#this was my third day with a fever and i hate this
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Give Me Shelter, For My Heart | Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader | One Shot? 3k
Things are missing around the Avengers' compound and a newly returned Bucky is acting weirder than normal...Steve and Sam go to investigate and discover more than they bargained for.
Warnings: 18+ for language and suggestion of Hydra violence/torture/experimentation, omegaverse themes including alpha & omega, suggestion of pregnancy/pups, wolf shifting Rated F for Fluff and G for good friends
Challenges & Prompts: @buckybarnesevents Alpha Bucky April with extra prompts - word count, nesting, purring, beta characters, (I'll let mods decide if this hits the breeding/baby fever prompt). And @fandom-free-bingo 'forehead kisses'
Graphic by me and Canva, dividers by @firefly-graphics & @reveriesources
Masterlist | Bucky Barnes
“Hmm,” Steve looked around the supply room, surveying the gaps and empty shelves, normally well stocked with blankets and provisions. It was the third time this week he’d found himself at a loss, not just for words but his things too. Everything seemed to be going missing.
First it was a few plates and mugs from the galley kitchen by his office, then it’d been the lunch he’d left for him and Bucky in the fridge. Last night he’d gone into Bucky’s room to make sure he was okay and found the man sleeping on a bare mattress, all the sheets, pillows and blankets were gone and the newly revived Bucky refused to explain what had happened to them or even acknowledge that there was anything wrong at all. He hadn’t even addressed that fact that the window was wide open and it looked as if he was sleeping in his shoes.
Which brought Steve’s thoughts to the man himself. Bucky had been so odd since he’d returned. For a day or two, he’d been something like his old self, despite the awful situation they found themselves in, he’d joked with Steve and reminisced with the few memories he had. They’d enjoyed a beer together and he’d even met with Tony during their mediation and patched things up.
Then, they’d all climbed onto the jet and he’d become distant, pacing like a caged animal until they’d landed. As soon as the doors were open he’d vanished for forty-eight hours and sent the entire compound into mayhem before strolling back in as if nothing had happened, bruised and covered in blood. Judging by the bandages he sported later that day, his cuts and bruises spread under his shirt and trousers too.
Steve knew that he’d changed during his time with Hyrda, back in the 30s they’d both been betas, happy to plod along ignoring the madness of the few alpha’s in Brooklyn. It had been a rare thing then, to be an alpha, now they were considered a dying breed, so when Bruce’s tests had revealed that Bucky was an alpha now, they’d tried to take it in their stride that he might go off on his own sometimes, especially since omegas were even rarer. But there was still so much they didn’t know, so much to unpack and discover about the Bucky they’d rescued, and Steve was so desperate to spend time getting to know this new man that all the time apart was making him worry.
“You okay?” Sam asked from the doorway, leaning in to hand Steve a hot cup of coffee.
“Just doing a stock check.”
“He take something else?” Sam stepped into the small room, lined with shelves and shelves of tents, camping stoves, parachutes, it seemed to go on and on. The bare grey shelves where stock was missing was stark against the white washed walls.
“He?”
“Barnes,” Sam sipped his coffee, matter of fact, and Steve confronted the worry that had been plaguing him.
“It’s Bucky, isn’t it?” Steve dropped his head heavily and Sam patted him on the back, still sipping his drink.
“Sorry man, told you, he’s not right yet. He’s not hurting anyone though, if he hates his bedding, who cares, if he hates your lunches, who could blame him.”
Sam sidestepped Steve’s halfhearted swipe with a grin on his face.
“But what’s he doing with it, Sam? Where’s it all going?”
“Hell, I don’t know, have you asked him?” Sam raised his eyebrows.
Had Steve asked his best friend, who flinched at his touch and shied away from any conversations? Bucky who vanished for hours at a time and came back looking as if he’d been dragged through a hedge? No, he hadn’t. He’d been too scared to confront what might be going on, what latent part of his programming might be at play.
“Look, if you’re too scared to ask why don’t I?”
Now it was Steve’s turn to raise his eyebrow, it wasn’t that Sam and Bucky didn’t get along, they just didn’t get along yet. Steve was working on it.
“What if we…followed him?” He offered instead and Sam laughed again.
“Who knew Captain America was scared of his own friends,” he couldn’t contain the chuckles. “Fine, fine. Let’s keep an eye on him.” Sam turned to the ceiling, more comfortable with the AI than Steve was. “FRIDAY, if Sergeant Barnes leaves his room, please can you alert us - privately?”
“Of course,” the soft voice answered and Steve gave his friend a weak smile.
FRIDAY’S alert went off twice a day, every day, over the next week. But despite their best efforts neither Steve nor Sam managed to catch up with Bucky.
It wasn’t until the following Saturday that they managed to follow him. Bucky was supposed to be at a training session to get his official certifications but they’d both had a feeling he’d try and skip it. As predicted they’d spotted the blue of his new henley edging around the side of the compound, a full backpack strapped to his back.
Bucky ran across the grass and towards the thick forest. His still uncut hair was tied back but tendrils fell out as he sprinted into the wind.
He was surprisingly loud, as he strode quickly between the trees, snapping twigs and branches that Steve knew he could’ve dodge even before the serum and his training. Sam looked at him, both of their feet silent as they followed.
Bucky’s speed increased as he turned his face up into the breeze, his backpack jostled against the trees, bouncing when he began to run.
Steve kept up, sending Sam wide, into the breeze, in case Bucky doubled back.
Just as he was starting to feel lost in the repetition of trees and ferns, Bucky burst into a clearing and Steve slammed to a halt.
The pine trees gave way to a small patch of clear sky, shining down on an old shed. Unlike the other abandoned guard houses, this one had obviously been cleaned recently. The small porch was swept and a pair of Avengers camping chairs were arranged neatly facing into the forest. A line had been strung between the cabin and the trees where one of the missing blankets fluttered in the gentle wind.
Steve crouched down, motioning to Sam on the other side of the clearing to stay out of sight.
Bucky approached slowly, “Cățeluș, are you here?”
At first there was nothing and then a wolf nosed its way out from behind the door, it’s chestnut brown fur almost gold in the sunlight. It leaped forwards from the porch and shot across the clearing, leaping into Bucky’s arms.
Steve whipped his head up to try and find Sam and by the time his eyes found Bucky again the wolf was gone, replaced by a woman pulling on a large t-shirt from Bucky’s backpack.
“James!” Her sweet voice rang out in the otherwise quiet forest.
Swamped by Bucky’s familiar red henley, you shot from the door and into Bucky's waiting arms, the back pack dropped to the floor and forgotten.
She was swamped by Bucky’s red henley and he wrapped you in his arms, one large hand on the back of your head, tucking you into his neck. The other supported your legs, now wrapped around his waist.
In the clearing Bucky's shoulders relaxed as he sank into your embrace, kissing and nipping at your neck. In return you tipped your head, practically purring at the attention and wriggling in his arms.
“Have you been okay, baby.” Bucky asked, pulling away enough to look you over.
“I'm okay, I missed you though, James, please don't leave me again.” You begged cupping his stubbled cheeks in your hands.
Bucky turned into your palm and kissed it, “I know, I know, I’ve been making sure it’s safe for you.”
Steve's heart sank. Bucky didn't feel safe?
“You trust me, don't you, my little omega.” Bucky rubbed his nose into your cheek and you giggled, holding him even tighter, your hands in his hair.
An omega?
Sam stared over at Steve, eyes wide.
It was clear to them both that this was no chance encounter and all Bucky’s odd behaviour suddenly started to make more sense.
Steve motioned for Sam to leave, they could sneak back to the compound and perhaps bring this up tentatively. Perhaps leave some items you might like lying around in the hopes that Bucky would take them and understand that his secret was out, but it was safe.
Sam moved swiftly round the clearing as Steve continued to watch Bucky.
Bucky vanished into the cabin, leaving you on the porch alone, snuggled into his shirt and pressing the collar to your nose.
“She’s cute,” Sam whispered, squeezing up against Steve, still hiding in the overgrown ferns that lined the edge of the cabin.
“We can’t let her sleep out here. She must be hungry and cold.”
Bucky emerged from the cabin carrying two of the missing mugs, balancing them carefully on the railing before scooping you up into his lap. His hand hovered by his mouth, sipping in slow motion as his eyes scanned the tree line and Steve took a breath, sitting back quickly.
“Stay here, Cățeluș,” he was up in a flash, eyes always on the tree line even when he reached into his boot to pull out a familiar gerber knife.
Instead of flipping it into his palm, he balanced it on the arm of your camping chair. Eyes still on the trees he placed his metal hand on top of your head, “stay here and stay safe, follow the plan, do what you need to.” His voice was low, series, almost a growl. Far away from the happy, loving tones he’d been speaking to you with before.
You nodded, and as soon as he felt your head move he was up and off the porch.
Steve and Sam looked up in time to see a wolf leap towards them.
It was true then, the experiments had worked and Steve had the cold feeling that returned every time he discovered something new about his friend during a fight, but he had no time to worry about it now. Not when the wolf was closing in on them.
It was huge, its white fur dusted with fallen leaves, but its teeth gleamed in the afternoon sun as he pounced, snarling. His paws the size of dinner plates slamming into the ground in front of them, teeth bared and snarling.
Steve rolled away, pulling Sam with him and covering his body, regretting not bringing the shield.
“Bucky!” Sam shouted from under Steve’s arm
“Bucky it’s us we don’t want to hurt you!”
The wolf pulled back from the two men pinned beneath him, and something like clarity passed over Bucky’s icey blue eyes and he sat on his haunches, head cocked to one side, ears floppy. Then it stood, rounding the bushes and, in a blink, the man had reappeared still hiding before the foliage to cover his naked body.
“Steve -” Bucky looked thoroughly confused,
“Bucky, we’re so sorry we shouldn’t have followed you.”
“What are you doing here?” Bucky’s voice wavered, his body cold without his fur and with his clothes left behind in the cabin.
“We were worried about you, man, you’ve been so weird - stealing stuff, going missin’, can you blame us for getting creeped out?” Sam raised his eyebrows and Bucky’s brow furrowed.
“Sorry, I’m sorry, I just had to -” he gestured back towards the cabin and, as if remembering he’d left you behind with no way of knowing he was safe he turned and ran back to the clearing.
Steve and Sam jumped up, chasing after Bucky once more.
The cabin porch was empty when Steve picked his way down the slope of mud and rocks into the clearing.
A howl rang out as he got closer to the little house, a high, pained sound and then the response came, low and level.
There were two wolves now, hidden at the side of the cabin in the shadows.
The white wolf kept itself half turned towards Steve and Sam, who kept quiet and still, barely daring to breathe, allowing its companion to approach slowly.
The brown wolf dropped in front of the white, ears flat back against its head, and then rolled over, showing a soft belly that the white wolf nuzzled gently before turning back to Steve and barking sharply.
Steve held his hands up and the wolf barked again, turning tail and returning to the cabin.
It took only moments for Bucky to show himself on the porch, pulling his henley back down over his now dirt streaked belly.
“Come in,” he gestured up the stairs and vanished again.
The cabin, though run down, was well kept. The porch was swept of leaves and there was even a little mat by the door.
“Shoes,” you whispered, pulling on Bucky’s sleeve as you entered the main living space, making an attempt to hide behind him. You’d dressed again too, also in one of Bucky’s henleys and a pair of leggings that Steve recognised as Avengers recruit issue.
“Do you mind?” Bucky asked while Steve and Sam stared between you both.
“Shoes,” you turned to look up at Bucky again, eyes pleading in one moment and then flicking to the two new men treading mud into your home.
“Your shoes, take them off.” Bucky helped them arrange their boots neatly by the door while you pottered around the fireplace. “This is her nest,” he whispered, making sure the doormat was straight and the little curtain was neat over the window. “It’s important to omegas, to her,” you turned shooting a glare over your shoulder, “to us-that it’s kept just right and she hates shoes inside.”
In the small living space a camping stove had been set up with a kettle, a portable fridge, and an assortment of mugs, both Avengers field regulation and novelty, which were set neatly on the mantel. You chose four, and placed them next to the kettle while it steamed happily away.
Bucky spoke softly to you in a mixture of English and Romanian, but you didn’t come any closer to the strange men. You’d seen them before, on the television and in Bucky’s notebooks, but now that they were here, so large and imposing, you couldn’t bring yourself to even look over.
“This is Cățeluș, well, that’s not her real name but we couldn’t find that. She - uh -” you watched Bucky struggle for words and lay a hand on his cheek, smiling warmly up at him. Your Winter, your James. “-I don’t want to say the word, it upsets her, but she was with me when I was - him - part of the experiments.”
You poured the tea quietly, watching the steam rise into the darts of sun making their way through the broken knots of wood in the wall, and you took a deep breath. With shaking hands you gave the first man, Sam, a cup. He had a gentle face, a wide smile and he didn’t look at you with pity, as you feared, only interest.
