#HI SORRY IF THIS DOESN'T MAKE SENSE I'M RUSHING TO FINISH SO I CAN GO MAKE DINNER

[covenofthearticulate]

i had a thought: imagine louis falls asleep first because he’s the weakest and the baby and armand reads his thoughts as he dreams and then yaps to lestat right over louis’ head 😭

MWAH MWAH MWAH kissing u on the cheeks as we speak!!!! this is delicious i'm sobbing!!! since we're both going through it I wrote a lil something as a treat bc we deserve it <3

"He's dreaming of you," Armand mumbles into the nest of unkempt black hair.

From the pillow, on the other side of their sleeping lover, Lestat looks up from his phone. Like a pantomime, the expression shifts from surprised to curious to doubtful, before landing on the final fixed look of pure spite that crinkles his brow and stiffens his lip.

"He is not," Lestat frowns. "Liar."

He is always this way when he's afraid. Like a cornered wolf, snapping at any hand that might offer kindness.

And perhaps he is right to be afraid, Armand thinks, as he rests one hand over Louis' chest, feels the rise and fall of it as the mortal sleep pulls him under like the gentle lull of the ocean waves. Perhaps it is a gift, the severance between maker and fledgling. Perhaps the ugly things in Louis' head are better left unsaid.

That won't stop Armand, though.

"He's dreaming of you at the chess board with your father."

If there is any color left behind from the hunt, it immediately drains from Lestat's face. There's a sharp pain in his eyes for just a moment, one singular earth-shattering moment, before he glazes right over, and turns his attention back to his phone.

"...oh."

"You're yelling at him."

Armand doesn't know why he's digging further. He likes to dig, likes to press on Lestat's old wounds because sometimes it is the only way to see the real creature hiding behind the facade, because it makes him feel less alone, knowing there is someone else in this wide world who is every bit as broken and wretched as he is.

"Enough."

"Oh, but he loves you, even now," Armand continues to murmur, soft and low, against the crown of Louis' head. "He loves the curl of your hair, and the shape of your calves. Even the flash of your fangs as you tell your father to go to hell. He feels sorry for you."

"I said ENOUGH, Armand."

When he looks up, finally, there is a rage in Lestat's eyes. It's an old flame of anger, and yet it makes Lestat look so devastatingly young.

"Why are you telling me this?" Lestat breathes.

"Because you are the center of his universe," Armand snaps, and undercurrent is clear: ungrateful, ungrateful, ungrateful.

"I don't want to be." Something quivers in the back of Lestat's throat as he speaks. "I never wanted to hurt him, I never wanted—"

"And yet he dreams of you still."

Silence, for a moment.

And the longer Armand's words hang in the air, the more Lestat begins to recognize the jealousy seeping into each syllable.

"I want him to dream about us," Lestat finally sighs.

All Armand does is nod, close his eyes and inhale a breath as if he might pick up some lingering scent from the long dead flesh cuddled between them. And as he begins to gently exhale, Louis makes a small noise, a soft groan, and shifts ever so slightly so that his toes bump against Lestat's leg.

Lestat hates that he cannot know the cause of that noise, and for a moment he considers swallowing his pride simply to ask Armand to play conduit, to slide the blade between his ribs just once more—

But before he can speak, he feels the gentle press of Armand inside of his head, like a warm summer breeze, and once he opens the door, allows the battlements to crumble down, he can hear it like a relentless pulse:

Dream of us, dearest. Dream of us. No more sorrow. We are here, now. Dream of us.

And the world seems so warm and so small, suddenly, as Lestat allows himself to sink down into it, to be guided by Armand through the dreamscape in his lover's head. The three of them, tucked away in a venerable library deep in the heart of New York. The three of them, in the box at the opera. In the snow-covered trails of Auvergne, the moonlit streets of Paris, the ocean-kissed air of California...yes, the three of them, in all their many iterations, always finding their way home to one another over and over again.

A yawn creeps it's way up into Lestat as he shifts under the covers. He wraps his arm around Louis, rests his hand on Armand's shoulder.

And when he closes his eyes, he dreams of the three of them, too.

[reareaotaku]

No Fun Babysitting

Summary: Greg's mother gets him and Manny a babysitter, because Rodrick is 'too busy' with Band practice, and she wants a reliable sitter while her and Frank go out. Though, Rodrick's plans change when he finds out who the babysitter is. Pairings: Rodrick x Fem! Reader [Since my Rodrick posts always tend to do well, here's another you Rodrick lovers!] God this probably so dumb lol. So sorry if it's bad lol

"A babysitter?" Greg looked at his mother like she was crazy. He was 13, he didn't need a babysitter! Maybe Manny, but certainly not him. "Why do I need a babysitter?"

His mother, Susan, finishes drying off a plate, before turning towards him, "Well, Rodrick," She gestures to Rodrick who was sitting at the dining room table eating a bowl of cereal, "has a gig and I need someone reliable to watch you and Manny while me and your father are out."

"Doesn't Gramma usually watch Manny?" Rodrick asked, since they had never offered to pay HIM to watch the kids.

"She's busy."

"Why can't I watch Manny?"

Susan laughs, causing Greg to frown and roll his eyes.

"Oh, Greg. You have not shown me you are responsible enough to care for a goldfish, much less your little brother. Besides, she's supposed to be really good, her name is Y/n."

Rodrick almost spit out his food when he heard the name of Y/n and he was very quick to clarify, "Y/n? Like Y/n L/n, Y/n?"

Susan hums, before rubbing her chin and nodding, "Yes I believe so."

"She's going to be here?"

"Why do you care?" Greg quick asked, suspicious.

"I don't," Rodrick quickly justifies, trying to cover up his previous excitement. He quickly gets up and heads to his room, completely forgetting about the food.

Susan and Greg watched as he left, while the latter grew suspicious.

---

"Thank you so much for coming at such late notice," Susan hands you Manny, who wiggled in her grasp.

"It's really no problem, Mrs. Heffley. I hope you and your husband have a good night out."

"Me, too," She jokes, before shaking her head, "Our numbers are on the fridge and if we don't answer, there's the number of the restaurant...."

You nod your head, listening as she goes on and on about safety and such. When she finally left, you waved her off before carrying Manny into the living room. "So, what do you like to do, Manny?"

Before he could answer, Rodrick quickly rushes in, his guitar hanging off his back. He was covered in sweat and his hair was dismayed/a mess. He pushes his hand through his hair, before looking at you in feigned confusion.

"Oh, Y/n right? I didn't know you were going to be here."

"What are you talking about? Mom sai-"

Rodrick quickly got his shoe and threw it at Greg, hitting him smack in the face. He [Rodrick] pushes inbetween you and Manny, leaning on his hand, "Hey."

"Hi?" You looked past him, towards Manny, who was pushing on Rodrick's back.

"What.. uh, brings you around?"

"Um... What do you mean?"

He turns to face forward , leaning back on his hands, "Uh, you know, ummm...." He clicks his tongue, before looking back at you, "You like music, right?"

"Everyone likes music."

"Right!" He stands up pointing to you, Manny finally looking relieved that Rodrick had moved from his spot.

Manny gets down from the seat and pulls out a puzzle from under the table. You watch him closely as Rodrick still continues to talk.

"I'm in a band, you should come listen."

"Uhuh... Band?" You now looked at him when registering his words.

"Oh, yeah. We're called the Loaded Diaper [Löded Diper]."

"Loaded Diaper?"

"Yeah."

"When you hear them, you'll understand the name," Greg jokes, before hiding under the table when seeing Rodrick's glare.

You look at Greg, before humming and nodding, "I see. Ummm... What kind of music do you guys play?"

"Rock."

"Oh, yeah, that makes sense... Um... Maybe I can come some time."

"Yeah, you should. Just let me know when you're free."

"Yeah, will do."

He walks away from the living room and out the front door, but not before fist bumping, thrilled to have a 'date' kind of.

[daenysx]

using the safeword with aemond targaryen pls !!!!! 🤍

going back to my aemond era because apparently ewan mitchell will not stop bewitching the fandom! if you have any requests for aemond you can send them my way!! ♡

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader, nsfw

aemond presses his hips against yours for countless times. he stays behind you with your knees on bed and one of his hands on your lower back as the other one holds your wrists. he moves again, hits a deeply sweet spot and you make a crying sound.

your face is buried to the pillow with tear stains on your cheeks because everything feels too good. aemond keeps moving, you feel on edge every second like your body is on fire. you are desperate when you push yourself back to him, your legs are close to give up.

"please." you say against the pillow. "aemond, please."

his body is covered with a delicious layer of sweat, his naked torso on display. you can see him if you turn your head enough. he presses on your back as he moves his cock against you, wet noises fill the air. aemond groans, tilts his head back to reveal his pretty neck. if only you could give him a kiss right now. you moan his name again but he doesn't hear.

"so good." he says. "so good, do you hear that?"

the praise sends a warmth to your stomach, your legs are shaking but he keeps you still. you can feel a teardrop falling on the fabric of the pillow. your brain goes numb, there's only him and his sounds, his scent and his praises. "yes- yes, such a good girl. push yourself against me one more time."

you try to do as he says, it doesn't feel like you succeed though. "aemond-"

"one more- give me one more."

"yes, you can." he says, breathless. "my good girl never disappoints me, does she? of course you can."

"i can't." you whine, a sound mixed with moaning.

you feel your breath getting stuck in your throat and suddenly your legs give up. you can sense a liquid dripping down your thighs but it doesn't feel like a relief. the words get caught on your mouth, you panic as you try to hold aemond's hand. "red- red."

everything stops. you don't even realize it's because of the word you say. you can't even look at aemond, a spark of embarrassment flashes on your cheeks, your heartbeat goes insane. he leans in slowly, still deep inside you. he's careful as he fixes your hair on one side to see your face.

"it's okay." he says, gently. "i'm gonna pull out now, okay?"

you manage to give him a nod and a whimper when he pulls himself back. it's the feeling of emptiness you hate the most, he's still hard and he carefully leaves the bed to wear his boxers.

you tear up again, can't help yourself. it's a rush of emotions, you don't know how to deal with them all. you feel desperate, just laying on bed naked and speechless.

aemond comes to your side, sitting on bed. he puts a slow hand on your cheek to dry your tears. he has an understanding look on his face, his hair messed up and skin sweaty from sex. you can see the outline of his cock from the thin fabric, he doesn't wear anything else.

"i'm-" you start, your voice sounds scratchy. "i'm sorry, i just-"

"don't finish that sentence." he says, his thumb rubbing your cheek. "you did the right thing."

you force yourself to turn on bed, facing him properly. you are naked too, and a bit cold but it's okay. "i didn't want to disappoint you." you say with a low voice.

"you could never disappoint me." he says, even softer this time. "i'm so proud of you."

"you are?"

"of course i am, sweetheart." he leans in to kiss your forehead. "you did the right thing. if one of us doesn't feel good there's no point of having sex."

"i was feeling good." you say, holding his hand like an anchor. "it was a bit much and- it didn't feel right."

"it's okay." he says. "it's totally okay."

you try to sit, aemond helps you. he pulls you to his lap to give you the cuddles you want, his long arms holding your body still. you press your nose against his neck, feeling calm as he rubs your back and squeezes your body in his arms. the pressure makes you feel safe, it's not like the one you felt moments ago when he was on top of you. this time you sit on his lap, you have the control. aemond kisses the side of your head, keeps repeating that everything's fine.

"let's clean you up." he says. "i'll fill the tub, is that okay?"

he is panicked too, you realize, afraid he hurt you. he manages to fix the situation for both of you, though, offering any comfort he can provide.

"yes, but-" you say, holding him and keeping him closer than he already is. "you'll get in with me, right?"

he kisses your forehead. "i will."

[steddiealltheway]

"Steve! You've got to help me. I panicked, and I told my Tinder date that you and Eddie have been dating for two years!" Robin yells as she storms into their living room. 

Luckily, Steve's gotten used to her entering their apartment in such a way over the past few years, but he barely registers what she says in her haste. He takes a moment to stare at her with his eyebrows drawn together in confusion, hoping the words will eventually make sense. 

They don’t. 

"What?" 

Robin paces back and forth while gesturing wildly with her hands. "You know how I do the thing where I ramble around girls I find really really hot? Well, I was doing that, and I brought you up and kept going on about how annoying my roommate is-" 

"Are you kidding m-" 

Robin continues as if she didn't just insult him. "And she kind of stopped and look at me and said, 'Your roommate is a guy?' And I got confused and said yes because why would I lie? And she got all uncomfortable and started asking more questions like if you were gay or straight, and I told her you were bi, and she got even weirder! So, eventually I just straight up asked her what was wrong, and she said that she didn't want to go out with me if my roommate was potentially into me. So I told her that wasn't a problem because you've been dating Eddie for two years." She finishes with that awkward lip bite she does which can be oddly endearing sometimes. But it’s not this time. 

Steve leans forward on the couch. "I'm sorry. You still want to go out with a girl who has no trust in my ability to keep things in my pants? As if she doesn't trust that you're a lesbian and if I ever made a move on you, you would absolutely punch me in the throat." 

Robin sits next to him and grabs his hands. "She's so so hot, Steve. Please." 

Steve rolls his eyes. "Fine, you can keep telling her that I’m dating Eddie, I guess." 

Robin breaks eye contact and starts picking at her nail polish. 

Well, that’s not a great sign. "What aren't you telling me?" 

Robin slowly looks at him in the way a dog looks at their owner after destroying their favorite shoes. "Okay, so then I really got a bit crazy, and when she asked me to show me pictures of you two together, I dropped my phone in my glass of water." She slowly pulls out her phone, and sure enough, it won't even turn on. 

Steve digs the heels of his hands into his eyes before grabbing her phone and stalking off to the kitchen to find rice and a bowl. Robin follows after him. 

"So, all I need to do is take a few pictures of you guys looking really coupley on dates and whatnot and make it look like they range over the past two years. I also told Veronica that I would let her meet you two sometime soon,” She rushes in to add the second thing before Steve can really process the first one. She just smiles, trying to look all sweet and endearing.  

Steve gives Robin the best bitchy glare he has, but she shoots him one back and counters by saying, "You owe me, and you know it." 

"For what?" Steve asks as he pours rice over her phone. 

Robin crosses her arms. "Three weeks ago, you kicked me out of the apartment without warning to have sex with some random girl, and I was left stranded for the night." 

