#Falling petals official

[prideblades]

I always imagine that when Byakuya first met Hisana he was very shy about it. He would've met her when he was just becoming an adult.

[inairbinad]

Heaven, Indiana

Part one of three | 6.7k | T | also on ao3 | Part Two | Part Three

A re-imagining of season 3, where Eddie and Robin are already looped in on the Upside Down madness, and Eddie joins Scoops Troop. Part of my Barb Lives AU from the Petals Verse, where everyone lives and the timeline gets wonky as a result. Can be read on its own. @steddie-week day 4 prompts: Familiar / Here Come the Tears

Eddie woke with a jolt from the same, familiar nightmare he’d been having since November. The one where he found himself right back in those unnatural, revolting tunnels beneath Hawkins, on the brink of death with Steve Harrington grasping his hands in fear.

On the dark of his bedroom ceiling he could still see the imprint of Steve’s eyes, wide and terrified that they were about to die. Even now that he was awake Eddie could still feel the pit in his stomach, the burning in his calves from running, the ache of wishing he’d kissed Steve in that moment with a stampede of demodogs charging after them both.

Eddie didn’t need to have creative nightmares anymore, not like he did when he was a kid. The reality of what he and Steve had gone through—and Robin, and the kids, and the rest of them—in the course of trying to save Hawkins from a swarm of actual demogorgons and a goddamn Mind Flayer was more than enough to keep Eddie haunted for the rest of time.

It didn’t help that every single one of those terrified, cursed memories was tied up in want.

His desperation to kiss Steve in that moment haunted his dreams nearly as often as the version where they never made it out of the tunnels all.

Or sometimes Eddie would find himself back in the bus in the junkyard, waiting for Steve to come diving back inside the bus with a hoard of demons at his back. This time Eddie would catch Steve in his arms, breathless and sweating from staring down the gaping maw of death with nothing but a nail bat. Then Eddie would slide his hands into Steve’s hair and his tongue into Steve’s mouth, caring for nothing and no one else while the rot clawed and scratched at the door, desperate to consume them both.

Eddie felt so inexplicably deranged for how much of his lust was tangled up in the violence that he wanted to scream.

Instead he groaned, then finally dragged himself out of bed to take a cold shower and get ready for work.

Eddie wasn’t entirely sure how he’d ended up dressed like a sailor—or rather more like a pirate, considering the tattoos he refused to cover up while he was working, like he was supposed to—and toiling away in the shiny, brand new, and brightly colored Starcourt Mall. But there he was, on time for his shift of scooping ice cream and pretending to be happy about it.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Eddie already knew he’d ended up there because of Steve goddamn Harrington: bane of Eddie’s existence and possibly the love his life, all wrapped up into one monster-hunting, child-defending, short-short-wearing package.

The problem with all of this—working with Steve, being friends with Steve, spending way too much of his every waking moment with Steve—was that now Eddie knew Steve was bisexual, and Eddie didn’t know how to deal with that bit of intel. Because knowing that meant every minute Steve wasn’t kissing Eddie, Eddie was going insane. It was one thing for Eddie to quiet the delusion that Steve would ever look in his direction before, back when Eddie assumed Steve was straight. But once Eddie realized he’d accidentally stumbled into some kind of queer-alliance-slash-part-time-monster-hunters club last fall, he’d been decidedly less capable of coping with his crush.

Sure, learning that alternate dimensions and monsters actually existed was enough of a mindfuck to last Eddie a lifetime. But then he had to go and get clobbered with the news that Steve was bi, and Barb and Nancy were dating, Robin was also a lesbian—and Steve Harrington is bi, dear god does that mean I have a shot?

The demogorgons seemed kind of quaint, after that. Even the ones Dustin tried to raise as pets.

It was nice, though, having more people like himself to hang out with. The thought of ever finding other gay friends in Hawkins used to seem laughable to Eddie, but now there was a whole flock of them.

All of this led to Eddie thinking he would enjoy working with Steve and Robin at Scoops Ahoy for the summer, just to have an excuse to be around Steve all day, every day. In that goddamn uniform, too. But it was only making Eddie fall for Steve harder.

So, yeah, Harrington was undoubtedly the reason Eddie was here. And he was late for his shift.

Rather than daydream about him until he showed, Eddie opted to kill the time between customers by having some fun with Robin.

“What about her, Birdie?” Eddie asked, nudging Robin to look across the food court towards a dark-haired girl near the Orange Julius.

Robin twisted to follow Eddie’s eye line until she landed on the girl in question. This was typically how the two of them liked to pass their shifts at Scoops Ahoy together—by playing each other’s wingmen while pretending everyone in Hawkins was draped in a rainbow flag and available to flirt.

“She looks like Nance,” Robin said, scrunching up her nose.

“Is that a problem?” Eddie asked, laughing lightly. He didn’t have much of a peg-leg to stand on, but he was nearly certain that Nancy was objectively pretty.

“No,” Robin shrugged, then started scanning the crowd for a girl more her speed. “I just wouldn’t want Barb to think I’m secretly lusting after her girlfriend.”

“Ah,” Eddie said, nodding slowly. “I forgot how seriously you took this imaginary game of ours.”

Rather than reply, Robin gave him a hearty shove until he went toppling off the counter he’d been perched atop. Eddie laughed as he stumbled to stay upright, but tripped over his own feet in the process. He was already halfway to flat on his ass, a smart remark about Robin’s clumsiness rubbing off on him already perched on his tongue, when he felt a pair of strong arms catch him around the waist. Eddie knew from the solid feel of the chest against his back who had caught him, but the whole thing was a little too ironic for words.

“Good catch, Steve,” Robin laughed, just as Eddie turned his face back and upward to look into Steve’s. “Thought I might’ve killed our friend for a second.”

“I thought I told you to stop throwing him around,” Steve said with a grin. Eddie was still staring at him, still happily leaning into the feel of Steve’s arms wrapped around him. “He’s precious goods.”

Eddie couldn’t help the swell of satisfaction it gave him to hear Steve say that.

“I can’t stop my clumsy from rubbing off on you two,” Robin shrugged. Eddie grunted when at least part of his brain registered how Robin had just stolen his line.

Reluctantly, Eddie reactivated his own legs as he stood up of his own volition instead of relying on Steve. He brushed himself off and tried to act somewhat normal.

“Thanks for the save, Stevie,” Eddie said, doing his best to put on a charming smile. “And for trying to stop Birdie from trying to murder me.”

“Anytime, Eds,” Steve smiled back at full strength, plopping his sailor hat on as he did. “Sorry I’m late, I forgot where I left my keys again. What did I miss?”

“Robin’s got the hots for Nance,” Eddie said, earning himself a thwack from Robin’s own hat to accompany her squeak of indigence.

“I do not!” she cried, looking between Steve and Eddie—who were both giggling under their breath at her—like she couldn’t believe they’d treat her like this. “Assholes. Stop fucking with me.”

“Chrissy Cunningham’s on her way over,” Steve said next, elbowing Eddie in the side and nodding towards the front of the store.

“Oh, ha ha,” Robin grumbled. “Get Robin even more flustered by telling her the prettiest girl in Hawkins is near by, you’re so hilarious, dingus.”

Eddie, obviously a better friend than Steve, was frantically dragging his forefinger back and forth across his throat, trying to signal to Robin to shut the fuck up because Chrissy was, indeed, on her way up to the counter. Robin noticed too late, though, and Steve was having the time of his life watching her face turn red and her eyes get wide as a full moon.

Chrissy, sweetheart that she was, didn’t do much more than take in Robin’s distressed posture with a look of concern. “You okay, Robin?”

If she’d heard Robin calling her the ‘prettiest girl in Hawkins,’ she was doing an excellent job of hiding it. Eddie still noticed a sparkle in her eye that made him suspect she’d heard every word.

Robin gave Eddie a pleading look, like she wanted him to fix this for her, but he shook his head resolutely. She narrowed her eyes at him, then spun on her heel and beamed at Chrissy.

“I’m great, sorry,” Robin said, recovering impressively. “What’s up, Chrissy?”

“Oh, just shopping with some friends,” she shrugged. “Thought I’d come say hi. So, hi.”

“Hi,” Robin repeated, looking a little thunderstruck as Chrissy smiled at her. Eddie couldn’t blame her. Chrissy wasn’t in her usual cheerleader getup, and ironically enough she was in a rainbow colored t-shirt and jean shorts. But Eddie really knew what was driving Robin nuts was the fact that Chrissy was wearing suspenders, and her hair was loose and flowing down past her shoulders.

Eddie had heard many whiney monologues from Robin about how pretty Chrissy was over the last few months. He knew what to look for at this point.

“So, I’m having a party for the Fourth of July,” Chrissy started, then bit her lip as she paused to assess Robin’s face. Eddie zeroed in on it, wondering if maybe there was something reciprocal there that he hadn’t noticed before. “You should come.”

“Me?” Robin asked, really playing into the awkward teenage romcom angle, even if unintentionally.

“Yes,” Chrissy laughed, then she seemed to notice Steve and Eddie for the first time. “All of you should come.”

“We’d love to,” Steve said right away, elbowing Robin in an attempt to make her remember her words, probably. “Right, Rob?”

“Totally!” Robin finally exclaimed, and Steve stepped back to Eddie’s side again as Chrissy filled her in on the details. They tried to pretend like they were minding their own business, talking shop about ice cream like it was extremely important, but naturally they were eavesdropping half to hell.

“So can I get you some ice cream?” Robin asked eventually, slipping into her professional persona.

“Do you do samples?” Chrissy asked, leaning over the glass container to get a look at the flavors.

“Sure,” Robin said, and Eddie knew she’d break the sample limit for Chrissy in a heartbeat.

Steve finally lost control of himself, desperate gossip that he was, and dragged Eddie in the back with him so he could let loose his own commentary with a breathless laugh.

“They’re like, actually really cute. But I thought Rob’s head was going to explode,” Steve whispered. As Eddie moved to listen just on the other side of the passthrough’s sliding doors, Steve sidled up behind him. Then, just to drive Eddie further into the deep end, Steve hooked his chin into the crook of Eddie’s shoulder and rested it there. A shudder ran through Eddie at the feel of Steve’s breath on his neck, and he did his best to cover it up by telling Steve to shut up.

“Shh, you goober,” Eddie grumbled, despite the fact that he was laughing, too. “I’m trying to listen.”

Steve mercifully quieted down but stayed exactly where he was, making it difficult for Eddie to focus on Robin, anyway.

“Do you have a usual favorite?” Robin was asking Chrissy about ice cream flavors, Eddie had to remind himself. That was the important thing happening right now, not Steve’s mouth in such close proximity to his neck.

“I tend to like the fruity ones,” Chrissy answered, and Steve honest-to-god cackled. Eddie did his best to shush him, but he had to literally bite down on his own fist to keep the hilarity of it bottled up, especially when Steve pressed his whole face into Eddie’s shoulder in a poor attempt to stifle himself.

A thud sounded from the other side of the wall, which Eddie was pretty sure came from Robin kicking it in annoyance. Poor Chrissy was just out there being a normal person, and Steve and Eddie had to go and turn into a puddle of giggles over it.

“I swear to god, Stevie,” Eddie sputtered, trying not to give in to Steve’s contagious laughter. “Stop it before Birdie murders us with an ice cream scoop.”

That only made Steve’s shoulders shake harder, because apparently he enjoyed the threat of dying at his best friend’s hand. Then he rested his hands on either side of Eddie’s waist, holding on in a squeezing grip, until Eddie felt his muscles twitch beneath Steve’s fingertips.

“I’m sorry,” Steve wheezed. “But fruity.”

“You’re fruity,” Eddie said under his breath, which only made Steve double over again, clutching onto Eddie harder.

“No shit,” Robin said, suddenly just on the other side of the passthrough. She slid the doors open and glared at them both. “Chrissy definitely thinks I’m insane now, and you’re lucky I don’t come back there and kill you both with my bare hands.”

“Have you considered using the ice cream scoop?” Steve suggested, and now it was Eddie’s turn to let out an ugly, surprised guffaw.

“I deserve a raise,” Robin deadpanned, then slammed the doors shut again.

Steve pulled away from Eddie then, much to Eddie’s dismay. He dabbed at his eyes with the hem of his shirt, revealing a whole lot of abs and a tantalizing bit of hair disappearing beneath his stupidly small shorts.

Eddie swallowed and looked determinedly away, until his eyes landed on the baffling supply of bananas that were waiting to be hung on the wall. He groaned inwardly and tried to focus on getting through the rest of the day in one piece.

Eddie went from doing his usual amount of pining after Steve and surviving just fine, thank you very much, to decidedly not fine at all when the jacked guy who taught aerobics upstairs showed up in the Scoops line.

Eddie didn’t even know why he bothered coming into Scoops in the first place. All he ever did was order the low-fat bullshit that wasn’t even really ice cream, in a tiny portion, and tip like shit.

And somehow Steve found this attractive.

“Would you like to set sail on an ocean of flavor with me?” Steve opened with his usual, company-approved line that he somehow had turned into a come-on. Every time Steve said it like that, with his hip popped and a charming smile on, it made Eddie want to kick himself for being hung up on him. And yet it was wildly adorable in a terrible kind of way, and Eddie had to admit it would have worked on him in an instant.

The buff one didn’t even appreciate it.

“Just the usual, please,” he said with an easy smile. Eddie hated him.

So he decided to give him some shit.

“How was the Jane Fonda tape today?” Eddie asked, leaning across the counter and definitely not doing his actual job. He heard Steve stifle a little laugh, though, so Eddie figured he wasn’t on thin ice just yet.

The aerobics guy’s face pinched, as if there was something wrong with Jane Fonda. Another red flag, as far as Eddie was concerned.

“It’s Jazzercise,” he corrected in a flat tone. “And it was fine. How’s slinging ice cream?”

“Oh, it’s the best job in the world,” Steve cut in just as Eddie opened his mouth mouth in retort. “Especially when we get such great and attractive customers like yourself!”

Steve winked, and Eddie barely held in a scream.