The second man held his breath as you approached, keeping his hands as close to his body as possible until you pushed the cup towards him. Steve. Bucky had lots of pictures of Steve in his notebooks and had told you more stories than you could remember, but he didn’t look sickly, he looked too big for the space, his shoulders drawn in, slouched. You appreciated that he was trying not to look scary, even though your every nerve was on edge.
Bucky took the proffered mug from your hands with a kiss to your forehead and you sighed, allowing him to steer you to the only arm chair in the room and then passing you your own tea.
“We got out, eventually and - I brought her here.” Bucky sat on the rolled arm of the chair, draping his own arm over your shoulders and fitting you into his side.
Steve and Sam could only stare.
“Why didn’t you bring her to the compound? She can stay -” Steve turned to you, “you can stay, either in Bucky’s room or you can have your own room if you’d prefer.”
It took you a moment to process the offer, but eventually you shook your head, turning into Bucky’s side.
“It was awful - in there, with them she, we both -” Bucky struggled for the words, the desire to protect you rising inside
“It’s okay,” Sam said carefully, “I know the transition’s been rough on you, Bucky, I can’t imagine what it’s been like for her, how you even got her out here. But there’s nothing to be afraid of, maybe she’ll come with you? If you suggest it?”
Sam kept looking at you, his eyes soft and encouraging but you turned away, pressed your face into Bucky’s ribs where his scent had soaked through his shirt, reassuring and primal, chanting in your head Alpha, safe, Alpha, safe. You did miss him, when he was gone, but how could he keep you safe in that place.
You’d seen it, once or twice, through the trees when you took a walk, looking for whatever you could find in the forest. Guards left lots of things behind, bottles and coats and jackets, useful things. You collected them all, skirting around the edge of that horrid white building and hoping to never see the terrifying things that flew out of it, men in suits and robots, it was too much.
“You can bring whatever you like with you, and maybe Nat and Wanda could help you with some new things, if you liked?” Steve followed Sam’s lead, keeping his voice steady and low.
“James - my nest.” You mumbled, gripping his henley in your fist.
He dropped a hand onto your head, “we can do whatever you like, baby. You want to stay here, we can stay, you want to go to the compound, we’ll go.”
You felt Bucky’s heart rate pick up, its beat hammering and your anxiety grew too, your breathing more ragged, you turned even further into him, practically climbing into his lap, the henley you’d taken from him riding up.
Instantly you knew it was a mistake, the scars of your time in Hydra were still visible, raised on your skin, yellowing patches of healing bruises and calloused skin from repeated bouts in the chair.
Sam and Steve could barely conceal their inhale of breath.
“Bucky, did you get her checked by a doctor or…” Sam trailed off, Bucky looked angry again, his arms fully surrounding you.
“And what would I have said, Sam?” He growled, “I know she looks like she’s been kept in a cage and beaten but please don’t arrest me, I promise it wasn’t me? Her social security number? Sorry, I don’t have it, we don’t even know her name. I did the best I could.” His anger tipped over into a resigned sadness. Bucky cupped your face in one hand and forced you to look up at him, “I did the best I could, baby, I really did.”
You nodded and his grip loosened so you could nuzzle into his chest again, your own tears running down your cheeks at the memory of those early days. Bucky’s shaking hands patching up your burns and cuts, the whisky you’d slugged before he pulled out a stray bullet from your arm and stitched it with floss. Every touch had been gentle though, every time he’d changed your bandages or cleaned you up, it had been gentle. It had been everything he could give you.
“We didn’t mean it like that, Buck,but we could help, get her checked over and then you can come back here.” Sam’s voice was plaintive, deliberately soothing and it made Bucky’s blood boil.
“I’m not taking her to that place.” He bit back, there was no mistaking the way he curled you into his body, tucking your head under his chin and wrapping his arms around your back.
It didn’t hurt anymore, to be touched, but then it’d never hurt to be touched by James. His hands had always been careful with you, his strength used only for protection and it was for that reason that you lay your trust in him completely.
“Don’t make me go, Alpha.” You whispered, your lips brushing the base of his neck where you’d marked him, right over his scent gland, your teeth marks an eternal brand. You nuzzled into him, your chest rumbling again.
“I won’t make you go,” he looked back at Steve and Sam, the finality of his decision sat heavily in the air.
“Can we at least bring some medical things here? Would you let Sam check you out?” Steve offered, he was increasingly concerned by the way Bucky had retreated into the chair, his own legs now curled up on the overstuffed cushion.
Above you, James nodded once, “just you and Sam, don’t tell anyone else. I’ll know if you tell anyone else.” The panic edging Bucky’s voice had Steve raising his hands in surrender.
“I promise, Buck, just Sam and I.”
Sam and Steve left the cabin at dusk while you and Bucky watched from the deck. As soon as they were beyond the trees he pulled you even tighter against his chest, his heat warm.
“Everything is going to be okay, baby, I promise, no one’s going to ever, ever, hurt you again.” His hands slid down your arms and across the slow swell of your belly. “But we should consider their offer, make sure we’re making a choice that’s good for you and me, as well as them.” His palm pushed up under your shirt, splayed on your tight skin and, deep inside, your pup pushed back.
#bucky#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x female reader#alpha bucky barnes#alpha!bucky#alpha bucky x reader#alpha bucky x omega reader#omegaverse#bucky barnes events#Alpha Bucky April
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in sickness and in health
pairing: kim seungmin x female reader
summary: you're the most important thing in seungmin's life, of course his biggest fear would be losing you. it means that taking care of you when you're not feeling well comes naturally.
word count: 2.1k
warnings: a little bit of angst, sickness (fever, feeling nauseous, etc.)
a/n: partially inspired by me being ill at work and my amazing coworkers taking care of me and making sure i didn't faint lol.
till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist
Seungmin loves being an idol.
He loves to sing and performing in front of Stays always thrills him. He loves the other members and really, everyone else that he gets a chance to work with. At times it can be stressful, but for the most part, it’s fairly easy to manage the downsides of being famous.
But when he started dating you, he found out that there are parts of being an idol that he hates.
He always thought that he'd be different from a lot of idols and wouldn't be afraid to show his partner off. The second he met you though, he knew he'd do anything and everything in his power to keep you safe. You understand, of course, and do your part to make sure that only your closest friends and family are aware of who you're dating.
It pains Seungmin to do this, but he knows nothing good can come out of your identity being known.
The two of you are more than careful, sometimes Seungmin feels silly with how cautious he is about meeting up with you. Yet somehow his heart always feels like it will beat out of his chest whenever he sees articles that speculate about idol relationships.
You do your best to stop him from stressing, but it’s something that Seungmin can't quite shake. You're the most important thing in his life, of course his biggest fear would be losing you.
—
The first time his phone rings during a livestream with the whole group, Seungmin brushes it off. The caller ID says it's an unknown number and everyone he knows has been receiving a lot of spam calls and texts lately.
He swipes away the notification and tries to focus on just reading comments when the same number calls back, a couple minutes later. He ignores it again, but on the third call, he nudges Chan’s knee beside him and subtly tilts his phone screen so that Chan can see. His phone is on silent so nobody watching the live should be able to tell that he's getting the calls, but the timing feels too coincidental for him not to be suspicious.
"They keep calling," he says under his breath.
"We'll get someone to look into the number later, just keep ignoring it," Chan advises quietly.
Seungmin takes a quick screenshot of the number, then tries to get back into the conversation to distract himself. The next time he looks down at his phone again, someone is once again calling him.
Seungmin almost reflexively rejects the call, until he realises it's your nickname flashing up on his screen.
You generally don’t call Seungmin without warning, especially not during the day when there’s a higher chance that Seungmin won’t be able to readily answer.
[sent - 3:12 pm]
sorry baby, working right now, can it wait?
His stomach drops when you just call again in response. He doesn’t want to alarm any of the members or the fans when he doesn’t know what’s going on, but he has a bad feeling about this. He once again flashes his phone to Chan briefly and leans in close.
“I want to take this, I don’t know why she’s calling, but something doesn’t seem right.”
Chan bites his lip, obviously torn for a second, before he seems to make up his mind.
“We’ve been live for almost 20 minutes, give me one second and we’ll end it so that you can talk to her, yeah?” Chan puts a hand on Seungmin’s shoulder and squeezes it tightly for a moment before clapping his hands together, effectively ending the conversation that the rest of the members were having.
Seungmin makes himself smile as they all say goodbye, but it's obvious that it's forced.
Even though the live ended as quickly as possible, Seungmin still has 2 new missed calls by the time he’s found himself an empty room to use.
"Hello?"
"Uhm hello, is this Min?" a man asks hesitantly. His voice is unfamiliar and it scares Seungmin. The only thing that brings a little bit of comfort is knowing that you’re careful to never call Seungmin by his full name when talking about him with friends or coworkers, you even have his contact information set as a nickname.
"Who is this?" he asks instead. “Where’s Y/n?”
"My name is Hyunwoo, I work with Y/n-ssi. I’m very sorry for interrupting you, but Y/n-ssi said that you were one of her emergency contacts. We tried to call with another number previously, but weren’t able to reach you."
“Sorry, I generally do not answer calls from unknown numbers. Is Y/n okay?” Seungmin swallows hard, his mouth suddenly dry. “Can I- can I please speak to her?”
“She’s just not feeling well and needs to go home. She’s resting in another room, but I can get her, one moment please.”
There’s a bit of background noise, the sound of footsteps, murmuring, then finally, your voice.
“Minnie?” you ask, sounding groggy. “I’m sorry for bothering you, I know you were working today.”
“Hey baby, it’s okay. You don't have to worry about me. You know that you’re more important than work to me right? I’m glad you got them to call me. How are you doing?”
“I'm tired. I'm okay, just, I was feeling light-headed and have a headache so I can't work. Hyunwoo said he thinks I have a fever.”
“Okay, I’m going to pick you up and bring you home then. Just continue resting until I get there. I'll see you soon.”
Seungmin doesn’t know what he’d do without the other members. As soon as he finishes explaining the situation to them, they’re already calling a car and working out schedules so that there aren’t any problems.
—
Hyunwoo eyes Seungmin carefully when they first meet, likely due to the face mask and hat he's wearing. When Seungmin removes the mask and shakes Hyunwoo’s hand, he's relieved when he doesn't appear to recognise him. It's not exactly a surprise, men are generally less likely to follow k-pop groups and Seungmin hardly looks like an idol when he's barefaced and in the jeans and t-shirt that he wore for the live.
“Thank you for calling me, Hyunwoo-ssi,” Seungmin says. “Sorry I didn’t pick up at first.”
“It’s okay, Min-ssi. Y/n-ssi mentioned that your work might make you difficult to contact.” Seungmin appreciates that Hyunwoo doesn’t make any attempt to pry further.
“And thank you for taking care of Y/n.”
“It’s not a problem. Y/n-ssi is a pleasure to work with and we all want her to get better as quickly as possible. Come with me, I’ll bring you to her.”
You’re lying in a small meeting room that has all the lights off and blinds drawn. The table and chairs have all been shifted to the side to fit a yoga mat that has been laid out. You squint up at Seungmin from under a mis-match of jackets with your head resting on a pillow that matches the couches that were in the reception area of your office.
“Minnie?” Your voice is soft and a little bit confused.
“Yes, it’s me, Y/n. How’re you feeling?”
Seungmin rushes to your side, crouching on the carpet so that he can cup your cheek. Your skin is flushed and hot to the touch. You reach out a hand and he clasps it tightly with his free hand.
“Mm, I wanna go home.”
“Let’s go home then.”
The company car is still parked outside of your office building, close enough that you insist on walking yourself. Seungmin tries not to hover, but he makes sure to keep his arm looped around your waist so that you don’t stumble. The drive back to your place is fairly short, but when Seungmin glances over you’re looking unwell. Maybe it’s just the dim lighting from the backseat, but you look paler than usual and your eyes are closed.
“You feeling okay?” Seungmin asks, squeezing your hand.
“A bit nauseous,” you murmur.
“We’re almost there, just take a few deep breaths through your nose for me.”
Even though it's only a few minutes before they pull onto the street that you live on, it feels like forever. Seungmmin tries to keep you preoccupied by rubbing circles into your palm. Instead of trying to help you out of the car and into your apartment, Seungmin thanks the company driver and opts to just carry you all the way in.
He helps to change you out of your work clothes and tucks you into your bed. You link your fingers together and protest when Seungmin attempts to leave your side.
“I promise I'll be back in a second, I just want to get some things to help you feel better, okay?” he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You agree, but reluctantly.
Seungmin tries to stay quiet as he rummages around your apartment, gathering some medicine, a thermometer, a glass of water, and some crackers. Next he dampens a face cloth and brings everything to your bedside table, folding up the cloth and laying it across your forehead.
