

“Yes, that’s right,” Remus replies. “I was looking for Sirius Black?”

“Ah, I’m afraid you just missed him! I sent him to feed the Thestrals.” Professor Kettleburn smiles. “Shouldn’t you be in Hogsmeade with your classmates?”

“Ah, well, I was supposed to go with Sirius...”

“Right, of course.” Professor Kettleburn looks a bit embarrassed. “Sorry about that. I really wish I didn’t have to make him do this during his weekend. I even gave him some extra days to work on the assignment, hoping I could just let him pass. I mean, he’s the best student I ever had! To be honest, I think I can learn more from him than he from me, at this point,” he chuckles, but then he sighs deeply. “But he truly left me no choice.”

“His essay was that bad, huh?”

Professor Kettleburn huffs. “What he wrote cannot be called an essay.”

“What did he write then?” Remus asks, still curious how Sirius could’ve failed, despite himself.

“Bogus.”

Remus frowns. “What was so bogus about it?”

Professor Kettleburn shakes his head. “No, I mean that’s literally what he wrote. He handed in a piece of parchment with only the word ‘bogus’ written on it.”

Remus’ stomach sinks. So Sirius didn’t have a bad day, he actually didn’t even try. He really didn’t even think about their weekend. Or, a treacherous voice in the back of Remus’ mind whispers, maybe he was thinking about it, and purposely got himself detention so he wouldn’t have to go with you. Maybe he knows about your pathetic little crush and feels uncomfortable being alone with you.

“I mean,” professor Kettleburn continues, though Remus is so lost in thought he’s barely listening. “It’s not my favourite topic either, and granted, the literature in the matter is somewhat outdated, but it’s obligated material for the NEWTs, so it’s not like I can just allow him to skip it! Also, regardless of Mr Black’s thoughts on the matter, it’s still a prevalent belief that detaining Lycanthropes is the best way to-”

Remus snaps his head up. “Wait, what?”

“That was what the essay should’ve been about,” professor Kettleburn explains. “ ‘Preventative Detainment and Constrainment as Methods for Dealing with Malevolent Lycanthropes’. And even after handing in that single word parchment, I still gave him a three-day extension as a final chance to complete the assignment, but Mr Black just point blankly refused to write even a single word on the topic!” Professor Kettleburn shakes his head. “Truly such a shame. He had a perfect record before this. With that, he might’ve had a chance at an internship with Newt Scamander himself!”

Remus stares at him wide-eyed. “He got detention, ruined his perfect record, missed out on a rare opportunity... because he refused to write negatively on Lycanthropes?” He asks in a small voice.

Professor Kettleburn tilts his head. “Are you alright, Mr Lupin? You look a bit pale.”

“I’m fine,” Remus manages to say while his head is spinning. “I just... need a moment. Thank you, professor, you’ve been very helpful. Now, please excuse me.”

The moment Sirius steps into the dorm late in the day, looking tired and weary, Remus tackles him into a firm hug.

Sirius tenses up for a moment out of surprise, then he lets out a deep breath. “Ah, professor Kettleburn told you.”

“You should’ve told me!” Remus says, looking up at him.

Sirius gives him an apologetic look. “You know I don’t like you being confronted with those bogus things the world says about you.”

Remus huffs. “I’d rather be mad at the world than be mad at you. You’re more important.”

“More important than the world?” Sirius asks with a smile.

“Shut up,” Remus says, only hugging him tighter.

“I’m grateful,” Remus says, as he and Sirius are lying on Remus’ bed to talk, on their sides facing each other. “But really, you didn’t have to do all that.”

“Ah, yes,” Sirius sighs dramatically. “Not doing my homework was such a sacrifice for me.”

Remus chuckles and gives Sirius a playful shove. “Shut it. You didn’t get to go to Hogsmeade as well, and I know you missed out on a possible opportunity at an internship with Scamander himself.”

Sirius shrugs. “It was a long shot anyway. Though I am very sorry about missing our weekend.”

“There’ll be other weekends next year,” Remus replies, regretting how he had been trying to make Sirius feel guilty about it before.

“Yeah,” Sirius replies. “But since I heard that Prongs blew his nose in Madam Puddifoot’s antique thousand-year-old embroidered napkin, and she turned his hair pink and chased him out of her café, I doubt Prongs will have a date again next weekend, or well, ever.”

“Oh, Prongsie,” Remus groans, pressing his face against his pillow. “So next time we’ll probably won’t have a second chance at a Hogsmeade weekend with just the two of us?”

“Well, I was thinking,” Sirius says, reaching out and taking Remus’ hand in his. “If we want a do-over and go with just the two of us, we could tell the others that next time, we are having a date?”

Remus’ heart almost beats out of his chest, and his stomach flutters in anticipation. “Just telling them, or...?”

���Or we could make it an actual date?” Sirius asks, sounding a bit breathless. “If you’d like?”

“Yes,” Remus replies, squeezing Sirius’ hand. “Yes, I’d like that very much!”

(I've always liked Sirius as a Healer (to-be), but I also love the idea of him being super good with animals! I think it rather fits. Being an Animagus, his friendships with Crookshanks and Buckbeak (and Hippogriffs are notoriously difficult), and getting tropical birds to deliver his letters)

#my tumblr writing #wolfstar microfic #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #sirius loves animals #animals love sirius