“Right,” the idiot on the other side of the counter remarked. Then he took his ice cream and fled the store.

“Mark one more in the ‘You Suck!’ column,” Robin announced with fanfare and a uncoordinated drumroll as she whipped out her white board. She also gave Eddie a long, knowing look behind Steve’s back. Steve stayed none-the-wiser to Eddie’s misery or to Robin’s ribbing him over it, since he was begrudgingly digging out the Polaroid that they used to mark such special occasions as tallying the board.

Eddie moved over to where Robin stood, knowing she’d want him in the photo with her, despite the fact that he was all but slumped into a pout.

“Photo evidence, please?” Robin cooed at Steve, positively buzzing with satisfaction. Literally, Eddie could feel her glee just from sitting beside her, as she marked another tally on the ‘You Suck” side of Steve’s exploits in flirting.

It wasn’t as bad as if Steve had finally landed a mark on the ‘You Rule’ column, but it still stung in particular every time Steve tried it (however innocently) with another dude—especially the ones that were nothing like Eddie.

It only reminded him that he never had a shot in hell.

“Isn’t the tally evidence enough of my failures?” Steve whined, but he was already moving to take the picture.

“Nope!” Robin said, smacking her lips for emphasis. “Because you could secretly erase some and we both know I’d forget it. Plus, this is the second time you got nothing but a blank stare outta that guy. So. Photo, please!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve grumbled, then snapped a picture of Robin holding up the board with a broad smile, and Eddie doing his best not to look like a complete grump about it. Somehow, despite this whole thing being at his expense, Steve still managed to drop the camera from his face with a small smile.

“So, what are we doing tonight?”

———

Robin decided she wouldn’t be joining Steve and Eddie in hanging out at the trailer for the night, because she “didn’t care about getting high nearly as much” as they did, apparently. Instead, she was going to whatever Sapphic movie night Barb and Nance had planned, to which no boys were invited.

Eddie didn’t mind, considering that meant he got Steve to himself. Since Wayne was out at his weekly poker game, they opted to give in to Robin’s assumptions and smoke. Not that Wayne really would have cared, but Eddie liked to give his uncle the option of turning a blind eye when he could.

“Since when do you pout in pictures more than Robin or Max?” Steve asked as Eddie rolled them a joint, killing time by looking through the photos from their shift today.

Since I’m sick of watching you flirt with anyone who isn’t me, Eddie answered honestly in his own head. When he opened his mouth, though, lies poured out.

“I’m starting to feel sorry for your lack of game, man,” Eddie said with a blinding smile. “At some point the board just starts to feel like bullying.”

“I’m fine, Eds,” Steve snorted, clearly unbothered. “But thank you for your concern. Now let me get a better shot of you.”

Eddie sighed, but then relented and gave Steve a fond smile. “Fine.”

After his second bout with the creepy crawlies of the Upside Down last fall (Eddie’s first), Steve had taken to photography as a hobby, and started documenting everything he could in film. Steve said it helped with his nightmares, at first, to be able to look back on the group making good memories while trying to work through the shit ones. Eventually he admitted to Eddie that it was also because he wanted to capture everything good, in case they all died tomorrow.

Jonathan still did most of the heavy lifting there, but Steve carried his own camera around with him almost everywhere, now. Then, once they’d all started at Scoops, he’d swiped his dad’s Polaroid specially just to keep it in his work locker over the summer. He spent entirely too much money on film, despite Robin’s frequent protestations.

“Stop wasting all of your money on the same photos of the kids laughing at us in our uniforms,” she’d say every time Steve came back from spending his break in the camera repair shop restocking on film.

“It’s memories, Rob,” Steve would sigh and reload the camera. “You can’t put a price on those.”

Eddie and Robin would usually exchange a glance imparting their desire to give Steve a lesson in being poor, and pronto, but neither of them really had the heart to do it.

Steve loved that damn camera, though, and Eddie had long ago established that he couldn’t deny Steve anything. So Eddie sat back, trying not to be self conscious as Steve once more studied him through the lens of a camera. His favorite seemed to be trying to catch arty shots of Eddie blowing smoke out of his nostrils, and looking like the burnout that he was.

Much like the Scoops Cam stayed at work, the one Steve was using now tended to hang out on Eddie’s nightstand most of the time. It was a testament to how much time Steve spent at the trailer, if anything. The thought made Eddie smile, and Steve tutted happily at however it looked through the viewfinder. Eddie tried not to run away with delusions of grandeur about what that could mean, but he felt all warm over it anyway.

Eventually Steve seemed pretty satisfied with what he captured, so he set the camera aside, presumably for the next time he came over.

“You were grumpy today,” Steve said, waving the post-flirting Polaroid from earlier in Eddie’s face. Eddie slapped his hand away, but couldn’t keep his face straight. He couldn’t keep anything straight.

“I just don’t understand how you find that preppy asshole attractive,” Eddie said around a lungful of smoke, staring Steve down as best he could, considering they were sitting eye-to-eye on the floor.

“What,” Steve drawled, making grabby hands for the joint until Eddie passed it over. He seemed completely unbothered by the fact that Eddie found his crush on the Jazzercise guy distasteful. “You’ve never been attracted to a preppy asshole before?”

Just you, Eddie thought, grateful that the weed hadn’t loosened his lips enough to let the words spill out into the sticky-sweet ether between them. Eddie had been hopelessly in love with Steve for no less than eight months, now. But who was counting?

“Can’t say that I have,” Eddie lied. Though, was it technically a lie, if he didn’t think Steve was an asshole anymore? Eddie took the technicality and ran with it, but he almost thought there might’ve been a hint of disappointment on Steve’s face. Eddie told himself that was just wishful thinking on his part.

“I just think he looks nice in those shorts, is all,” Steve shrugged before finally taking a drag.

Eddie was really starting to think he’d miscalculated, opting to work the summer at Scoops. Not only was the job shit—the only non-Steve-and-Robin related reason he even remotely enjoyed it was because Erica would come in and boss everyone around, and he would give her shit about the evils of capitalism and watch her nose scrunch up—but it also required watching Steve flirt with and ogle all the customers, regardless of gender, and drive Eddie nuttier than a scoop of butter pecan over it.

The only reason Eddie had any semblance of sanity left was because Steve usually struck out. Or, pretty much always. It was almost like Steve was flirting badly on purpose, some days. And then he’d come home with Eddie anyway. They’d watch movies or get high, fucking around and making fun of whoever had worse sailor-hat hair at the end of the day. It was nice.

Eddie was a real goner, was the point, and he resented the aerobics instructor guy. And his shorts. Eddie had shorts, too, goddamnit.

“He’s not even gay,” Eddie scoffed, flopping backwards to lay flat on the floor of his bedroom. Sometimes he and Steve would lay sprawled across his bed, or stay in the living room where things felt safer, but tonight it was too hot to be anywhere but on the floor. At least down there, Eddie could catch a little bit of a draft from the rickety old air conditioner that was valiantly chugging along to cool the whole trailer. “He just likes watching sweaty women bounce around for a living.”

“Don’t talk about my soulmate like that,” Steve scoffed. He nudged Eddie’s hip with his foot, then laid beside him on the floor, facing in the opposite direction as Eddie. Steve propped his feet up on the bed, then twisted is face to look at Eddie’s, practically pillowing his head on Eddie’s chest as he did. He smirked like he was proud of his joke.

Eddie knew Steve was just kidding around. If anyone was Steve’s soulmate, after all, it was Robin. Eddie was almost used to that jealous demon that lived in the back of his brain, resenting his status as the spare friend in the trio. It was silly and Eddie knew it, especially since he loved the fuck out of Robin. But even in jest, Steve’s comment plunged Eddie into a river of envy. What about me? The demon cried, scraping along the recesses of Eddie’s mind and demanding to be acknowledged.

Eddie did his best to shush it, listening instead to the Judas Priest record he’d put on because somehow, someway, Steve had come to love it.

“Take me now, in your arms, let me rest, safe from harm,” Steve sang along to Hear Come the Tears. The lingering smoke made his voice scratch in just the right kind of delectable way that left the demon doing backflips in Eddie’s mind. “Oh I want to be loved.”

Another thing Eddie had learned about Steve, since his reformation of character had started sometime last year, was that he got handsy when he was high. He took one of Eddie’s hands into his own, then firmly pressed the joint into it. Steve didn’t let go when Eddie’s fingers grasped around it, either. Instead he started playing with Eddie’s rings.

“This one new?” Steve asked, voice low and buzzing right through Eddie’s ribcage.

It wasn’t new, but Eddie couldn’t blame Steve for thinking so. He hardly ever wore the bat carved of silver that Steve was still lazily twisting around Eddie’s index finger. It was one of the first rings he’d ever bought for himself, but once he got his bat tattoo, he thought maybe wearing the ring was overkill. Most of the time, anyway.

That all hardly seemed relevant when Steve was basically holding Eddie’s hand, and noticing little details about him that no one else ever did.

“No, but I don’t wear it much,” Eddie answered, hoping he didn’t sound as desperate as he felt.

“Pretty,” Steve hummed. He stopped playing with the ring and moved to tickle the back of Eddie’s hand with soft fingers, instead.

“It’s probably better suited for you, then,” Eddie admitted aloud, and Steve turned a bashful shade of pink.

That was the other thing about Steve when he got high. He was more prone to blushing.

“Alright,” Steve said with a sly grin, before slipping the ring off Eddie’s finger in a rush. Then he sat back up, crossing his legs beneath him as he put it on himself. He held his hand out in front of his face, assessing. “Oh, yeah. I like it.”

Steve had taken things much too literally, and Eddie saw fit to correct it.

“Gimme it back, you thief!” Eddie cried, snatching for Steve’s hand again. Steve was too quick for him, though, and all Eddie achieved was grazing his fingertips across the heated skin of Steve’s forearm as he dashed out of Eddie’s grasp.

Carefully, Eddie snubbed out what was left of the joint in the ashtray, then scrambled upright and dove at Steve.

For maybe thirty seconds, Eddie had the upper hand. He’d managed to get a grip around Steve’s wrist, and the hand that now housed Eddie’s stolen ring. But once Eddie realized he was practically straddling Steve’s lap, knees locked on either sides of his thighs in a death grip, Eddie was momentarily distracted from his goal. He fumbled sliding the ring off Steve’s finger, accidentally tossing it until it rolled under Eddie’s bed.

Instead of going after it, though, Steve took the opportunity to wrestle Eddie to the floor. In half a stuttered heartbeat on Eddie’s part, he was under the whole weight of Steve, wrists pinned in a surprisingly gentle but firm grip on either side of his head.

Steve laughed above him, pressed so close that Eddie could feel the way Steve’s chest contracted and then swelled again as he breathed. Eddie didn’t know where to look first—the flop of Steve’s hair that hung down between them, the curve of Steve’s perfect mouth, curling up in a self-satisfied smile, or the way Steve’s glassy eyes still sparkled as he looked down at Eddie with a quiet confidence that was driving him wild.

Eddie didn’t know how Steve was still this strong while impaired, but if he didn’t get out from under him soon, Eddie knew there’d be a problem somewhere south of his belt loops to deal with between them. He tried not to wiggle his hips too much as he attempted to break free of Steve’s grasp, but it was no use. Steve only smirked down at him, completely focused on Eddie’s face alone.

“I win,” Steve murmured, then deliberately let his gaze drop to Eddie’s lips.

Eddie felt like he might be hallucinating, to the point where he wondered if Reefer Rick had given him a particularly weird strain, or something, last time they did a deal.

Especially when Steve then darted his tongue across his own bottom lip, a brief flash of wet pink that left Eddie floating, despite being pinned to the ground.

“You—” Eddie began, but the creak of the trailer door opening shocked them both out of whatever had been brewing between them. Steve let go of Eddie in an instant, sitting up and running his hands through his hair as Wayne grunted out, “Ed?” from the living room.

“Back here, Uncle Wayne,” Eddie said, sounding completely dazed.

Wayne poked his head into Eddie’s room and smirked down at him, still sprawled on the floor and probably looking—and smelling—high as a kite. Then Wayne waved at Steve, and said, “When you get the munchies, don’t eat my chips.”

Wayne was gone as fast as he’d come, probably to watch TV and have a beer, but he’d altered the vibe significantly. Steve reeled in whatever had started to peek free just a few moments before, sighed, and snatched the bat ring from under the bed. He handed it back willingly.

“You can wear it,” Eddie tried, but Steve shook his head.

“It’s more your style, anyway,” he said, sounding a little sad about it. Eddie didn’t know what to say in reply, so he silently took the ring and slid it back on his finger.

“The chips might be off the table,” Eddie said, feeling a devilish grin creep onto his face and hoping it would draw Steve back out of whatever shell he’d shrunk into. “But he didn’t say shit about his banana popsicles.”

“I like the way you think, Munson,” Steve smiled back, then they both darted for the freezer in perfect sync.

———

For his next shift with Steve, Eddie was trying not to act weird after whatever the hell had happened in the trailer the night before. He was determined not to get distant or awkward about it, or make Steve feel self-conscious. He didn’t want to be too touchy afterwards either, though, and make Steve assume that Eddie was expecting anything from him.

But that didn’t mean Eddie wasn’t flirting. Eddie was a flirt by nature, after all. It would seem weirder if he didn’t.

“Ahoy, sailor!” Eddie heartily whistled in appreciation just when Steve arrived in all of his short-shorts glory—all in the name of keeping up appearances, of course.

Steve shuffled around a little uneasily in response instead of returning the sentiment, like he normally would have. Robin, who was sitting with Eddie at the table in the ‘captain’s quarters��, squinted at him in question. Eddie shrugged.

“Didn’t get enough beauty sleep?” she asked Steve.

“Huh?” he responded distantly, trying to fix his hat to his hair in a gentle enough way so it wouldn’t flatten what Steve thought was his best feature. (Eddie thought Steve’s best feature was probably his perfectly kissable mouth, or his big brown eyes that Eddie frequently found himself getting lost in, or even that little constellation of moles on his neck that Eddie wanted to bite. But that was neither here nor there.)