He supports you in sitting up slightly to take your temperature, brushing his fingers through your hair as you wait for enough time to pass. You lean into his touch slightly, humming in pleasure when Seungmin switches to giving you a light head massage. When the thermometer beeps, it confirms what Hyunwoo suspected, you have a low grade fever.
“You have a bit of a fever,” Seungmin tells you, keeping his voice low. “Do you feel up to having some water and medicine? It'll help you feel better, I think.”
“Okay,” you say, taking the pills that Seungmin hands you and swallowing them with a bit of water.
“Do you want to rest some more now? I want you to stay hydrated so I can make broth for you or get juice.”
“Do you have another schedule? You don't have to stay and take care of me.”
“I don't have to, I want to. And what did I say earlier? Don't worry about me. I'm not missing anything important.”
“So you are missing something,” you insist, your stubbornness making itself known. Seungmin can't help but find it endearing, especially the way that your bottom lip juts out to form a pout.
“Just vocal lessons. I already know how to sing, so it’s fine. Innie had his scheduled for tomorrow, the two of us are going to swap.”
“Oh,” you say, apparently satisfied by that.
“See, nothing to worry about. Now, what did you want? Broth or juice?”
“Broth,” you decide. “But that means you'll have to leave again. I don't want to be alone.”
Seungmin hesitates for a moment before reaching for something resting on the side of your bed.
“You won't be alone, Daengmo will keep you company, okay?”
Seungmin had gifted the stuffed dog to you the first time he had gone abroad after the two of you had started dating, even though it was only to Japan. You had insisted that he keep it at first, knowing how fond he was of the toy, but he had convinced you that it would prevent you from missing him whenever he was away.
“M'kay,” you say sleepily, wrapping your arms around Daengmo.
“You can close your eyes while I'm gone and I'll be back before you know it.”
“I'm not tired,” you say, although even in the dim lighting Seungmin can see that your eyes are starting to droop. “I'm going to stay awake until you come back.”
“Whatever you say,” Seungmin replies.
He leaves your room, closing the door behind him quietly, and heads towards the kitchen.
Seungmin prepares a couple of pots to make you soup. The first he prepares with some ingredients to make a simpler version of a ginseng chicken soup. He knows it'll take a while to cook though, so he adds water, powdered chicken broth, and ginger to the second. Within a few minutes, the clear broth is ready to serve.
Seungmin scoops a portion of it into a mug and slips an ice cube in so that you won't burn your mouth trying to drink it. He makes his way back to your room as quickly as he can, but careful to avoid the liquid sloshing over the sides.
When he eases the door open, he's greeted with the side of you with your eyes closed, clutching Daengmo tightly. Your breaths are deep and even, although you stir slightly when he sets the mug down on your nightstand.
“I'm here now," he reassures you quietly. “You just keep resting.”
“Thank you for taking care of me,” you say in a small voice.
“Of course, I’ll always be here for you.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist
#in sickness and in health#till death do us part collection#chahnniesroom#skz fanfic#skz fluff#skz angst#skz fic#skz x reader#stray kids fluff#stray kids fanfic#stray kids x reader#stray kids x y/n#stray kids x you#stray kids x female reader#kim seungmin x you#seungmin x you#kim seungmin x reader#seungmin x reader#seungmin fluff#seungmin angst#skz imagines#stray kids#seungmin#kim seungmin
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because i woke up today still thinking of zosan's baby girl, here are some stuff about it that are now my roman empire:
none. i repeat NONE OF THESE STRAW HATS know how to hold a baby. sanji figured it out due to dormant maternal instincts alone. and more than half the time he has to yell at everyone to not hold her up by the calf or the ankles ("i'm looking at you luffy please for the love of the all blue do NOT gum gum whip her around like a toy—")
unlike both her dads, ayari is actually being extremely picky with food in the beginning. she hates certain textures and cries like its the end of the world when her baby food isn't heated to the right temperature. funnily enough, one of the few times she ate something she didn't want is if chopper is next to her eating the same thing and telling her its yummy. dw none of the baby food goes to waste. they're all re-used somehow in the week's menu. or zoro just ends up eating it.
ussop made a lil wrap around cloth for ayari so that sanji could cook while carrying her hands free. or zoro could have her strapped onto his back and nap while he does pushups.
robin could be seen reading books to ayari when both zoro and sanji are out cold and exhausted from being first time parents. one or both of them would wake up to find robin telling little ayari histories of the islands they visit, or the countries they've saved. she tones down some of the darker elements until she's old enough to grasp it. ayari grows up with auntie robin's love of wanting to know the world.
nami started doing her makeup with ayari on her lap. she shows all the different little products to her, letting her touch her brushes and everything. nami even "does ayari's makeup" too aka she just tickles her face with the brushes and pretends to put makeup on her so she feels like she's doing it too. when she's a little older, ayari asks sanji to join them and more often than not, sanji is making lunch with a full face of makeup done by ayari.
ayari's teething toy is a little plastic mouth sword. zoro is infinitely happy about it.
in the beginning, sanji tried to take up most of the parental responsibilities up until the point that he got too sick to even stand. he was stressed and exhausted beyond belief, actually pushing zoro away a lot. but when he collapses one day sporting a fever that was highly too reminiscent of when nami was sick after little garden, it scares him enough to finally seek zoro out for help.
and its not like zoro has not Tried to take the load off. its just that sanji was still fighting all his repressed feelings for zoro and this undue pressure hes put on himself to become a better parent than judge ever was to him. that he could raise this child with love and attention and devotion, completely forgetting that hes not the only parent.
zoro and sanji have a heartfelt talk about how the wish that was granted on that island was a blessing beyond belief. that theres a reason ayari looks like both of them. that she takes after both of them.
they both wished for this child in the deepest depths of their hearts. they wanted not just to be together but to have someone that grows up loved by them. cared for by them. not a restart or a replacement for a lost loved one like they first thought it was. but a child who sees them — zoro and sanji — and will one day wish to have a love like theirs.
oh also "luffy" is ayari's first word because zoro and sanji say it so often to stop their captain from doing dangerous shit while he's holding her. in line with that, her second word is "stop" so the first sentence she ever says is "luffy stop!"
the crew are hysterical over it. sanji stares into the void bc he wished for ayari's first word to be "dada"
he settles with the little joy of her fourth word being "marimo"
because her third word was "curly" (something he nearly strangled zoro for)
#niki's fics: she has your eyes#zosan#one piece#sanji#roronoa zoro#oc: roronoa ayari#ussop#nami#nico robin#monkey d luffy
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absolutely fascinated by young dee who is criminally under-discussed so here is my dissertation on what happened in her college years (ft. dr. gainer, setting her roommate on fire, being institutionalized)/my idea for a fic that I will almost certainly never write/my way too serious take on a few throwaway dee lore lines
timeline background: we know that dee majored in psychology ('charlie got molested') and got "three fourths" of the way in (meanwhile dennis finished his psych minor.) assuming this was a four year program, I'm gonna guess that in her third year she got institutionalized and most likely had to drop out ('gun fever too: still hot'.) we also know that she had her back brace until she was twenty ('underage drinking'), so I'm guessing that means she got her back brace off in her third year.
we know that dennis fancied himself a psychologist since he was young, but I think dee did too. in particular I think she was wary and interested in her brother's psychology; she seems very aware of his psychopathy and bpd in 'making dennis reynolds a murderer' and 'psycho pete returns.' in my head she's been interested in dennis' psychology since they were kids and she saw him snapping crows necks. so instead of forcing her way into acting school, she studied psychology to better understand her brother (and also deep down, herself, who is very much the other side of the same fucked up coin.) it also meant she could tell herself she could study her characters even better when she became an actress.
i think she put in (her version of) genuine academic effort to get in, fuelled kind of by spite (remember the way she studied that thick medical book in 'hero or hate crime' or her very quick math in 'boggs: ladies reboot'). she studies books and gets cricket to quiz her and she still fails to get into penn. but frank always pitied her (i think she was his favorite of the twins-remember "let your sister into the gang", "that's my girl!", "i'm sorry the grift didn't work out, sweetie") so he shells out cash to get her in, but also to get her away from home so he has to deal with her even less.
dennis wants to do anything dee does but better and he wants to keep her close by (to watch her crash and burn, and also because he's weirdly possessive-see 'the gang broke dee' "i'm your select!"). and obviously he's barbara's favorite. so barbara gives him money to get in too. she also gets him into a frat and pays for his classes and his rent and everything he needs. dee has to live in a dumpy dorm with a female roommate.
but college presents dee a chance to moult her previous place in life where she was known as a monster (remember how insistent she was that "people can change!" in 'franks pretty woman'. I think dees always wanted to believe she can shed that feeling she's inferior, but she never has). in my head her female roommate is basically normal-has real friends of her own, mentally stable, attractive-which is exactly what dee craves. dee wants to be popular and well liked and she wants to infiltrate her roommates life, imitate her, be in the Cool group. and she places all her hopes on a friendship with the roommate but dee has never navigated real female friendships before, not with someone like her. deep down she also wishes she found what dennis found in mac, whatever it was, because ever since dennis met mac he's never been as close to her. and i do think dee is some flavor of queer. and the roommate is well liked in the way that dee admires and envies. so there is that blurriness between wanting to be her and wanting to be with her. in my head her roommate looks like the woman from dee's fantasy in 'the gang saves the day' (and they both represent that promise of escape from dee's shitty life).
dee is so desperate for the roommates approval and her love and her life that she goes insane, copying and flattering and competing with her. ever the shitty actress, she tries to emulate her, but comes off as manic and creepy. and maybe her roommate is nice enough to not completely shun her, recognizing that she's struggling. maybe in dees mind they actually are becoming friends when her roommate asks things like "are you okay?"
and dee has to talk about her plan with dennis because he's the only person who would Get It. and she makes it sound like it's almost working. dennis feels jealous and worried and threatened that maybe dee might actually be seen as normal, especially when she gets her back brace off in the third year. so dennis fucks her roommate, more of a show that he owns and controls each and every pathetic part of dee’s life than anything else. and so that dee knows she'll never be as good as him, she'll never as easily charm people as dennis does. (or at least he tells her he does).
to prove that To Someone dee is Good Enough, and so desperate for attention, dee (who's been groomed all this time) enters a sexual relationship with her professor dr. gainer. she tells herself she has the power in it, that she seduced him ("he didn't molest me. i had sex with him 'cause i wanted to.") and she has a mental break, because the thing she told herself held her back from being loved (her back brace) is finally gone by now and yet she still feels like a monster, and the only scrap of "love" she can get is from her professor.
and then she can't take the fact that she can steal her roommates clothes, can emulate her sexual prowess (in dee's own fucked up, delusional way), and still neither be well liked like her nor be loved by her. so maybe dee will always be a monster. so dee tried to burn her roommate in her bed, because she represented the promise of change and popularity, and that promise was a lie and dee's effort was for nothing. and she's institutionalized.
and i think there was kind of a falling out between the twins and their parents, because barbara wants to abandon dee but dennis can't help but visit her. and frank doesn't even step foot in a place that reminds him of his traumatic childhood, and avoids dee even more than he used to because she is his childhood mirror image. so the family becomes even more fractured and estranged.
and maybe dee becomes medicated and slowly crawls her way halfway to normal by the first season (her acting classes are so well-adjusted, taking part in healthy hobbies of her!). until her father comes back into her life and everything falls apart <3
side note, even though dee is crushingly lonely-"I just got a cat 'cause I wanted something to hang out with. I don't have, you know, a roommate or anything, and I don't really have anyone to talk to..."-AND she struggles to pay rent whenever frank cuts her off, i hc that she refused to ever get a roommate in particular female roommate again after this because both her internalized misogyny got worse and she was afraid of what would happen (what she would do) again.
#THIS IS FOR THOSE WITH THE DEE BRAIN ROT WHO SEES HER AS A SHAKESPEAREAN TRAGIC HEROINE WHO JUST WANTS TO BE THE BELOVED COMEDIC RELIEF#also no way in HELL dee was genuinely ever like nice roller rink ep dee. in my head that was the guys absolving themselves for turning dee#even more traumatized and isolated and jaded thru their treatment of her. bc it was obviously a freak accident shes Like That right#(in the sense of like unreliable narrator/faulty memory/lack of any care or attention given to dees life)#dee reynolds#iasip#iasip headcanons#nina.rambles#posts with an audience of me myself and i#tw grooming#tw mental illness#not sure how to tag this!#to me she is the main character.#dennis reynolds#bc there is heavy mention of him too#trash twins#frank reynolds#barbara reynolds
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Hii~ it's me again.
You said The Athlete has siblings right? How is he with them? Or just generally with his family, as of current day?
Also, (with Childhood bestf Darling) what would he do if they had a crush? What if it was one of his other team members?
Nobody can convince me that the absolute black cat of a darling I have in mind would ever have a crush in a normal way.