Steve scoffs, "You went to Nancy's and slept in her very nice guest bedroom!" 

"You owe me!" 

Steve puts the bag of rice down and sighs. "Fine, but if Eddie doesn't agree, then I'm out." 

Robin smiles. "Deal." 

Steve hates how confident she is about the whole thing, so he calls Eddie and puts him on speaker. When he answers, Steve immediately says, "Hey, Eddie, you're on speaker with me and Robin, and she has a very ridiculous request for you. I'll let her tell you the details." 

After Robin recounts her night and Steve tries not to rant about how much of a bad vibe he gets from the girl, Eddie pauses for a bit to take it all in. Then, he says, "Robin, I really don't like this Veronica girl." 

"She's hot!" Robin retorts. 

Eddie snorts on the other line. "I'm in if Steve's in." 

Steve's jaw drops. Robin shoots him a big smile. "Perfect! What if we started on pictures early tomorrow? I've got a lot of random dates to prepare you guys for." 

Steve interrupts before Eddie can answer. "And why can't you show her like... three pictures of us cuddling on the couch?" 

"We need to cover our tracks as much as we can and cuddling on the couch a few times won’t do. Oh, we should hang a few pictures of you two around the apartment!" Robin plots excitedly. 

Steve runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head. He can't believe he's doing this. They don’t even have pictures hanging up. 

"Tomorrow works for me," Eddie says, entirely oblivious to Steve’s internal struggle. 

But Steve can't help but get a little excited at the thought of seeing Eddie and spending a whole day with him. 

So, he sucks it up and says, "I'm free, too. And I'm excited to see you, Eddie. I've missed you." 

"I saw you yesterday," Eddie laughs on the other line. 

Steve blushes and argues, "Seeing you for a minute when I get my coffee doesn't count." 

"Whatever you say, pumpkin bread." 

Pumpkin bread? Steve scrunches up his nose in protest. “That’s one of the worst things I’ve ever heard.” 

"Just practicing for when we meet this Veronica girl, my peach." 

Steve can’t help but laugh. "We are not that kind of couple. But I'll see you tomorrow. Have a good night. Sweet dreams, rubber ducky." 

Eddie laughs loudly on the other line and muffles the sound probably with his hand. 

Steve bites his lip, trying not to get too pleased at causing that reaction. 

"Good night, sweetheart." The line beeps three times as the call ends, and Steve can't help the smile that grows on his face. Sweetheart... he kind of likes that one. 

"Glad to see you two get into your roles," Robin says with a smirk. 

Steve jumps back, having forgotten she was there. "I'm going to bed. Goodnight.” With that, he quickly rushes off to his room before Robin can say anything else about the interaction. 

"Goodnight, dingus!" she calls after him joyously. 

This all better be worth it.

-:-:-:-:-:-

The next morning, Steve can't help but get a little nervous when Eddie sends him an "Almost there!" text. He has a feeling this whole thing is going to blow up in their faces or something. 

He's always known that Eddie's been cute. Hell, the first time he saw him, Steve thought he was hot. But he had never thought of them together after that. Sure, there was definitely a certain chemistry between them, but for some reason, Steve always saw him as off-limits. Especially since Dustin would kill him if he ever broke Eddie's heart. 

So, Steve learned to push down any feelings he's had for him over the years. And he's afraid that all those repressed feelings are going to come up today.  

There's a knock on his and Robin's apartment door, and Steve freezes. Hopefully his and Eddie’s friendship will survive whatever happens next.  

Here goes nothing.  

He opens the door to find a curly head of hair in front of him that isn't Eddie's. 

"Nancy?" 

"Hi! I'm here to take pictures today," she explains as she walks through the door, wiggling her Canon camera in her hand. "I thought Robin told you." 

"She certainly did not," Steve says and pinches his nose. He might kill her. He pushes the door shut, but it stops. 

"Hey," Eddie says peaking his head out from behind the door and catching Steve’s eye quickly. "Sorry, I'm late," he apologizes as he pulls Steve into a tight hug. 

Steve lingers in it, squeezing Eddie tightly, smelling the lavender shampoo he uses, and trying to make the moment last as long as he can. 

The sound of a camera shutter snaps him out of the moment. 

He pulls back and looks at Nancy. 

"Taking some candid pictures," she says unapologetically. 

But Steve doesn't care too much when he feels Eddie's hand linger on his back. "You're taking pictures for us? What happened to Robin?" 

"Yes, what did happen to Robin?" Steve asks raising his voice so she'll hear him. 

"Coming!" she yells then comes out of her room looking very strangely put together. Steve glances down at her wrist and notices her wearing her lucky black bracelet. When did she start wearing that again? 

"You look nice," Nancy says with a soft smile. 

"Thanks," Robin replies with a soft blush. 

Steve is definitely missing something, but he can't pay attention when Eddie is gently rubbing his back. He's going to end up dying on the spot. 

"Eddie!" Robin says, finally noticing him, "I see you brought the extra clothes." 

Steve glances down to where Eddie's suitcase sits on the floor. He does not remember him bringing that in. Shit, he's so distracted by his presence. Wait. "Why did you bring extra clothes?" he asks Eddie then notices how close they're standing. Oh, hello, Eddie's very soft-looking lips. 

"I told you we're covering two years. That means different seasons," Robin says as if the answer is obvious. 

Hell no. "There's no way in hell I'm wearing cold clothes outside in the heat." 

"Good thing I planned for us to stay in for those pictures," Nancy says with a smile on her face. "Now go change into one of your sweaters or something. Oh! Eddie, you should change with him so you two can color coordinate. It'll be so cute!" 

Steve adds Nancy to the list of people he might murder. 

Eddie's hand drops from his back as he wheels the suitcase into Steve's room. Steve follows and closes the door behind him. 

"Sorry for all this," Steve says, glancing around to make sure nothing embarrassing is laying out. 

Eddie shakes his head and brushes it off as if it's nothing, "Nah, it's all good. I think it could be fun if we let it. Color coordinating is a horrible idea though." 

"Agreed," Steve replies, deciding that his room looks fine. He opens up his closet and pushes his short sleeve clothes to the side to try to get to his sweaters hanging in the back. "What are you thinking for clothes?" 

"I don't care as long as you wear your yellow sweater for one of the pictures." 

Steve snorts. For some reason, Eddie had such an attachment to the thing. One time, he mistakenly put it in his designated donation bin, and he thought Eddie was going to cry when he found it. 

He had cradled the thing to his chest and dramatically said, "You don't understand, Steve. Some people's lives depend on you wearing this sweater. Their lives, Steve." 

Steve had rolled his eyes, put it back on a hanger, and hung it with the other sweaters. "Better?" he asked. 

"Much better."  

And the whole thing had been worth it to see the smile on Eddie's face - especially when Steve decided to surprise him by wearing it to the coffee shop the next day. 

"Whatcha thinking about?" Eddie asks with a smile, suddenly very close to him. 

Steve shakes his head as if shaking away the memory. "Nothing." 

Eddie raises an eyebrow but he doesn't push it before he goes back to his suitcase and starts laying out his clothes on Steve's bed. 

Steve strips off his shirt and pulls the sweater over his head. He glances down at his jeans and decides that Veronica probably won't remember what pants he was wearing in each picture. 

He turns to tell Eddie as much but freezes when he sees Eddie shirtless, sorting through the clothes to find the perfect assortment of layers. Steve swallows and adverts his eyes. He is not going to check him out while he's changing. He clears his throat and turns back to his closet. "I think we just need to change our shirts. Maybe outside, you can start with a base layer then add on top of that." 

Steve doesn't think he can stand to see shirtless Eddie with all his tattoos out in the daylight or the moonlight - if it takes that long. And he certainly does not want to let anyone else see that either. 

"That's smart, babe." 

Steve's hand squeezes whatever poor shirt he was grabbing a little too tight at the nickname. He's never been one for nicknames, especially over-the-top ones, but knowing it's Eddie calling him that as if he really does love him... it really does something for Steve. 

He doesn't reply as he grabs a few shirts and jackets and lays them out on the bed next to Eddie's stuff. 

He glances up at Eddie and almost breathes a sigh of relief when he sees that he has a shirt on. And a flannel. And his leather jacket. Thank goodness for layers. 

He looks back at Eddie's face and catches the exact moment that Eddie registers him wearing the yellow sweater. His eyes fill with unhinged excitement and joy. He walks right into Steve's space and leans down - oh my god - to talk to the sweater. 

"I've missed you so much. You know, it's so unfair that Steve only gets to wear you for a small part of the year. And he doesn't own anything short-sleeved in your beautiful color it seems." 

Steve puts his hands on his hips and stares up at the ceiling. He can't believe he's ever had trouble pushing down feelings for this man. 

(But he makes a note to himself to buy more things in yellow just for him.) 

There’s a loud knocking on the door, then Robin yells, “You two have been in there for a while! Everything okay?” 

“Eddie is talking to my sweater again!” Steve calls back. 

There’s a pause before Nancy says, “Sorry, we didn’t hear you right. What?” 

“I’m talking to his sweater! Be out soon!” Eddie yells. 

There’s some mumbling outside the door as Steve finally looks down at Eddie and asks, “Are you done?” 

Eddie smiles up at him. “Never.” 

But he straightens up and presses a quick kiss to Steve’s shoulder before he turns to leave the room. “That was for the sweater, not you,” Eddie clarifies. 

“Right,” Steve replies. Because that makes so much sense.

Today is going to kill him. 

Part two ;)

(This was meant to just be a ficlet for my dear friend @henderdads , and then it turned into a six-part fic. I hope you enjoy!! ((Especially you, Cass)) AO3 Link here!)

[thecuriousbeauty]

Thank you so much! Yes, I will take requests🫶🏼

So Harry and yn are in a relationship but his family doesn't approve their relationship cause they thought yn is all uptight bitch as media has portrait her and it will be angsty like his family will fight with yn but in the all fluff and smut between harry and yn?? If only you want to write thank youu.💗

Harry Styles Oneshot- His Family Doesn't Like You

Word limit: 3,030

Author's note: Thanks for the request! I hope you like it:) Requests are open, guys. Feed back appreciated and please re blog if you like my writing!

Warnings: Smut, sweet sex, fluff, angst.

___________________________________________

You looked at yourself again and again in the mirror, making sure you looked perfect. You wanted to look flawless tonight. You were meeting your boyfriend's family for the first time. Harry always talks about them. He tells you about how kind his mom is, how she raised Harry and his sister Gemma all by herself. Harry's very close to his mother and he loves her a lot. He loves his sister too, he always calls her after a show, or if something exciting happens in his life. You were going to meet the two women who shaped Harry to who he is now. 

"You ready to go, baby?", Harry asks, coming into your bedroom, and you turn around to look at him. Harry looked handsome as always, in his patterned shirt and black pants, his hair neatly kept, a few strands falling over his face. His face breaks into a beautiful smile as he takes you in. "You look so pretty!"

"Yeah? Are you sure? Should I change into a dress or something?", you ask him, nervously running your hands down your skirt. Harry comes to you, placing his hands on your hips and tugging you closer to him. "I'm sure. Are you okay? We don't have to meet them today if you don't want to, no rush." Harry kisses your temple, and you sigh. You two were already in a six month relationship, and Harry had met your parents who absolutely loved him, but you hadn't met Harry's family yet. You both were busy. You work in the industry as well, and whatever free time you both get, you spend it with each other.

"No, I want to meet them. I'm just nervous.", you tell him. Harry strokes your hair away from your forehead, his gentle green eyes reassuring you. "Darling, they're really good people. You don't have to be nervous about anything. I love you, and they'll love you too."

"Okay.", you whisper, nodding slowly as he lifts your chin up for a kiss. "Yeah?", he checks, and you nod some more, pressing a kiss to his lips. He cups your cheek, and his lips envelop yours in a sweet kiss. His kisses could heal everything. You felt a a tiny boost of confidence, and you finished getting ready, then got in the car. Harry drove and kept his free hand on your thigh, talking to you about his sister and his mom. 

You got to the house, and Harry grabs your hand, sensing your nerves again as you stand outside the door, waiting. "I'll be right by your side, baby. Don't worry, okay?"

"Okay, sorry, I just really want them to like me.", you whisper, and he smiles, kissing your cheek. "How can anyone not like you y/n? You're an amazing person."

Just then, Harry's mom gets the door, and you smile at her. Anne was beautiful. Her brown hair laid over her shoulder in waves, bright eyes and a big smile took over her face as she sees her son.

"Oh come here my handsome boy.", she coos, opening her arms and Harry walks into them, embracing his mother tightly. "Hey mum." They kiss cheeks, and Anne starts telling him about the neighbour's cat, but Harry interrupts. 

"Mum, this is y/n. Babe, my mom.", Harry introduces with a smile, and Anne looks at you for the first time, giving you a small smile. "Hello, y/n."

"It's so nice to meet you, Mrs. Twist." You wanted to go for a hug, but she put out her hand before that, so you just shook it. 

"Call me Anne, please. Come on in!"

She holds the door open for you guys. "Gemma! Harry's here."

Harry takes your coat to hang it behind the door along with his. "She just came in a few minutes ago.", Anne says as she walks to the kitchen. 

"It smells so good in here, mum.", Harry says, and it did. The lovely smell of hot stew and something buttery in the oven was wafting through the air. 

"All your favorites, of course.", Anne answers and Harry grins. 

"Can I help with anything, Anne?", you ask, and she shakes her head. "I've got it handled, thank you."

Another woman comes down the stairs. She was beautiful too, you saw the similarities between her and Harry. "Harry!", she smiles and rushes into his arms. "Hey Gem!", Harry squeezes her tight, kissing her cheek. "Long time no see!"

"You're the one who's always busy!", she says back, and he laughs. "Say hi to y/n!"

She turns to look at you, and you smile. "Hi Gemma."

"y/n.", she nods, her smile erasing a bit, and your heart drops. She doesn't seem to like you, you think. Harry saw that, and he comes back to your side. 

"What do you do, y/n?", Gemma asks you, even though she knew from Harry.

"Uh, I work in the industry. I'm a music producer.", you say. 

"You work for Harry then?", Anne asks you from the kitchen.

"I have worked with Harry, yes, but I work with a lot of people in the industry. Not confined to anyone.", you say, and she hums. That's how you met Harry. You worked on a song together. 

"She's a brilliant producer, anyone who gets to work with her is lucky.", Harry pipes up, kissing your cheek and you smile, squeezing his hand. "Thanks babe."