“You seem…fidgety,” Robin pointed out.

“Oh. I’m fine,” Steve tried for an unaffected shrug, but it looked more jerky and stilted than anything.

Eddie was doing his level best not to assume that was about him. But considering the fact that Eddie was almost certain Steve had wanted to kiss him the night before, even after the haze of smoke had cleared from his judgment making skills, he didn’t really think it was a coincidence.

Robin seemed to agree that this was between Steve and Eddie, as she started eyeing Eddie suspiciously again. If her face hadn’t been full of questions, Eddie would've assumed Steve had already told her what was going on with him. The fact that he hadn’t only worried Eddie further. Since when did Steve not share every thought in his head with Robin?

Had Eddie seemed too eager last night, maybe? Had Steve sussed out how deep Eddie’s feelings actually ran? Maybe now he wanted to put an extra bit of distance between them, because to Steve it wasn’t that serious. Eddie wanted to kick himself at the thought.

If distance was what Steve wanted, Robin wasn’t allowing for it. Her solution was to find every excuse to stick Eddie and Steve in the back room together most of the afternoon, doing tedious tasks while Robin worked out front. Her excuse was that it was a “slow day” anyway.

So Eddie tried to act as normal as possible in the hopes of signaling that everything between them was fine, whatever Steve’s worries might be. But every time Eddie tried to strike up a conversation, Steve didn’t give him much back by way of response.

“Do you know what happened after the kids snuck in to see Day of the Dead the other night?” Eddie asked, hoping the temptation to gossip might spur Steve into talking. One of their favorite topics of the summer so far had been speculating on what seemed like a gay little love triangle forming between Mike, Eleven, and Will.

“Not really,” Steve shrugged noncommittally.

“At the very least you’d think we might’ve gotten some innocent hand-holding,” Eddie mused.

“Maybe,” Steve merely grunted in response.

Eddie bit his tongue for a while after that, and began to consider if whatever was going on in Steve’s head had nothing to do with him at all. Eddie knew Steve’s parents were in town, and that usually led to most of Steve’s grumpiest moods. Maybe all he needed was the promise of not having to go back to a house he hated after getting off from a job he also hated.

“Hey, you wanna come over tonight?” Eddie offered eventually, then wondered if maybe he should give it more of a veneer of friendship, just in case. “We can probably entice Robin into coming if we let her pick a movie. You guys can stay over, even.”

“Maybe,” Steve finally smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Eddie thought he might finally be on the right track, but Steve dipped away again. “I should go check on Robin.”

Eddie tried not to pout in Steve’s absence.

He also wasn’t one to give up in the face of a frowning Steve Harrington, so for the rest of their shift he kept trying to do all the things he knew would make Steve laugh. At first, Steve didn’t seem all that impressed with Eddie’s walking him through the several layers of monstrous traps he was laying for the boys’ first official Hellfire campaign, so Eddie switched to stronger tactics. He moved on to his impersonation of Hopper going full Hulk and threatening to kill Mike in new and creative ways, which did earn a pinched smile out of Steve, at least.

But when Steve’s favorite bit—Eddie’s acting out his own mascot creation, Scoop, who was a pirate with spoons for fingers—didn’t do much more than eke a small chuckle out of him, Eddie was just about ready to throw in the towel and ask what the hell was the matter.

That was when they heard the unmistakable sound of Dustin Henderson’s arrival, however.

Steve turned to Eddie with wide eyes, matching Eddie’s in excitement. If Dustin’s long anticipated return from camp couldn’t cheer Steve up, nothing would.

“Steve, Eddie!” Robin called back to them both. “Your child is here!”

“Don’t act like you don’t love me, too, Robin Buckley,” Dustin said, accompanied by that bizarre purring noise he liked to make.

Steve and Eddie simultaneously sprung into action. Eddie led the way out of the swinging door to the front, with Steve hot on his heels and his hands squeezing Eddie’s shoulders in delight.

“Henderson!” They both chorused, as Dustin broke out in a wide, gummy grin upon seeing them. They all launched towards each other, and Steve quite literally squealed, “He’s back!”

Then the three of them immediately proceeded into their complex secret handshake, while Robin looked on in bewilderment. It didn’t matter how many times she’d seen them practice it in minute detail, apparently, it still made her wrinkle her nose in secondhand embarrassment.

Eddie didn’t care. He’d missed Henderson more than he ever expected he would have of a fourteen year old hellion, but Dustin had that effect on him and Steve both. In the months since they’d tracked down a baby fucking demogorgon together, the three of them had only grown further attached.

So when Dustin immediately jumped to exclaiming “We have so much to talk about,” Eddie and Steve didn’t hesitate to set aside the weird vibe between them and buy Dustin a USS Butterscotch.

Twenty minutes later, the two of them had listened to Dustin talk about his “camp girlfriend” ad nauseam, while exchanging a healthy amount of skeptical looks between them. Steve didn’t entirely seem to believe that Suzie was real, and Eddie was mostly with him, but there was something dreamy in the way Dustin talked that Eddie felt a kinship with.

It reminded him how he felt around Steve.

All that went out the window, though, when Dustin started yammering about intercepting secret Russian codes.

“We can be true, American heroes, guys!” Dustin finished his lengthy speech about saving the world, like he hadn’t done enough of that already.

Eddie was beyond skeptical now, but Steve seemed amused, so he played along.

“Heroes, eh?” Eddie asked, casually spinning his sailor cap around in his hands.

“Yes! It’ll be great, I swear. And once we are, you two can have all the ladies you want, and more. As long as her name isn’t Suzie,” Dustin promised them both. It was sincere, if admittedly a little creepy and off base.

Eddie darted a quick glance towards Steve, who obviously found the irony in Dustin’s promising the ladies to Eddie, of all people. He chuckled lightly as he gave Eddie a knowing look, like he was thrilled to know Eddie’s secrets, before breaking eye contact and turning back to Dustin.

“Yeah, alright,” he nodded. “How can we help?”

(part two should be coming with tomorrow's prompts!)

[PART TWO] [PART THREE]

[dailyexo]

Chen - 230515 'Before the Petals Fall' (꽃잎이 지기 전에) Music Video

Credit: 1theK.

[the-petals-fall]

I drew Happy

[andy-15-07]

You and me

PAIRING: Reed Richards x reader

WORD COUNT: 1047 | requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

The soft hum of the city outside their apartment window was the only sound accompanying them in the dimly lit room. Reed sat on the worn, comfortable couch, his arm draped lazily over the backrest, fingers occasionally brushing against Y/N’s shoulder. The glow from the streetlights spilled through the blinds, casting faint patterns on the walls. It was one of those rare nights—no missions, no emergencies, just the two of them tucked away from the world.

Y/N shifted slightly, resting her head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath the thin fabric of his t-shirt. “You’re quiet tonight,” she murmured, her voice soft, like a gentle nudge.

Reed’s fingers paused for a moment before resuming their absent-minded tracing. “Just thinking,” he replied, his tone reflective but warm.

“About what?” she asked, tilting her head to look up at him, her eyes catching the faint glimmer of light.

He hesitated, his gaze fixed on a distant point beyond the window. “About everything,” he admitted. “The team, the future... us.”

Y/N smiled gently, her hand finding his and intertwining their fingers. “That sounds like a lot for one night.”

Reed chuckled quietly, the sound vibrating through his chest. “It always is.” He turned to face her fully, his dark eyes softening as they met hers. “You know, being Reed Richards—Mr. Fantastic—it’s not just about stretching across cities or diving into other dimensions. It’s about holding everything together. The team, the mission, the world sometimes... but with you, it’s different.”

“Different how?” Y/N whispered, her heart fluttering at the earnestness in his voice.

“With you,” he said, squeezing her hand gently, “I don’t have to hold everything together. I can just... be.”

The words hung between them, heavy with meaning and unspoken promises. Y/N felt a warmth spread through her chest, a mixture of love and the weight of knowing what his life entailed. She reached up, her fingers brushing a stray curl from his forehead. “You don’t have to be anything more than Reed with me.”

He leaned into her touch, his eyes closing for a brief moment as if savoring the simplicity of her words. When he opened them again, there was a spark of determination there, a decision made in the quiet of the night.

“I’ve been thinking,” he began, his voice steady now, “about what comes next. Not just for the team, but for us.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean?”

Reed shifted, reaching into his pocket. For a moment, Y/N’s breath caught, her mind racing with possibilities. But instead of what she expected, he pulled out a small, worn notebook—the one he always carried for jotting down ideas and calculations. He flipped it open to a page marked with a small, pressed flower she’d given him months ago.

“I’ve spent so much time calculating risks and probabilities,” he said, his thumb brushing over the delicate petals. “But when it comes to you, there’s no equation, no formula. Just certainty.”

Y/N felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, the emotion swelling in her chest almost overwhelming. “Reed...”

He set the notebook aside, taking both of her hands in his now. “I don’t know what the future holds. The world could fall apart tomorrow, or we could be pulled into another dimension. But the one thing I know—the one constant in all of this—is you.”

The room seemed to shrink around them, the outside world fading into nothing as his words wrapped around her heart. Y/N could barely find her voice, but when she did, it was filled with unwavering conviction. “I’m not going anywhere, Reed.”

A slow, genuine smile spread across his face, the kind that reached his eyes and made the lines around them crinkle. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling in the small space between them.

“Then let’s make this official,” he whispered, his voice a blend of hope and love. “Be with me… not just now, but for whatever comes next.”

Y/N’s heart soared, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “Always.”

Their lips met in a kiss that spoke of promises and futures intertwined, a connection that stretched beyond the constraints of time and space. In that moment, it wasn’t about Reed Richards, the brilliant scientist or Mr. Fantastic, the superhero. It was about two people finding their anchor in each other amidst the chaos of the universe.

As their kiss deepened, Reed’s arms wrapped around Y/N, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. The warmth of his embrace, the steady beat of his heart against her chest, grounded her in a way nothing else could. When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads remained pressed together, breaths mingling in the quiet.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” Reed whispered, his thumb gently caressing the back of her hand. “You’re my constant, my grounding force. No matter what happens out there,” he nodded toward the window, “this… you and me… it’s what matters most.”

Y/N’s eyes shimmered with emotion. “And you’re mine, Reed. I don’t care about the chaos outside. As long as I have you, I have everything I need.”

Reed’s eyes softened even more, if that was possible. He reached up, cupping her face in his hands. “Then let’s make a promise.”

“A promise?” she echoed, her voice a soft whisper.

“No matter where life takes us, no matter what challenges we face, we’ll always find our way back to each other. Always.”

Y/N felt her heart swell with love and certainty. “Always,” she echoed, sealing their promise with another tender kiss.

They spent the rest of the night wrapped in each other’s arms, sharing whispered dreams and quiet laughter. The city outside continued its relentless pace, but inside their little haven, time seemed to slow, allowing them to savor every precious moment.

As dawn approached, casting a soft golden glow through the blinds, Reed pulled Y/N even closer, his lips brushing against her temple. “Thank you for being my anchor,” he whispered.

“And thank you for letting me in,” Y/N replied, her voice thick with emotion.

They drifted into a peaceful sleep, knowing that whatever the future held, they would face it together, their hearts forever intertwined amidst the vast, unpredictable universe.

[with-my-calamitous-love]

YOU’LL SEE ME IN HINDSIGHT

touya todoroki x reader

you spend one last night with your husband before he goes to battle shouto and endeavour.

angst/smut, mha official ending spoilers

part 1/3

inspired by wildest dreams

2 years of hiding. 2 years of silence. 2 years of putting the outside world on pause. 2 years of bliss.

to fall of the face of the earth with your beloved was possibly the most romantic thing you could have ever experienced. you existed in your own snow globe, dancing in circles round and round shielded from the outside world. but you both knew it wouldn’t be forever.

you had a quiet house on the countryside, surrounded by gorgeous acres of land. for you and touya, it seemed much to large for both of you. but acres of nature’s serene solitude provided the two of you enough time to escape from the world. you, at least, wanted to escape. for touya, it was more like purgatory. this is where he spent his time before death.

the backyard was perhaps your favourite part. you sat on the old wooden steps on the porch, eyeing the lush vegetation that seemed to thrive despite the ever-increasing fleetingness of the moment. soon, no one would pick the peaches from the trees, or harvest the sweet strawberries from the bushes. no one would admire the flowers that grew for miles or the sweet smell of life. no one would ever see the beauty of the land that touya todoroki loved you on.

you hear his creaky footsteps come up behind you, watching you as you watch the world- like you are his world. for a moment, he sees nothing.

“the magnolias.” words finally escape your lips.

“hm? whats that doll?” he asks.

you take a deep breath, prying your eyes away from the garden and finally turning to face your lover. your hand raises to point at the delicate white petals bundled together like a stanza.

“those ones over there. magnolias. they smell the sweetest.”

his blue eyes follow over to where you point as he sits down next to you. he simply nods, looking at the flowers you told him smelled the best.

a thought crosses your mind. you overheard him talking it over with shigaraki. you knew what tomorrow was. yet you were hesitant to let the words leave your mouth. you didn’t even want to dare it.

“…you know you’re going to die, right?”

the words leave your tongue like a curse.

at first, he looks over at you, bewildered by the statement. but touya isn’t dumb- he knows you can pick up on things. and he knows he isn’t dumb enough to wanna lie to you- though admittedly the lie is better. the lie is so much more comforting in this instance.

“…i know, doll.” touya tells the truth.

you don’t say anything, but your silence is perhaps the loudest thing he’s heard all day.

“its too late to give up on it now.” he says it like he’s trying to salvage it. as if theres any way to fix all the pain he hasn’t even caused you yet. he knows your grief is only inevitable.