At first, darling is crushing hard on someone, doesn't really realize it, but a certain other guy does. Then, when darling does realize, they do everything in their power to push that person away and I imagine he's right there, on calls with them late at night as they complain about their crush, because-
"he's horrible, right? And he doesn't even like me. Ugh. I hate him so much. He's cruel, and selfish, and arrogant, who'd like a guy like that?"
Insert our boy with the sweetest, "Of course, pumpkin. He's horrible, you know what he did last summer..." (Cue him telling darling about the most atrocious thing darling's crush ever did.)
- 💗 (Making an OC to ship with him is not a want, it is a need. Also, I absolutely love your writing style. The way you slip from third person writing to first person dialogue is really cool.)
𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥
𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗦𝗶𝗰𝗸!𝗔𝘁𝗵𝗹𝗲𝘁𝗲 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿
"When I looked into his eyes, I knew he was the one."
Trigger Warnings; bad writing, spelling errors, vague baby trapping, reader can get pregnant, both yandere and reader have baby fever (self-insert lol), reader and yandere are 18+, descriptions of sex, sex is brought up, talking about yandere's bad childhood, yandere is a lovesick fool, 18+
If I missed anything, then please let me know ♡
I'm splitting this ask into two different things 'cause it's easier on my tiny brain (I also think they're two completely different asks, so yeah). Also, my writing style (where I slip into thrid person) is inspired by @depravitycentral's writing, their literally so good, please go read it:)))
Okay, okay, so let me tell you about LoveSick!Athlete and his childhood, more so his siblings. LoveSick!Athlete is the oldest, though he does have an older half-brother. He's not too close to him, and he was never around. This means, that in the family dynamic, LoveSick!Athlete was the oldest.
Now, after him, he has a little sister, who he is very, very, very close to. Her name is Nayda and she's only a year or two younger than him, they have the same dad, who is a complete scumbag btw.
After Nayda and LoveSick!Athlete there's the twins, who are only two years old. They have a different dad from Nayda and LoveSick!Athlete. They're interracial babies (meaning they're a mix of black and white, in this situation), and this has caused a whole bunch of issues for LoveSick!Athlete and his mama. Especially since where he's from, people aren't the most accepting of interracial couples. There have been far too many times when these old ladies will make too many assumptions with their grabby-ass hands, leading to a whole assortment of problems.
LoveSick!Athlete is close with his family and he feels very protective over them, particularly toward his mama and sister. This is partially because they're women and he has a, slightly, closeminded view of women. He sees them as something he needs to protect. He was raised to never, ever hit a girl, ever. That was seen as unacceptable and it was something his mama would be pissed over.
However, this doesn't mean that he thinks women shouldn't work or anything, it's just that he feels an instinctual need to protect women, even if they can handle themselves. This stems from his unstable childhood; how he would see his mama struggle, both financially and romantically. Because she was the only woman he ever really interacted with, rather than his sister, he grew this instinctual, primal even, need to protect women based on his experiences of watching his mama.
Then there's the twins, Bijan and Abbas, who LoveSick!Athlete isn't too close with. Of course, when he's home for holidays, he always, always helps his mama and stepdad with taking care of the unruly toddlers. He enjoys taking care of them, but he doesn't really see them as his siblings, seeing as he was already out of the house by the time they were born.
Though, LoveSick!Athlete does have a good relationship with his stepdad, seeing as his stepdad is a far better man than his pa ever was. His stepdad was his mama's therapist (ooo interesting dynamic), and he really helped his mama through the filling of a restraining order process (it was against his pa). He even calls him dad, something he never did with his pa. LoveSick!Athlete's mama always makes them have "bro-time", as she calls it. She wants her two favorite boys to get along, and it warms her heart every time she sees them sharing a moment, usually, it's a conversation relating to her.
LoveSick!Athlete respects his stepdad as both a man and a person; he believes that he'll take good care of his mama when he isn't there, which is his top priority. He wants his mama to have a stable life, for her to get out of the projects, and have a nice home. LoveSick!Athlete, no doubt, is a mama's boy and always has been. He loves his mama to death and would love for you to meet her. He thinks she'd absolutely adore you, and she does (from what she's heard about you).
Due to how many siblings, and cousins, this man has, he's very, very, very good with children. Out of all of his cousins, he's the third oldest, meaning that he had to take care of all the younger kids. He was always left giving the baby the bottle or picking the twins up from school.
It wasn't his favorite thing in the world, being a babysitter, but it never bothered him too much as he's very good with kids. Babies seem to just relax around him, giving his mama much relief. He just has this atmosphere around him that kids just seem to love.
LoveSick!Athlete likes how energetic kids can be and how they seem to have a rose-colored view of the world. Their overall optimism really brightens his day and he can't help but let his mind wander, thinking of what your children would look like. Would they have your eyes? He hopes so; he really thinks your eyes are beautiful. The way your iris shimmers under light; how he can see his reflection in your eyes. It's like he can see right through you; your every emotion is reflected in your colorful eyes. Whatever you're hiding or refusing to tell him, he can see in them.
Sometimes, LoveSick!Athlete will just sit there and stare at you, without your knowledge, of course. While you two are on a date, he'll just watch you stuff your mouth, unaware of his peering gaze. He just can't rip his eyes away from yours; he sees his future in them, your future together. You'll catch him, eventually, staring at you like a lovesick idiot. And he'll just shrug, after all, he can't deny my feelings, sweetcheeks. You're far too easy on the eyes to not stare at! Don't derive a man from a good view, yeah?
He'll smirk, leaning his cheek against the palm of his hand, and smile slyly.
He's very subtle with his little baby fever spurts. He'll periodically have moments where he'll feel this overwhelming need to breed you, to make your tummy swell with his children. He wants to make you the mother of his kids, to make you a sweet, little mama. He knows you'd be great; you'd be such a good mother, he thinks.
When the two of you are cuddling, he'll absentmindedly rub his hand up and down your midriff, letting his calloused hand trail down to right above your center. LoveSick!Athlete would hold your waist a little tighter, the thought of you all stuff with him, him, him makes him go insane.
He'll hint it to you when the two of you are going at it; your legs hiked up on his shoulders; he's plowing through you. He's never quiet when making love, as he calls it, but when the baby fever is hitting hard, he's never closing his mouth. Little gasps and pants leave his mouth, going on and on about how you're the one for him, baby. God, you'd be such a pretty mommy. Mhm- let me make you a mama, c'mon, angel, I know we're young, b-but I'll make, make it happen. Umgh- for you.
And he'll pout and whine when you refuse to let him go raw, forcing him into a condom. He'll put every excuse in the book. It's too small, 'm too gifted for this tiny rubber, babes. Just lemme go in there, I swear I'll put out(((
He won't, that was a lie, but once you get to that point, where you're all sweaty, sex is heavy in the air, and your mind is all fuzzy, you won't care. You'll forget all about that stupid condom you were so adamant about a few minutes ago. And he's so, so, so glad you did, 'cause now he can let you have all of him, and I mean all of him. The thought of you all stuffed with his cum spurs him on, causing him to tighten his hold around your, already bruised thighs, and kiss up and down your belly, his muscular form hunched over your sweaty one.
LoveSick!Athlete just wants to be a daddy :( And you won't lie, the way he dots on his younger siblings causes your heart to clench; the idea of having a family, though you're both so young, becomes more and more appealing as the days pass by. You just know he would be a good father, you can tell by how his gaze softens with he sees a woman pushing a stroller or a toddler babbling on and on about some random bird they saw.
And he knows the same thoughts are flooding your mind, and he begs you to give in to them, but you always deny it, pushing his face away from yours. You are in college, trying to pursue a career, that you haven't even started, you don't have time for a family yet, you tell him, but all he hears is that you want to have a family with him, at some point. LoveSick!Athlete just has selective hearing, I suppose, as he just grabs your shoulders and gives you an excited smile. He leans close, whispering in your ear, so you do want to have kids? Yeah? I can make it happen; I can take care of you, just wait. I can wait, just for you. We'd be such good parents, babe.
Just wait, he'll convince you, eventually. He's very persuasive, me thinks ;)
#bad writing#lovesick#obsessive love#yandere oc#yandere x reader#yandere oc x you#yandere x you#x reader#yandere male#baby fever is hitting hard#💗!𝙉𝙤𝙣𝙣𝙮#𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙘𝙠!𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙚#𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡'𝙨 𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚'𝙨#anon <3#anon request#requests are open#send requests#yandere headcanons#tw; toxic love
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Seventh
Read it on ao3 here!
“You wanna tell me what that was all about?” Steve asked, sliding the glass door shut and cutting off the noise from the rest of the party inside.
Erica stubbornly shook her head, crossing her arms and continuing to stare out into the wide open space of Steve’s backyard. Her jaw was clenched up so tight it hurt, and the concrete was cold against her legs. But she couldn’t move or go inside, because then she would have to face all the people she had just screamed at.
Steve sighed softly behind her, a familiar sound that Erica was almost immune to hearing. Almost. It still kind of hurt to hear that disappointment sent her way. Normally he was just mad at the boys or annoyed by whatever bullshit Max wanted to pull that day.
Today he was mad at Erica. Which was fair, seeing as she had just made a big fucking scene at his house.
“What happened?” Steve asked softly, lowering himself down onto the ground and sitting cross legged on her left side. His tone was gentle, coaxing, like Erica was a child with a fever who needed to take medicine, and not a young adult who was completely overreacting.
Not mad then. Worried.
Even worse.
Erica would have honestly preferred Steve was mad, because then they could both just blow off steam, and she wouldn’t be forced to explain the completely embarrassing reason she had just had an outburst.
“They kept saying I was Seven,” She grumbled, hating Steve for being so fucking easy to talk to and making her open up. Steve didn’t immediately respond the way the rest of them would have, and when Erica glanced over, she saw he was deep in thought, trying to work out exactly why that might have upset her.
That’s why they all liked talking to him. Steve always considered what was going on before making a snap decision.
“It was just teasing. You never let that get to you. Besides we all know you’re twelve, Erica, not seven,” Steve finally said, clearly not understanding what exactly had set her off.
He hadn’t heard the whole conversation.
“They weren’t saying I was seven years old. They were saying I’m seven.” Erica paused here, hoping she wouldn’t have to say anything else. But, when it was clear it still hadn’t clicked, she gave a short irritated sigh and continued, “As in the seventh. Your seventh kid,”
“Okay? Did you not like that they were saying that you were my kid? Cause I know we joke about me being mom a lot, but I know that you guys have actual-“
“No,” Erica cut him off, not even wanting Steve to start down that particular train. She bit her lip, closing her eyes and gathering up the courage to say what she actually needed to say.
“You wanted six. I’m the seventh.” Erica stated.
An uncomfortable and heavy silence stood in the air between them as Steve registered what had been said and put the dots together. Erica waited, staring at the trees and willing herself to stay where she was. It would be easier to just get up and bolt, but no doubt Steve would chase her down and make her listen to whatever mushy thing he was going to say.
“I’m gonna kill past me,” Steve groaned, burying his face in his hands and dragging his fingers down his cheeks, “Okay, first of all, that was something I said to Nancy in confidence, assuming there wasn’t eavesdropping,”
“Stupid thing to assume. It’s us,” Erica replied, needing to put some of her armor back on. This was already too raw for comfort.
“Second of all,” Steve pressed, ignoring her little interlude, “That daydream I had was for three boys and three girls. As far as I know I have three girls, so one of the boys is the extra. Let’s say Mike. Mike can be seventh,”
A giggle slipped out of her mouth without permission, and Erica pressed a hand against her mouth to hide her smile. Mike would be the one Steve would pick to be seventh in a lineup, just because they all knew how much it would irritate his stupid inflated ego.
“Third of all,” Steve started, trailing off. His voice was soft again, low and sweet.
It was the same voice he had when he spoke to her in the hospital after the gates closed, when she had been sitting alone in the emergency room waiting for someone to show up. Steve had taken both of Erica’s hands in his own, neither of them fully able to ignore the blood sticking to their palms, and he told her everything was going to be okay.
And everything was okay now. She was the one having a problem that wasn’t actually a problem in the first place.
“Erica, I had that daydream when I was your age. My parents had just started leaving, going on business trips for days or weeks sometime. And I, well, I was lonely,” Steve admitted. Now it was his turn to stare at the trees, a muted but deeply set pain sitting in every word.
“I told myself when I got older that I wasn’t going to do that. I came up with this whole fantasy where things were going to get better, so I could focus on that instead of how shitty things were then”
Erica wanted to respond, wanted to say something, but she couldn’t get her mouth to open. She could see a young Steve sitting right where they were now, on the concrete by the pool. That Steve didn’t have someone to come out and check on him, someone to reassure him that he was loved and cared for.
He had just had to deal with it all alone, and dream that maybe life had something better in store for him somewhere down the line.