They ask you more about your work, and people you've worked with. Then Harry whisks you away to show you around the house, and you can't help but wonder whether they like you. They seemed pretty sweet when talking to Harry, but all you got were cold responses. 

"They're nosy, love, I'm sorry.", Harry says apologetically and you shake your head. "No it's okay, I like talking about work."

"I did tell them everything they need to know, I don't know why they're still asking you.", he frowns. "Why don't you take a look around while I have a chat with them?"

You nod. After you looked at Harry's childhood photos and smiled to yourself, took some photos on your phone to look at them again later on, you went back to them. On the way you stopped in your tracks, when you heard them talk about you.

"Mum, she's not like others!", Harry was saying.

"You don't know that yet, Harry. Everything starts out like this and ends up with you heart broken."

"Besides, it's just been six months, are you really that serious about her?", Gemma asks him, and you feel your heart tighten in your chest. 

"We did our research on her, and you have to see what the media has to say. She's so stuck up, and rude!", Anne said.

"And she might be secretly messing with your music, she could use them for her ideas.", Gemma says, and you resist the urge to scoff out loud. That would be the last thing you would do to Harry. 

"You mean she's with me to steal my music?! Mom, Gem, she's so talented, she doesn't need to steal anything! She wouldn't do that, either. She's such a good person. I don't care what the media portrays her as, she's not rude. She's quiet, but not with me. She trusts me, and loves me, she's her real self with me. She's funny, and beautiful and a lovely person.", Harry said, and you felt your eyes tear up. 

"You're blind, Harry. I hope you remember all the drama and rumors you caused with your previous relationships.", Gemma says. 

"I don't see a difference, she's just like everyone else you've dated before. I don't like her, Harry, I'm sorry.", Anne said. 

"You didn't even talk to her! You asked her about work! How can you decide that you don't like her?"

"Because this isn't the first time you've brought a girl like her to meet us!", Gemma said, and that was it, you had heard enough. You walked out, making everyone freeze and look at you.

"Babe-", Harry starts, knowing you heard it all by taking a look at your face.

"-I-I got a call, something came up. I-I have to go, Harry. I'll get a cab.", you say to him, your voice shaky as you go to the door. 

"No, no baby, they didn't mean it like that-" Harry grabs your arm. 

"-I have to go.", you whisper, looking Harry in the eyes and taking your arm away from his grip. "Okay. I'll come with you, you're not taking a cab."

Before you could stop him, he turned back to his mom and sister. "I don't know why you both behaved like that towards someone I love and respect, but that was awful. You taught us to respect and treat people well, that's not what you did to y/n today, mum. I feel so bad for bringing her here, she didn't deserve to hear all that shit. You can't just assume she's like everyone else. And she's not, I know her. I love her. She has been with me through tough times, my loses and my wins. I feel sorry for you both that you failed to see her. I don't want to hear anymore of this from either of you, don't talk to me until you apologize to y/n."

"Harry no-", you start, you didn't want to break up the family.

Harry took your hand, and your coats. "Let's go, love."

"Harry-", Gemma calls behind you, but he doesn't look back. He opens the door for you, and you get inside the car. Harry started driving, silently. He was fuming too. He couldn't believe they would talk like that about her, in front of her.

Now you're the reason for messing up their family. Then all the shit the media says about you. Everything hit you together, and you couldn't stop the tears. 

"y/n.", Harry whispers, moving his free hand to your knee. "Darling."

"I-I'm so sorry.", you croak, covering your face with your hands. "Y-You shouldn't have walked out and said all that."

"I shouldn't have stood up for you?", he asks, pulling over to the side. "What kind of a boyfriend would I be then?"

You sob into your hands, and Harry gets his seat belt off, reaching over to remove yours, and he scoops you into his lap without effort. "Hey, hey..sweetheart, look at me.", he speaks softly, all his anger melting away watching you cry. He hated watching you cry. Knowing that his family was the reason for your tears made him feel so guilty. He wanted you to meet them.

"I-I don't want to get in the way of your family. M-Maybe we should break up.", you tell him, and he pulls your hands away from your face so he can look at you. He looked hurt. "B-Break up? No, I love you!"

"I love you too, Harry, but I can't do this. T-They obviously hate me and they're all you have as family, I don't want another label. Family wrecker? I-I can't, Harry..", you cry, and he cups the back of your head, pushing your head into his chest. He rub his hand up and down your back, comforting you. 

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart, please don't cry..", Harry coos, pressing kisses to your head. "This isn't gonna break my family apart, babe. I was angry, and they are naive, they read what the media says. But I know the real you! You're such a beautiful person, in and out. And anyone who knows you will say the same about you. The media says I'm a womanizer, I like older women, I have sex with everyone I see and what not! They just like to make people feel bad. I'll make mom and Gem understand. And if they don't get it, it's fine. I love you, right?"

You pull your head back, and look at him. He smiled softly, stroking his thumb on your cheek. "I love you so much. I can't live without you, y/n. I need you in my life. I will fix this, I promise. Please don't give up on us, baby, I can't go on without you."

You couldn't either, that was the truth. You put your arms around his neck, hugging him tight. "I love you too, Haz."

"I'm sorry.", he repeats, kissing your neck. 

"It's not your fault.", you tell him, closing your eyes. Harry held you for as long as you needed. You gave him a kiss and got off his lap once you were alright. 

"I'll show you just how perfect you are after we get home.", he promises, before he starts driving again. 

You wondered what he meant. When you got to your place, he took you up into his arms as he kissed you. This time, with more passion. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he took you to your bedroom, and laid you down on the bed, all while trailing kisses down your jawline and your neck, his teeth leaving love bites as a reminder. 

"Harry..", you moan as he his hand palms your breast over your bra, slipping his hand under your top. 

"I'm gonna make you feel good, baby.", he whispers, gently tugging on your top and you raise your arms for him to slip it off of you. Your bra follows, and he kisses your breasts, lips sucking your nipples, and his teeth gently nibbling on it. You get his shirt off, running your hands over his chest and his abdomen, eyes raking over his tattoos. You've seen it a lot of times, but you're always so astonished at how beautiful everything is. He is so beautiful. 

"I need you inside.", you whisper, moaning as his fingers feel around your wet folds. "Please Harry.."

"Whatever you want, baby." He slips your skirt down your hips, and your panties, before spreading your legs. "So pretty for me.", he praises, looking at your pussy. He brings his fingers to his mouth, getting some saliva on his fingers before rubbing it over your folds. "Everything about you is gorgeous, y/n."

You were tingling, aching for him. You needed to feel full. Harry slips his boxers off, and doesn't waste anymore time. He pushes into you, keeping one hand on your shoulder and the other hand holding his dick. You moan at the feeling as he pushes inside, completely, and he pauses, waiting for you to adjust. 

"You can m-move..please..", you whisper, closing your eyes and he moves in and out of you slowly, but deeply. They were hitting just the right spots, making you grab onto his shoulder, and whimper. "Open your eyes, let me see those pretty eyes y/n.", Harry grabs your jaw and you open your eyes, meeting his green ones. 

"You are perfect, you're my best girl.", he whispers before attaching his lips to yours, groaning as it felt so good. His tongue explored your mouth as you kissed, all your worries melting away as he made love to you. He kept kissing you and whispering praises until you both got close to your releases. 

"Oh fuck, baby I won't last longer..come on, cum for me..", he groans, and you moan his name out loud as your toes curl and your eyes roll back in your head. Harry also cums, and he continues his momentum, carrying you both through your orgasms before he lays on top of you, still inside. 

"I love you.", you whisper, running your hand through his curls. 

"I love you more.", he whispers back, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. "Don't ever doubt yourself due to what someone else might say."

______________________________________________________________

"Love?", you hear Harry call as you go through some emails, and you hum. "Yeah?"

Harry comes to you, and holds out his phone. "It's mom, she wants to speak to you."

"What?", you whisper shout, and he was smiling, nodding as he pushes his phone to you. "Just hear her out for me, please?"

You nod, taking his phone from him and pressing it to your ear. "Hello?"

"y/n? It's Anne, love. I would like to apologize for what happened last night.", Anne says. "Gemma showed me the magazines and what the media says, and I believed them. I just want the best for Harry. I've seen his girlfriends cheat on him, drain his pockets, use him and then just walk out. I'm just protective. And I guess that clouded my brain. I shouldn't have made a judgement like that, without even getting to know you. I'm so sorry, y/n."

"It's okay, Anne.", you immediately say, and Harry smiles. 

"Harry talks about you all the time. You mean a lot to him. And I'm happy with anyone who makes my son happy. Would you want to maybe get lunch tomorrow? Gemma's sorry too, and we both would like to get to know you a bit, yeah?"

"Of course, I'd love that.", you smiled. "I understand your worries Anne, but I'm not like them. I love Harry for the person he is, not for anything else. He's an incredible person, and it's you behind who he is now."

After you finish talking, Harry hugs you tight. "Thanks for giving them another chance."

"They're your family, and I care about you, a lot. So yes.", you say, and squeal as he attacks you in kisses, making you fall back on the couch. "Babe! That tickles!!"

[jadewritesficshere]

Slow and Steady

Steve Harrington x female!reader

Summary: You're ready for your first time with your boyfriend but are nervous based on past experiences. Steve is determined to make you feel good (3-5k words my computer broke around 1500 so I finished this on Tumblr dont know exact word count)

Contains: pure smut, reader has vaginismus (not explicitly named in the fic), talks of anxiety/nerves/doubt, fingering, cumplay, p in v, no condoms please wrap it up, creampie, pet names (Steve calls you Baby)

please note I am not a doctor. This is based on how sex is for me, not every two experiences are the same

18+ only

You sigh in pleasure. Steve is kissing your jaw, sucking lightly at your pulse that's beating wildly for him. You can feel a rush of tingling warmth spread from your spine to your lower stomach. Your hands roaming up and down his shoulders, trying to memorize the contours of his muscles. The way his hand squeezes your hip as if you would drift away if he let go.

Steve sighs, pressing his forehead into your cheek before giving you a final kiss and starting to pull back. You whine, gripping his biceps. "Steve don't! Plea- keep going!" You aren't sure you're fully making sense as your thoughts are only Steve Steve Steve. "Baby, I don't want to get carried away without talking first," Steve cups the side of your face with his hand, thumb lightly moving back and forth over your cheekbone.

"I want to make sure you're ready," Steve says looking deep into your eyes. You look away, feeling ashamed. You shouldn't be, you know this. But that doesn't stop that feeling from welling up.

You remember the first time you had sex, how much it hurt. But people told you that was normal, that it's better the next time because you weren't a virgin anymore. But that time hurt like hell too. And the next. And the next. Like you were being ripped apart, like there was something wrong.

And then your doctor told you the name of it and how some women had it. Said there were ways to work around it and work through it, but it was like cotton in your ears. All you heard was there was something wrong with you. You know there isn't, but your deceitful mind tells you there is. And now you tense up as things start to progress, making things worse unintentionally. All you could think was, 'well no one would want to work through it since no one else has before.'

But then Steve came in and tore all your defenses down. Weasled his way in with stupid pickup lines and free car rides. Rolled his eyes and gave you a 'are you seeing this?' look as he bickered with the kids before sighing dramatically and giving them what they wanted. Would wear a stupid apron when he cooked and would sneak food off his plate onto yours to make sure you had enough. You didn't stand a chance.

When Steve made out with you for the first time you wanted to cry. Thought "well this is it. He's going to leave like the rest after this." But when you stopped him, he didn't pout. He didn't roll his eyes or gripe at you, claim you led him on. Didn't try to force the issue. Steve took your no as a no and asked no questions, just pulled back smiled at you with a bulge in his pants and asked if you wanted to choose the movie now.

You broke down in tears as he tried to comfort you. And you told him everything. About how it hurt and had never been enjoyable for you. How you were scared it would hurt again. How you really liked Steve and wanted to do it with him but didn't want to disappoint him like the others. How you didn't want him to leave like the others.

And Steve let you cry into his shirt. And Steve calmed you and told you, "I'm sorry they never took care of you the way you deserve to be taken care of. If you never want to have sex, we don't have to. I love you regardless of sex, I mean yeah it would be fun and I'd like to, but like- if you aren't having a good time I don't want to do it. If you do want to try, Baby, we can take it really slow. Slow and steady. But I don't want you to feel pressured to have sex, we don't need it. If you want it we can and if you never want it we don't have to."

It was like a balm to your soul. Aloe vera on a burn you didn't realize still stung. Just knowing Steve cared enough to not call it quits made you feel desired. But that little lying voice in your head said he'd get upset and move on.

But months passed and Steve stayed. Lovely, caring Steve. Steve who held your hand and proclaimed it was a perfect fit. Steve who kissed you so sweetly, following your lead. Steve who never protested or became frustrated when you stopped things from furthering on. Steve who would help you slip your shirt back on and hold you close after making out. Steve who never once complained about "leading him on" like others have.

Steve who was the first to say," I love you," and never pushed you to say it back. Steve who bought your favorite books and tried to read them so he could have another bond with you. Steve who always knew what to say to brighten your day. The Steve who showed he loved you in every little way he cared for you.

A hand on your face snaps you back to the moment. Steve frowns slightly," You okay? You went somewhere for a minute." You shrug," Got lost in my thoughts." Steve's eyes bore into your own, as if trying to see into your mind. "If you want to stop here, we can-" "No!" You interrupt, running a hand from his shoulder to the back of his neck.

Steve pauses, waiting on you. "I want to continue. I'm just...nervous? They say relax, but then how do they expect me to relax when I know how its been in the past? And then I get tense because I'm nervous and then I'm nervous because I'm tense and then-" Steve cuts you off with a kiss. Your eyes flutter shut as he gently kisses you. It's so tender and sweet, you can practically feel the cavities forming from how sweet it is.

Steve pulls back enough to say," If anything is uncomfortable or hurts you tell me okay? If you want to stop then you say it." You nod but Steve clicks his tongue," I need your words Baby." "Yeah, okay."

Steve kisses your forehead, murmuring an "I love you". He leans back enough to help you pull your dress off and over your head. "Fuck me," he whispers, mouth falling open. Any thoughts of cowering or hiding yourself melt away as his eyes further light up with lust. "Planning to," You grin.