“…thought so.” you sigh, getting up from the creaky wooden steps and moving back into your home. its a home that you and touya have built together. dirty rugs with tracks stained from his large black boots. your coat and his hanging from the door, his so much darker and larger than yours. the dirty bowls in the sink you have yet to wash, leftover from soba night. the memories, the dreams, the love. the world was about to see dabi, but for two years you got to love touya.

so many memories were suddenly engulfed in fire. dancing barefoot in the kitchen, trying on his coat that reached the floor on your frame, hugging him and feeling the warmth only he could give you. all of it was soon to be ash.

he follows you into the house, watching as you move about. he’s silent, since words always seemed to fail him when it came to you. theres a heavy tension that lingered in the house. soon, this wouldn’t be yours and touya’s home. soon, these walls would be haunted. soon, this would no longer be a home.

“you know theres no way you’re getting out of this alive, right?” you ask as if to confirm your worst fears. funny, since you already knew the answer.

“…as long as i take that old bastard down with me.” touya says, a familiar flicker of revenge ruminating in his brilliant turquoise eyes. perhaps love wasn’t meant to end suffering, after all.

and thats enough to make your voice resonate with that familiar crack of anguish.

“…what about me, touya..?”

he winces. he expected you to yell, to scream at him. to tell him how much of an asshole he is. how much you hate him. somehow, your strangled, quiet cry hurts more.

“you… you’ll be fine. you manage.” he’s lying through his teeth and you both know it.

what else could you say?

you turned away from him, walking upstairs to your bedroom. this was the room you loved the most. so many late nights and sunny, early mornings. god, getting to see him all tuckered out from the previous night, the deepest morning voice you have ever heard. his cheeky remarks, half lidded blue eyes looking into you. the way he pulls you back into bed, asking where the hell you think you’re going. all of that love was packing its bags and moving on.

he follows you again, not knowing what else to say but not wanting the conversation to end either. maybe he just didn’t want you and him to end, despite the fact that neither of you had a choice.

“i was never apart of your plan, was i?” your voice cracks again, asking him to confirm your deepest hurt. you knew it to be true. loving you was never something touya ever intended on doing. yet he stayed.

he only sighs, trying to find the right words. “i’m sorry. i never meant to drag you into this-“

“don’t be.” you quickly cut him off once you realize he’s not denying anything.

touya was a man of promises. he knows that he’s made a vow. a vow to bring endeavour down, to expose him for all the suffering he’s condemned him to. to show his father that he was the worst thing to ever happen to the flame hero. he branded that promise deep into his heart, and he had 0 intentions of letting it up now.

not even for you.

the sound of cooing causes both of you to stare out the window. there, perched on the window sill, are two doves- happily chirping to one another, unbeknownst of the pain just lurking behind the glass.

“you know, doves mate for life.” you say, looking at the smaller one nestling into the snow white feathers of its much larger companion.

“kind of romantic, isn’t it?” touya shrugs, also noting the way the two birds hold onto each other like nothing else matters. even with the ability to fly, to sore the sky and see the stars up close, the two birds loved each other like none of that was even remotely interesting.

“it is romantic.” you agree. “loving each other for the rest of their lives. even if that life is short.”

he quickly catches on.

touya swore he’d love you for the rest of his life. even if that life was too short for him.

touya watches the birds alongside you, their delicate, graceful forms seeming to symbolize something more than just a couple of birds resting on a window sill. they continue to coo quietly to each other, cuddling and nuzzling against each other, completely at ease and content with the love they’d found.

after a moment of silence, touya speaks up, his voice quiet and hesitant.

"you know i don’t want to leave you, right?”

wanting seemed irrelevant, here. it didn’t matter what you or touya wanted. fate was decided, against what either of you want.

“i know.” you say, solemnly. you rest your hands on touya’s side of the dresser, like a wounded soldier hanging his head low. your heart was hurting. by this time tomorrow, he’d be gone. the love of your life would be gone.

for a second, touya is lost in his own world of hate. he hates himself, more than he’s hated anyone in his entire life. he hates himself for letting you love him. he hates himself for having to leave you here, all alone, safe and stranded.

he’s then pulled out of his trance when he sees you in his drawer, holding the ring he’s kept hidden from you for months. a beautiful, silver ring with a sapphire as deep as the blue sea. alongside is his ring, just a simple, silver band. he mentally curses himself for not hiding it well enough.

his heart beats out of his chest, watching you slowly turn to him, holding the ring.

“you remembered i like sapphires.” you say, not a question but a statement. of course he remembered your favourite gemstone. touya remembered every little thing he loves about you.

“yeah… course i did, doll.” he says, as if its obvious he remembered.

he wishes he could actually cry when he sees you slip it onto your left ring finger. god, it fits you perfectly. his eyes remain mesmerized as you flex your fingers, seeing how it looks on you.

you legs carry you over to him, pulling him in close. you rest your hands on his chest and your forehead against his. touya’s scarred hands find their way to your waist, drawing you in as if to shield you from all the heartache thats to come.

“you know we can’t actually get married, right?” you dryly chuckle, your voice barely a whisper. “especially not legally.”

he hums in response. he’s well aware you two could never go down to a courthouse and officially commit to one another. “you think i care ‘bout that?” he manages a smirk. “i still wanna marry you. even if its just between us.”

“so, you’re really gonna turn me into a widow tomorrow hm?” you ask.

his blue eyes flicker down to your ring, his brain still unable to compute that its real. “i guess so.”

you smile, though theres an undeniable hint of sadness in your eyes that touya knows all too well.

“i know you don’t wanna leave me, touya.” you whisper, looking into his eyes, staring into his soul.

he physically feels his heart clench at your words. and at the look in your eyes, he feels a wave of emotion wash over him. he wants to reach out and take you into his arms, to hold you tight and never let go. but he can’t. he has to stay strong, no matter how weak you make his resolve.

“i.. i know i don’t want to leave you, i don’t want to leave you behind. but i have to. i have to do this. i have to take him down.” he says, gritting his teeth at the thought of that bastard.

“i hope you do.” you encourage. “fuck that guy.”

touya almost laughs at this, pressing his forehead against yours. “yeah. fuck that guy.”

“i… i hate him. i hate him for doing this to you. for turning you into this. for taking you away from me. from what we could have had.” you can’t help the tear that falls from your eye just thinking about it, thinking about what you lost. the husband you could have had, the kids, the future… all of that could only live on in your dreams, now.

touya’s eyes widen in surprise and pain at your words. he honestly hadn't thought about it like that before, hadn't considered how endeavour’s actions had impacted you, too. he knew that his hatred and need for revenge had caused a rift between the two of you, but hearing you say it out loud, seeing the pain in your eyes, it cuts straight to his heart.

he looks at you, his expression torn between anger and guilt.

"i’m sorry. i’m sorry I've put you through all this, doll. i’m sorry i let my anger and hate consume me. its all i know.” he says, closing his eyes. he can’t bare to watch you cry over something as pathetic as him.

“i… i think you’re a murderer. and a villain. touya.” you seethe. and he accepts that hatred from you, because he doesn’t deserve anything more or less.

“and i also think you’re a deeply traumatized person who was stuck as a kid who feels like nothing but a failure after, being in a 3 year coma.” you conclude your true feelings. he doesn’t say anything to that for a moment.

he knew that you saw him for what he was- a killer, a villain, a monster. but hearing you say it out loud, hearing you sum up his entire life, stung.

he tightens his grip on your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh slightly as he struggles to keep his emotions in check. he keeps his eyes averted, unable to meet your gaze.

“i know what i am. what I’ve become. i don’t know what else to do.” he says, defeated, like the end of a long battle.

“can you love me? is that an option?” your question is more of a plea than anything else. finally, he looks you in the eye, as if the answer to that question is obvious.

“you’re the only thing i think i’m capable of loving.” he admits, more to himself than to you.

“you’re the only thing thats made my life worth living. and im so fucking grateful. for you. and your love.” the way he says it like a goodbye hurts all too much. but its words you need to hear. making him feel love was an absolute honour.

you pull him close to you, wrapping your arms around his neck desperately. oh, to memorize the feeling of his body against yours as his strong arms circle your waist, pulling you up to match his taller frame.

“you’re the best i’ve ever loved.” you say.

“you’re the only thing i’ve ever loved.” he confirms.

“then spend one last night with me. as your wife. whatever you do in the morning is up to you, i don’t care, but just give this night to us.” he can’t deny the way you beg him- even though you don’t even have to ask. he was already planning on it, visualizing all the ways he was going to physically show you he loves you in the bed tonight. but he needs to make sure, first.

“are you sure you want that, doll? one last night?”

“what i want is forever, touya.” you clarify. “but if i can have just one last night, i think we can make it work.”

and once he’s gotten your consent, the rest of the night is set.

✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚

most think that guys can only fuck or make love- but touya gave you both and everything in between that night.

the way his hands roamed over every inch of your body like he was trying to etch himself onto you. god, the way his cock slid in and out of you at an unreasonably fast pace. he can’t help that he wants you, that he wants to be the only guy to ever throw you onto the mattress and fuck you till your absolutely spent all over him.

“fuck. yeah? ya like that doll?” he groans into your ear, the filthy sounds of skin slapping together filling the room. “gonna fuck you so good. god, your pussy is so fucking good.”

he has you on your back, turquoise eyes drinking in the way your eyes roll to the back of your skull. to say it looked absolutely filthy was an understatement, but to you two and just you two, this was how you showed love. touya was never a man of words- sure, he could tell you that he loves you, that he wants you, and that he doesn’t want to leave you, but you both already know that. so he lets his actions speak for him: spreading your legs to opposite sides of the room, playing with your pussy until your absolutely gushing, and not even daring to stop even when you can barely form a coherent sentence. he loves how he gets you like this. because he fucks you until your sobbing- partly from the mind melting pleasure, and partly from the fact that you know you’ll never find a cock this good ever again.

and touya’s not usually a huge biter or a kissed, but god, does he go crazy over the way you scream when he sinks his teeth in. and he won’t stop at a few nicks- you’re funny. the way he loved you is agonizing. loving you manifests as an all-consuming entity. he’s driven wild by the pleasure, and he wishes he could just have you whole right now.

if theres one thing you learned from loving touya, its that the idea of love being just a feeling, a simple chemical in the brain, was simply incorrect. no. love is not a feeling. love cannot be summed up into a simple 7 letter word. love took over your senses, the sight, the ears, the touch, the smell and especially the taste. you honestly wished touya would just consume you. and not just for lust or for petty desires. you wished to become a part of him. he wanted to taste your flesh against his lips like it was god damn salvation. let his being be apart of yours as his lips bless your skin, begging for another bite. let him feel something that is so wrong yet so right. let him want something that feels too good to be true. because its him. god, the way he loves you as if he’s savouring the rhythm of your heart- only he makes it beat that way. he watches, absolutely mesmerized as your fluids drip down your thighs, watching how he makes you melt. in the end, the two of you are reduced to nothing but empty space. because you were touya’s favourite part of himself.

you scream his name until his throat runs dry, as he continuously chases the feeling of your velvet walls clenching around his cock. god, the way he feels when your nipples slide over his pecs. how you scratch down hid back, how he actively has to keep his quirk in check as not to burn you- not that you’d mind a brand in the shape of his hand. he’s already left his fingerprints all over you, anyway.

“p-please! ah! don’t stop!” you moan for probably the 100th time. not that touya’s complaining, he loves your desperate side. he loves that he’s the one who can coax it out of you.

you’ve lost track of how many times you’ve come. from his fingers, to his mouth, to his cock that felt like it was shaped especially for you. your thighs tremble around his waist desperately, begging him to pull yet another orgasm out of you. and touya happily obliges. he loves to fuck you till all you can think of is him.

he can feel himself unraveling, wanting nothing more than to see his cum dripping down your beautiful pussy. he knows that this is the last chance he’ll have to take you like this. and when you arch your back and scream ‘TOUYA!’ at the top of your lungs, he loses it.

the groan he lets out in your ear as he finally releases himself into you is mouthwatering. warm, thick, ropes of his seed stuffing you to the absolute brim. you feel your toes curl and your mind blank, only being able to focus on the sensation of his love melting away every single worry or doubt in your mind. the way the sweat from his and your body forces you two to stick together as he holds you against him, helping you come down from the intense high.

his body collapses down beside you, mustering all his leftover energy to pull you closer to him. he pulls the blanket over you and him, like cementing his rightful place next to you, holding you in his arms.

“could lay here with you forever.” he utters, somewhat hoping you won’t catch what he says.

“i wish you would.” of course you catch on.

he pulls back slightly to look you in the eye. having you here, hair sprawled out, in his arms. you’re covered in the evidence of him like your a crime scene- his favourite crime at that.

his heart clenches at the thought of tomorrow. that at this time in 24 hours, he won’t be with you anymore. and that made him want to scream.

your hands move up to cradle his chin, brushing your thumb over his lower lip. your voice is rasped from your recent activities as you ask your question: “can i ask you something?”

“anything, doll.” he says confidently.

you inhale deeply. “can… can you feel me here?”

you motion to his burnt lower lip, and then to his patches of purple, burnt skin, barely holding itself together. its a question you’ve wondered for years, yet have always feared the answer.

his silence is nerve wracking, before finally answering.

“yeah. i can.”

even then, you’re not convinced.

“even when i kiss you?” your voice is barely above a whisper.

he leans in closer, as if its important to him that you hear this.

“you’re the only person that makes me feel things, doll. yes, i can feel you.”

he inhales again, knowing that he needs to ask you this sooner or later.

“promise me something, babygirl.”

“anything.” you nod.

“promise me… promise me that when i walk out that door tomorrow. promise me you’ll find some other guy. someone that makes you happy and protects you. that..”

that loves you like he does. but touya knows that no one will ever love you like he does.

to say your heart shattered at that was an understatement. how could you ever even think of finding another man, when your heart irrevocably belonged to touya todoroki?