“So, if you think about it logically, that twelve year old kid who only ever wanted a big family who loved him just as he was got exactly what he was looking for,” Steve said, scooting a bit closer and wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
Erica went easily, letting herself get wrapped up in a warm hug. Steve hugs, the best kind, cure for any and all problems. She would never say that out loud to him, she’d die of embarrassment, but thinking it was enough to make her bury her face against his chest.
“And getting to have a seventh kid that was his- a really special, really funny, kinda a smartass, but genuinely good, kid,” Steve said after a moment, pulling away just enough so that he could make sure she was looking him in the eye, “Well I think that twelve year old would know how crazy fucking lucky he was to get to love that seventh kid,”
A blooming warmth settled in Erica’s chest, slowly overtaking her body until she felt like she might be glowing. She knew that Steve loved her. That was obvious. Steve loved all of them. But knowing it and hearing it were two different things.
“Wow…..that’s a lot of nice things to say about Mike,” She said, falling back into herself and leaving the safe little cocoon they had created. She didn’t need it anymore, she had her reassurances.
“Mike?” Steve asked, not putting things together. Erica huffed out a soft laugh, grinning like the cheshire cat as she stood up and stretched.
“Yeah, Mike,” Erica replied, “Seeing as, according to you, the seventh is Mike, not me.”
A beat of silence, and then Steve was throwing himself backwards, falling flat on his back as he tossed his hands into the air
“Why do I even bother with you brats?” He groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes.
“Because you love us,” Erica shot back, still all warm and wanting to just get to hear it again, “I’m gonna go inside now, tell him you said all that nice stuff about him,”
“Don’t even think about it,” Steve said in a warning tone. Erica hummed, rocking back and forth on her heels for a second before shrugging.
“No, I’m gonna. Bye Steve!”
He was up in the blink of an eye, taking her bait and falling hook, line, and sinker. Erica ran farther into the yard, laughing with glee as he chased her around and around.
#Steve harrington#erica sinclair#babysitter Steve harrington#babysitter steve#mom Steve harrington#mom steve#st#stranger things#stranger things 4#st drabble#st ficlet#stranger things ficlet#stranger things drabble#Liam writes#Liam speaks up#Writing(withacapitalW)
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i am BACK GODDDAMN sorry no magical girls or md omori to be seen atm 😞 i have ocs tho LMAO
listened to my heart?? and decided to draw ocs before i go absolutely insane. i mean i have three perfectly fine md ocs to work on so i might as well
i never did tell you what i had planned for asta huh
oc dump below cut that no one asked for <3
the three musketeers of my account HDJEHDHS
allow me to introduce them properly, i guess?¿ they each have their own individual posts but those posts were kinda rough around the edges,,
ASTA ✨
asta is my first (disregarding older ocs) md oc i've made. she's ridiculously smart (for the most part) but is also inherently a scaredy cat. she hates change and hates the unknown, sticking to a routine that she's used to for comfort.
like doll, she doesn't have her parents anymore and they're also partly the reason she doesn't have a courage. her parents' death had killed her curious spirit. they had always been more overprotective of her, considering they had both escaped unscathed out of the cabin fever labs situation.. (070 and 072, working on that) if asked, her strongest emotion is Fear. she's allowed it to control her life so much she doesn't know what it's like to live, despite being alive. because of this, even though she had been offered a spot with the cheerleaders, she didn't take it as it would mean a deviation from her comforting routine.
of course, her routine can't last forever. life in the bunker is boring but it was safe, and that's all she needed. (going into how she would be a part of the story? in progress though) she and uzi never knew each other personally. she sat at the back of the class while uzi was towards the front. she preferred not sitting too close to her because of her, uh, personality and actions? either way, she doesn't feel safe with uzi around because of uzi's inventive mind, and her tendency to do and create dangerous things (e.g., her sick as hell railgun. and also the whole braiden thing). asta wasn't necessarily shunned, she just had a small group of friends that she preferred sticking to (until doll killed them in the days going onto the promening)
getting the absolute solver string was NOT on her to-do list, but as mentioned, routine doesn't last forever. she hated the solver string and actively tried to ignore it, but it was difficult because if fucked with her systems and caused her to crave oil (which is a whole other thing and also the point where she finally accepted that she can't keep brushing away what she doesn't want to face). did i also mention she hears the solver's voice in the back of her head, because yeah that happens.
either way, since gaining the solver's string, she is also made aware that uzi and doll both had it but didn't try to reach out for help, still strongly controlled by her fear. my plan for asta was similar to how nori was the solver's secondary host (since cyn wasn't on copper-9 at the time), she would become puppet to the absolute solver, and in turn the third official host because of how lowkey she was and doll and uzi not knowing she had the solver. naturally, asta hated the idea of becoming a pet for the solver and constantly tries to override the solver's control on her (eventually succeeding. it leads the solver to want her death because it fears that asta will take over)
this is all canon divergence ofc :3
SERIAL DESIGNATION E 🐾
my second md oc, and first and only disassembly drone oc (for now? maybe haven't decided). serial designation E (also known as E or cerberus) is the outcast of his three-drone-squad. he had once tried to fit in better with the rest of his peers but after the first attempt, decided that it was too bothersome and they didn't deserve him anyway. or, that's how he phrased it in his lonesome.
he's the laziest of the bunch and hates any extra movement, preferring to kill prey quickly than to draw it out and have fun. he only hunts when his oil levels go down to 15% and if given the choice, he would've chosen to not need to eat at all. he isolates himself and has a small space set up away from the pod and essentially, his squad.
he didn't always used to be like this though, as mentioned whenever he tried his best to fit in with the rest, he did work hard. it wasn't enough though (nothing ever is). outcasted for his strange feature of having three nanite tails instead of one, he was always made fun of and in the beginning was also nicknamed Dog by his two other squad members since he wanted so bad to feel like he was needed and important to them, to the point he would willingly have done anything for them. but that was in the past. there's no point.
as a butler in the elliot manor, he has occasionally come across J, V, N and cyn. hard not to when they hang around the young mistress so often, especially J as her personal maid.. or something. he doesn't remember too well. much like his currently disassembly drone self, he took whatever shortcut he could find back in the mansion. he isn't a good person. he wasn't good then, and certainly isn't any better now. maybe a little. back in the manor, he hated doing work. he severely lacks motivation and seriously can't find a reason that he should be bothered other than the humans could kill him, or whatever. it didn't matter, or maybe it did? he wants to live (does he?) he doesn't remember.
anyway. that life is far behind him now. his squad was sent to copper 9 by JcJenson in spaaaaaaaaace (i forgot how many A's were in the space) to clear out the worker drones of course. he's got a chunk of missing memory somewhere in his head.. somewhere dark and somewhere fleshy. probablly not important. he remembers his quad but he can't find them, only alerted that a new pod and three new disassembly drones had landed– J, V and N (where was the other one? who was the other one? someone is not missing)
the forest breathes life into the dead landscape.
how long had he been asleep for?
OCTAVIERY 🦉
the oc that y'all would be familiar with. octaviery has more posts than asta and E combined (i think). the accidentally acquired child of N and uzi somewhere within the events of cabin fever
the good, quiet child of nuzi,, if you disregard his love for 'extreme sports' (read climbing into places he doesn't belong, and eventually getting stuck like an idiot). since his parents are both verbally loud and open, he never really had to ask for anything himself because his psuedo-parents dealt with it for him, leaving him to be the only introverted person of their small family.
he grows faster than a normal drone would, and thus reaches the age of a young teenager even while uzi is still in school. (yes, he is, in fact, taller than uzi. not taller than N though)
he doesn't know his true purpose.
AND THEN I GOT LAZY TO TYPE🤞
#yukko has ocs#murder drones#murder drones fandom#md oc#murder drones original character#md ocs#nuzi fankid
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villain's theme - miguel o'hara (reupload)
production contains: black fem reader, punishment, brat tamer!miguel, edging, orgasm denial, mocking, slight degradation, mean dom!miguel, slight hints of sub drop, nicknames : daddy, miggy, brat, sweetie, baby - 734 words
producer’s notes: what was supposed to be the miggy x black cat! reader fic ended up brewing into something else (don’t worry, it’ll come in good time!) p.s. I know this is the third time I’m reuploading this please ignore as the last two got flagged😭
“stop whining or I'll pull out.”
your protests quieted down as miguel continued to plunge his cock into your drooling cunt at a feverous pace. small whimpers occasionally left your mouth as he hiked your thick legs onto his broad shoulders, fastening his thrusts into you which sent pleasurable chills up and down your spine.
every time you were close to cumming, it was violently ripped away from you with quickness. tears continued to fall from your wide brown eyes as miguel maintained a torturous pace while pressing the tip of his cock directly on the spot that made you see stars, black mascara staining the brown skin of your cheeks.
you whimpered out a “please.” which gained miguel’s attention. “hm? what was that sweetie?” he said mockingly, using one hand to reach down and swipe his thumb against your swollen and throbbing clit. “please miggy,” you sobbed. “need to cum, please...it hurts.” you were desperate for release after being denied so many times it was hard to keep track. “please daddy.” you sniffle, words becoming slurred.
“aw..you really think you should cum?” he sneered, slowing his pace to deepen his thrusts which made you mewl. “after all the tantrums you threw today? you should be lucky I’m putting my dick inside you.” you tried grinding your shaking hips against him to quicken the pace again but was met with a harsh slap to your thighs, gaining a yelp out of you. “you bein’ mean,” you cried pathetically. you hate to sound so pitiful, but with how heightened you were with pleasure, that’s all you could muster up to say. “aw..is daddy hurting the dumb little brat’s feelings? the same little brat that’s been catching attitude with him all day and stomping her feet like she’s in charge?” miguel cooed, mocking how whiney you sound and pouted his lips like yours were currently. “soy un hombre tan malo, ¿no es así bebé?” his thrusts began to quicken again, he chuckled darkly as he watch your body convulse underneath him. he would’ve let you cum hours ago even though he was punishing you for bad behavior, but he was feeling rather sadistic tonight and decided to indulge in his inner villain.
he groaned and in took a sharp breath at the feeling of your warm gummy walls tightening around his cock, almost making him regret having to strip you and himself away from orgasm. key word: almost. the second he felt you were about to cum, his thrusts stopped. his fingers teasingly run up the sides of your soft, trembling belly as you silently mourned another lost chance of release. without a word, he pulled out of you with a shaky breath. he admired how your pussy was in his wake: lips soaked with arousal, clit swollen from the constant abuse of his thumb, and your tight wet hole twitching and clenching on nothing but air.
“get on your knees.” he says softly, helping you sit up on the bed before laying on his back. you shakily got into position, hands on his thighs for support as you eyed his cock which stood erect in your view. it was shiny from your arousal and precum was dripping from the tip which made you salivate. “I want to cum down that pretty little throat of yours,” he began, his hand brushed your faux locks gently away from covering your face. “and if you suck me good...maybe I’ll let you cum.” he almost laughed at how automatically your eyes lit up but swatted your hands away when you gone to reach for his shaft. “don’t get your hopes up. you’re still on punishment for the shit you pulled today,” at that you pouted, you had the urge to protest but from the last few hours you knew that wouldn’t end well. “instead of pouting like a brat, get to sucking.” he comments impatiently. taking his thick shaft into her hands, you opened your quivering mouth and wrapped your wet lips around him, slowly taking him inside your mouth inch by inch. miguel groaned at the contact of your warm mouth on his sensitive cock and fought the urge to fuck up into your mouth, wanting to savor this moment and give you a small break.
taking his thumb to wipe the tears and mascara that stained your pretty brown skin, he cooed. “still think I'm a bad man, sweetie?”
translation:
I’m such a bad man, aren’t I baby?
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So! Everything I’ve learned about spooders is from my aunt Angie, and Exotic Lair on YouTube and now I’m talking about Idia!
Spiders rub their thorax with their legs to kick their little hairs at predators or enemies, they actually get irritated really quickly (no I personally haven’t had kicked hairs in my arms, but my Auntie has and we had to drive her to the hospital cause the topical ointments were causing an allergic reaction) so all I’m picturing is if you scare Idia, and his back to you he kicks his hairs at you. Make sure to knock before entering his room! Nobody makes this mistake twice…
Some tarantelas keep small frogs in a symbiotic relationship where the frog protects the spiders eggs, and the spider protects the frog, so honestly…Ortho is a frog boy. Maybe not a full frog boy but like he wears froggy outfits. He has a bucket hat with the frog eyes, and everything!
Spiders use their webs as an extended sense of touch, so as much as I want to say Idia uses his webbing for wiring and electronics, I’m worried he would electrocute himself…he probably does periodically and you and Ortho yell at him to STOP! This is the third time!