Steve snorts as he laughs, shaking his head slightly before ripping his shirt off. You bite your lip as you look at Steve unabashedly. Usually you try to sneak peeks, like when he lifts his shirt to wipe sweat off his forehead after a run. But now you can just look. You tentatively run a hand through his chest hair, causing him to shiver.

"Now here's what we're gonna do," Steve lightly palms himself over his jeans, groaning before speaking with a raspier tone," I'm going to take such good care of you. You're gonna take your underwear off and-"

You push your underwear down, kicking them off. Steve's jaw goes slack as he stares at your glistening cunt. "That all for me?" Steve asks. "All for you. I want you," You reach a hand out and press against his bulge, causing him to let out a whine before he grips your wrist. "Get comfortable Baby."

You lay back against the bed, relaxing into the pillows. "Now, you're gonna finger yourself." Steve instructs. You scoff," Didn't you just say you were gonna take care of me?" Steve smirks as he grabs your hand," Oh I will, but look," He holds his palm against yours," My fingers are so much bigger then yours."

It's shocking how big his hands are compared to yours. His fingers are longer and thicker then yours. You can feel yourself get wetter at the thought, but also a hint of nerves come back.

As if Steve has a glimpse into your mind, he slowly runs a hand up your shoulder to cup your face," There's no rush. I can do this all night. Slow and steady, remember?" Steve leans in and kisses you softly. You sigh into the kiss, slowly melding your mouth against his. The tip of his tongue traces your lip, leaving you begging for more.

Steve pulls back enough to whisper," Touch yourself," before trailing kisses to your jaw and neck. You can't suppress the shiver that runs through you as he hits that one spot. Steve lightly sucks on your neck as you slowly trail a hand down.

Your trembling (from nerves, excitement, or pleasure you can't tell) fingers slowly part your lips. You can feel how wet you are, starting to drip onto your thighs and under you. You slowly circle your clit, relaxing at the feeling of pleasure taking over. You moan softly as Steve continues to pepper your neck with kisses.

You lower your hand further, fingers tracing your entrance. You coat your fingers with your slick before slowly pushing your middle finger in. It doesn't hurt at the moment, but feels uncomfortable. Your brow furrows slightly, concern starting to come back. Steve is there though, kissing your forehead until you relax and using one of his large fingers to deftly circle your clit.

You pump your finger in and out, discomfort dissipating each time until you're reveling in the feeling. "There ya go," Steve murmurs reverently as your mouth falls open at how good it feels. Steve wraps his hand around your wrist, causing you to whine as he pulls your hand away.

Steve maneuvers your hand so only two fingers remain up before guiding them back to your pussy. "There you go Baby. Doing so well," Steve praises as you slowly insert the two fingers. It takes a second to adjust, to get used to the feeling.

But Steve distracts you by kissing down your chest. He reaches behind you and unsnaps your bra with one hand, the other grabbing your wrist and guiding you into a faster pace.

You let the bra straps fall down your arms, laying loosely. Steve peels your bra down and groans as your breasts sway slightly. "So fucking gorgeous," Steve groans," Doing so good." You don't even have a chance to warn him as you tumble over the edge of pleasure. You moan and gasp as you writhe against your hand. His tongue feels electrifying as he circles it around your nipple, finger circling your clit again.

You can barely hear Steve saying," That's my girl. Doing so well Baby." Your mouth is hanging open as you take in deep breaths. Warmth, euphoria, and ecstasy flow through your body freely. You come back to your body slowly, aware of Steve holding you hand, his thumb moving back and forth caressing your hand.

"My turn to touch you Baby," Steve growls out. You blink up at him a few times, still coming back down to earth. You nod as you remove your fingers. They glisten in the light from your wetness. Steve inhales sharply before darting forward, licking your fingers. You aren't sure if it was you or him who gasps, but Steve's mouth is suddenly surrounding your fingers.

Steve sucks and licks the wetness off your fingers. His eyes flutter shut as he moans. You can feel yourself getting more turned on as you watch Steve. Steve blearily opens his eyes, still sucking on your fingers. His eyes heavy with lust.

You gasp as Steve trails a finger through your folds, coating them in your release. Steve pulls off your fingers with a sudden pop, lips glistening from spit and cum. "You taste so fucking good Baby. Can't wait until I can bury my face in your pussy," Steve slowly inserts a finger as he speaks," But we'll save that for next time okay?"

His finger is definitely bigger then yours. It is slightly uncomfortable, but not painful. Steve redirects your attention by circling your nipple with his tongue again. With his free hand, he caresses and pulls the nipple he is currently not kissing and sucking on.

Steve adds a second finger once he's felt you fully relax against him. Once he's seen the unconscious tension in your shoulders go away. When he sees the clench of your jaw and your furrowed brow relax. Steve knows you have no clue you are doing this, but he is attentive and sees the signs.

When Steve adds a third finger is when you sharply inhale. Steve immediately pauses," Too much? What do you need?" "Just give me a minute," You try to steady your breathing. It doesn't hurt but it doesn't not hurt. It's a pressure and a pinch and pain but not the worst pain you've ever felt.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, looking away. "For what?" Steve frowns and grasps your chin, forcing you to look at him," Baby, it's okay! I can spend all day here with you- i want to spend all day with you. It doesn't bother me that this takes time. I love you. You're worth it. You're like everything to me. You should enjoy this too, not just me."

You can feel the tears start to form but you blink them away. You lean forward and kiss Steve again. He hums slightly against you before deepening the kiss. His tongue sweeps into your mouth, pulling moans and gasps from you. You barely notice Steve moving his hand again, pumping his fingers in and out of you.

When Steve pulls back, his lips are swollen and his face flushed," Do you think you are ready or do you want me to add another finger?" You pause for a moment to think before whispering," I'm ready, just...go slow?" Steve smiles and kisses your forehead," I can do that. That's my middle name." You giggle as Steve blinks at you," That was dumb forget i said that."

He removes his fingers and you can feel yourself clench at the loss. But your heart beat picks up in anticipation as Steve finally sheds his boxers.

Steve can't help but smirk as your jaw drops. Steve is big. Bigger then you expected him to be. There's a prominent vein you want to lick, follow all the way up to the flushed tip. There is pre-cum leaking from the top. You can see at least one freckle near the base, and another on one of his balls.

Steve crawls over you, hovering above. "You ready?" He asks, eyes staring into yours. You nod. "Want to hear your pretty voice Baby," Steve threads his hand in yours. "Ready as I'll ever be," You grin shakily.

Steve positions himself at your entrance. "Hold onto me, okay?" Steve inhales and slowly exhales. You run your hands up his shoulders to the column of his neck before threading a hand through his hair.

You squeeze his hand tight as the tip of his penis enters you. "I got you, I'm sorry," Steve murmurs as he squeezes his eyes closed. "Don't be," you gasp. It isn't painful like it has been in the past. It's a stretch, slightly uncomfortable, but not painful.

Steve murmurs praises once he's seated fully in you. You exhale slowly as you get used to the feeling. Any further nerves and tension slowly goes away. You feel so good. Full. You lean forward barely touching Steve's lips with yours. Steve chases you, enveloping your mouth with his.

"Please move Steve," you whisper in between kisses. He nods. Steve slowly moves out, it makes you want to weep at the loss, but he's suddenly filling you again.

You gasp in pleasure. It's never been like this. Felt so good. "Fuck," you gasp out, nails scratching against Steve's shoulder. He grabs your leg and positions it around his hip, driving deeper into you," Yeah, we are."

You would chuckle, but you can barely think straight. Warmth spreads throughout your limbs. Pleasure. Ecstasy. You moan wantonly as you writhe against Steve as your orgasm overtakes you. Steve squeezes your hand in his, grounding you into this moment, as he presses his forehead to yours.

Every breath you exhale, Steve inhales, and vice versa. His weight pressed against you, holding you close. His hips stutter against yours, you feel his warm wet seed paint the inside of your walls. You are wholly consumed by Steve.

You slowly come back to your senses, to Steve kissing your neck. You hum slightly, pulling back to look at him. "That was...amazing," you smile at him. Steve grins back before kissing you once more," Let me get something to clean you up, I'll be right back."

You feel empty as Steve pulls out, a slight sting at the loss that dissipates quickly. Your combined release spills out of you as Steve stands up. Steve's jaw drops slightly at the sight, stomach muscles twitching as his cock kicks back up in interest.

Steve shakes his head and returns to the task at hand. He heads into the attached bathroom, grabbing a washcloth and running it through warm water. When he returns, he carefully cleans you. You shift uncomfortably from the unexpected texture against your sensitive skin.

As soon as Steve is done, he tosses the washcloth towards the hamper. He scowls as he misses, causing you to laugh. He crawls into bed next to you," Foul play, I was distracted." "Oh?" "Mmhmm" Steve covers you with a blanket and pulls you into his side.

You curl into Steve, hand resting against his chest. You can hear his steady heart beat. You absent-mindedly trace letters on his skin. "I love you," you murmur. You pause, waiting for a response.

Your brow furrows and you lift your head to look at Steve, who remains silent. You snort out a laugh. Steve's eyes are closed and his jaw slack as he breathes through his mouth. Dead asleep as you confess your love for him. You grin as you kiss his pec, laying your head back down.

You'll tell him again when he wakes. And again that evening. And again. And again. And-

[dreadsuitsamus]

Family | Kakashi Hatake x Reader |

author's note: i love family man kakashi and i'm not sorry!! papashi has me in a chokehold, and i love, love, love writing these domestic au's that aren't entirely romance centered. this can be read as a standalone but serves as a follow-up to blessings

pairing: kakashi hatake x fem!reader

warnings: light angst, modern au, naruto and sasuke are adopted

"Incoming." Kakashi says lazily from his spot on the couch, watching out of the window as the school bus drops the kids off right in front of the house.

You smile to yourself in the kitchen, already having plated the sliced apples with a spoonful of peanut butter, plus some quartered string cheese sticks onto paper plates. Your boys are always hungry coming home from school, and lord forbid if you were running just a bit late.

The front door bursts open and your two second-grade sons, Naruto and Sasuke, rush inside. Naruto immediately jumps onto his father, his laughter bright when he starts to receive tickles from Kakashi's nimble fingers.

"Pa!" He shrieks, wiggling around and fruitlessly attempting to get away.

"Whaaaaat?" Kakashi snickers, still tickling his blond boy. "I thought you wanted to say hi to your Pa? This is hello!"

While Kakashi and Naruto play on the couch, Sasuke sulks into the kitchen. He's quiet as he sits at the table and pushes his plate aside to set his homework down, putting down two worksheets and his pencil pouch; his face is unreadable as he starts reading the instructions. He's a very diligent student already, which doesn't really surprise you much, so you smile and set down a pouch of fruit juice.

"Good afternoon, honey." You press a sweet smooch to his forehead. "How was school today?"

"S'okay." He mutters.

"Mm, alright." You give him another kiss and head back to the sink of dishes you'd put together to wash before your sons came home. Sasuke was always more reserved than Naruto, yet the feeling that something's wrong creeps up your back. You can't figure a way to explain it that makes sense— but you know your boy better than anyone else, even his father. Something is eating at him.

"Naruto, darling, come eat your snack and start your homework please!" You call out, and his speedy footsteps start rushing to the kitchen. Before sitting down, Naruto slings his backpack under the table and rushes to you, hugging the back of your legs.

"Thanks, Momma!"

Goodness you can't help the swell of your heart every time he calls you that. "You're very welcome, sweetheart. Go on now, before your juice gets warm."

Naruto runs to the table and immediately starts working on his snack, whereas Sasuke is diligently practicing his handwriting worksheet, snack forgotten. For his age he has incredible handwriting, unlike his brother's absolute chicken scratch. Hell, you think he just might have you beat too.

"Where's my snack?" Kakashi hums while walking into the kitchen, placing his hands on your hips and kissing just behind your ear. You chuckle softly and continue scrubbing a plate while your husband works his nimble fingers where your thighs and hips meet, ghosting his lips along the back of your neck.

"Hmmm, something tells me it's not in the kitchen."

"On the contrary, yes it is." He nips your neck sharply, smooching the same spot with a small, apologetic kiss.

"You want my apple, Pa?" Naruto asks, suddenly at your side, holding up an apple.

"Sure do, kiddo." Kakashi picks up Naruto, kissing his cheek before opening his mouth up for Naruto to place the apple into his mouth. He returns Naruto to the table and fishes his homework from his bag, setting it out in front of him as he finishes the bite. "I also want you to get these worksheets done."

Naruto pouts, but Kakashi pulls a chair to sit beside him. "Come on, they'll be quick and easy, and then you'll get to go play before dinner."

"Okay, Pa!" Naruto gets a pencil from his orange pencil pouch, and from there he and his father tackle the handwriting worksheet.

You finish the dishes and wipe off the counters, listening as Kakashi and Naruto work on the little one's homework. Your heart is always full in these moments, the ones where Kakashi can quickly transfer between husband and father with ease and be the man he's needed to be at any given time. He's the perfect man for this family.

Sasuke is just finishing his work up, neatly placing the worksheets into his folder and packing it back into his bookbag for safekeeping. You smile at your son when his eyes meet yours. "You didn't eat your snack, honeybunch."

"Not hungry." He sulks away and starts heading upstairs.

You frown and look back at your husband, whose eyes are met with yours. He nods in the direction of the stairs, his silver hair falling in front of his face. You sigh and begin heading upstairs to talk to Sasuke, Kakashi and Naruto's voices fading with each step upwards.

"Pa, you need a haircut!"

"You think so?"

"Uh-huh."

"Hmm, maybe you're right."

With a careful sigh as you walk to Naruto and Sasuke's room, your eyes sparkle in amusement at the various signs they made for their bedroom door, including one appropriately titled NO GIRLS (XCEPT MOMMA) with a drawing of a girl that looks suspiciously like Sakura crossed out.

You knock gently. "Sasuke, can I come in?"

"... Okay."

You open the door up and step in, noting the mess you didn't get to clean up today. Dinosaur toys litter the floor and their clothes are, frustratingly, everywhere but the hamper. You'll get to it tomorrow, you decide, and sit down on the edge of Sasuke's bed, where he's curled up with his Nintendo in his little hands.

"Talk to me, baby." You say softly. "What's going on?"

"Nothing." He shifts uncomfortably, eyes on the screen of his handheld.

"Mm, I know you better than to believe that, Sasuke. I can help you make it better if you tell me what's up, y'know."

His jaw tightens and his eyes darken. You've seen him angry before, typically at his slightly younger brother, but this is different than minor irritation. "I'm fine, Momma."

