#Domestics things

[emmis15]

Domestic Affairs with Bucky Barnes

―I used to cut my father's hair while he was working in the lab, so I know what I'm doing― Cass said as she placed a towel over my shoulders and covered my chest.

It was time for a haircut. Steve had told me, Sam had told me, and Natasha had laughed at me because I couldn't always have it in my eyes, and I was fed up with it. Besides, Dr. Raynor had said that maybe a change in my appearance would help me think outside the box and do some exposure therapy to deal with crowded spaces or being touched by unknown beings. I wasn't comfortable with that, and since I urgently needed someone to help me, I reluctantly asked mini Stark for help.

―Just… do it quickly, I don't want to be here for too long― I said uncomfortably.

I looked in the mirror of my bathroom and saw her with a small empathetic smile, touching my metal shoulder, which made me feel worse. It wasn't a part of my body that I loved.

―I want you to know that if you feel pressured or have any horrible Hydra flashbacks while I'm cutting or using the machine, you need to tell me to stop because it won't be good for you to keep that to yourself. Trust me, I know from experience― she said, looking at me through the mirror.

I nodded with little confidence, but we were already here, and I wasn't going to let anyone I didn't know touch me.

―Tell me about what you've learned about the new world recently― she said, wetting my hair with a sprayer, and my skin quickly became goosebumps. I sighed, closing my eyes.

―Steve has been showing me music or the one he started delving into modernity with, but I still prefer 40s music.

I felt the metal blades against my nape, and I was momentarily startled, but Cass's free hand gripped my shoulder, tapping or making patterns to keep me calm, something she did to herself sometimes when there were loud noises or her father talked about her time in Hydra as an experiment. She played with her metal heart-shaped pendant on her chest.

―¿What music did he show you? ¿Pop? ¿Rock? ¿Hip-hop? ¿Rap?― she asked, very concentrated as she cut. I could feel my long hair falling to the floor.

―He showed me a band, Nirvana, ¿maybe? He likes them a bit, but I don't know. I have to listen to more things― I said with a grimace.

―Their albums are on Spotify. Dad kind of likes Nirvana, and I'm okay with their lead singer― she said, her tongue sticking out, too busy to connect my gaze with hers in the mirror.

―¿Is Spotify that round black and green thing in every room of the house?― I asked, confused. I had been trying to be explained things like the screens in every room or the circles that, when touched, showed other things, but it was still hard to grasp.

She let out a amused laugh, stopping cutting my hair to grab the modern version of my flip phone. She liked old things but with a new version for this time, or so she kept telling me when I asked her how a young and beautiful girl could kiss and love an old and broken man like me.

Leaving the scissors on the sink and talking to the house's robot, an old 40s song began to play. I didn't like it much, but it was nice, and I liked how she swayed her hips, resuming work and humming a few things.

―You'll hear the songs that have been left in your personal music registry by Steve and some songs of mine with certain similarities in melody or tempo, so you can find new things without leaving your comfort zone― my hair was getting shorter, and the time to use the machine was approaching, but Cass's sweet and calm voice was like a fog to my mind.

―I still prefer record players― I said.

She laughed again.

―Of course you do― she said, putting the scissors on the white marble and resting her forearms on my shoulders. ―¿What do you think? ¿Shall I start cutting with the machine or leave it like this?"

She asked me, looking into my eyes through the mirror with a little smile.

―Shorter, nothing behind the ears, and little hair on the face― I said confidently.

She smiled and gave me a small kiss on the cheek before stepping away from me and grabbing the machine carefully.

―Let's go carefully, ¿okay? If you feel pressured, if you don't like it, if the noise is too much, we can stop whenever you want― she lightly massaged my shoulders.

I nodded carefully, sighing and closing my eyes and staying with the soft sound of the guitar and violins playing in the bathroom. Cass's soft voice singing along with the woman in the song trying to distract me from the sound of the machine so close to my head was comforting.

―It's called 'The Lakes.' It's from a very calm and deep album by Taylor, the blonde girl I have plastered all over my room― she said near my ear with a calm voice.