Spiders HATE blowing air and wind, so he uses it as an excuse to avoid the outdoors. « It’s so windy out though! » it actually can cause overstimulation for them, and they can get sick from too much wind! So windy days I bet he gets a bit of a fever every time. His little hairs also shake to try and calm down. He looks like he’s vibrating
So there are burrowing spiders (which are the ones I know about) and arborils (or the tree livers…) and since he prefers the indoors, he would be a burrower! Also cause then I can talk about him! Also cause he would prefer the dark, damp, and he would totally burrow into his blanket fort, and his super fluffy hoodie!
After he molts he’s SUPER pretty, as all spiders are! They’re so vibrant and bright blue. I bet Idia would be a cobalt blue tarantula, and if Ortho is a spider, I bet he would be a rose hair. Rose hairs are best for beginners, as they’re pretty docile, and just live and let live, while cobalts choose violence more often. Rose hairs also choose violence, but more as a last resort. Both kick hairs, but cobalts also bite…
So spiders teeth are actually like straws (if I’m remembering correctly) so just picture him crunching a soda can and he sucks it all down! Just a SHLURP, and he’s hydrated! But I bet he still likes the crunch of chips. (Weird asmr too look for is tarantula feeding! Don’t watch if you have a weak stomach)
Spiders don’t have bones and use more of a hydrolic system to move, with their heart pushing blood into each leg to move forward then pull it back. So I say Idia has very few bones, or none, and his human torso is highly flexible. Without his exo he would be very bendy.
Spiders have retractable claws AND PAW PADS! They only have two of each on each food, so 16 paw pads to squish! But spider pads are different from other animals, as they have tiny hairs that help them stick to things and climb. (Once scientists found web residue in spider foot prints so they were like « they stick by excreting webbing from their feet! » and another groupe was like « bet, there is webbing everywhere! How do you know they’re not trailing it like toilet paper?» and covered a spiders butt with wax to keep the environment more clean, and there was no webbing there! I love science beef) his little feet’s are still probably sticky from webbing, so use a baby wipe or something to clean him up.
Males leave their burrows to go try and see if someone wants to mate (I’m not going into how they have to carry their little sperm web bag with them, because yes they have to take the sperm and put it into basically a little bag to put in the female!) so only when he’s actually interested does he start to leave his room for you! He helps clean up ramshackle I bet! Or uses robots to help clean it…
Different breeds have different mating styles, but the peacock spider does a little dance, shaking his butt around and he’s like « please, please, please, please plea-« or they also tap a little pattern on the females webbing to see if she’s willing,
Spiders don’t have genders until I think their third molt, and that’s just a free fun fact!
So many cute and interesting things.
I think of Ortho being a dif creature from his brother. Maybe cuz of their parents are dif creatures with one being a spider and the others something else or current or past ortho was a spider but always wanted to be something different so Idia decided to be a cool bro and make him a body that lets him be whatever he wants.
So, imagine he has all these diff creature bods. Dog, bunny, frog, bee, spooder, and whatever else.
Part of me thinks Idia helping to clean would just him picking you up under the arms like a cat and lifting you to reach things which would be so funny to see.
It would be cute if Yuu kept baby wipes with them and helped Idia keep those spider feeties clean when he needs it.
It would be pretty freaking cool Seeing Idia do the soda can thing, i feel like he would try not to do it around you at first but forgets but then you act all impressed and tell him it's cool and he's flustered.
Poor Idia on those windy days. Makes me think of that orange cat that hates the beach cuz it was windy.
He makes that face whenever it gets windy.
Hmmm the hairs though...in this AU I think of the hairs he has being soft of fluffy baby they get stiff when scared so he can do that thing, or it becomes that way cuz magic.
....I'm just picturing him doing his scared yelling while doing it and I can't stop laughing. It's just such a silly mental image and I love it.
Thank you for all the information and Ideas, I love them.
#twisted wonderland#twst#ask#asks#nonhuman au#idia shroud#twst idia#twisted wonderland idia#disney twisted wonderland
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more qpr fluffy squishy platonic writing prompts! wahoo!! part two!!! :)
Same disclaimer applies as my first post - these are aro- and ace-spec centric, may only work for shortform fiction, and feel free to tweak them to be less specific/more specific to specific characters.
Specific is a weird word lol
Anyways…
“We both get caught out in the rain and wait out the weather under the same shelter, and either we’re meeting for the first time or we have a nice excuse to hang out together” AU
“You annotate a book for me and I annotate it right back for you, and we keep passing the book back and forth until its a mess of affectionate scribbles that we keep on the coffee table” AU
"It's hot outside and you love the heat but I hate it and you're being stupidly nice and sweet to me while I'm a grouchy mess" AU
"I can teach you how to play this instrument if you stop DISTRACTING ME by looking so ENDEARING AND INFATUATED" AU
"Keep Talking And Nobody Explodes" AU
"We're both too tired to take care of ourselves because of sickness/work/school/whatever but we immediately find the energy to take care of one another via making tea and grabbing blankets" AU
"We trade clothes for Halloween and do terrible impersonations of one another" AU
"We have a bunch of unfinished craft projects between the two of us and decide to just... finish them all in one day... 24 itty-bitty hours... oh boy..." AU
"We recreate a terrible low-budget movie together" AU
"On Valentine's Day, we decide to make a bunch of garlic bread and cake, and buy each other flowers in the colours of our respective aro-/ace-spec flags... and then the day after, we buy all the chocolate that's finally gone on sale" AU
“I teach you how to do make-up because for one reason or another you’re unfamiliar with it” AU
“Fake dating and having dramatic break ups over silly things in public for shits and giggles” AU
“So, the world might have just ended… so guess who has two thumbs and a bunker that desperately could use a roommate?” AU
“We’re made to play seven minutes in heaven at a party and after a few awkward minutes of silence we both decide to just order a pizza or something while we wait out the seven minutes” AU
“Hey, you can dance, and I can’t, teach me— no, I don’t care that I’ve got two left feet, teach me!” AU
“We’re both artists, maybe of different skill levels, and we decide to draw/paint/make art of each other” AU
“I’m a night owl and you’re more of a day person, so whenever we stop texting because you have to go to bed, I’m stuck laying awake thinking about you Please Enjoy Waking Up To A Bunch Of Messages” AU
“I’m a day person and you’re more of a night owl but I struggle to fall asleep because I’m stuck thinking about how lucky I am to be your friend Hey I Think I Could Stay Up For An Extra Ten Minutes” AU
“We’re both nervous about going to the gym alone so we try going together… but neither of us have the guts to get out of the car so we just go for a walk or something instead” AU
“You’re super into sports and exercise and I’m just getting into it but you hype me up so I’m less nervous about getting started” AU
“I bake a whole bunch, you cook big meals… at the same time of day - our kitchen is chaos” AU
“It’s New Year’s Eve and we’re hanging out at a party and everyone’s speculating that we’re gonna have our New Year’s Kiss together but the New Year comes and we just do a weird handshake” AU
“Non-Fatal Hanahaki Disease AU where we’re some of the few people who don’t experience it because we’re content with whatever non-romantic thing we have together… but we both have hay fever and are very annoyed by the constant barrage of flower petals around us and have to tell our friends to Please Stop Crushing On The Random Barista At Starbucks It’s The Third Time This Week You Are KILLING US” AU
“We’re both alien test subjects who’ve never met before and have to try and plan our escape - bonus points if the aliens are specifically testing for something like amatonormative like All Humans Fall In Love and we’re the black swans of the research since they apparently abducted Only Romantic Allosexuals Aside From Us Somehow” AU
“It’s midnight and you show up on my doorstep unannounced after a long while of us drifting apart, what on earth happened?” AU
“We’re both capable of granting wishes - you’re the monkey’s paw and I’m the guy who’s stuck remedying all the messed up things you have happen to people What Is Wrong With You” AU
And finally…
“I’m laying on the couch at a party drunk/high/exhausted/whatever and you’re looking after me, having only met me that night - I proceed to ramble about how embarrassed I’ll be when I’m older and think back to how I made a fool of myself in front of someone I wanted to be friends with really badly… but luckily for me, you’re flattered that I think you’re super cool” AU
#certified qwertycake moment#writing prompt#writing#au#otp prompt#imagine your otp#platonic otp prompt#brotp#aromantic#asexual#aroace#arospec#aspec#acespec#ace#qpr#qpp
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James Potter hadn't always done reasonable things in life. He had made mistakes. He had hurt people. He wasn’t always nice. And he felt ashamed of it.
As a kid, James had everything he wanted. The coolest toys, the best parents he could ask for, money, a big house with a large garden and a pool, a dog to play with, delicious food to choose from and most importantly endless love. That's what made him a bit of an asshole.
It was James's need to make friends, to make kids his age like him that made him act like a selfish twat. He bragged without noticing how others might feel. He made jokes that sometimes could hurt people's feelings. He did pranks to others that sometimes got out of hand.
For James, these things weren't wrong. He found them innocent. Just to have fun. Just to be cool. James was just a kid who wanted to have friends, be liked and have as much fun as he could.
Then James grew up and things started changing around him. He started noticing that not every kid had the luck he had. For example, Sirius, his best friend, had money and everything he wanted but horrible parents. His other friend Peter lacked of confidence because his father disappeared the moment he was born. But yet, James made those two the same way he was. It was more about forgetting about their issues while pranking, breaking the rules and having fun than actually fixing anything.
There were three things that made James open his eyes.
The first one was Remus Lupin. When he arrived, James wasn't happy. He felt threatened by how close he was of Sirius. He got a bit jealous. So he was a bit cold, even mean with Remus. It was until he found out about his past life. Remus had been made fun of, pranked and bullied by other kids his entire life for being trans. And James wondered: "Haven't I done similar things to others?"
The second one was Lily Evans and the way she had called him an arrogant bully. The way she said it wasn't like the silly insults she repeated to him after he tried to flirt with her. This time she had yelled full of rage, leaving James speechless. It had been fair since he had tried to ask her out after her father had died (although he didn't know about it at the time). James understood that the girl he fancied really hated him.
The third and more important reason happened just now, the day before New Year's when James overheard a conversation between his parents he should have never heard.
"We should not tell James for now" his father was saying "You know him. He would act as if this is serious"
"But it is serious, Monty!" Hearing his mother cry had broken his heart "We are not going to pretend you are okay because you aren't."
"Is not that I am sick, Effie. My immune system is just a bit weaker"
"Weaker? Just with a tiny fever you can actually die, Fleamont. You can bloody die and leave me alone"
The way James knew it was something awful and serious was because Euphemia cried. She was sobbing into Fleamont's chest. And Euphemia wasn't a crier. She was always strong, hiding away her emotions. So what James felt in that moment was fear. It was more like panic. Like the one he used to feel when he was little and he was afraid of the dark. His hands shook. His heart raced. He felt his skin shiver in cold.
When James returned to his room, his mind was flooding with thoughts. Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe his hearing was as bad as his sight. Maybe his parents had been exaggerating. This couldn't be right. Fleamont was the strongest man he knew. Sporty and healthy. A bloody rock if you asked him. This couldn't be right.
"So, did you ask them?" Sirius asked as soon as James crossed the door.
In James's mind that question didn't make sense. It felt wrong that Sirius looked as happy as he did after those news.
"Ha?" It was all that came out of his mouth.
"Marlene confirmed she is going to some club with her brothers" Sirius said as he texted "I thought you were asking your parents if we can go"
"Not to be rude or anything but this grown up party is boring" Peter added "Plus you like the McKinnons"
"He workships them more like. Especially Adam" Sirius added with a chuckle "Wait until you see Prongs following Adam like a lost puppy, Moony"
James wasn't even listening. For the first time he wished his friends weren't around. Or any adult that was downstairs. He wanted it to be the three of them. His parents and him. So they could discuss this. And Fleamont would tell him everything would be okay.
"Are you okay, James?" Remus asked with concern when James didn't answer.
The others noticed his expression because they stopped smiling and waited to hear the bad news. But James wasn't ready to tell them. It would make it true. He didn't even know what was going on.
"I don't... I don't think... we should... go...out" James had never spoken as slowly and low as now.
"Why not?" Peter asked "You were the one to say you were bored as an oyster"
"Shut up, Wormtail!" Sirius snapped "Did something happen, James?"
James looked at Sirius. His second in command. His best friend in the world. His brother. How could he tell Sirius?.
"Yeah!" he cleared his throat before his voice broke "I mean they said no... Fleamont and Euphemia... They want us to stay"
"What? Why?" Peter pouted.
Remus kept looking at him as if he knew everything.
James shrugged, grabbing a football from the floor.
"I'm going to kick it for a while..."
"Now? It is almost midnight" Remus reasoned. James just shrugged.
"Want us to come with you?" Sirius asked with his eyebrow raised.
"No! You stay here and finish those beers" James faked a smile to calm them down. Even if he wanted to die in the inside "I'll be right back"
"Be back before midnight!" Peter yelled as James climbed down the stairs two at the time.