"Alright." You hold your hands up. "I'll let you play your game." Perhaps Kakashi will have better luck; Sasuke's always adored his Pa and their bond is stronger, just as your bond with Naruto is.

You stand and head for the door, glancing at the picture of your brother hanging on the wall beside Naruto's bed. Your fingers are gentle against the glass for just a brief moment as you look at the photo, touching it like how you long to just hug your brother one last time. The pain of how fast everything happened still echoes in your heart, even after seven years.

I miss you, Minato. I hope you're proud of me.

You shut the door behind you, unaware that Sasuke had watched your interaction with the photo. He sees it every time you do it. He and Naruto are aware they were adopted; you and Kakashi had sat the boys down a handful of months ago and told them the truth after Naruto asked why the man in the photo looked like him. Believing they deserved to know their own origins and wanting to teach them about their parents, you and Kakashi told them everything. That man was Naruto's biological dad that died when Naruto was born, along with his mother, Kushina. It rocked Sasuke to his core to learn that technically, you and Kakashi weren't really his parents. But you both had loved him and raised him all the same, and as far as he was concerned you really were his mother and father.

But the more he looks at Naruto and the picture of that man on the wall, the harder it becomes to not be jealous of his brother. That man on the wall was his dad, and you were that man's sister. He came from a completely different family and was only connected by a piece of paper because you felt sorry for him. He was placed into your life abruptly; you didn't choose him!

His real mother is dead, his real brother is gone, and his real father is in prison for the rest of his life. More and more he feels like he doesn't belong, even though he wants nothing more than to be here. He wants to continue being loved like he had been, and wishes every day that he didn't know the truth.

What were his parents like? His brother? Would he have been potentially even happier than he is now? Or would it be worse? He doesn't have an older brother, since Naruto is technically younger than him. Would Itachi have loved him? He hears Gaara talk all the time about his older siblings and how they play pranks on him sometimes, or how they can be mean to him. Was that the kind of brother he would've had, versus the energetic, annoying yet kind and loving brother he has now?

Would his real mom and dad love him as much as you and Pa do? He can't imagine what it would be like to not have you in his life. What if something happens and you send him away? Or what if his real father gets out of prison and he has to go live with a complete stranger?! He doesn't want to be alone.

Sasuke sniffles and turns off his Switch, curling into a ball and crying into his arms.

"No luck?" Kakashi murmurs in your ear once Naruto has finished his homework and gone outside to play with Gaara and Rock Lee.

"No." You shake your head, worrying your lower lip with your teeth as you rummage through the cabinets for some olive oil. "He doesn't want to talk with me about it. He doesn't even admit that there's something bothering him in the first place."

Kakashi's strong arms slip around your waist, halting your anxious rummaging and easing your nerves with a strong squeeze. "I'll give it a shot."

"I just want to know what he's so upset about." You whimper, sniffling as you brush away a tear threatening to slip from the corner of your eye.

"I know, baby. Just relax— what're you searching for?"

"Olive oil, I'm making yellow rice tonight." You murmur.

He turns his head and glances at the shopping list on the refrigerator, olive oil being the very first thing listed. Sasuke's heavy on your mind if you've already forgotten what you wrote down mere hours ago— and he'll be damned if he allows something to threaten his wife's happiness for long.

"I'll go pick some up."

"Thank you." Another sniffle is followed by two fresh tears falling down your cheeks, and Kakashi kisses them away before delicately pressing his lips into yours.

"I'll be right back." He promises, and as he scoops his wallet and keys into the pocket of his leather jacket, he takes one glance at the staircase before jogging up and heading towards Naruto and Sasuke's bedroom.

"Knock, knock." Kakashi says as he opens up the door; he's a little less afraid to invade the boy's privacy than you. "Sasuke, you're coming to the store with me."

"I don't wanna." Sasuke murmurs into his pillow, the fabric of the pillowcase thoroughly soaked in the midst of his post-cry, thousand-yard stare. He's facing the wall and away from his father, but the sound of Sasuke's congested voice is telling enough.

"It wasn't a request, Sasuke." Kakashi's tone is firm but gentle, and Sasuke knows better than to go against his father when he uses that voice. So he pushes himself up and slips on his favorite Crocs, head lowered as he follows Kakashi down the staircase. Kakashi turns his head in the direction of the kitchen, calling out to you. "I'm taking Sasuke with me, baby!"

"Be careful, I love you both!"

"I love you!" Kakashi yells back before heading out the front door with the boy, allowing him to sit in the front seat.

"Why were you crying?" Kakashi hums softly as they wade into traffic, stopping at the red light.

"I-I wasn't-"

"Sasuke, I've known you for your entire life. I know when you're upset, when you've cried— I even know when you need to poop."

"Pa!" Sasuke whines, chunky cheeks reddening.

"And so does Momma. Who, by the way, is worried sick about you."

Sasuke drops his head. He didn't mean to worry you; he just didn't want anything to happen if he opened Pandora's box. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry, honey." Kakashi sighs softly, pressing his foot to the gas when the light turns green. "But I would like to know what's been making you so upset lately. You're not acting like my little boy. More and more you just seem so sad."

Sasuke sniffles as the tears rise back up again. "I am sad, Pa."

Kakashi turns into the parking lot of the grocery store, quickly finding an open spot and settling the car into it. "Why, baby? What happened?"

Sasuke's little hands cover his face and a broken sob leaves his lips, and in an instant Kakashi is out of the car and opening Sasuke's door, pulling him in for one of his strong, reassuring hugs. "Shhh, baby, it's okay…" He coos softly into his son's dark hair, rubbing large, warm circles against his back.

"I-I…" Another sob cuts him off and Kakashi feels the tears soaking his neck. What on earth has Sasuke so worked up?? It's entirely unlike him to be this way; neither of the boys ever had a penchant for crying, though if Kakashi had to pick a crier of the two, it would be Naruto.

"Take a deep breath, Sasuke." Kakashi murmurs, continuing to rub the little one's back. "Big, relaxing breath. In through your nose, out through your mouth." He coaches gently, pressing a soft kiss to Sasuke's raven hair.

"I don't wanna go away!" Sasuke's cry is muffled into Kakashi's chest, and the doting father blinks.

"Sasuke-" Kakashi pulls back enough to see his son's red, tear-stained face. "Why do you think that would happen??"

"B-Because I'm not s'posed to be here! I-I'm from a different fam'ly!"

Kakashi's poor heart shatters at the idea that's been running through his boy's head, and he gathers up Sasuke in a tight, warm hug, nearly crushing the boy to his chest. "Sasuke." He chides softly. "You're here with us because that's where the universe decided you needed to be; and while you may have been born under a different name, you are my son."

"B-But what about Naruto?" He asks, sounding so small and frightened and god Kakashi has never been happier that Sasuke confides in him rather than you, because if you were to hear this from Sasuke directly, you'd surely create a new Nile river from your tears alone.

"What about Naruto?" Kakashi hums. "He's with this family for the same reason you are; you needed us. And we needed you guys just as much. I'd dare say me and Momma needed you more than ever." You two have certainly grown closer and developed an even stronger marriage as a result of the sudden parenthood.

"But he's Momma's nephew." Sasuke whimpers, and that's when it truly clicks for Kakashi.

"Sasuke, honey… Did you know that your Momma was adopted too?"

And judging by the blink and the physical recoil as Sasuke finally looks into his father's eyes, Kakashi deduces that he did not.

"She- She was?"

Kakashi can't help but laugh; to him you're so obviously not biologically related to Naruto, but he supposes children wouldn't think twice about it. And they shouldn't, he reasons. You all are as much of a family as any other; he loves his babies, and they are his. "I speak nothing but the truth, kiddo."

"Oh…" Sasuke wipes at his wet eyes, Kakashi supplying him with a napkin from his glove compartment.

"I don't know what's gone through that mind of yours, but listen to me now, Sasuke. You make this family whole. If any one of us were to go away, it would be incomplete. You and your brother are mine and Momma's greatest blessings; do you understand? We love you, Sasuke. We have since the very day you were put into our care, and that's why we adopted you."

"Not just 'cause you had to?" Sasuke murmurs as Kakashi takes over the napkin operation, wiping away Sasuke's tears and snotty nose.

"Of course not; if we didn't want to raise you, we would have sent you to foster care. And that was absolutely not going to happen."

"Okay." Sasuke sniffles again, but his heart fills with hope at his father's promises— Pa doesn't tell lies, after all, so he trusts the claims.

"C'mon now, we gotta get Momma some olive oil." Kakashi stands and tosses the napkin into a nearby trash can, chuckling softly when Sasuke slips his little hand in his father's much larger one.

They retrieve the oil quickly, and at the checkout Kakashi picks up a candy bar with a sly wink to Sasuke. "Don't tell your mother we had candy before dinner. And absolutely do not tell Naruto." Kakashi could never dream of sneaking in some candy before dinner with his other boy, as much as he loves him. He's just too damn talkative!

Sasuke smiles, tears and worries already long forgotten by the time they finish their chocolate bar and head home. Sasuke rushes in for a big hug, and while it briefly shocks you (Sasuke never does this; it's certainly one of Naruto's signature moves) you manage to get it together and hug your little man. "Hey baby. Thank you for going with Pa to get Momma some olive oil."

"You're welcome, Momma."

"I'll go get Naruto." Kakashi hums, leaving you and Sasuke to cook the rice together and set the table after giving you a kiss and a hidden smirk, and you smile to yourself— Kakashi's taken care of everything.

Kakashi returns after a few minutes with Naruto on his back, and loudly your son begins explaining how he and his friends were playing ninja, and that he was so clearly the best one. Sasuke frowns and interjects— clearly he would be the better shinobi, and you laugh to yourself as they begin to argue.

Kakashi follows you to the kitchen, holding you from behind as you get the rice going. "He's all better now."

"I can tell." You coo and turn your head to recieve a kiss from your husband. "My magic man…"

The corner of your husband's lip quirks up, and he gives you a lingering kiss, gently swaying with you until you've got the rice set and turning you to face him for a slow dance in the middle of the kitchen. You hum a soft tune and follow his lead, the sound of the boy's arguing over what wins between wind and fire tuning out when Kakashi's soft, pink lips are back on yours once again.

"I love you." You murmur against his lips.

"I love you more." Kakashi presses his chin on the top of your head, pulling you impossibly closer and slipping his eyes shut. "Without you, I don't have this family."

"We're all equally important in that regard." You kiss above his heart. "We made this together."

Kakashi smirks and catches Sasuke's eye once he realizes they boys have stopped arguing, giving him a subtle wink and feeling his heart grow impossibly fonder of his family when Sasuke grins at him. He could never, would never find a better life for him than the one he's got now.

[thewitchblue]

Damian didn't like the idea of betraying you, but he wanted to keep you close. It was impossible to not love you, so if his father's ridiculous testing means keeping you, he'll do it.

You had left Tim on his bed and helped Alfred with his packing. You lifted up a nerdy video game shirt with a small smile.

"Esto es lindo (this is cute). Does he wear this often?"

You turned to look at Alfred, who smiled at the shirt. He pulled out his phone and brought up a photo of Tim during their family movie night wearing that shirt and trying to throw popcorn into his mouth. You giggled as he said,

"Only around the house, my dear."

You turned your gaze back to the shirt before folding it up and placing it in the suitcase.

"He looked as adorable as I thought he would. How long do you think you guys are going to be visiting New York?"

Alfred frowned. He said,

"I'm unsure. We should pack more than less."

You nodded before continuing to look through his closet.

He had too many boring suits and not enough regular clothes. If you are going to bring him home, there is zero chance you're bringing a posse of boring businessmen. Tus primos te darían un infierno si lo hicieras (your cousins would give you hell if you did).

You pursed your lips as you hold up a neon pink shirt that only has the word replacement on it. "It's even highlighted by the shirt color!" was printed under it.

It was a gag gift from Jason on his birthday last year. You asked angrily,

"Who gave him this?"

Alfred, who has context, looked surprised at the appearance of the shirt. He thought that shirt would be in the far corner of his closet or even thrown away. It seemed like he blinked and Tim's closet was neatly organised.

"Why does he have a shirt that says replacement?"

You sounded angry. Why can't they love Tim and Damian like the other kids seem to love each other? It seems like Tim and Damian were forgotten or loved less than the other two. You want to just pick them up and whisk them away.

You sighed sadly. If only you had known sooner. Then you could have taken them both in. Miguel and you would have made it work.

Alfred, as if sensing your sadness, placed a hand on your shoulder. You looked at him with a small smile.

"I can finish the packing if you would look after master Tim for me."

You nodded and allowed Alfred to swap places with you. You sat on the edge of the bed Tim is sleeping on with a small smile on your face. Tim looked so peaceful. He was knocked out completely at this point. He was curled up to find the heat of your body once more, so you allowed it and placed him on your lap.

You busied yourself by playing with his hair and watching Alfred carefully. As he lifts up a suit to fold and pack, you quickly say,

"¡Nada de trajes! Nunca escucharé el final si aparece con un traje." (No suits! I'll never hear the end of it if he showed up in a suit)

Alfred, mildly confused, set the suit back in the closet. They packed enough clothes as is, so he let it be and packed other necessities. You thank the old man as he finishes the packing.

"I don't know what Tim would have packed if I let him pack himself. Boring suits would totally kill the vibe my family has."

Alfred chuckled softly. He knows you have a big personality, so he suspected that would be the case. He hoped the others packed accordingly.

"You may have to check the others' suitcases to make sure you approve of the clothing choices."

Your eyes widened and you quickly stand up after moving Tim's body off you.

"Right! ¡Audios y gracias! (Bye and thanks!)"

You give Alfred a quick kiss on the cheek and rush out only to realise you have no idea where everybody else lives and you return.

"Uh, lo siento (I'm sorry) . I don't know where everybody else's room are. Could you guide me?"

Alfred chuckled but led the way to Dick's old room first.

"This is master Dick's room. He doesn't normally like suits, but you better check with him."

You thank him once more and entered the room. You softly smiled as you look around. He's an acrobat as well. A very successful one, at that, judging by the trophies and medals he's won. He startled as he turned and saw you standing around.

"Oh, hey. Uh, what are you doing here?"

You timidly smiled and said awkwardly,

"I'm, uh, here to make sure you don't pack any suits."