―¿The one you spent making bracelets and made me one?

―Exactly, you'll like this album. It's very calming and has very beautiful lyrics, and it helps you sleep because of how sweetly she sings. I have the vinyl, so someday, when you have nightmares, we'll listen to it.

―I always have nightmares.

―And that's why we're going to listen to it tonight― she kissed the top of my head before turning me around to face her.

Both of us face to face, her eyes shining with excitement with the machine in hand, and for a moment, I remembered that thing passing by me, and I didn't even feel it.

―I have to tap ahead, so I need you to be very still and calm, ¿okay? You can hold onto my waist if something scares you― she grabbed my chin with a smile on her face.

―It's okay, Doll, I promise.

She stopped looking at me and focused on cutting the front part of my hair while my arms were around her hips, watching her from below. Her concentration was the same as when she used to create her machines or when she did things in her laboratory, so she was taking her work very seriously.

―I vaguely remember my mother cutting my hair when I was little― I said, looking at her.

―That's sweet, Buck. For a long time after Daddy rescued me from Hydra, I couldn't get near anything sharp because I wanted to end my life on Earth, so when they had to cut my hair, Dad and Adriana, his assistant, would put on Disney movies for me, and both of them would cut my hair― she hummed a few lines of the song from before from time to time.

She suffered for three years what I did for 50 years, but we were still at the same level of pain and trauma. She was very young, a preteen, and she was already a killing machine, and they not only messed her up mentally but physically with that star on her chest and putting cables instead of veins.

―I'm sorry.

―Buck, everyone has their response to the situation. Mine was wanting to throw myself out the window because of the pain, but now I'm better and ready to help you in everything― she bent down to kiss my lips carefully before turning me around to look at her in the mirror.

It didn

't turn out bad at all; she had talent for this, and it showed by how proud she was of her work.

―I like it, I thought it would look worse― I said surprised as I approached the mirror to see myself; it was weird to see myself with short hair, although I didn't dislike it.

She looked at me incredulously, but it didn't last long as that proud smile appeared on her face again.

―I'm glad you like it, Buck, and I'm very proud of you for overcoming another fear today. You were very brave with me― she looked into my eyes through the mirror before leaving a kiss on my head.

―Thank you, Doll.

―It was a pleasure, my love.

[eriochromatic]

lazy mornings at the Last Drop ☕☀️

[imfinereallyy]

you can pry happy endings from my cold-dead hands. It can be the most heart stopping, gut wrenching fic that has every existed and I will read every drop of it if I get my happy ending. I have had enough painful endings in real life, give me happy in my fantasy world. It can be at the last second, it can be a single sentence, even a single word. Give me all the angst and hurt in the world for 500,000 words, but please give me the comfort I need in the ending. please and thank you.

[lazylittledragon]

modern au gale+cyra/dadkarios for soul healing <33

cyra should not have a phone her internet history would have her on a watchlist

[recny]

jacob anderson #1 lesdaughter enthusiast confirmed

[peachsukii]

✮ content. pro-hero!bakugo x pro-hero fem!reader. late 20 somethings + married w/ a toddler. family fluff while he’s away on a mission. slightly suggestive (aka Katsuki’s down bad for his wife). ;)

“Momma!” Your daughter shouts from the living room, the little pitter patters of her feet echoing down the hall as she sprints toward you with glee. “Phone’s ringing, pick it up, please!”

Her small hands shove the phone against your thigh, bouncing up and down in place with excitement. You tuck the folded towel in your arms into the closet and bend down to her level. When you take the phone from her, your husband’s name —💥Katsuki 👑💕— is displayed across the screen, accompanied by a photo of the three of you on your last beach trip. Clicking the “Accept” button, the visual of Katsuki in his hero costume appears, his attention focused on removing his gloves while waiting for you to answer.

“Hey handsome,” you greet, heart swelling when you catch him smirk at the compliment. “Someone’s been waiting for you to call.”

“An’ where’s my little girl at?”

Your daughter hops into view, jumping up and down with her hands waving frantically.