James unleashed his frustration with the poor ball kicking as hard as he could, tossing it to the other side of the property and hitting it like a punch ball.
All he could think about was that his father was sick, probably dying and James was so terrible, he wouldn't make him proud. Fleamont's son was arrogant, a brag, a rebel who had been into trouble several times and probably a bully. What was there to be proud of?
"Only you would play football on New Year's in this cold night"
Fleamont had been James's role model since he could remember. He had promise to grow just like him. But he was horrible. He wasn’t the man his father was. Why wasn't James sick instead of him?
"You shouldn't be outside, Dad" James sniffed rolling the ball between his feet, eyes locked on it "It is freezing"
"Dad, is it now? Weren't you too cool to call me that? You've been calling me Fleamont or Old Man for a while now. It actually sounded weird to hear that, you little brat"
James's eyes were burning with tears at this point.
"Do I have privileges now that I am a bit sick?"
James's head turned as quickly as possible. Fleamont Potter was smiling under the moonlight. His glasses reflected the light. His hands were on his pockets. He was dressed elegantly for the party looking casual. But James noticed the bags under his eyes. Sucked cheeks. More wrinkles. Whiter hair. Skinner complexion. James saw Fleamont's illness reflected on him.
"I know you heard my conversation with your mother, James. I saw you through the door"
"Are you dying?" James was surprised how small his voice sounded.
Fleamont took a deep breath "No..."
"DON'T LIE TO ME! YOU'RE FUCKING DYING, I KNOW IT! TELL ME THE TRUTH, YOU COWARD! TELL ME THE BLOODY TRUTH"
James had spit and pushed his father in the process. That made him ashamed. Jokes aside, he had always respected his father. Now he felt terrible. So he started crying.
James felt his father's arms wrapping around him. And James hugged him back, clenching from him as if he would disappear any moment. James didn’t want to lose him. He loved him. He loved him so much. And he needed him.
"It's okay, my son. Sh sh sh. It's okay" Fleamont sighed as he stroked his son's hair gently "I'm not going anywhere"
When James calmed down, they sat on a bench and they talked about what was happening. They missed midnight and the celebration inside but James didn't care.
Fleamont explained that years ago the family's fabric used other chemicals for their products. Poisonous ones. That many workers ended up dying. This changed with time and The Potters discovered other chemical-free ingredients to continue producing. But Fleamont had visited the fabric back then plenty of times when he was younger. And the exposure to those chemicals had damaged his blood and immune system.
"So, you're okay?"
"Doctors said I need to have a healthier life" Fleamont explained "That knowing your mother, she will follow rigorously..." he snorted "But I am not precisely sick. I need to slow down a bit. Take care of myself. Try not to get sick. Because any kind of problem would be dreadful to my organism"
James nodded, now feeling better "If you don't follow the doctor's orders, I'll kill you myself, Old Man"
Which made Fleamont laugh.
"No Dad anymore?"
"You bloody scared me, Fleamont"
The man just responded with a smile and a soft pat on James's shoulder. Though James was still sad and very very scared.
"Do Granpa and Nonna know?"
Fleamont shook his head "Not yet"
"Maikee? The guys from the fabric?"
"Only your mother besides you and me"
"But you didn't want to tell me"
"Because you're just as exaggerated as your mother. Even worse"
"Watch it! Old Man" James pointed a finger at him.
Fleamont let out a soft giggle.
"Should I tell Sirius?" James twisted his mouth thinking about Sirius’s reaction.
"I think we will find the right time to tell him. The three of us. Okay?"
James nodded in response. He was still restless. He was still scared of his father being so vulnerable and fragile.
"Dad..." James said carefully which made Fleamont smile "Are you proud of me?"
Fleamont opened his mouth but James continued before him.
"I'm... I'm not a good person" James said "I've been kind of a twat with a lot of people. I've been mean. I've been selfish. And I haven't been the most obedient son... I've driven you and mum mental many times" James shook his head "I am awful. You don't deserve me"
"I am very proud of you, James" Fleamont answered with a soft smile. James was surprised that he sounded genuine.
"Didn't you hear..."
"Yeah" Fleamont nodded "I am not proud because you are perfect. Because you are not... I am proud because you are an amazing person and a good human being. You've might have made mistakes or hurt people. James, you are so young, you are a kid. We are all a bit awful at that age. But I see you are maturing... You are becoming an incredible man. Even more than me"
James expected some scolding. Some sort of disappointment from his father.
"But I..."
"Have you ever wanted to truly hurt someone?" Fleamont asked.
James shook his head.
"Then it had only been silly mistakes of a kid. From now on, James, be a man. Start doing things right. Silly pranks, jokes and mischiefs are fun. But there comes a time in one's life when he needs to take care of serious matters. And I reckon you are doing an amazing job"
"So you don't think I am a bad person?" James's eyes filled with tears.
Fleamont shook his head "Of course not. You have the best of your mother and me. And we are very proud of you"
James wrapped his arms around the old man as tears ran down his eyes. He was willing to change and ammend his mistakes. It was time to grow up. Yes, he was only sixteen. He was still young and he could still have fun. But he was going to be better. He was going to stop making fun of others. He was going to stop bragging. He was going to make Remus feel welcome no matter who he was. He was going to take care of Sirius and Pete. He was going to stop showing off and asking Evans out like an idiot. She deserved better probably. He was going to be a good person. And make his parents proud. New Year, new James.
"I love you, Dad" James said as he squeezed his father tightly.
"Love you too, my son"
#Happy Birthday Prongs#I hate when people see him as a saint from the beginning#He was a good person but not perfect#What's interesting about this character is his arc#marauders#maraudersera#muggleau#james potter#jily#prongs#remus lupin#sirius black#peter pettigrew#lily evans#fleamont potter#euphemia potter
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Jegulus as angsty song lyrics (from previous list posted)
(If The World Was Ending by JP Saxe and Julia Michaels)
James : I know, you know, we know, you weren't down for forever and it's fine
Regulus : Think I figured out how, how to think about you without it ripping my heart out
(Rewrite the Stars by Zac Efron and Zendaya)
James : You know I want you, it's not a secret I tried to hide, I know you want me, so don't keep saying our hands are tied
Regulus : You know I want you, it's not a secret I tried to hide, but I can't have you, we're bound to break and my hands are tied
(when the party's over by Billie Eilish)
James : Tore my shirt to stop you bleedin', but nothin' ever stops you leavin', quiet when I'm comin' home and I'm on my own, I could lie, say I like it like that, like it like that, I could lie, say I like it like that, like it like that
Regulus : But nothin' is better sometimes, once we've both said our goodbyes, let's just let it go, let me let you go
(Daylight by David Kushner)
James : Oh, I love it and I hate it at the same time, you and I drink the poison from the same vine, oh, I love it and I hate it at the same time, hidin' all of our sins from the daylight
Regulus : Tellin' myself it's the last time, can you spare any mercy that you might find, if I'm down on my knees again? Deep down, way down, Lord, I try, try to follow your light, but it's night time, please, don't leave me in the end
(Astronomy by Conan Gray)
James : We've traveled the seas, we've ridden the stars, we've seen everything from Saturn to Mars, as much as it seems like you own my heart, it's astronomy, we're two worlds apart
Regulus : We're two worlds apart, stop trying to keep us alive, you're pointing at stars in the sky that already died, stop trying to keep us alive, you can't force the stars to align when they've already died
(Bubblegum by Clairo)
James : Sorry I didn't kiss you, but it's obvious I wanted to, bubble gum down my throat and it's a curse, but my luck couldn't get any worse
Regulus : You look so nice in your shirt, it's sad because it just hurts, I'd do anything for you, but would you do that for me, too?
(Fourth of July by Sufjan Stevens)
James : The evil it spread like a fever ahead, it was night when you died, my firefly, what could I have said to raise you from the dead? Oh could I be the sky on the Fourth of July? Well you do enough talk, my little hawk, why do you cry? Tell me what did you learn from the Tillamook burn? Or the Fourth of July? We're all gonna die
Regulus : The hospital asked should the body be cast, before I say goodbye, my star in the sky, such a funny thought to wrap you up in cloth, do you find it all right, my dragonfly?, Shall we look at the moon, my little loon, why do you cry? Make the most of your life, while it is rife, while it is light, well you do enough talk, my little hawk, why do you cry? Tell me what did you learn from the Tillamook burn? Or the Fourth of July? We're all gonna die
(Heather by Conan Gray)
James : I still remember the third of December, me in your sweater, you said it looked better on me than it did you, only if you knew how much I liked you
Regulus : But I watch your eyes as she, walks by, what a sight for sore eyes, brighter than the blue sky, she's got you mesmerized while I die
(I Hear a Symphony by Cody Fry)
James : I used to hear a simple song, that was until you came along, now in its place is something new, I hear it when I look at you
Regulus : I used to hear a simple song, that was until you came along, you took my broken melody, and now I hear a symphony
(lovely by Billie Eilish and Khalid)
James : Oh, I hope some day I'll make it out of here, even if it takes all night or a hundred years, ned a place to hide, but I can't find one near, wanna feel alive, outside I can't fight my fear
Regulus : Isn't it lovely, all alone? Heart made of glass, my mind of stone, tear me to pieces, skin to bone, hello, welcome home
(Train Wreck by James Arthur)
James : Unbreak the broken, unsay these spoken words, find hope in the hopeless, pull me out of the train wreck
Regulus : Unburn the ashes, unchain the reactions now, not ready to die, not yet, pull me out the train wreck, pull me out, pull me out, pull me out, ah, pull me out, pull me out, pull me out
(Something in the Orange by Zach Bryan)
James : But I miss you in the mornings when I see the sun, something in the orange tells me we're not done
Regulus : To you I'm just a man, to me you're all I am, where the hell am I supposed to go? I poisoned myself again, something in the orange tells me you're never coming home
(Two Birds by Regina Spektor)
James : Two birds on a wire (oh-oh-oh), one says, "C'mon" and the other says, "I'm tired", the sky is overcast and I'm sorry (oh-oh-oh), one more or one less, nobody's worried
Regulus : Two birds on a wire, one tries to fly away, and the other watches him close from that wire, he says he wants to as well, but he is a liar
(Water Fountain by Alec Benjamin)
James : Now I'm grabbing her hips, and pulling her in, kissing her lips, and whispering in her ear, and I know that it's only a wish, and that we're not standing by the water fountain
Regulus : Now he's grabbing her hips, and pulling her in, kissing her lips, and whispering in her ear, and she knows that she shouldn't listen, and that she should be with me by the water fountain
#lgbtq#harry potter#marauders#jegulus#gay#these songs are so them#sunseeker#starchaser#james x regulus#james potter#regulus black#this is actually so depressing tbh-
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For the prompts, either 19. it made me think of you, 24. just really needed a hug sort of hug, or 15. bed warm
v4 v5 era sadness and Also beacon bees just for you since i put off answering this prompt like a week lol. also i don't know why i chose to write this in past tense i managed to confuse myself with the tenses halfway through. getting less literate as we speak. if the tenses don't make sense at some point please respect that i have not written past tense in Years
Blake got sick once, at Beacon.
She hadn't exactly had a lot of time to go get her flu shot while she was running missions for the White Fang in the months before her matriculation; it was honestly a bit of a miracle it hadn't happened sooner. Several nasty viruses had already swept through the dorms by the time Blake finally got hit, not long at all before the Vytal Festival. In hindsight, she was grateful it wasn't any sooner. She would've hated to try to handle hiding her ears from her teammates at the same time as trying not to cough her lungs out or pass out every time she sat up too fast.
At the time, she was just irritated it was happening at all.
The first two days, Blake could pretend to be fine. By the third day, she excused herself from class when she found herself getting dizzy in her chair and slunk back to the dorm in defeat. She'd found it empty, of course, and barely managed to drop her things on the floor and take her bow off before the need to lie down overwhelmed her.
Drop her things, take her bow off, and crawl up into Yang's bed instead of her own, that is.
Hours later, when Yang returned from class, Blake was just awake enough to notice, unable to sleep between the shivers wracking her body and the sweat beading on her forehead.
"Blake," Yang said, setting her own bag on the chair by the desk. "You good?"
"Mmhhghmph."
"Blake..." Yang reached up over the side of the bunk bed and set her hand on Blake's forehead. And, okay, maybe Blake was a little overheated, since Yang's skin actually felt cold against hers, and Yang is never, ever cold. "You're burning up. You gotta get out of those blankets."
Blake shivered at the very thought.
"M'cold."
"I know you are." Yang's voice took on a tone that Blake had never heard before. It reminded her of the way Yang often spoke to Ruby. Not quite maternal, but almost uncomfortably close to it, considering the nature of her and Blake's relationship. "But you've got to cool off some, okay? I'll get a cold washcloth for your head." Blake groaned wordlessly in response, half-listening as Yang left the room and the tap ran in the bathroom.