Dick looked confused for a moment, so you quickly explain,

"My family aren't the type to like suits and ties for any event. Even weddings are often themed without suits."

You smiled a bit shyly. Dick grinned and picked you up in a hug.

"Oh, I could kiss you! I hate suits!"

You laugh with him and he sets you down. He quickly removes the suit he had packed.

"Who is the next likely to pack a suit?"

You asked. Dick snorted,

"Definitely Bruce. I swear he lives in a suit and tie."

You nod thoughtfully. You feel like you're already on thin ice with Bruce, so you propose,

"If you can get Bruce, I'll get Damian."

Dick smirked at you. Oh, he loved you. He's not letting you go, even after the testing. He jokingly asked,

"Too chicken to speak to the big man?"

You laughed but replied,

"I'd rather face the green goblin again than face Bruce."

Dick tried to play it cool, but he was a bit confused with your phrasing. He had forgotten about the goblin. What do you mean by "again"? He's dead. He isn't going to come back. At least, hopefully he won't come back.

"Alright. I'll tackle Bruce, but you have to get Damian. He loves you, so it shouldn't be too hard."

Dick winked before he left. You wandered around in your hunt for Damian, checking the rooms and eventually finding the correct room.

You leaned against the doorway for a moment. You'll have to teach the spider sense for Damian if he's going to be with your spider family. You kind of stole Miles family for this because yours is mostly the spider people at the Society and Miles is one of the few spiders who still have family alive.

Damian still didn't notice so you knock lightly on the door at your side and say,

"Hey, bug, how is the packing going?"

You asked affectionately as you slowly approached him. He whipped around to face you with a half-drawn sword, as you expected when you spotted the sword sheathed at his side. He sighed in relief that it was you and not someone else.

"I'm still unsure what to pack. Can you help me?"

He asked with a frown on his face. You almost sighed in relief. He didn't pack a suit yet. Good.

"Of course, my love bug. My family would like anything except suits. They would cry with laughter if I brought in a businessman who I want to be my son."

Damian looked confused at the idea of anyone disliking a classic suit. He wants to show off himself and make a proper impression.

"I want to make a good impression. What if they don't like me if I don't behave well?"

He looked so sad that you pulled him into a hug and kissed his forehead gently. That's another thing he loves about you; you hold him with so much care and love that he can't help but feel the connection.

"Bug, they want you to be yourself. They don't want a polished version of you. They are going to be your family, love bug. Show them who you are. Te quiero, bicho (I love you, bug)."

Damian nodded slowly. He'd forgotten what it's like to be a kid, but if that's what your family wanted, then that was what he will be.

"Could you show me what they would like?"

You smile warmly at him. He loved your smile. He loved everything about you, really. You walked to his closet and start going through his clothes. You were surprised by how many suits he had for a kid. It's like he was never allowed to be anything besides the polished rich Wayne. You frowned as you went through his closet.

"You really don't have many casual clothes. Were you ever a kid, love bug?"

Damian bristled. It was true that he was never truly a child. He was a raised assassin. He was holding a sword the second he could walk.

"I suppose not."

He said carefully. You looked saddened by the knowledge. He felt a weird urge to comfort you. He's known you for so little. Why does he feel so much love so suddenly? You pulled him into a tight hug and kissed the top of his head.

"You deserve so much better, love bug. I'm going to give you the childhood you deserve."

You said it like a promise, and you meant it. You planned to undo all the poison in him, which made Damian feel even worse. He'd be betraying you so deeply. He was regretful already.

To distract himself, he asked,

"How do you know when to dodge an attack?"

You looked at him as you finished packing. You were startled by the sudden change of topic, but you didn't mind. He looked so curious that you don't think twice about answering,

"I have a sixth sense. The institute where I got my powers called it spider sense. I can sense danger before it happens. If a knife is thrown at my back, I feel the threat and dodge it before the knife even gets halfway towards me."

He was intrigued now. A precognitive sense made you infinitely cooler and much more dangerous. He had no idea how Bruce would handle this information, but he already wants to keep your secrets. He asked,

"What does it feel like?"

You thought about how to describe it yourself before finally settling to say,

"It's like a tingling or prickling feeling. Almost like the feeling you get when you stand close to lightning. My body knows when and how to dodge attacks. I let my villains get a punch or two in so they don't feel inadequate. It would only make their plans more elaborate and lead to more damage."

Damian was awestruck. You seemed uncomfortably intelligent. You might even surpass Bruce in intelligence if you wanted to put the mental energy to it. You will not be easy to capture again, if Bruce wants him to. He debated for a minute how much he should tell Bruce. He personally witnessed you chose potential death over being theirs, and he has a feeling Bruce would find a way to negate that sense or subdue you and use you as his test subject.

"What did... Miguel? mean when he said to bring your webs? You seem to have organic webs."

You smiled at the mention of Miguel, which irritated him slightly. He would be the first thing to go when he infiltrated your family. You explained,

"I have created different types of webs for different scenarios. My suit has a special contraption I made that alternates between the webs I have available when I request it. I didn't expect to need any of my special webs after the fight before my... capture."

His shoulder slumped, and guilt weaved its way into him. He felt horrible. He gave you a guilty look, but before he could apologise, you said,

"You don't have to apologise for actions you did not cause, bug. Don't feel guilty over the actions of Red Chicken."

He was still guilty as he aided in your capture. He wasn't as hands-on, but he still helped.

He saw you chose potential death over being captured, but he didn't know any better. He insisted it wasn't necessary over the comms. He saw that you weren't dangerous and heard himself that you were leaving Gotham, but Bruce and Tim couldn't be convinced otherwise. What if you come back? They asked with mirrored crossed arms. When Damian exhausted all his points, he decided he needed to see you himself. He didn't know what he expected, but your brilliant mind and quick actions surprised him. He felt like he had to keep you out of obligation towards his family.

"I'm still so sorry. I should have let you be. I should have fought harder for your release."

He refused to cry, but his guilt left him gutted. How could he have let that happen to you? Out of stupid loyalty? You softly said,

"You had no way of knowing about my past. If it would help, I can tell you about what happened."

You pulled him into your chest and held him with soothing hands running along his arms. Does he want to know? Would it make him feel worse? He didn't know if he wanted to be cursed with the knowledge. It was obvious to him that you've been through so much pain. He took a deep breath and said,

"I don't know if it would worsen my guilt, but I think part of me needs to know."

You kissed the top of his head and started your life story,

"I was kidnapped by a group of scientists to do some illegal experiments on me. I didn't have my powers at the time and had no way to escape their torturous methods. I was used as a means to test medical drugs. It wasn't like taking a pill and studying the effects, but it was injections, biopsies, surgeries, I was torture when I disobeyed."

You took a deep breath. Your life has been incredibly difficult, but you never let it stop you.

"I developed a resistance to poisons due to all the tests and eventually gained my own venom when I grew my powers. The scientists didn't mean to give me powers. Their end goal was to find a means to enhance the human body. In a way, they succeeded. They made a combination of every type of spider venom they could find and injected it into me. They were going to rush to get me into surgery to cut me open and see my bodily reaction. They didn't anticipate the combo would give me superpowers, so I managed to escape. They started killing off anyone connected to me in their hunt to get me back. Friends, family, it didn't matter. They were all slaughtered."

Your grip on Damian tightened slightly. It was still painful to remember all the faces. They are all in unmarked graves. You don't even know where they all are. You sighed before continuing,

"My family's death left me lost and I had no friends to turn to. Until Harry showed up and saved me from myself. He took me in and showed me the good side of humanity. The side that I had forgotten. I began helping as a hero. I felt like I owed it to my family and friends."

He was confused now. If everyone is dead, who are they meeting? A fake family? Still, he didn't interrupt you as you continue your story,

"I was kidnapped again. For mere months this time, but it was different. I was being tested for my abilities and finding ways to add to my powers. My healing factor prevented them from cutting me open again, but they could still get samples. Miguel found me after the scientists had left me strapped to my torture chair, and he's been protective over me ever since."

Damian felt heavy at the realisation of how badly he truly will be in betraying you. He had so many questions, but none of them wanted to come out. You both sat in silence for a long time. You looked lost in the memories, but he was lost in the horrifying story. What is he going to do? He needs to protect you. What if something like this happened again? They need to keep you safe. You could go through this a third time without them! He needs to tell father. He'll make you a part of the family somehow. Dick and Terry already love you, so they should be easy to manipulate. Those two might be the best target to get you into the family. The family can protect you better than one vampire spider. Never mind the thousands of spider people he saw who all would defend you with their lives. The Batfamily are better protectors.

There will be nobody else.

[your-dear-memmy]

Juuzou Suzuya & Control yap p. 1

(Tokyo Ghoul:re spoilers)

The way Juuzou sees parental figures is very much skewed given the abuse he suffered at the hands of Big Madam. So, once he associates Shinohara with a father figure (which is even further drilled into him by Mrs Shinohara telling him that Yukinori saw him as a son), even though Shinohara was kind to Juuzou in a way Big Madam wasn't, he approaches the situation the same way, giving him a seemingly morally correct yet violent goal to pursue. Juuzou recognizes Big Madam hurt him and loves her regardless, but even with that realization, he's still playing his puppet role.

Juuzou is still just a weapon.

While as a child he obeyed every order Big Madam gave him, as an adult he obeys every order he's given by the CCG higher ups BECAUSE he thinks that's what Shinohara, his supposed father figure, would want. He thinks that he's supposed to BECOME Shinohara just because Shinohara showed him kindness.

He can't make decisions for himself, because he's never been allowed to, so he doesn't know how. Once he was out of Big Madam's control, he was forced to re-live his trauma by killing again, just because killing ghouls is considered "morally acceptable".

Even though it may not seem like it at first glance, letting him channel his violence the same way he did when he used to be a scrapper, RETRAUMATIZES him.

So even though he gets better and develops empathy (In the Joker chapter of Tokyo Ghoul:re, he stops a girl from being groped on the train because he's been through it as well.) and care (for Shinohara and his own subordinates who seem to trust him a lot), at his core he's still the same traumatized Juuzou; That much is obvious in the way he approaches his rematch with Kurona, demonstrating that he's changed but not completely, because he's willing to kill his friend Sasaki without much thought just because he was told to, and in saying that he smiles the same smile he'd given Big Madam.

Juuzou associates parents with control, and that includes Shinohara, which breaks my heart! So once Shinohara wakes up they seriously need to talk so he can unlearn some of that😭

I haven't finished Tokyo Ghoul:re yet but I already know the ending is rushed and doesn't show anything like that.

I wish Juuzou's character arc included him learning to decide for himself rather than just going along with what everyone says. It's unlikely for him to fully ever recover from his trauma, but that would've been a massive step forward.

[I know I didn't say anything that hasn't been said before, but this is just a way for me to metabolize the chapter I just read, because it makes sense but it still upsets me greatly. As someone else put it, Juuzou's character arcs stagnates in :re. There's still 80 chapters or so for me to read and I kinda lost interest because I'm not liking this one eyed king kaneki making shitty decisions thing. The fact there's only like 4 Juuzou fics makes me wanna kms!!]

{I doubt anyone's gonna read this but if u did tysm and sorry for my english, My way of speaking makes more sense in italian!]

Part 2 has been posted!

[no-name-blu]

GAMESHOW HOST WALLY FIC:

First Punishment

This was supposed to be a comic but then I didn't finish it.

Have it in written format instead :D

Trigger Warnings: Gore, Torture, Manipulation, Abuse, unreliable narrator

Context: This is way back in the show's early days, Wally trusts home and follows his orders without a question. Until this day when he starts thinking about it.

"What a shame! What a thrill! I hope everyone at home enjoyed watching this man perish!" Wally smiles at the camera, while the live audience cheers at his words, he gestures his hand to tone down their voice, and they obey. "Well that's it for our show tonight. My name is Wally, and I'm here to remind you that for every second you sleep at night, you're feeding the spider that lives inside of your ears. Goodni-"

He stopped his closure when he felt a tug on the hems of his pants. With the sound of his neck cracking he spins his head backwards and looks down. A man, who has crawled towards him with only his arms, his bottom half has been torn apart. This bleeding man looks up at Wally with what's left of his eyes, or face. Safe to say he did not look good.

"I'm so sorry... Please let me live." Surprisingly, with his throat accidentally stepped on earlier, this man can speak.

"Wow! And you're also still alive!"

I was about to say that Wally.

"But you're too slow"

"What?" The bleeding, faceless man talks again.

"Oh right, you're still here" Wally looks back at him. "But why would I let you live? You lost!"

"I know that... But, I need to go home. I still have that I love." There's tears coming out, but it only burns on his faceless face. "I did horrible things. But, it's all for them. A father makes sacrifices. I don't deserve this, everything I did is for them, I NEED TO GO HOME"

"...H-Hey... I've seen you on my daughter's-"

With every strength he has left, he raises his voice but Wally didn't say anything, he retracts his head back to normal.

STOMP

With brute force, Wally steps on him as his head explodes. There are chunks that splattered across the floor while his shoes are now stained red.

"Eugh, that's gross" Wally looks down at the mess he made. He calls two of the audience member to dispose the body. While a couple others clean up the studio. It's just another night at work, and Wally can finally wind down after doing a great job.

He walks through the hallways. The wallpaper is patterned with eye designs. Every step he takes feels like the pupils are watching him passing by, Wally is always under his presence at all times.

The moment he enters his dressing room, he can hear the sounds of knocks in the walls.

"Thank you Home. I think I did well today too."

He sits down in front of his mirror, an apple on the table caught his attention. "For me? Thank you Home," Wally takes a bite into the meaty apple. Usually he'd happily enjoy this well-deserved meal but something makes Wally feel confused.

A long concerned creak came out from Home. "Oh, it's nothing. I was just thinking," Wally says, but now there's an insistent knocking.

"Okay, okay. I'll tell you."

He didn't say anything for the first couple of seconds.

"Hey, don't rush me! I'm thinking!"

And then he goes back to "thinking". Which is more on, hesitating.

"Fine... I was just thinking about our contestant earlier."

Now the knocking turned curious.

"He was just supporting his family. Even though harvesting bodies is also not good. I do think he deserves bad things. It's just, all of this is just sad."

Home replies with sounds of agreement, although they are also a bit dismissive to his feelings.

"Am I doing the same thing?"

Wally looks around the dressing room, but Home did not say anything. He looks back at his mirror.

"I found these people just for you. I supported you with these sacrifices. So, if we say that people like that contestant deserved to die, what about me?"