“Hi Daddy!” She giggles, dancing back and forth on her tip toes. “Did ya beat up the bad guys today?”

Katsuki laughs heartily, finally sitting on the bed in his hotel room. “Sure did. I’m keepin’ you and Momma safe. How’s school goin’?”

“S’good! I got a gold star today for my drawing.”

“Yeah? Proud of you, sweetheart. Can’t wait for ya to show me when I come home.”

The time on your phone reads 7:30PM, and like clockwork, your daughter begins to stretch, yawning the same way Katsuki does when he’s exhausted after a long shift.

“Why don’t you get ready for bed, sweetie?” You suggest while rubbing her back. “I know you’re tired.”

“Okaaay,” she pouts, trying to fight off her sudden sleepiness. “G’night Daddy. I miss you!”

“Only two more days. Love an’ miss you, Princess. Sweet dreams.”

With a wave and a smile, she trots off toward her bedroom to change into her PJs, leaving you with a few minutes to talk with Katsuki before tucking her into bed. You walk back into your joint bedroom, leaving the door cracked as you lay on the bed. Katsuki does the same, shifting the camera to follow his movements as he stretches out across the sheets.

“Goddamn, I miss you somethin’ fierce,” he admits, sighing into his forearm as it crosses his face to hide the soft dusting of pink on his cheeks. “You put a spell on me or some shit?”

“Not this time,” you chuckle, feet swaying in the air behind you like a giddy schoolgirl. “I miss you, too. How was your day?”

“S’alright, nothin’ crazy. Can’t wait’ta be back home, sleepin’ alone sucks.”

“Yeah, the bed is cold without you.”

There’s a short lull in the conversation before it shifts into something more sensually charged. Katsuki tends to get clingier the longer he’s stationed away from home — all the telltale signs of it are reflecting in his eyes through the camera, sparkling under the dim moonlight from his hotel room window.

“Good thing I know how to keep ya warm,” he purrs with a wink, the mischievous grin stretched over his lips telling you how he’s truly feeling. “S’how you got knocked up the first time.”

There it is, that familiar warmth flooding into your belly and heat spreading from your ears to your toes.

“Kaaats!” you whine, shyly tucking your head into your chest. “Shut up.”

“Don’t get shy on me now, Peaches,” he teases, laughing quietly at your bashfulness. “S’cute how easy ya are to rile up.”

You wave him off and roll your eyes lovingly. “I should go put her to bed. Are you gonna be up in an hour?”

His brow furrows curiously. “Prob��ly. Why?”

“Gives me time to get her settled, put away the laundry and finish the dishes. Up for a little late night date?”

Oh, Katsuki knows exactly what that means. Why was the thought of watching you doing chores around the house and taking care of your daughter making him suddenly break out in a sweat?

“Earth to Katsuki?” You call again and recollect his attention. “If you’re too tired—”

“Never too tired for you, baby. Go do what ya gotta do, I’ll be waitin’.”

“Okay, I love you!” You sweetly sing as you roll off the bed. “Get comfy, bye babe.”

“Love you too, Peach. See ya.”

The “End Call” screen flashes briefly in front of Katsuki’s eyes, the darkness of the hotel room returning once the screen dims into nothingness. He mumbles a breathless ‘fuck’ into the air before jumping off the bed to stomp toward the bathroom.

Only you can leave him hanging by a thread on simple promises, even when he’s miles away. And damn, did he love it.

[hairmetal666]

"I'm going to marry you one day, Steve Harrington," he declares to all and sundry (Steve and Robin) in Family Video.

Steve laughs, ducks his head, hair a bountiful cascade that doesn't move an inch. He's blushing but it's not, like, a reaction to the sentiment of marriage. Steve knows Eddie is just like that, flirtatious and over-the-top and incapable of not speaking his thoughts as soon as they enter his head.

Robin roles her eyes, goes back to flipping through her magazine, something about cinema, and Eddie swipes his just rented movies off the counter.