“…is that what you want?” you asked, still shocked.

the question hits him like a punch to the gut. no, he absolutely, unequivocally does not want that. the thought of someone else with you, loving you, holding you, being with you… it makes him sick to his stomach. no, he can’t even bare the thought of someone being tangled with you like this. dreaming of you like he does. loving you with a love so bright it burns- it made him sick.

and when he thinks of that. of you moving on without him.. selfishly, so fucking selfishly, it makes him want to burn the world down. because if it’s nothing but ash, no one will get to have you, even he’s gone. maybe to love him meant burning it all down, anyway.

and for a moment, he's tempted, so very tempted, to say no, to tell you that he wants you to never move on, to tell you to love him and only him, selfish as it may be. but he can't. not when he knows he never even deserved you in the first place.

"…yes."

and you have the audacity to scoff.

he looks on confused, and a little offended. what was so audacious in this moment it had you laughing?

“touya.” you call his attention. his blue eyes never even left your sight as he nods.

“do you honestly think love just ends when you leave?”

it stumps him, for a moment. like his heart stuttering at the thought. he tries to figure out where you’re going with this as he answers.

“no. i don’t.” he affirms.

“exactly.” you say. “it doesn’t. in fact, i don’t think i’ve loved you any more than i do right now. love is felt the strongest when its leaving.”

your words do more to him than he’d like to admit. he gulps.

“so even right now, you love me?”

the answer to that should have been obvious.

“i’m never not loving you.”

he manages a dry chuckle, pressing his forehead to yours. god, he wishes he could have this forever. but he knows a demon like him can’t enter heaven.

so for now, he embraces you fully, rubbing circles onto your back and hushing you to sleep. the cool air blows through the room, so he shields you with his body, wanting you to feel nothing but the warmth and the comfort you deserve. he may not be the guy you deserve, but he sure as hell can protect you like he his.

and for what might be the last time, he savours the way your lips bless his in a kiss. your the only name on his lips, the only one that could ever feel what its like to love him.

he feels his heartbreak as you fall asleep. he hopes you dream of him. dreams are so much happier.

“…i’m never gonna stop loving you.” he whispers.

and with that, touya falls asleep.

[sashaisready]

Valentine's Disaster

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Bucky is determined to give you the Valentine's Day he believes you secretly want, it's the least you deserve. Unfortunately, things don't go quite to plan...

This is a sweet little fic I've been working on for Valentine's Day, hope you enjoy! As always, comments and reblogs are appreciated. Happy V-Day to you all in this lovely community! ❤️

One shot / allusion to smut but nothing explicit / Bucky is trying, ok?!

Wordcount: 2.6k

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February 12th

He hasn’t ‘done’ Valentine’s Day in the best part of a century, and back in the days when he did, it was a handwritten card and a box of candy for the girl you liked. Simple, sweet. An excuse to go dancing and make-out.

But now? The shops are awash with pink and red, large hanging signs in the aisles are practically screaming at him ‘not to forget!’

And how could anyone forget? It’s a full-on assault of the senses. Enjoy this Valentine’s limited-edition doughnut! Buy those matching heart-print pyjamas for you and your valentine! Buy perfume! Flowers! Teddy bears the size of toddlers! Enough chocolate to take down an elephant! Take a couples’ trip, book a romantic spa day, spend a rent payment on roses! He’s seen cards meant for pets, cards from pets. As if Alpine would ever entertain such nonsense, even if she could read. Every time he runs errands, he feels like his brain might fall out. 

Thankfully, home is an oasis of calm. He sits on the couch half-watching some documentary while your head lays in his lap, scrolling idly on your phone. Alpine is curled up across your legs, occasionally purring in her blissful sleep as you give her a head an absent-minded scratch. 

He runs his metal fingers through your hair without even noticing he’s doing it – muscle memory at this point, basking in the comfortable silence - a private sanctuary from the outside world. The world he still doesn’t fully understand. The man out of time.

But you, you he understands. It all moved quickly, sure. But when you know you know, don’t they say? He sees that now. He saw that on your first date. Watching you laugh, your eyes sparkling - he was sorry that he zoned out while you told him that funny anecdote, but he just couldn’t stop looking at you.

He knew he was in trouble. 

First date. First kiss. More dates. Inseparable, easy. Like visiting somewhere new for the first time but somehow knowing exactly where to go. Maybe moving in together after six months had been hasty, sure. But it just felt right. 

No logic, just a feeling. He’d wasted so much time, so much life - why waste even more? ‘You’re here all the time, anyway, why not just make it official?’ Yes. Yes, you’d love to. Your clothes moved into his closet as smoothly as you’d moved into his life. It was as if you’d always been there. Kitchen dances and late-night chats. New recipes, old sweatshirts. Gymnastics in the bedroom. One failed attempt at a shared bubble bath that had gone so badly wrong you’d both laughed until big, fat tears rolled down your cheeks. Misjudging just how much room he took up, easily done. So much for romance, you had joked. 

But it was romance for him. 

And what about for you? 

You hadn’t been together for a Valentine’s Day yet. Sure, he’d bought flowers and cooked for you before. You had shyly thanked him and kissed his cheek. But you didn’t need big gestures, you’d told him. Didn’t care about giant teddy bears or rose petal trails. ‘Make me a good cup of coffee, fix the leaky sink and keep the oil in my car topped up and I’ll be happy’ you’d said. Well, he could do all that. And he did. He took care of you and your home. You’d told him once that his love language for you was acts of service, which meant he liked doing things for you – practical help. Fixing, bringing, making. He didn’t know about all that, but he knew he would always look after you. He wasn’t always the best at words and romance, but his actions spoke for him when he didn’t know how to say it.

He’d bought you a card. A silly one. One to make you laugh, about pancakes. Not one of the vulgar ones, some of the sentiments he’d seen printed made him wrinkle his nose. He was no prude, but his Ma would’ve turned in her grave at some of them. Not everything needed to be an innuendo. He’d already written a note inside it. A little sappy, but he meant every word. He’d also planned to pick up a bouquet of pretty flowers, maybe take you to lunch out at your favourite coffee shop. 

But now he glances down and sees what you’re looking at on your phone. You’re scrolling that photograph app, the Instagram one. It’s not for him but he doesn’t mind. It’s cute when you post a picture of your coffee on there, even if he teases you for it. 

You must be on a Valentine’s trend. Trend, is that what they call it? Hashtag? He watches you flick through endless pictures and videos…rose petals scattered on immaculate bedspreads, champagne glasses posed perfectly against a sunset backdrop, endless hauls of flowers and chocolate, balloons stretched to spell out names. Perfectly put together young women posing coyly and peering through their lashes, showing off diamonds and designer handbags...

…is this what you really wanted? You’d never said…but you were looking at those pictures so intently…

Had he really got it so wrong?

His heart sank as he imagined your disappointment. A jokey card? Lunch at the same old place you always went? Is that all he’d done for you on this apparent big day?

Maybe the stores were right.

You wouldn’t say anything, of course. You’re too sweet for that. Too empathetic, never wanting to hurt anyone’s feelings. But he pictured the dismay in your eyes at his meagre offering and felt a physical ache in his chest. He’d never want to disappoint you, to let you down. 

He slowly got up from the couch, carefully cradling your head to put you back down onto the cushions as he slipped away.

“Just starting dinner, doll,” he muttered as he headed to the door. 

“Okay baby,” you replied distractedly - your eyes still on your phone. Alpine miaowed in protest at the sudden change in movements. You scoffed at the latest image, a hotel room decorated ceiling to carpet with helium balloons and ribbons - practically fit to burst. “What a waste of plastic,” you exclaimed to yourself. “Who really needs all of this? What a joke…”

“What did you say?” Bucky called from the kitchen. 

“Nothing important,” you called back as you shifted Alpine and got to your feet, flinging your phone back onto the couch. That was quite enough hate scrolling for one evening.

“Buck, I’m coming to help”. 

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February 14th

“Fuck!” he muttered to himself as yet another balloon popped. He kept overstuffing them, underestimating how much air his lungs could hold as he blew them up. Super soldier problems. 

He sighed and gathered the few intact balloons, spreading them around the living room. There weren’t as many as he’d have liked, but they would do. 

Next, he eyed the banner, sagging down at the corners after his ill-fated attempt to hang it. He thought a hand-made banner was a bit much, but Sam had insisted it would tie everything together. DIY decorations show you’ve made the effort, he’d said.

He squinted up at the carefully drawn letters, HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY. The paint was a little uneven, and he cursed himself for not being better at crafting. The smattering of glitter in his hair was further proof of that. But it was up there, at least.

Sam had better know what he’s talking about.

You were due home from work any moment, he’d spent the last few hours rushing around trying to give you the Valentine’s Day you apparently secretly wanted. Dinner was nearly done, rose petals had been sprinkled from the hallway to the living room, champagne chilled, and the largest teddy bear he could find sat staring at him from your favourite armchair. 

He frowned; it all seemed a bit much. But he reminded himself he was doing it for you. He’d do anything for you. He’d walk through fire if he had to, swim an ocean. He could handle a few balloons and a fancy dinner if it made you happy.

Speaking of dinner…what was that smell?

Oh…fu-

He rushed into the kitchen and grabbed a dish rag, fanning the smoke away as he cursed and popped a window. He flung the oven door open and pulled out the now charred dish with his vibranium hand. He cursed more, cursed louder, slamming the dish onto the stove top as he tried to figure out what the hell had gone so wrong. After all, he’d followed the recipe to the letter…

He looked at the oven and quickly saw his mistake - he must’ve knocked the temperature dial somehow as it was turned significantly higher than it should’ve been. Great. No wonder everything was burnt to a crisp. He angrily switched it off and stared at the mess he’d made. What the hell was he going to do when you got-

“Babe, I’m home- happy Valentine’s Day! Wait, what the-?” Came your voice from the hallway as the front door opened.

Fuck.

“Buck, what’s going on - did something burn? Are those rose petals?”

He sheepishly moved into the hallway. You lit up as you saw him, smiling as you took off your coat. “Hey you, what’s going on in here?”

“I tried to make you dinner,” he sighed. “Didn’t go to plan, I’m sorry…”

You smiled warmly and moved to him, kissing him sweetly as you brushed your hands over his chest. “Oh Buck. That’s okay. Thank you…that’s very sweet of you. Don’t be upset, it happens - we can order in”.

Your reaction simultaneously filled him with relief but also a sense of self-loathing. He’d messed it up already, he’d let you down. You looked relaxed, but he wondered if you were secretly disappointed.

“What is all this?” you giggled as you followed the petals. “Don’t tell me you did all of this for me…”

As the trail guided you into the living room, you gasped at the scene in front of you. Your heart nearly burst at the effort he’d put into all of this. “Oh, Buck! It’s…”

But before you could finish your sentence, disaster ensued.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion and all at once. The banner collapsed suddenly, curling at the edges before crumpling to the ground with a quiet thunk – somehow taking out the champagne flutes along with it, knocking them to the floor and shattering them. Almost simultaneously, another balloon popped – causing you both to jump.

And the absolute cherry on the cake?

Alpine, who had been carefully studying the giant teddy bear in the armchair the whole time, leapt up on top of it…

…and began humping it.

“Oh. Oh my god…” you whispered.

“Oh, my god,” Bucky echoed with horror. “Alpine, stop that!”

His chest ached, shame washed over him as he looked at the failure of a Valentine’s Day in ruins around him. He couldn’t give you the day you’d really wanted, the day you deserved. He turned to you, preparing himself to have his heart broken by your disappointed face.

Except…

…you were laughing.

You were shaking silently, your hand over your mouth as you tried to restrain yourself. But you were clearly laughing. You looked back at him guiltily.

“I’m so sorry Buck,” you whispered, your voice strained, “I know you worked so hard on all of this…I promise I’m not laughing at you…”

He glanced around the room at the warzone of his living room – the broken glass, the buckled banner, the remnants of pink balloon rubber, the smell of burning in the air, Alpine’s shameless amorous activity…

It started as a tickle in his throat, a twitch of his lips – and then a hesitant chuckle escaped. And then another. And then both of you were gone, laughing uproariously as you leaned on each other for support. Bent over, hands on knees, desperately trying to regain some sense of composure as hysteria reigned. Loud, hearty laughter filling the room – becoming high squeaks as you both tried to catch your breath.

Alpine, unimpressed by this egregious interruption, finally stopped her assault and left the room indignantly.

“I’m sorry,” you finally managed breathily as your thumb wiped a tear from your lash line. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m grateful, really, I am – this was so sweet of you. I’m sorry it didn’t go to plan; I know you must’ve worked really hard on it…”

“It’s okay,” he replied as he took a deep breath. “I guess I’m not great at this stuff. But look,” his tone shifted to something more serious as he took you by the shoulders and held you close, “I’m sorry I fucked it up. I know you wanted the whole Instagram Valentine’s thing…”

You cock an eyebrow in confusion, “what? Says who?”

“I saw you,” he admits sheepishly. “Looking at all the Valentine’s stuff on your phone. I know you wouldn’t say anything, but I was trying to surprise you. I’m just sorry I couldn’t give you what you wanted.”

You sigh as realisation hits you, taking his hands in yours as you rub your thumbs soothingly over his knuckles. “Baby…I didn’t want that stuff, I was just hate-scrolling. That’s not me, you know I don’t really care about all that junk…”

His eyes widen. “You don’t?”

“No! It’s all performative, it doesn’t really mean anything. I just wanna be with you…I’d have been happy with just a card…”

As if on cue you notice the little envelope on the side table with your name on it. You pick it up and open it.

“Oh, it’s dumb…” Bucky shrugs. “It’s just because we always make breakfast together…”

You giggle at the cute image on the front of the card and flick it open to read.

Doll,

Getting to make pancakes with you in our apartment is honestly a life that didn’t seem possible until recently. Thank-you for showing me what love is.

Happy Valentine’s Day, here’s to the first of many.

All my love,

Bucky x

You smile, the tears forming in your eyes as you clutch it to your chest like it’s your prized possession.

“Thank-you, it’s perfect,” you tell him softly as you pull him closer.

The two of you hold each other for a moment, then move in for a saccharine kiss. You press your foreheads together and stand there like that for a while, basking in the warmth of each other – serene in the stronghold of your home, despite the Valentine’s debris around you. Bucky feels relief that he didn’t let you down, finally at ease again.