There are creaks trying to reassure him.

"But that doesn't make any sense"

Now there's an impatient creek.

"But, what if we were wrong.."

One. Aggressive. Knock.

"Maybe we could've find a different way to..."

Wally gets lost in his sentence when he notices his reflection turned dark. He leans to take a closer peak at it until something reaches out of the mirror.

He pulled himself away from the mirror, stumbling backwards from his chair and landed on the floor. Wally can't see anything at all, he reaches up to his face where he can feel a persistent piercing pain coming from his face.

"Wh-What did you do?!" He gasps for air frantically when all he sees is nothing. But Wally has no reason to panic, he can't die.

"But it hurts" his voice shakes as he weeps. He reaches out an arm to find his eyes until he feels something grab his shirt and suspends him above the ground.

"Home?"

Wally can feel a huge force at him until his back slams against the wall with a loud thud. The impact shook his whole body, but it also knocked his head so badly that it was nauseating.

I didn't want to hurt you Wally.

But I don't like my temper being tested.

I can do so much torture upon you, but I won't.

You have to understand, we are different from those contestants, the people above.

You're never going to be like them.

The voice makes Wally tremble in fear, Home wasn't like this before. Wally must have pushed it too far, he's lucky Home is being merciful right now.

"I'm sorry."

Home lowers him back to the ground, but Wally didn't have the strength to stand up, he fell to his knees.

"I will stop thinking about this then."

He mutters. Then he felt something bump against his knee, Wally reaches down to grab them.

"Oh, my eyes. Thank you Home"

As long as he does his work, he will be good friends with Home. Maybe Wally is different from that contestant, it's just a dead man in the end. Nothing more.

[chrysoula]

Albedo spent sixty years rescuing Nahida from her cage, because he was looking for a challenge to test himself against. He didn't spend much time thinking about how, after the rush of satisfaction had faded, he would be in possession of a newborn god of wisdom who was so lost she tried to go back into her cage.

"Why are you here?" she asked, puzzled, as soon as the door to her cage opened. "There's so much-- You did so much, so why are you here?"

He stared at her as all of his sense of accomplishment washed away.

She began to gabble. "I knew something was happening, I could see your echoes, the ripples like a fish underwater, and I didn't know what you could want but I helped you when I could, because I wanted to see them beaten so why are you here?"

Because this is the finish line. But he knew better than to say that. Instead, he ran a rapid post-mortem on his plans over the last sixty years. When had the flaw been introduced, and how could he compensate for it?

"Okay," she said into the silence. "Now what?" Her eyes reminded him of glass marbles.

"I don't know what you want me to do," she said bitterly after a moment. "There's nothing I can do."

It was a worldview alien to Albedo. Ever since his mother abandoned him, he'd practiced turning his knowledge into power over the world around him. Before they called him a mastermind, they called him a meddler, and usually he didn't bother tidying up when he was done. 

"Oh. I see," she said, drawing her own conclusion and dropping her gaze. "You didn't come for me after all. How stupid I am." 

And even then, he struggled. He could see the potential shapes of the consequence he'd created and he didn't like them. He'd done something terrible and he had to repair it, but how--??

Tears began to spill from those green eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm just not good enough yet. I shouldn't... I shouldn't get involved." And, wiping her eyes, she'd turned to step back into the cage.

That, at least, he could respond to. "No, don't do that. It would only make things worse."

"What?" She half-turned, her mouth open in surprise.

"Would you like something to eat or drink?" That was probably a safe thing to ask in the situation. The government imprisoning her had been thoroughly disabled that morning. And newborns were often hungry.

"What?" she repeated, and then ran over to him. "Did you change your mind?"

Pleasantly, he said, "I think you did, but that's not an important detail at the moment. Why don't we sit down and talk about a few things?"

She promptly sat down, looking up at him with clear curiosity. He sat down on the ground too, refining his evaluation of her. "First of all, do you have a name of your own? One that doesn't belong to the Archon?"

"Nahida," she said, possibly for the first time. She looked a little surprised, in any case.

"I'm happy to meet you, Nahida. My name is Albedo." He gave her a friendly smile, and she stared at him like she was decoding his face. "Let's try to figure out what you'd like to do now."

"May I ask a question first?" She spoke with a respectfulness he didn't deserve. Not from her, anyhow. He'd have to earn it first.

"Please do. I'll do my best to answer it." While she formulated her thoughts, he began to synthesize some fish snacks he hoped she'd find palatable.

"Beyond your name, who are you?" It was a question carefully considered, and not the one he expected. But her earnest gaze remained fixed on him.

He considered his own response. It wasn't a question he was in the habit of answering. "Mostly, I plan things for other people. I'm quite clever and I've lived a long time compared to most, so I have certain advantages I enjoy sharing. In quite a few places, I'm considered a criminal, because what I help people do is often illegal. " He offered her the fish snacks. "I also engage in projects of my own, like this one."

She accepted one and nibbled on it. He observed as her eyes widened and she nibbled a bit more before finally making a face and putting it down. "I don't know how to taste it right. I'll work on it later."

"Is that what you want to do?" He saw this as a natural way of leading back to the core topic, but when she flinched, admitted to himself that such directness might have been a little cruel after already thrusting so much change on her unannounced.

"Do you think it tastes good?" she asked him uncertainly.

"Yes, I do."

She thought for a moment. "I'd like to learn to like it too, then. And I want to stay with you, please."

Did gods imprint? He'd never looked into the question. But the truth remained: she might be the god of wisdom, but she was also a powerful and traumatized child. If he walked away now, one way or another, she'd show up in his life again, the worse for it.

Calmly, he said, "Yes, I thought you might say that. Do you also want to rule Sumeru?"

She shrugged, curled up in a ball, rocked back and forth. "Sumeru is a dream to me, a world on the other side of pages and glass." Then she sat up again. "But you are somebody I never imagined existed. That seems more interesting than governing a country that doesn't want me to exist, all by myself."

"I agree," he said. "Still, having Sumeru on a stable footing may be useful in the future, so we should probably sort out the knot I made before we go on our way."

[mydearlybeloathed]

Hiii! Can you do neteyam x fem!na’vi reader where they first start dating; it’s kinda awkward cuddling and kissing and it feels unnatural to the reader from not being loved on enough as a child and neteyam confronts reader saying like “do I make you feel uncomfortable?” And readers like “no im sorry I just was never showed this much affection.” And he reassures her abt, it if that makes sense!, Thank you <3

𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you weren’t exactly used to the affection neteyam so easily gave you.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: neteyam sully x fem!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: mention of death, harsh parental figure

𝐚/𝐧: this was so fun to write. it kinda came out a bit more angsty than I intended. I hope its what you wanted :)

also i made up a na'vi word: Le'awtulant. its a combo of le'awtu (lonely) and lante (wander).

It hadn't been but a few months since Neteyam completed his rite of passage, going through each trial and coming out victorious. He was a man, the heir of Toruk Makto, and everyone had their eyes on him.

You'd completed your passage just before him, becoming an adult in the eyes of your clan, and quickly grew a reputation for being quite the hunter among the older Na'vi.

Despite what your guardian, Zet'ka, advised, you hadn't put any effort into searching for a mate out of the many young Na'vi in the clan. Thinking about it sent a rush of nerves into your belly. The most recent time Zet'ka brought it up, you'd gone quiet and stilled in the fixing of your bow.

"I'm just saying," she says, watching as your careful movements continued. "You are a beautiful woman, and you have a strong heart. You could have anyone you wanted if you stopped being so elusive."

You rolled your eyes, ears going flat against your head. Your tail flickered in annoyance, your hands not as gentle as before as you restrung your bow. "I have other things to focus on, Zet'ka."

"Like what?" Your ears twitched at the sternness in her voice.

Zet'ka was always firm, ever since you were a child, left with no parents after an accident in the Hallelujah Mountains. They'd happened upon an ikran nest full of eggs, and... it hadn't gone well.

A sharp tug on your braids had you recoiling from the woman. Zet'ka gripped your shoulder and put you back in place. "Still. Your hair is a mess, Y/N."

You sat and waited for her to finish, gripping your bow as every pull of her hands had you wincing. Zet'ka meant well, she always did, but she'd never smiled as far as you know, and raised you to be a warrior worthy to be counted Omatikaya.

It had been some time since you'd connected with the spirit tree, and you wondered if going back might do you some good. Maybe your parents would appear to you this time.

Zet'ka finished your braids by the time night had fallen, and the clan was beginning to tire from a day of work. The woman patted your shoulder before standing. "I raised you to be better than this. I raised you as a warrior, not Le'awtulant."

You flinched at the word, your hands tightening into uncomfortable fists. Lonely wanderer. Someone the clan doesn't know what to make of. A familiar outsider.

Zet'ka sighed. "You know I only want what's best for you, Y/N."

You stood and faced her with a rigid back, eyes and expression steady. "I know, Zet'ka."

She left you there, allowing you to relax under her scrutinizing eyes. Exhausted, you headed to your hammock high up in the trees overlooking the village. You'd made it halfway there when rain began to fall from the sky, causing your body to sag with the weight of the day.

With your ears flat and tail drooped, arms wrapped around yourself, you hurried for the first dry place you could think of: Olo'eyktan Jake.

It had been awkward, asking the chief for shelter from the rain. It was no secret you were one of the loners of the clan. So, he just nodded as he directed you to find his daughters' hut, just along the next branch of the large tree.

You gave him a grateful nod and headed over, rushing through the increasingly heavy rain. You thought you heard thunder in the distance, but it didn't really settle in. Because now you were standing in front of the entrance to the chief's daughters' hut, and you had no idea what to say.

Tuk and Kiri were nice. You often saw them around the village when you weren't out hunting with the others. Kiri hung out with the alien, the one they call Spider, an awful lot. Tuk could often be found making mischief anywhere she went.

But you'd never spoken to them before. Sure, you knew of each other, but only because you and Kiri used to play together as children, before your parents passed and before she clung to Spider like glue.

Pushing your hand against the flap of the hut, you peeked inside to find the sisters stoking the fire at the center of the circle room. Kiri's eyes darted to you the moment the flap came undone from where she'd tied it down. Her ears twitched curiously. "Y/N?"

You waved with an awkward smile. "Hi, Kiri. Uhm, Olo'eyktan told me to come here, since I usually stay in a hammock and... it's raining so..."

Tuk's face erupted into a bright smile. "Come on, come on."

Kiri pointed as you stepped inside. "And secure that flap."

You did as she directed and turned, fiddling with the beads around your neck. "I'm sorry to be intruding, I--"

"Don't worry," Kiri said, grinning just slightly. "We have room--"

All three of you jerked as thunder cracked against the sky. Your heart skipped as your eyes flickered over the ceiling, waiting. The rain only grew in power.

Kiri looked back at you, then at the roof. She waved you over as she sat down on the surplus of woven blankets she and Tuk had laid out. "Come 'ere. It's warmer near the center."

You wasted no time in making your way over, welcoming the warm feel of the flames as you accepted the blanket Tuk offered you. "Thanks."

The thunder returned, louder than before. Tuk flinched into Kiri's side.

Not even a second later, the flap reopened, this time letting in a gust of wind that nearly took out the fire. You and Kiri growled in unison as you whipped around to see two figures stumbling inside, bickering as they did.

"Neteyam!" Lo'ak hissed, trying to reach for the flap as it whipped around in the wind. "Close it! Close it!"

The elder Sully fell inside, literally, yelping as he tripped over his brother's feet. Tuk leaped up and ran to help, gripping onto the flap in seconds and having it tied back down and extra secure in seconds. No wind got inside after that.

The lot of you stayed in silence for a moment, before Kiri huffed and stood to swat at her brothers. "Idiots! Both of you!"

Lo'ak hissed when she slapped his arm, pursing his lips. Neteyam stood, his braids hanging over his face before he tossed them back. Both of them were soaking wet, getting water all over the floor. Neteyam caught your gaze, his heavy breathing calming as you darted your eyes away.

"What are you doing?" Kiri asked, incredulous, hands on her hips.

Neteyam turned away from you, straightening out his shoulders just for him to laugh bashfully under Kiri's stare. He rubbed at the back of his neck and shot Lo'ak a teasing grin. "Lo'ak--"

"We!" Lo'ak shouted pointedly. "We--"

"We," Neteyam continued, grinning. "Were scared."

Kiri rolled her eyes so far they could've disappeared into her skull. "Fine. Just don't fling water on me."

You couldn't help but snort at the exchange, hiding your smile behind your hand. Lo'ak noticed you then, tilting his head in question. "Y/N?"

Before you could even formulate a reply, Neteyam spoke up as he went to kneel by Kiri. "She sleeps out in the trees, Lo'ak. The storm forced her inside."

Your brows rose at that, tail flicking curiously. "Yeah, what he said."

The night dragged on, no one being able to sleep with the storm in full rage outside. Somehow, you'd been rearranged in your seats, so now you and Neteyam found yourselves side by side, some good space between you.

Though, every once in a while, his tail would brush yours, causing you to tense and wrap the excited appendage around yourself.

You didn't know how the conversation drifted to the subject of mates, but you wanted to change it very fast. But, unlike with Zet'ka, you weren't the one the teasing was directed at.

Lo'ak's eyes danced mischievously. "And then this real Cassanova--"

"Lo'ak."

"--he steps on her tail--"

"Lo'ak."

"--and says he's not interested." The younger Sully brother shook his head in amusement. "And Mom wonders why Neteyam hasn't landed a woman yet."

The man in question sits stiffly, his arms resting on his knees, his eyes narrowed at his brother. His tail brushes your side in its angry sweep across the floor. "Shut up."

Kiri rolls her eyes for what was probably the tenth time that night and scooted closer to the flames. "Leave him alone, Lo. He doesn't have to choose a mate if he doesn't want to."

Something about her words made you feel validated, and you found yourself speaking up for the first time. "If you're so concerned, Lo'ak, surely you've got your eye on someone, right? You've almost completed your passage."

Now with the attention thrown on him, Lo'ak didn't look so amused anymore. He grumbled something under his breath. "... No."

You tsked, dragging your gaze to meet Neteyam's next to you. "Ah, yeah. Too bad things with that one girl didn't work out."

Lo'ak's ears fell flat against his head. "You swore."

You ignored him, turning further to face Neteyam as his expression shifted from frustration to hilarity. "So I'm sitting up in my hammock, right?"