"You think I'm joking," he twists so he's facing them, walking backwards to the door. "But I swear it, oh, beloved purveyor of movies and deleter of late fees."

"Yeah, yeah." Steve's face is pinker than before and Eddie recognizes and immediately forces himself to forget how cute it is. "But get out of here before I change my mind."

And Eddie, he loves to push his luck and also has very little filter between his brain and his mouth, so he says, "aw, don't be that way, Stevie, you love me."

Robin looks up, then, mouth a pursed twist as she tries not to laugh. "Gross, Eddie." She throws a Sour Patch at him. "Keep all that mushy stuff to when you two are alone."

It's his turn to blush, fierce and raging, and Steve whirls, squeaking, to whack Robin with a Twizzler.

Eddie points at her. "Rude, Buckley. You know I love you too."

"Again, gross." She sticks out her tongue, tinged blue from the Sour Patch.

"We really need to work on your ability to accept affection," Steve tells her.

She scowls, kicks him, makes Eddie laugh.

"I think that's my cue to leave, children." He says. He, quite literally, bows out of the store, just missing the barrage of candy thrown his way.

---

Three Months Later

Eddie stumbles into the Harrington house, kicking his boots off by the door. Steve's in the kitchen, fussing around the stove. His hair's askew and he's--

"Harrington, are you wearing an apron?" He ignores the kick in his chest at the sight. "You'll make a sweet little housewife one day."

"Shut-up," Steve says without any heat. "Try this."

He brandishes a spoon filled with red sauce in Eddie's direction, and Eddie--heart always on his sleeve--eagerly leans in to taste. He closes his eyes, savors, and it's good, truly. Perfect fresh acidity with just a burst of sweetness.

"It's amazing, baby," he says without thinking. He opens his eyes right in time to see Steve turning back to the sauce, blush high on his cheekbones.

"Thanks. You're making me nervous though, hovering." Steve hip checks him. "Go sit somewhere."

And Eddie does, jumps onto the island--the Harrington's are the kind of people who have an island--and chatters to Steve about his day, about his new campaign, about the new song he's trying to learn.

All the while, he's watching Steve cook, in his apron, with such care and thoughtfulness, with true command. Maybe it's the domesticity of the scene, maybe his raging crush, but he has this flash of the two of them in the future. In their kitchen, Steve cooking dinner, and Eddie's arms are wrapped around his waist, he's pressing kisses to his temple, complimenting all his hard work and--

Steve feeds him a bite of the finished pasta, and it's so good that he groans, full-throated, unembarrassed, and says--he says, "I'm going to marry you one day, Steve Harrington."

He laughs, face pink, batting Eddie's shoulder. "Go sit down, man. It's time to eat."

---

Two Months After That

Eddie's working on a new campaign when the storm rolls in, wind rocking the trailer, thunder and lightning crackling in the sky. The power doesn't go out, but only just barely, the flickers making his heart pound for reasons that have nothing to do with weather.

There's a knock on the trailer door, and he opens it to find Steve Harrington standing on the porch, hair plastered to his head, clothes soaked. Robin's bike is propped against one of the awning supports. Familiar panic snaps to life in his gut.

"God, Steve, are you okay? Did something happen? That's Robin's bike, where's the Beamer? Is it--is it Vecna? Is--" He's blabbering can't stop, so he shoves his palm against his lips.

"It's not--not Upside Down stuff." He runs a hand through his soggy hair. "Can I come in, man? I--I want to tell you something."

This snaps Eddie out of his panic, and he's moving aside, saying, "Oh my god, get in here, you're soaked. Let me get towels. Do you want a change of clothes, I can--"

Steve catches him by the elbow and he full stops at the look in those big hazel eyes, fearful and sad and he doesn't know what, but his anxiety amps back up.

"I was with Robin and we were--we were talking, you know? And I told her that I like somebody, like really like them, but it was unexpected and--and--it's a guy. He's a guy but I still like girls? Robin said--she said that I'm probably bisexual. That I like guys and girls and--and everyone, I think."