You look around the room with your hands on your hips, your expression thoughtful as Bucky recognises your ‘action mode’.

“Okay, well I’ll go get your card…and you clean up that glass so Alpine doesn’t walk in it…and then rather than order in - how about we cook something else for dinner?” you tell him softly as you press a kiss to his cheek.

“Yeah? What you thinking?” he grins.

“Pancakes”.

“Perfect,” he nods, then his hand glides down your lower back as his voice drops. “And maybe later I can make it up to you in the bedroom…”

“Well, you don’t need to make anything up to me…but I wouldn’t say no to an offer like that…” You flirt as you bite your lower lip. His hand travels lower…

“Happy Valentine’s Day, doll”.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Buck”.

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[lilybecca1]

Oh my God. If this ain't canon then idk what is.

THE CHERRY BLOSSOM PETALS-

And right after All Might says that the suit was funded with Bakugo at the heart of it 😭 like that look in his eyes, do y'all see it too

That's the realization that he's in love and no one can tell me otherwise.

It's the moment he realizes that they didn't leave him behind and that his Kacchan was the one at the heart of all of it. (Also, the way "with young Bakugo at the heart of it" is worded kind of feels like a reference at all that heart symbolism between them, like the "control your heart" one. Seems like they wanna hint at something by using the heart symbolism again 🤔 hmmmm maybe that they LOVE each other and their hearts belong to each other, huhh? Haaaaaah?)

There are so many arts with the two of them together under cherry blossom petals and I just can't-

And yeah people can argue that there are also petals falling in this panel:

But the cherry blossom doesn't only mean love, it also symbolizes end and new beginnings, and that's exactly what this panel about.

However, there is a superstition that says that catching three cherry blossom petals will make your wish of love come true.

Well, well, well...

Isn't it so coincidental that we have an official art showing literally the exact same thing?

And people have pointed out before that Bakugo has already caught a petal here, which means on some level he has already realized his feelings for Izuku, while Deku still hasn't caught up on it yet.

Well, ladies and gentlemen.

The time has finally arrived. All it took was the realization that Kacchan never gave up on him.

There are three petals on the panel that come seemingly out of nowhere. Seems oddly specific, doesn't it? Well, all I can say is: We won, guys.

[fanaticsnail]

Sooo if we’re doing yandere can we please get some yandere katakuri ?

It's been a little while since I've written for our dear Katakuri, and I wanted to see how this would play out. Thank you for your ask! 🖤🐌

Safety

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 1,700+

Synopsis: As housekeeper to Charlotte Linlin, Katakuri saw you as part of his family. He is obsessed with ensuring you are safe, being a human so much smaller than he was and around such a large family. He is doing all of this, just to ensure your safety. Sometimes that means following you home and watching you from outside your bed chambers.

Themes: yandere!Katakuri x gn!reader, yandere trope, hinted nudity, showers, obsessive tendencies, obsessive behaviours, almost kissing, confessions of love.

Notes: I have only written a few fics for Katakuri, but I adore the big guy. I hope you don't mind him with a little bit of obsession over his features.

Tag list: @gingernut1314 @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @indydonuts @feral-artistry @sordidmusings @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @i-am-vita

Amber lights illuminate and press over your skin the moment you enter into your living space within the servants quarters of his mother’s bed chambers. The soft crack of your fire popped and caused you to jump and giggle at the soft interruption. Slowly removing your apron and overcoat, you placed your uniform in your wicker basket for washing on your day off tomorrow.

As housekeeper and confidant to Charlotte Linlin, you were never far from the source of vengeance and wrath from the larger woman. Your body was pushed to the limits when preparing her pastries, fudges and cakes, and was also subject to aiding her in her daily routine: preparing her facial features with paints and powders, and dressing her in her garments for the day.

You were so small in comparison, so frail and meek when compared to the giants who lorded the land. So defenseless and helpless should Linlin express her disdain and wrath physically directed at you. You needed a loyal guard dog, a protector, a warrior to ensure your safety within the grounds and an escort to your suite.

At least, that's what Katakuri told himself you needed. And he was more than willing to provide such a service.

His ruby gaze trailed your body from his position sitting on the ground with his back pressed against the tree outside your window. His lips were partially parted, his eyelids falling to half-mast as his desire for you only grew and grew the longer you served his mother.

You were so small, he could wrap his fist around you in one hand. He wanted to keep you safe, to keep you secure, to ensure you would never go wanting for anything as his mother’s young confidant. He loved his family, and as such: you were an extension of such a title as someone residing in such close quarters.

This had become his nightly ritual: going about his day as earl of flour, writing to officials within his mother's vast nakama, ensuring her title as Yonko remained intact and secure, and following you home to ensure your safety from a distance to not alarm you at the end of your shift with his mother. You were so precious to him, so innocent and pure within Komugi Island.

As you rid yourself of your daily attire and readied yourself for your nightly bath, a warm tint of pink dampened Katakuri’s cheeks with the flood of blood pooling within. He told himself this was private, something you didn't mean to be seen by another individual, and he begged his eyes to pull away from gazing up at you. But the longer he looked, the more he longed.

His sharpened canines began to shake and chatter against one another as he consumed your form, telling himself he was truly ensuring you were safe from any who wished to do you harm. His gaze continued to hold over you as you stepped within the shroud of your bathroom walls. Steam exited the vents from the cement wall beside your quarters, the scents of citrus, flower petals and eucalyptus flooding his nostrils while picturing the lather of bubbled suds over your skin.

Shaking his head, he cast all impure thoughts away from him as he fixed his eyes on the ground in front of him. He was your knight for the night, not some pervert attempting to peek into your bed chambers in hopes of meeting with your bare flesh. He was here to keep you safe from those who lurked in the dark, not to have you fear him more for his actions.

A hum called him away from his thoughts, the familiar tune you would sing to yourself every night ringing out in perfect pitch. Closing his eyes, he allowed the moment to be shared with him as his own deep baritone hummed the counterpart along with you. His soul began to mourn your meeting, crave your contact, and yearn for a simple touch that his obsession with ensuring your safety was not to be misinterpreted as lust.

At the last thought, his eyes snapped open. His pupils narrowed, his brow furrowed, and his sharp teeth grimaced at such horror. He was not in love with you, this was truly about keeping you safe. He did not want to hold you, kiss you, consume you and ravish you with romantic intensity that could rival all others.

Did he?

As you stepped out of your bathing quarters in a fluffed robe and your hands drying your hair with a plush towel, it truly dawned on him. Watching your smile grow as you began to dress yourself in comfortable sleepwear and sat by the fire to heat your hair and dry your scalp with book in hand, he truly was struck in the chest like his trident in the thick of battle.

He did want all of those things with you. He was in love with you. Truly, deeply, and painfully in love with you. His love for you propelled him to do these things, to keep you safe, to shepherd you from harm, to check the future with his haki to ensure no slip ups resulted in your pain. He loved you with every chasm of his chest, and vein that coursed through him.

As his eyes drew up once he had dealt with this internally, you were gone. Panic coursed through him, his heart fluttering and immediately readying himself to prepare to fight whoever stole you from his sights. Standing to his full height of seventeen feet and hardening his stance, he was shocked once again at the opening of your front door and your form glaring at him with an unwavering gaze.

“Are you going to tell me why you are following me, lord Charlotte?” your chastising hum slashed into him with invisible blades, holding him both hostage and accountable for his nightly routine.

Taking several moments of being held beneath your scrutiny, Katakuri took a lengthy inhale before exhaling his woes.

“I swore to myself to keep you safe,” he confessed, lowering his eyes and buckling his knee to kneel before you and fall at eye height, “And safe is where you will be, with me ensuring it.” He continued to hang his head, his nose and lip remaining hidden beneath his furred shroud.

“Safe from what? The shower and my bedroom?” you press him, walking forward with your robe flowing at your knees and parting slightly with each step. “Lord Charlotte, I know you have been following me for several months now. I have never felt safer, but,” you finally reach him, his large head the size of your torso and hidden from you beneath his plum-colored hair, “I am lost for reason as to why you are doing this.”

He froze, feeling your body so much closer than he was accustomed to experiencing, inhaling the scents you had washed yourself with in the shower so close, and consumed with longing for you. He didn't want to lie, but he was growing wary of how you would interpret the truth from him. Biting back his nerves, he scrunched his eyes tightly shut and slowly whispered out his hushed confession.

“Because I am in love with you,” he waited with baited breath, making himself as small as possible by deepening his lunge and hanging his head lower.

Your soft hand cradled his cheek, lifting his eyes to meet with yours and revealing his sharpened teeth to you for the first time. He was overcome with panic as your eyes darted immediately to his lips, but his panic softened into confusion as all he was met with was a gentle smile and a warmness in your eyes.

“Forgive me,” he mouthed, his voice lost to him the longer you cradled his larger cheek, “I do not wish to frighten you. I just-... I just wanted nothing more than to keep you safe from all harm.” He darted his eyes between yours, his gaze somewhere between consumed with humility, and plagued with an underlying argument with himself, “You are so special to me.”

“There is nothing to forgive, lord Charlotte,” you lulled your head to the side, continuing to examine his features and darting over his stooped body, “And I can say I have grown a fondness for you too. I think it's due to the fact I always know where I go, you're only a few feet behind me. It's a comfort, truly.”

Stepping closer to him, you cup the other side of his face within your small hand and smile down at him in his low kneel. You raised his chin, prompting him to angle his face higher up to take in your form without filter or shroud of the fact that he truly loved you.

“All that remains is where we go from here,” you giggled down at him, the hum of your voice ringing like a soft, pleasant bell in his ears and raising a smile over his lips.

“In what way do you mean?” he asked, his ruby eyes half lidded and longing for more from you. Inching down closer to his lips, you hover yours over his and whisper in a smooth and sultry tone.

“Well, lord Charlotte, I am unsure if my living quarters are truly safe,” you smiled down at him, his lips parting as they shuddered forward in anticipation of meeting with yours. “Can you come inside and check them for me?” You pull away from his face and gaze down into his eyes, “That is what you were ensuring, correct? My safety?”

Charlotte Katakuri’s eyelashes fluttered with a soft stuttered blink, never truly widening them once reopening. He was consumed with pride at the notion you wanted to keep him with you, finally receiving permission to continue his nightly task of ensuring your protection from a closer vantage point.

“If that is what you so desire,” he whispered in response, slowly leaning into your touch with his chin before pulling away from your grip entirely, “I would never leave you fearing for your safety. Please, lead me on and show me where you feel the most frightened.”

Slowly raking your eyes over his features, your gaze turned hungry and possessive to mirror his own features.

“I can admit, I am plagued by nightmares of late, my lord,” slowly drawing your fingers down to tease at the chest-lining of your bathrobe. A slow, unintentional and protective growl rose up in Katakuri's chest as his lust now blackened his irises. Rising to his feet, he extended his right hand out to you and purred down from his impressive height.

“Then we shall start in your bedchambers.”

[azen13]

CW: Yandere Themes Thinking abt Yandere!Neuvillette with a Sovereign!S/O who seeks asylum in Fontaine after years of hiding in Teyvat from the Fatui, Celestia, etc...

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

The moment you enter the Palais Mermonia, Neuvillette feels your presence; like when the sun peaks through a blanket of clouds on an overcast day, something heavy falls off from his soul, like a curtain opening. His office doors open and you find yourself face-to-face with the only being like you in this land.

Of course Neuvillette can't just drop any of his appointments or cases, so he asks you empathetically to wait out in the lobby until his lunch break. Before he returns to his office, he asks one of the Melusines working to keep an eye on you and to make sure you don't get hurt or run off. His fingers twitch as he takes one last look at you, his eyes searching deep into your soul.

When he's finally finished with all his paperwork and met with several people, he ushers you in his office, his face imperceptible. Beneath his human facade, there are currents of emotions pushing against one another like boiling water: protectiveness, anxiety, fear, jubilance, relief. Neuvillette asks you if you want something to eat. Some water from Monstadt to go along with it, maybe?

He lets you tell your story and listens patiently. His expression, perfected over the course of hundreds of thousands of trials, stays perfectly intact, but the tides of his heart lurch as you tell him about all the atrocities committed to you.

The waters roar, and the dragon stirs.

When you ask for asylum and protection he is quick to agree. Very quick. Almost immediately he promises to set you up with a comfortable apartment, a simple job at the Palais organizing papers, some Mora to help you buy clothes, and whatever else you might need. He has to return to work, unfortunately. But he asks again if you can stay in the Palais Mermonia until he is done with work—or at least his official work—for the night.

Your agreement is the most beautiful sound he has ever heard.

The rest of the day, Neuvillette cannot think. There is an permanent indentation in his mind now from that first feeling of sensing your presence. The feelings duplicate themselves in his mind until he can hardly grasp his pen. Words on pages turn into soupy mush.

For the first time in centuries, Neuvillette does not stay late to continue working. When the clock strikes seven, he has already neatly organized the work he has to get done on his desk to pick up later. Briefly, his expression eases, thaws in a way, the corners of his lips slightly upturned, a hint of fondness finding its way into his iridescent eyes.

Unfortunately, he says, he can't organize all of the papers and contact all of the people needed right now to get you what he promised. However, he can offer you a guest room in his home. Your agreeance is so beautiful, your smile radiant like the sun and eyes shining like stars. He wants to see you smile. He likes it. Loves it, even.

As the two of you walk through the streets of Fontaine, the energy of the city begins winding down; there are still people clustered at cafes and musicians spouting tunes off into the evening summer air, but already, stars have begun to appear in the dazzling dusk sky.

You say you love the stars. Neuvillette listens with rapt attention, as though he is studying for the most important test of his life. He is an Akademiya scholar, and his Darshan is the study of you.

You are his star.

After the walk home, Neuvillette finds himself blessed by your expression when you gaze into the foyer of his house. It's nothing extraordinary like the opulence of the nobility, but it is upper-class; a quiet luxury permeates through every part of the home, from the banister carved with patterns of the sea to the walls painted a rich, deep blue.