"Okay, scoot over." Yang was already back; Blake must've dozed off for a moment. Blake flopped herself to the side, aching all the way, and let Yang climb up and squeeze into bed beside her, sitting up, back against the wall. Yang found Blake's forehead with the washcloth like a homing missile, making Blake flinch at the freezing cold water, even as it felt paradoxically good despite her trembling.
"What are you doing in my bed, anyway? You could've fallen if you're this sick." Yang's fingertips pressed the washcloth down against Blake's forehead. The pressure felt good—soothing. Blake didn't have the energy to lift her head and encourage it, but luckily Yang didn't seem inclined to stop.
(Later, Blake would blame her presence in Yang's bed—and her honesty in this moment—on fevered delirium.)
"It's warmer than mine."
"Warmer?" Yang repeated. "It's the same bed."
"You have nicer blankets." That much was true; Yang had replaced the blanket Beacon provided each of them with a thick comforter, and over top of that, a handmade quilt from home that was wonderfully heavy pressing down onto Blake.
"Speaking of which." Yang's hand finally left Blake's forehead, much to her disappointment. "You've got to let some of this heat out." Blake groaned in protest, but allowed Yang to tug the blankets away from her body, letting fresh air in to draw the heat of the fever out. It was cold, and hot, and uncomfortable, but it wasn't as bad as it could've been, not with Yang there beside her.
(It's this that Blake thinks of, months later, when she picks up some kind of sickness on Menagerie and sweats it out in her childhood bedroom. Her mother brings her water, and ice, and pets her hair back from her sweating face, and it's lovely, it really is; Blake had missed her parents and the way they took care of her, is grateful that they still take care of her after everything, but Blake lies there and aches and thinks about Yang. Yang's always-warm hands, cold on her feverish skin, and the fact that there is no universe where Blake will feel them exactly like that again.)
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The cut of angel teeth
you only come up to me this way in a dream
in the land where things are never as they seem
when I'm all over you until I can't breathe
asking you to give me all your love with teeth
where it only hurts when it can hurt you
and you can hate me for it but you know it's true
in that farmer's field where no one can see
how you're looking at me like the sky's gone empty
I know I'll die there — love is a nightmare
and you're always right there
between my thighs with all your man-made fracture
your pretty face haloed by the bleached pasture
eyes passed by the unshakable hold of my jaw
deaf to a sacrilegious prayer in every breath that I draw
underneath the whispered confession — only to you
and I try to keep all my stained-glass beneath your view
from a body crucified out of involuntary desire
only mended through endless fire
and here you are making your way up to me
with those steady hands through all my reverie
and I start to fall apart at the seams
remembering you only hold me like this in my dreams
you're sinking through me and I'm letting you
I don't want you and still I'm begging you
give me the kind of love I'll get to keep when you leave
give me something holy to believe —
I know all my endless consecration comes from within
visible through the burst blood vessels in my skin
but the way I need you to look at me goes to waste
you crash land up to me forever misplaced
I would've let you see right through
the way I'm red-faced and desperate — only for you
and you go on and bite your way up to me
under that lonely farmer's oak tree
and you give in — give me all of your love with teeth
secretly hungry for the blood that runs beneath
you're an angel falling over and over again in my dreams
so eager to take me down to all of your extremes
I can taste it — I can feel it
I'm kneeling over you with eyes closed and I believe it
you're the bruise that hides underneath the bone
the cut of your teeth tastes just like home
and you can't hear a fucking word I say
fever-hot in between my hands and I start to pray
— to a God you refuse call by name
you're still flesh and blood and to you it's all the same
telling me nobody should try and save you
and I said to you I don't think anyone could make you
but an angel will always be an angel at the end of the day
so say what you want to say —
you fell from heaven the second you chased me down
holding me through all your sins for me to drown
and I'm soaked — choked through
you don't know me as well as you think you do
in your hands I'm all eyes and I can't find the words
and I try to take you for better or for worse
but your teeth go for the soft parts of my body
you're all over me like you never knew how to hate me
I know I'll die here — the love's insincere
but you're still right here
and I kiss your pretty mouth until my lips turn blue
you're a real good fallen angel and I love you
and I hate you — your fingers stain upon my skin
you only wanted to know what I feel like from within
you're rough like concrete and easy like gasoline
and you run me over in a left-alone scene
still looking up at me with those doe eyes long vacated
I don't know how long I can keep you placated
all my dreams end in dismissed possibility
and the day will break the hold on my undemanding pliability
I'll wake up in tears until I'm all soaked through
I never wanted to do this with you
— but we were right there
all over me in a farmers field and we lied there
I only needed your love with the cut of your teeth
but you went for everything I try so hard to keep beneath
even in the morning's lowlight I continue to bleed
you say you're just like me and the flesh is all you need
but you're an angel with teeth and you're hungry
and you'll never outgrow the third degree
you'll burn right through me with that damned fire
there's nothing you can do that will take us higher
so say what you want you want to say
you're still a fallen angel at the end of the day
#I genuinely don't know how to explain this one#just happy to get it out of the drafts babeyyyy#writeblr#writing#original writing#writers of tumblr#poetryslutsreloaded#poetry#poem#spilled ink#poems on tumblr#poetry by renae#renae
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i just think 📘 reading in bed + 🩵 blankets + 💙 cold & flu symptoms would be very cute for ineffable husbands with a sick Crowley... i love your writing! thank you 🖤
wahhh this is sooooo cute for them pls 🥺🩵🩵🩵🩵
****
“Hell itself would be better than this,” Crowley groans from where he’s sprawled across the sofa in the bookshop.
He's on day three of this winter cold, and all of his symptoms seem to have caught up with him at once. He’d spent the better part of the afternoon drooping about the shop, picking things up and putting them down, complaining about his sore throat, sneezing in little fits of twos and threes, and doing more or less anything he could to get Aziraphale’s attention.
“Now, I’m sure that’s not true,” Aziraphale tuts, putting his book aside and making his way over to him. “Are you even comfortable like that, my dear? We really can go upstairs. I’d go with you,” he promises, nudging the pouty demon. He coaxes Crowley up and off of the sofa before he can really even register what’s happening. Crowley settles against Aziraphale easily, though, blanket-warm and pliant even as he rolls his eyes.
“You’ll stay? You hate sleeping, angel,” Crowley reminds him. He sounds needier than he usually allows himself and Aziraphale hugs him just that much closer.
“I don’t hate it, I just don’t need it. Besides, I won’t be sleeping, dear boy, you will. I’ve just been reading, which I can do just as easily in bed.” Curling up in bed with Crowley, tucked beneath the lovely soft sheets and piles of blankets he’s collected for them — well, for Crowley, really — sounds just about as close to heaven as they can get down here on Earth.
“Mnh, fine,” Crowley agrees, like he’s doing Aziraphale an enormous favor, then gives himself away by turning and nuzzling a tired, sniffly kiss against his neck.
Aziraphale doesn’t bother trying to suppress the smile this elicits. It’s rare that Crowley lets himself be quite so vulnerable, and it’s never lost on the angel that he’s the only one who gets to see him this way. He presses a kiss to his forehead before they make their way upstairs – he’s not fever warm, not yet – but he makes a mental note to keep checking on it; Crowley’s colds almost always come with a low-grade fever that leaves him achy and miserable.
For someone who didn’t want to move, Crowley wastes no time crawling into bed and slithering under the covers as soon as they get upstairs, miracling himself into black, silky soft pajamas as he goes.
“Y’can change too, angel,” he says, tugging at the buttons of Aziraphale’s vest. “Ngk…h-hold that th-hih! thought… Hh’iiitshh! Huh’Uptshh!” Crowley turns away to sneeze, blinks a few times, then sneezes a third and final time, a harsher, wetter hh’IieeSHOO! that shivers right through him.
Aziraphale gives a soft, sympathetic sound, then tucks a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth in lieu of a blessing.
“Warm enough, darling?” Aziraphale asks, taking Crowley’s suggestion and changing into soft, plaid flannel pajamas before sliding into bed beside him.
“Mmh…am now,” Crowley says, winding himself around Aziraphale until they’re little more than a tangle of limbs, Crowley clinging onto him with no sign of letting go, snuggling into his chest and sniffling until he’s comfortable enough to relax. He’s pale, save for the pink tinge around his nostrils, and his eyes are drooping like he’s fighting to keep them open.
“Very good,” Aziraphale smiles.
“What’re you reading?” Crowley asks through a yawn.
Aziraphale’s face flushes. He’s read this one at least a dozen times, but he’s quite sure he’ll never get tired of it.
“Pride and Prejudice,” he admits, sneaking a glance at Crowley, who is already giving him a knowing look.
“Sap,” Crowley says through a yawn.
“Oh, you like this one,” Aziraphale says indignantly. And he does, though he’ll never admit it.
Crowley shrugs against him, then muffles a cough against his shoulder. “S’okay,” he says. “Darcy’s a bit of a prick, is all. …Y’can read it out loud if you like…”
“Because you like it, you mean,” Aziraphale teases.
Crowley doesn't say anything, but Aziraphale can feel him melting into sleep as he starts to read, the familiar story a comfort to them both.
“Sleep tight, my dear,” Aziraphale murmurs when Crowley drifts off.
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Wrong On The Money (25)
part 25 of ?? | 653 words | Teen+
Blackmail fic on Ao3 | on tumblr
Summary:
“You had a really bad fever, you’ve been sleeping it off for a day and a half,” Lucas adds unprompted. Probably because Steve hasn’t asked. “The bites got infected. Fair warning, Robin is really mad at you for letting that happen.”
25.
The first person Steve sees upon waking is Lucas, bruised all to hell.
“It’s okay,” Lucas says quickly, standing and moving closer. “Steve, it’s okay! Vecna’s dead. You’re in the hospital, everyone’s here, everyone’s fine.”
Steve looks to his left and sees Eddie, asleep in the next bed over. “Ed,” he mumbles with a sluggish tongue.
Brown curls, denim, cigarette and weed smoke, Bambi eyes, tattoos, exaggerated movements, and big words. Red on Steve’s hands, the taste of blood. He isn’t supposed to be so still.
Lucas falters, then rallies. “He’s gonna be okay. You got him out, Dustin told me all about it.”
Reassured by those words (and the steady beep of machines from that side of the room), Steve looks back at Lucas. “Max?”
Piercing glares, skateboard wheels on concrete, and the threat of a lawyer that he knows is a bluff but caves to anyway. Hanging in the air above the cemetery, crying after she falls. If that monster crumpled her like tissue paper, it’ll break Steve too.
Wincing, Lucas tells him. About Max’s broken arm, and the fight with Jason, and Andy tackling Erica in the park across from the Creel house. About Dustin’s sprained ankle. About Mike coming back with the Byers boys and some guy named after a sweater pattern in a pizza van, and Joyce turning up with an emaciated Hopper and that sarcastic conspiracy dude a day later.
He promises not to tell anyone that Steve cries at hearing Hopper is alive after all.
“You had a really bad fever, you’ve been sleeping it off for a day and a half,” Lucas adds unprompted. Probably because Steve hasn’t asked. “The bites got infected. Fair warning, Robin is really mad at you for letting that happen.”
Day and a half my ass, Steve thinks, because despite all that sleep he feels exhausted. But everyone’s okay. . . . They even got someone back, and that’s a fucking first.
“And I didn’t even have to get a concussion this time,” Steve says with a smile that falters just as much as Lucas’. He feels shaky, fragile, and hates it, because he doesn’t want to break in front of one of the kids.
Lucas offers a strained grin. “Guess I inherited that along with your basketball skills.”
“No, seriously? You’re stealing that from me too, Sinclair? It’s like nothing is sacred anymore.”
And he’s trying so hard, but he’s so tired. He’s trying to sound light but his voice breaks in the wrong direction when the inflection is supposed to come out light and a little sarcastic.
“You okay?” Steve whispers around the lump in his throat. The answer is obvious, he has eyes, but he wants to give the kid the option of how seen he wants to feel. These kids never seem to get any choices in all this shit, beyond survive or don’t.
Lucas spends a moment looking everywhere but at him, but then—“No.”
So Steve motions him over, does his best to give Lucas the kind of hug he always needed after everything was over, but never got until the third time around gave him Robin. Because he gets Lucas’ desire to fit in, to appease the popular crowd in the hopes of being allowed to just be—except it’s never enough, you either wake up and get out or stay in and lose sight of who you wanted to be in the first place, and at least Lucas handled that part better than Steve had. He gets the way Lucas worked so hard to protect Max and his sister, protect all the people in his life who matter, and mostly succeeded but came close enough to failure to fuel the nightmares.
And he’s so, so proud of the kid for not trying to fake being fine now that it’s over, as though what happened didn’t still matter and what he’d done, what he’d sacrificed was nothing.
#steddie blackmail fic#steddie fic#steddie#stranger things fic#steve harrington#lucas sinclair#eddie munson
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