It sends shockwaves through him, and he hopes it doesn't show, doesn't think it shows, but he's having trouble processing. Steve is bi and he likes someone and--Eddie stuffs down the jealousy that claws at him, knows it's more important that he's here for his friend.

"Thank you for telling me, sweetheart." He reaches out, slow in case Steve doesn't want to be hugged, but he launches himself into Eddie's arms.

Eddie holds him tight, heedless of his wet clothes, can feel his shoulders shake, and it tears Eddie's heart in two. All he can do is hold Steve and offer comfort, jealousy be damned.

"You're so brave, honey," he says once the tears taper off.

Steve gives a wet chuckle, face still buried against Eddie's neck. "I don't know about that. I think I got snot in your hair."

"It'll wash out." He laughs. "Is now the time to welcome you to the family? Apparently, we're growing exponentially."

"Does the welcome include a cake or something? I could really use cake."

And God, Steve, is so fucking cute, so sweet, so--everything Eddie has always wanted, and he--it's an accident, or at least, thoughtless--he presses a kiss to Steve's temple. More than one.

Steve pulls back fast, and Eddie lets go immediately. "Sorry, sorry. I--that was stupid. You like someone already, and I--"

His words are cut off as Steve kisses him. Steve kisses him? His brain can't process, but he kisses back. Can't not, not with Steve. Like, he doesn't know anything, head empty, but his body is with the program.

They break apart, he's breathing hard. Steve is beautifully flushed, mouth red and swollen. "You like someone," is what Eddie says.

Steve laughs. "I like you, Munson. Fucking crazy about you."

He smiles, so big it hurts, so big it grows into a delight laugh. "I'm going to marry you one day, Steve Harrington," he says.

---

Six Years Later

They're in bed, Saturday morning, rain pattering softly on the window.

Steve places slow kisses against his naked tummy, makes him tremble, shiver with overstimulation.

"Baby," he whines. "Sweetheart."

Steve smiles up at him, something cold pressing against his ribs, then into his hand.

It's a ring, black metal, shiny and iridescent as he turns it in the light. "What--Steve?"

With one last kiss to his hip bone, Steve sits up, slips the ring onto Eddie's finger. "I'm going to marry you one day, Eddie Munson."

[inklessletter]

Polaroid #1 May 28th, 1987

[brainrotcharacters]

Mothers and fuckers of the ketchup and mustard household (I'm going even more insane than usual)

[lilianade-comics]

yes, yes she has.

[indimiart]

𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘶𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘸𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵

[isawthismeme]

REBLOG THIS!!

[dearwillbyers]

byler s5 core

[ryllen]

when everything is confusing, and then u see a familiar face

[mochinomnoms]

Aaaaa I can't stop thinking about Trey in his sleepwear! He's got me in a chokehold and I don't want to escape!!!

There's something just so intimate and tantalizing of seeing Trey in such casual clothing.

The idea of potentially being the only person to see him disheveled and sleepy, hair messy and glasses on the nightstand. He looks almost bare without them, but that makes it kinda domestic, doesn't it?

If you point this out to him, it makes him go a bit warm and tingly. Yes, it is domestic, but please don't remind him. He's having a hard enough time not jumping you every time you spend the night and gingerly take off his glasses for him. He's fighting his inner demons every time he watches you fluff up your pillow and curl in, waiting for him to lay down next to you so he can melt into your arms like the husband he really is.

He's fighting to not sneak his hand under your clothes, pressing chaste kisses into the skin of your neck and collar as his hands wander to the rhythm of the soft press of his lips.

They squeeze at the place between your legs as his tongue tangles with your own and he moves so that you too can run your hands under his loose sleep shirt. From the shivers and tingles shuddering through his body from the ghosting of your fingertips, he just knows that this sleepover is going to become a sleepless one.

[amisonist]

It’s super funny that 90% of the time whenever I tell a trans girl about the human domestication guide she’ll say something along the lines of “okay I’ll give it a shot but tbh I don’t read very much so idk” only for her to message me the next day with “that was the hottest porn I’ve ever read omg” before becoming obsessed with it for a week