He holds in a laugh when you see a potted plant and gaze at it like it is a miracle of life. Perhaps it is, with its delicate petals and fragrant scent. How—he wonders as he guides you to the guest room, nearly reaching to put his hand on the small of your back before deciding against it—could it survive this long? How did it not get ripped apart or trampled on by beasts and humans alike? The thought lingers in the back of his mind like the last traces of sunlight beaming in through the windows.

Neuvillette files it away.

When he goes to bed, he cannot sleep. Part of him is worried that there is something genuinely wrong with him, that he should seek medical attention. But that's impossible. And he knows it. It is an easy, dismissive lie; thin like ice in late winter. Once he smashes through it, he plunges into something lethal.

Is it wrong, Neuvillette thinks, that he wishes to protect you?

He should rephrase that. It is wrong that he wishes to keep you tucked away somewhere where those beasts will never hurt you again?

He holds a court case in his mind, you versus him. He cards through the evidence. The laws. He goes on a hunt in his archives for a tome on the law when he needs clarification.

When he composes a mental opinion to this rhetorical case, it is after several hours of back-and-forths in his head. But he knows now.

You are a special case, Neuvillette thinks. Cursed by Celestia even, he would say, with how much you have gone through, escaping the clutches of the Fatui and their Harbingers, and countless other evils. He can trace the scars on your hands knowing there are thousands of tragedies written in invisible ink over them. Could he be what decodes those messages? He can. He will.

To put it more plainly, you don't fall under the standard limits of jurisdiction of Fontaine's law. You are a Sovereign, not a citizen of Fontaine, and in addition, you fall under the qualifications of a person in extreme danger. Your very existence is endangered, the elusive essence of your being alluring to the foulest forces in Teyvat. And since the Archon of your element has not rescinded their powers, you are so very vulnerable.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Time passes strangely after that night. The god of time has always been a strange, fickle thing in an immortal being like Neuvillette's eyes, but after meeting you, it has only become more warped.

You go out to cafes together. Neuvillette buys you a croissant. You ask him what lavender tastes like. He describes it the best he can, and you buy a lavender latte. You and him share easy, pleasant conversation on a small streetside patio. That is just one morning. There will be an infinite number of mornings like that, but they will all carry that insurmountable significance to Neuvillette. Just like your smile. Your face. Your eyes. Hair. Nose. Everything. Anything. All of it.

This is love. It must be.

Days float on by like meandering clouds, the guest room slowly transforms into your room, and the thought of an apartment is abandoned. Neuvillette asks you to start helping him organize papers in his office, find the right tome he needs on Fontaine's laws from his expansive shelves. He buys you clothes in shades of blue, gray, and white, your outfit's color palette harmonizing perfectly with his. Your days are spent constantly together, going from home to the Palais Mermonia, back home, maybe going out for dinner or some other excursion like an opera or show, and Neuvillette is pleased.

Pleased because you have not tried to fight against this. Pleased that you are just as affected as he is. Pleased that he wakes every day knowing you are safe in your home. Pleased that you are his.

His grasp slowly tightens around you like a gardener lining his pruners up against a flower. His hands clasp yours. They draw around your back. Cup your cheek. Brush your lip. When a stranger finds themselves talking to you, Neuvillette's gravity draws you back in, like the earth and the moon. The stranger is simply a speck of dust in this cosmos, never to fall into your shared orbit again.

When you finally kiss after months of this slow pull, Neuvillette knows it is over. You are his. Your room is now his room. Your bed now his bed. Your love is now his love. Your life is now his life. And you know it. And he knows it. And you both know it's for the best.

He will protect you. His rose.

His star.

His love.

Forever.

[hqbaby]

fifteen — maybe i do

mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader

⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to. when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.

previous — masterlist — next

word count. 2.2k content. profanity, alcohol consumption, mentions of sex

It was a Friday night and you were all absolutely plastered. It turned out that a surplus of alcohol, a couple of no-shows, and a group of stressed college kids could only result in something on the edge of a mass blackout.

“We should have a wedding!” Suguru suggested. Or maybe it was Yuta. You weren’t really sure anymore.

It didn’t matter of course, because the moment the thought was spoken aloud, everyone fell into unanimous agreement, and your living room was soon filled with an alcohol-induced haze of last minute wedding planning. There was talk about using a bundle of pens as a bouquet, creating a wedding cake with some of your leftover cupcakes in the fridge, Nobara designating herself as the wedding photographer armed with a random phone—not even hers—as a camera.

“Who’s getting married though?” Maki, still managing to ask the important questions even if she could barely stay upright, offered up to the room.

It was Satoru who answered, raising his hand as he used the other to hold you to his side. “We’ll do it!” he said, then he looked down at you. “Right, princess?”

You nodded, grabbing your boyfriend’s shoulder to balance yourself. “Yeah,” you said with a goofy grin on your face. “Let’s get married.”

The girls quickly ushered you to your bedroom, rampaging through your closet until you found a white dress. It was definitely too slutty for an actual bride to wear but it also just so happened to be the only one you had. With much difficulty, Nobara zipped you up and patted your back as you marched over to the door.

“I can’t believe you’re getting married,” she said, sniffling a little. “You’re so beautiful.”

You gave her a little twirl, giggling as you stumbled. “I’m gonna fall over.”

“We’ll catch you,” Maki assured you as she leaned on Nobara for stability. She produced the pen bouquet from the pocket of her jacket and placed it in your hands. “Let’s go.”

When you stepped outside your bedroom, you found that the boys had lined the path from your door to the kitchen with potato chips—probably intended to be petals. They had also rearranged your furniture into makeshift rows that they sat on, all leading to the fridge where Yuji—the chosen officiant—stood with Satoru at his side.

Your boyfriend dried nonexistent tears from his eyes as you teetered over to stand in front of him. He took your hands as soon as you reached your spot and grinned at you. His hair was a mess and his eyes were barely open, but he looked as happy as he could ever be.

“Do you—what’s the words?” Yuji asked only to be met by shrugs and “boo”s. “Okay, okay, whatever. Where are the rings?”

Suguru, the designated ringbearer, pulled two paper rings from his pocket. He handed one to you and the other to his best friend. As you looked at the thing in your hands, you realized that it looked like it had been made by a five year old. Still, you couldn’t help but think it was perfect.

“You may now, I dunno, exchange rings,” Yuji said unceremoniously, gesturing for Satoru to go first.

Your boyfriend, clearly having just as much fun as you, slid the ring onto your finger—the wrong finger, but it didn’t matter. He lifted your hand to his lips and kissed it before holding his own hand out.

You took the ring you were holding, twirling it between your fingers for a moment before you slipped it onto Satoru’s finger. You beamed at him and grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him into a kiss.

Your friends all erupted into cheers, drowning out Yuji’s protests of, “Hold on! I was supposed to tell you to kiss,” as your boyfriend picked you up and twirled you around, lips never leaving yours.

You stare at the ring on your bedside table, where it’s been for months now. On the inside, you can see the faint scribble of “Satoru” in Yuta’s barely legible hand. You move your hand to touch it but you stop just inches away.

You’re lying on your bed, completely naked as far as you can tell, still adjusting to the morning light that slips through the curtains. Your blanket is pulled to your chin, covering your sore body as you stay there, completely motionless.

It takes you a moment to remember where you are. What happened last night. And who it all happened with.

Sukuna.

You bolt up and frantically turn to the space beside you on the bed. You find it empty, only the indent of a body left in your best friend’s wake.

You furrow your brows. Where could he—

And that’s when you notice them. The faint scent of food being cooked. The quiet cracking of something frying. The little movements on the other side of your bedroom door.

Carefully, you get out of bed and put your slippers on. You go over to your dresser, find some underwear, and put it on. You grab the sweater folded on your desk and slip it over your head before heading out of your room.

The sight that greets you is both familiar and alien at the same time. Sukuna in nothing but sweatpants with his back turned as he works on your kitchen stove.

“Are you making me breakfast?” you ask in a quiet voice. Your throat feels a little sore and your face heats up when you remember why.

Your best friend turns around with an amused look on his face. “Nope,” he tells you before looking back at the egg he’s frying. “This isn’t for you.”

With a frown, you sit at the kitchen table, noting the slight sting of your thighs as you move. “What?”

“I’m making lunch for the kids.”

“Kids,” you repeat slowly. That doesn’t help at all. “What?”

“Your tennis kids,” he says, laughter bubbling beneath his words. “You’re teaching them today, right? It’s Saturday.”

Your eyes widen in realization. “I totally forgot.”

He laughs now, turning the stove off and sliding the egg from the pan to a plate at his side. It’s then that you notice the little bento boxes laid out on the kitchen counter, all full of rice and sausages shaped to look like tiny squids. Sukuna places a fried egg in each box before he washes his hands and walks over to you.

He crouches in front of you and smiles, resting one of his hands on your leg. “You sleep well?”

You nod, still shocked by this whole situation. “You made them lunch?”

“Yeah, I figured you’d be too tired to do it, so I went out and got a few things,” he tells you. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

You lean in and kiss him, slow and soft. “I can’t believe you did all that,” you say when you pull back. You scrunch your nose up. “Who are you and what have you done with Sukuna?”

He guffaws, getting up and going to put lids on the bento boxes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Damn, my pussy must be real good to have domesticated you like this,” you muse, grinning now as you watch him scowls despite the growing redness of his cheeks.

“You’re so immature,” he tells you as he stacks the boxes and places them in a shopping bag. He sits in the chair across yours and huffs, crossing his arms over his bare chest. “I’m never doing anything nice for you ever again.”

“Oh, come on, don’t be embarrassed,” you say, reaching over to pinch his cheek. “I think it’s cute.”

Sukuna rolls his eyes, swatting your hand away. “Go get dressed or whatever,” he tells you.

You raise a brow. “Why?”

“Because I’m taking you out for breakfast, duh,” he says, holding up a hand to stop whatever teasing is about to spill from your mouth. “If you say another word, I’m gonna leave you to starve.”

You get up, still smiling, and sit on his lap, facing him as he avoids your gaze. “Thank you,” you say, pecking his lips. “This is the nicest thing you’ve ever done for me.”

“It is not,” he tells you. “I recall having to go into the girl’s bathroom once because you had to take a shit and you forgot—”

You cut him off with a kiss, snaking your arms around his neck as he kisses back and grabs your waist. There’s just something about seeing him be so nice and thoughtful that’s turning you on right now, so you grind your hips, vaguely aware of the fact that his dick is directly beneath your ass.

His grip on you tightens as he stills your movements. “I’m not gonna fuck you right now,” he mumbles against your lips before he pulls away.

You blink at him, lips falling into an “oh.” You draw your arms away and clear your throat. “Right, sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Sukuna watches as your expression changes to self-consciousness. He shakes his head. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he clarifies. “I just—That’s what I do with all the other girls.”

You frown, defensive now. “Oh, right, because I don’t turn you on like other girls do.”

He shakes his head again, more fervent now. “No!” he says. “That’s not what I mean!”

“Then what do you mean?”

He looks at you sheepishly and sighs, running a nervous hand through his hair. “With everyone else, it’s always a rush to, you know, fuck as much as possible,” he explains, cringing when he realizes how terrible he sounds. “I mean, I don’t usually have plans to see them again afterwards, so I don’t—you know, it’s just—it’s different with you, okay? I just want us to take our time. Because, well, I was kinda hoping there would be more of it.”

Oh.

You nod, smiling at him softly as you place a hand on his cheek. Your heart flutters when he nuzzles into your touch. “I get it,” you tell him. “And, uh,” you clear your throat, a little shy now, “I got what you were trying to say. I do, well, I do want more of… this.”

His eyes light up. Like he hadn’t expected you to say that at all. “Yeah?”

You laugh. “Yeah,” you say. “This is… good. Right?”

He nods, smiling now too. “Yeah. This is really good.”

You’re walking out of the coffee shop when you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. You pull it out and check the message, sighing when you read it.

“I gotta stop by the club office,” you tell Sukuna. “I forgot to give them the financial reports.”

He takes your hand and squeezes it. “It’s fine,” he says. “We have some time before you have to be at the sports complex anyway.”

The two of you make your way through the campus hand in hand. You’re both clearly still adjusting to this new development in your relationship—as evidenced in the way Sukuna’s hand is clammy in yours and the way you keep thinking, “Am I walking too slow? Too fast? Should I let his hand go”—but you manage to make it to the office intact.

“I’ll be right back,” you tell him, pushing the office door open.

The room is mostly empty, save for the boxes of unsold t-shirts by the door and the desks littered with gum wrappers and empty soda cans. Utahime would throw a fit if she saw the mess.

“Hey!” Emiko, one of the other club members, says from the desk she’s sitting at. Her laptop is in front of her and there are a few spreadsheets laid out on the surface beside it. “You got the reports?”

“Yup,” you tell her, pulling the envelope from your bag. You hand it to her and she puts it in one of the drawers. “How are you? I haven’t seen you in a while.”

She groans. “I know,” she says, resting her head on the desk. “I’ve been so busy with my other clubs, I haven’t really gotten to spend time here. That’s actually why Nanami put me on desk duty as soon as I ran into him in the hallway.”

You offer her a sympathetic smile. “That’s why I avoid him at all costs.”

“Good tip,” she says, chuckling. “Are you going on the trip?”

You nod. “Yeah! I heard you couldn’t make it.”

“You heard right.” She hums. “I’m heading back home for the break.”

“That a good thing?”

“Oh, yeah, definitely. I miss my mom,” she says. “I saw on the list that you were going with someone. Boyfriend?”

“Yup,” you tell her, the answer coming to you immediately. Is Sukuna actually your boyfriend now though? You should really ask. “It’s… new.”

“Oh, to be in love,” she swoons. “You should really give me tips some time.”

“No luck in that department.”

“Nah, I’m afraid it’s just hookups for me.” She stretches back and looks at her laptop screen. “I gotta get back to these MOAs. It’s so good to see you though.”

“You too,” you tell her, waving as you make your way out the door.

Sukuna’s leaned against the wall outside, head bent as he scrolls through his phone. He looks up as soon as he notices you. “All good?”

“Yup,” you tell him, stopping right in front of him and tilting your head to the side. “Are you my actual boyfriend now?”

He burst into laughter, slinging an arm over your shoulder as he leads you back to the parking lot. “I dunno, tiger,” he says. “Do you want me to be?”

You lean into his hold and sigh. “I dunno. Maybe I do.”

notes. i’m refraining from leaving any incriminating author’s notes 🥰 CUTE CHAPTER THOUGH RIGHT????

[emilys-bangs]

first hello's | e.p

Tags: established relationship, fluff, mom!emily, pregnant emily (just gave birth), no use of yn, this is just sugary sweet tbh

Summary: Eloise has just arrived and you and Emily can't stop fawning over her. Requested here.

Word count: 0.9k (baby blurb for baby Ellie <3)

A/n: I heard that some people don't like pregnant Emily? If that's the case with you please just scroll then, I don't need to know about it! Don't like, don't read <3 ALSO I'm officially done with my midterms.... for that one anon who called me out </3

Everything is quiet. The nurses have finally left and taken their flurry of activity with them; now it’s just you and your wife and your baby—your girls. Your family. Two has finally expanded to become three, and Eloise is perfect. 

You swear Emily is glowing. She’s smiling down at Eloise—who’s tucked into the crook of her elbow, wrapped in a soft pink blanket—as she traces your daughter’s features with the gentlest fingertips. Even disheveled she’s still ephemeral; her hospital gown slips off of one shoulder, her hair still in the braid you’ve put it in—unraveling at the ends, messy and loose from hours of labor. The way her lips are parted, her eyes still shiny as she takes in slow breaths, tells you she’s still trying to absorb the enormity of this quiet, tranquil moment. Her knuckle traces over the baby’s cheek, drawing a light stroke down to her chin. Eloise is asleep, but she doesn’t stir at Emily’s soft touches.

The love in your chest is almost unbearable. You try to expel it by letting out a quiet breath, your hand joining Emily’s on your daughter’s cheek. She’s petal soft, her eyes firmly shut, lashes not even fluttering when you brush your finger down the skin between her brows. Her mouth and nose are yours, but her closed eyes are all Emily.

“God, look at her.” Emily whispers. Her voice is choked, shaky; she clears her throat, waves away the water you try to hand her. “She’s perfect.”

“Of course she is.” You set the bottle back on her bedside table. “She’s half you.”

Emily finally looks up at you. She wrinkles her nose, poorly feigning disgust, but you can tell she’s trying to hide a laugh. “Don’t give me that sappy shit.”

“Uh, one: language—”

“She’s only a few hours old,” your wife interrupts quietly, but she looks down at Eloise with a docile smile. “But I’m sorry, bug.” She coos, her voice instantly turning cloud-like in its softness. “Mommy’s gonna have to get used to censoring her words around you—”

“And two,” you speak over her, grabbing her unoccupied hand, “you literally just spent three hours pushing her out. I’m going to give you that sappy”—she raises a pointed brow—“…stuff,” you substitute lamely, “and so much more.”

Emily smiles and laces your fingers together. “Maybe we can start with a shower, yeah?” Her voice is teasing but the sweep of her lashes is tired, her hair curling from dried sweat.

“Whenever you want it, sweetheart,” you say immediately. Emily’s smile widens, turns smug, but you don’t even care. “I’ll stay with Ellie, you go clean up.” 

It’s so breathtakingly natural for you to call her that. You’ve never even tested out the nickname before today but your mouth is ready, the sweet, miniature version of your daughter’s name rolling off your tongue with ease.

Emily tugs her hand out of yours and turns her attention back to Eloise. “I just want one more minute with her,” she murmurs, tucking the blanket down so she can get a closer look at her sleeping face. The whole length of her is shorter than Emily’s forearm, all bundled in soft pink; the tag reading Eloise Prentiss is hidden beneath the downy depths of the blanket.

You lean against the handle separating you and Emily, your forehead gently pressing against hers as you both look down at your daughter. She breathes evenly, her little chest rising and falling in equal intervals. It almost hurts your heart how small she is against Emily’s chest. You smile at the soft pout of her mouth, unable to stop yourself from gently cupping her head.

“We did a pretty damn good job, didn’t we?”

“We did.” Emily says, the smile audible in her voice. 

Suddenly desperate, you lean further out of your chair, curling your hands around Eloise’s small body. Emily gets the hint. She eases her into your arms and your heart thumps, almost painfully, against your ribcage.

Emily leans over the handle of her bed, seemingly magnetized to the newborn. You kiss the warm edge of her jaw—a poor apology as you hold Eloise to your chest.

“I’m gross,” she protests softly, trying to shy away from your lips.

“You’re magnificent,” you murmur. For extra measure, you give her jaw another kiss.

Emily blushes. She chews on her lip and wraps her hands around the handle of your chair, trying to tug even though it’s flush against her bed. You shift in your seat, offer out your shoulder, and she lays her head on it. The silence settles over you again as Emily’s hand rests on top of yours. It stretches, undisturbed but for the sound of your collective breaths as a family of three. 

The two of you watch, soft-eyed, as Eloise shifts in her cocoon with a low coo, her mouth parting for a second before it falls closed again.

Your heart turns to mush.

The soft gasp next to your ear tells you your wife is equally affected. “Is it bad that I want her to wake up?” Emily whispers.

“No,” you laugh softly. You turn your head, kiss her disheveled hair. “I wanna meet her too. But we’ll be getting more than our fill of that, baby. Soon we’ll be wishing she’s asleep.”

She sighs, content but with a hint of her usual impatience. 

“Can’t wait for soon, then.”

“Me either.”

taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism @catssluvr @i-lovefandom @haiklya @justhereforthosefics @storiesofsvu@ashluvscaterina @basicallyvivi @temilyrights

[dailyexo]

Chen - 230511 'Before the Petals Fall' (꽃잎이 지기 전��) Teaser

Credit: 1theK.

[the-petals-fall]

Viper art! 💚

[underlove-official]

What is UnderLove?

"UnderLove" is an AU created by Radicalrainbow, based on the renowned role-playing game Undertale. In the universe of UnderLove, the struggle between love and hate shapes its story. It introduces a unique twist with love-centric magic and the contrasting power of hate. Characters’ appearances are heart-themed, adorned in shades of pinks, reds, and whites, with frilly trims, fluffy details, and prominent heart motifs embracing a Valentine's/Lovecore theme. Yet, this AU can show more than just one side of the coin.

Underlove's history

History of the Underground: Long ago, humans and monsters lived separately and in disarray upon the surface. Humans were known for their ruthlessness, hostility, and HATE, which led them to push the kind and loving monsters away.

Tragedy struck one night when the king’s life was brutally taken, leading Asgore to ascend to the throne. Blinded by his own growing anger, Asgore sought to avenge his father, and the once kind and loving monsters turned hostile as war was declared against the humans.

The war raged on, with magic clashing and bodies falling. Eventually, humans emerged victorious, and with the help of a powerful mage, they sealed the monsters underground. The Underground was filled with despair and darkness, but the magic of LOVE gradually began to bloom again, restoring harmony among the monsters.

The royal family made certain that their people remained full of LOVE, fearing the resurgence of HATE that had swept the surface. Royal guards were tasked with protecting the Underground by preserving love and happiness, removing those who began to corrupt with hatred, and dealing with any humans who entered their realm.

Chara’s Arrival: After many years after banishment, their peace was interrupted when a human named Chara fell into their midst, seeking refuge from human cruelty. The Dreemurr family adopted Chara despite their initial wariness, it came to be the best decision of their lives as the two kids grew up together.

Tragically, Chara fell terminally ill from consuming red rose seeds, causing them to cough up petals and roses. Before the illness could fully silence them, Chara expressed a dying wish to see the surface sky one last time.

Asriel, their adoptive brother, absorbed Chara's soul and carried them through the barrier that separated their world from the humans. However, upon reaching the surface, they were met with misunderstanding and rage, resulting in the tragic demise of both Asriel and Chara.

The Dreemurr family, torn apart by the loss of their beloved children, decreed that any human who fell into their realm would be imprisoned in the depths of their castle dungeon.

Official Character Illustrations

FAQs [to be updated]

Question 1: What inspired "UnderLove"? Answer 1: [I've always favored the theme of Lovecore and the holiday of Valentine's Day!]

Question 2: How is "UnderLove" different? Answer 2: [UnderLove started off as a simple theme overhaul, with the characters and locations falling into its theme. Yet I wanted it to be unique, so the story follows a different path from Undertale and other AUs]

Question 3: Can I create fanart for "UnderLove"? Answer 3: [Yes! Absolutely! I'd love to see artwork done of these characters! Just make sure to tag me or use the hashtag #UnderLovefanwork so I can see it!]

Question 4: Can I draw my OC depicted in "UnderLove"? Answer 4: [Of course! I'd love to see what their designs turn out to be and how they'd interact with the cast of characters.]

Question 5: Does "UnderLove" have a wiki page? Answer 5: [Yes it does! I created it a while back and I intend to keep it as updated as possible for UnderLove]

Ask Guidelines

Respect: Be kind and respectful in your questions. Any asks that reflect HATE or are disrespectful will be ignored. No NSFW Content: Please refrain from submitting any NSFW content or questions as this blog and AU are intended for all audiences to enjoy.

Topic: Try to keep asks relevant to the blog and UnderLove in general. Any asks that are off-topic may be passed over to my main blog @radicalrainbow

Repetition: Before submitting your ask, check if it has already been answered via the hashtag on the blog #AsksofLove

No Roleplay Asks: While I love the enthusiasm for the characters and its story, this blog is not set up for roleplaying.

Patience: I try to respond to asks as quickly as possible, but response times may vary depending on the volume of questions and the progress of the story. If your ask doesn’t receive an immediate response, please be patient!

UnderLove's story

The official story of "UnderLove" will be told as a written narrative across multiple chapters. Each chapter will feature illustrated titles, and the written story will be accompanied by drawings that bring key scenes to life. These illustrations will help you better visualize the scenes that are being told. Artist Collaboration While I will be the main artist creating these illustrations, I’m excited to announce that other artists can collaborate on this project! If you’re an artist and would like to contribute: Contact Me! Reach out via my Discord handle or send an ask to the blog (please note that anonymous asks won’t be considered). We can discuss how you can get involved and the specific scenes you might illustrate.

All contributing artists will be fully credited, and I’ll link back to your social media profiles so the community can see the amazing work you’ve contributed!

Written Story chapters

Chapter 1: The Journey Begins

Chapter 2:

Chapter 3:

There's alot more to come to Underlove, so stay determined and keep an eye on this blog for the upcoming story, official artwork, fanart, and updates! Your support and love fuels this story's creation!!

In this world it's Love or be Loved!

[swagyalastorwife]

Marriage proposal!Hazbin hotel x reader part 2

Part 1 here

⚠️Warning ⚠️: sex mention in the valentino part and that's it (^.^)

Author note : I really enjoyed writing this (^-^)❤️

Vox📺

♤At the moment he laid eyes on you, he went crazy, crazy with love for you, he transformed into a kind of yandere he watched you 24/7 until one day he he finally decided to approach you and invite you to dinner, it was the beginning of such a beautiful love story you were the only person who really understood him and who supported him you helped him regain the trust he had He lost his time to go. So one evening he decided to get down to business and ask you to marry him, he privatized one of the most beautiful and luxurious restaurants and in the middle of the meal he got down on his knees and said to you: y/n doll you are here the person I care about the most I don't want to lose you so what would you say about officially becoming Madame Vox?

Velvette🧵

◇ I can't really imagine her falling in love easily so the fact that you managed to capture her heart is a great feat so believe me that as soon as she knows how to put meaning on what she feels she won't leave you even going as far as to the point of asking you to marry but unlike the other the surprise is not so secret I mean once you saw him make and wear a wedding dress then, well you already suspected it a little, so one evening after one of your night out she will find a calm and bright place and she will tell you: uh uhh how to say uh I...I care about you a lot so I was thinking maybe we could, you know, get married

Valentino🦋

♡ Val!!!!! a human accepted without being forced to go out with him????? my god you have courage I mean between his occupation at the studio and everything else.... I see him proposing to you after a night have fun if you know what I mean 😏 I want he prepared a romantic night with a bath and rose petals, champagne, candles and everything else and it's after the act that he says to you: eh mi amore you know you are the person I love the most in the whole world so would you like to become my sex partner forever?

carmilla carmin🗡

☆To be honest you piqued her curiosity she was slightly attracted to you but nothing important enough to upset her until the day she saw you with one of these girls, you help her to complete a delivery, and she saw the complicity between the two of you so at that moment her heart began to beat harder and faster and she realized yes she understood that she loved you more than anything that's when you started to be a couple until the evening you became much more she invited you to the restaurant not necessarily the most expensive but the most quiet with few people and then she said to you: mi corazon you know that you mean a lot to me that's why I would like you to become my partner for life

Cherry bomb💣

♧ Bro you don't know what you got yourself into this girl knew that she loved you from the first sight but she is not the romantic type so she will compliment you spontaneously and very quickly she will invite you to go to a party with her then will ask you to be with her she will tell you that she really likes you a lot and would like to be your boyfriend until she realizes that her desire goes further she wants more with you and will die for a few a day later what she really wanted so with the help of Angel she organizes a romantic candlelight dinner and tell you: you know you mean a lot to me so well you know you want to marry me?

Adam😇

● The first man is the most arrogant and proud man in the world he thinks that the fact that he is the first man gives him a pass to be with whomever he wants except that you are not just anyone and that you have decides to make him run in all directions until he admits defeat and asks you in a nice and polite way to be his partner after telling him yes your life was like a dream he is the sweetest and kindest man on earth and he wants you all to himself so one evening during a romantic candlelit dinner he took out a box with a beautiful ring and he says to you: "baby you know that I love you more than anything in the world you are the only one who understands me with whom I truly feel loved and happy"

I hope i like it ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ (^-^)(^-^)/❤️