"Y/N."

"Just carving into some wood."

"Y/N."

"Hush. And I look down to see Lo'ak with the sweetest girl. Nali, I think." Kiri gasped, catching on, grinning from ear to ear. Lo'ak was burying himself in the blankets, probably hoping for suffocation. "He calls her pretty and gives her a flower, not listening to a word she tries to say, just for her intended to jump out and shove him away."

The laugh that escapes Neteyam is a hearty sound, light and easy on the ears. Tuk and Kiri laughed too, but you really only heard him. The sound made it difficult to look away from him, but you managed, if only to see the mess that was Lo'ak. From somewhere amidst his blanket tomb, he raised his middle finger.

Lifting your own three-fingered hand, you push down your first two digits and hold up the third. You stare at the gesture as Lo'ak emerges to find you squinting at your hands. "I don't understand your four-fingered gesture."

Your response only sent the other four into a fit of laughter that had you confused, but giggling along with them all the same. By morning, you were sad to see the storm fading, having had too much fun just talking with the Sully kids.

It'd been too long since you'd let yourself relax like that, you realized.

You thought that things would go back to normal, and you would stick to yourself like you always had, only talking to the others in your hunting party and Zet'ka on occasion, but you were very wrong.

Months went by where a day hadn't ended till at least one of the Sully kids had found you, wherever you were hiding that day. Sometimes it was Tuk who needed someone to force her siblings to let her tag along with them. Or Neteyam wanted to hunt with her. Other days Lo'ak invited her to explore with Kiri and Spider. Neteyam would ask to fly on the ikran together. Kiri would beg you to join in her healing lessons, hoping your presence would force away the boredom. Neteyam just wanted to talk sometimes. A lot of the time he just wanted to talk, or fly, or hunt, or just about anything of the like.

It made you blush to think about it.

The name Neteyam became as easy as breathing. You actively searched him out in a crowd, finding his eyes already having found you. You hadn't ever laughed as much as he made you laugh, smiled as much as he made you smile.

Soon enough, you couldn't deny the growing tension festering between you and the elder Sully brother. You couldn't deny it, not in your heart, but you could avoid it just fine.

That's what you were doing now as you stormed through the dense forest, paying no mind to the man trailing in your wake. Your heart beat more wildly in your chest each time he said your name.

"Y/N," he called, trying to reach for your hand. "What's wrong? What did I do?"

"Nothing!" You exasperated, finally turning and throwing your hands up. "You've done nothing."

He didn't look convinced. "Then why," he demanded, "are you actively running away from me." Your tail swished defensively at that. "All I asked was if you wanted to stay with Kiri again. Rain clouds are rolling in."

In the quiet that followed, all you could do with cross your arms and look somewhere behind him, almost haughty when you said, "You make a good point, and I'm choosing to ignore it."

Neteyam cracked a grin, taking a step closer to you. You stood and watched, your ears darting forward at the sound of a twig underfoot. "Are you upset with me?"

Though he smiled, the question in his eyes was desperate. He was desperate to fix anything he had done. It sent you into a tizzy of slight guilt and the urge to assure him he was nothing but perfect in your eyes. Your cheeks warmed at the sudden thought.

"No," you said with a sigh, your arms dropping to your sides. "I appreciate your concern, Neteyam. I think I'll see if Zet'ka will let me in. I don't want to burden your sisters--"

"You're kidding, right?" He was almost laughing at you now. "They love you. Kiri was the one who wanted me to ask, actually."

Your tail wriggled excitedly. "She did?"

He nodded, tilting his head as his braids fell over his shoulder with the movement. Then, his expression wasn't so humorous, thoughts racing behind his eyes. "Is it so hard to believe?"

You turned away from him, starting to continue your walk, pushing a large leaf out of your way. "Maybe."

In seconds he was walking at your side, his eyes on your profile. "Well, believe it. All three of them speak only highly of you."

"And you?" The words were out before you could stop them. Wincing, you made another turn, hopping over a fallen log.

His brief silence made your embarrassment worsen, but it was quickly--very quickly--replaced with a panicked jump of your heart. "A day has not ended till Lo'ak tells me to shut up about you."

Your hand froze in its path of pushing down a loose tree branch. Shaking your head, you surged on through the forest. Neteyam noticed the tension in your whole body; how your tail was alert and your back too properly straight.

Thoughts scrambled around your head up until you stopped at the bank of a river gently cutting across the forest floor. When you sensed Neteyam at your shoulder, you turned your face away from him, saying softly, "I have no one to speak to, but if I did, I'd speak only of you."

Hesitantly, Neteyam's hand found your wrist, gently sliding down to intertwine your fingers. You sucked in a sharp breath, not daring to look at him. The feel of his hand on yours, the way his soft exhale fanned your neck, it was almost too much.

Closing your eyes, you evened out your breathing. "You make me crazy."

"Funny," he whispered. "I think I was crazy till I got to know you."

You grinned despite yourself, recalling that little boy who used to tug on your tail just to make you angry. "You were."

"Look at me." You faltered at the words, not so much a command, but a delicately toned question. "Please."

Without so much as a pause, you'd turned, hand adjusting in his, and met his eyes that burned right into you. How long had it been since you'd befriended him? Three months? Four? It felt like a lifetime. You'd always known him, in your mind, known him as well as you knew yourself.

You knew his favorite hunting spot, the way he liked to string his bow, how he braided his hair. You think you'd memorized each stripe on his body with the way you so often gazed at his toned muscles.

It was terrifying, but Neteyam had fought his way into your heart, no matter how much you tried to force him out.

"You don't have to be so guarded... I See you, Y/N."

His hand moved to cup your face, drawing you out of your thoughts. You flinched away, surprised, suddenly stepping out of his reach. Your arms wrapped around you, shivering though the air wasn't cold. You refused to look at him again.

"I'm sorry," he said, stepping further away from you. "I didn't... I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"No, it's..." You sighed, frustrated with words and how they so often escape you. With a hand to your temple, you glance up at him, praying that Eywa will give you the right things to say. "You know what they call me."

Neteyam nodded. "I do." He ducked his head to catch your eyes when you returned them to the ground. "I don't care what they say."

"Neither do I," you snap. A sigh leaves you. "But they're right. I'm... not used to this."

He looks confused as you gesture at the space between you. "Used to what?"

"This! You." Your gaze interlocks with his. Your veins tingled, the forest around you seeming to still as Eywa answered with a supply of just the right words. "How kind you are to me. How much I care for you. How easily you just say things and mean them. I'm jealous."

Your heart was quick and your eyes were like a fire bearing your innermost thoughts in its tendrils. "And I'm scared. You will grow tired of me. A Le'awtulant is not a Tsahik."

In an instant his brows were drawn and his lips curved down into a scowl. "Don't call yourself that."

Ears flat against his head, he steps closer, leaving just enough room between the two of you. "You are Y/N. Not what they say you are. Not what Zet'ka says you are."

Never had you felt so see-through as his fangs bared at the sound of your guardian's name. Was her coldness so obvious, or was it the way you cowered from her, how you clung to her every word?

Either way, you felt a burn in your throat as Neteyam stepped closer still, yet not enough. "You are you, not a cruel label." His hand extended, palm up, his eyes losing the ferocity just enough for you to feel his sincerity.

"You are Y/N, and I See you." He watched you stare at his hand, silently begging you to believe what he was saying "You won't ever have to wander again, if you'll have me."

Swift, your hand slipped into his, and your body collided with his. You left his hand and wrapped your arms around his middle before you could lose your nerve. Cringing, you waited.

His touch was featherlight as he embraced you tightly. Your face relaxed as your temple rested on his shoulder and his own leaned against your head. A shiver ran up your spine as his tail wound around your leg, yours in turn brushing along his thigh instinctively.

So softly you feared he might actually hear you, you spoke, "I See you, Neteyam."

He pulled back, his movements slow, and touched his forehead to yours. A barely there smile rose to his face, and soon a matching one appeared on yours. Rain started to trickle down through the trees, sending the two of you into soft laughter.

You hadn't mated that evening. Neither of you were too eager to grow up too much too fast. For now, things were gradual, and just slightly more obvious to all those around.

If someone wanted to find Y/N, they were directed to find Neteyam. If someone was in search of Neteyam, they should find Y/N. You knew the whispers, and so did he. The future Olo'eyktan with a Le'awtulant? The both of you happily ignored everything anyone had to say about the matter.

Jake was shocked. He recalled how his jaw fell slack as he watched the pair of you from across the hunting party's bonfire. His son left a swift kiss on your cheek, and you shied away with a gentle smile, reaching to take his hand as your tails twinned together.

He was happy, just shocked. He always took you for the celibate type, so to speak.

Neytiri wasn't so surprised. She had a keen eye and even sharper ears. The mother saw how his son gazed at you with an air of fondness and longing. She noticed how your eyes always lingered on him a little longer than needed.

She knew it was only a matter of time before tensions and stares came to fruition.

As for Zet'ka, she never addressed it outright. But you could see from her approving glances and subtle nods that she was happy for you, or as happy as such a woman could be.

Time moved on, and each slight touch from your lover didn't elicit an awkward flick of your ears as often. After some time, it was you who reached up to kiss his face, littering featherlight touches to his jaw and brow and eyes--and then his lips.

You would tug on the end of his tail as you walked past him. You only giggled when he whipped around, fangs bared in a hiss, only for his whole face to soften at the sound of your laugh.

Mo'at promptly swept you under her metaphorical wing, saying her grandson's mate would have to know a thing or two about healing. If you were to be Tsahik one day, she told you, you'd have to know the job.

You felt honored each time she said something like that.

Slowly, as each day drew on, you found yourself being brought into the Sully family whether you liked it or not (you liked it more than you would admit).

Every night--the one's that weren't marked by a rainshower--you and Neteyam climbed up through the branches of the trees, up to the hammock you used to call home, but now called just a place, where you slept in the arms of your beloved.

The people who called you the name you didn't care to remind yourself of fell few and far between, till no one could remember the Le'awtulant of Omaticaya, and only knew Y/N, most likely to be Neteyam's Tsahik.

[cyandreamzaceattorney]

✦ AA girls getting boba tea ✦

A few days ago I felt like drawing Ema, Kay, Maya and Franziska hanging out and drinking boba tea, cuz I really like the idea of these four having a friendship group :-D however, I unfortunately couldn't fit all four characters in so I (mostly) cut Franziska from the pic. Sorry Fran fans! I do love her but, I wanted to draw the other three girls a bit more (cuz that's just the mood I was in) and didn't want to stray away from this specific concept as I felt really inspired to draw them walking while chatting with boba tea.

Overall I do like how this picture came out, even if I definitely rushed it a bit (I think this was mostly because I got hyped over getting time to draw again, cuz I've been busy on and off). Unfortunately I lost my favourite brush liner before doing lineart on this and halfway threw my other liner magically dried up! So that was frustrating but, I worked around it and want to regain confidence in using fine liners so kind of a useful problem lol. I also decided to change up how I draw Kay in my art style a little and I think I like it :3 And, really like the outfits I gave the girls. Even if they are simple. They're also summer outfits because Australia is once again breaking the record for hottest summer (and it's still technically spring (⁠´⁠-⁠﹏⁠-⁠`⁠；⁠)). Fun fact, Ema is wearing a striped shirt as a reference to the stripe motifs in her aai design!

Now time for boba tea hc's cuz why not XD. Maya has a Taro milk tea with the regular black pearls, because it's purple and in my mind Taro and chocolate being her favourite flavours just makes sense. Kay has a iced tea with lychee jelly (mainly cuz I didn't feel like colouring the jelly but I see Kay liking lychee), idk what flavour her tea is, but it's probably a fruit flavour cuz in my experience ice teas are often fruit flavours. I also have the random hc that whenever Kay gets boba around Miles she gets a weird combo (e.g. chocolate milk tea with green apple pearls) just to see his upset reaction lol.

Ema and Franziska also have boba, you just can see it cuz Ema has them in a shopping bag which Kay is in front of. As for flavours, Ema's is definitely chocolate milk tea cuz her snacks in the English version of the games seem to be similar to tee vee snacks (idk if tee vee snacks are a thing in us, if they aren't they are small long cookies cotted in chocolate, kinda like pocky but much shorter, but thicker and fully coated) though I can also see her getting brown sugar with black pearls. Franziska I could see getting something like the regular tea flavour (which is called "Thai tea" or "original flavour" depending on the boba shop I go to) with no pearls or jelly because in my mind she doesn't like them :P, in general I don't think she'd like a lot of sweet flavours but that's because I hc her as not liking sweet food for no logical reason, my brain has simply decided this ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

Hope you all enjoy this drawing and my super austic ramble about what boba tea I think these fictional characters drink XD

Next traditional drawing will be in a new sketcbook as I'm almost finished this one (and the last pages won't be as fanart so I won't post them here). I'm shocked cuz I haven't finished a sketchbook in less than a year for several years now! But this makes sense because I drew a lot this year for several reasons :-P

[oddballwriter]

Appetite

Summary: You have a very high and demanding libido and the boys both are willing to and victim of needing to satisfy it.

Warnings: The reader's gender, exact anatomy, and pronouns are never mentioned but they are a power bottom and or are the ones getting penetrated but are very much in control of the situation. Sub!moon boys and dom!reader if you squint. Groping. Ass slapping (Marc's ass). Overstimulation. Riding. Implied creampies/ not pulling out (wrap it before you tap and or get it). Reader giving oral. Edging.  

Author’s Snip: I'm on my freak shit tonight. Never let me listen to S.H.O. by Baby Tate and Sexy Naughty Bitchy by Tata Young while ovulating or else fictional grown men are getting fucked. Submissive bitches, this one is unfortunately not for you.

Notes: I wrote Jake's part three different times and had to write it after getting off my flow so if it sucks (lol) I'm sorry. 

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 1,328

The boys love you and everything about you. But one thing that they weren't expecting to come along with you, was your libido. Not that there was anything wrong with you having a huge one. After all, no one who partakes in sex ever complains about it. The problem was what that entails for them and maintaining it.

-

"Baby, please," Marc says under his breath while he feels you hold him from behind and kiss his neck as he washes the dishes from the two of you having finished dinner. Marc wasn't dumb, he knew you were eyeing him up after you came back from work and he had dinner ready for you, and he knows that you know that holding and kissing him like this riles him up.

"What? I'm not doing anything right now," you say as you give the gap between his neck and collarbone another sensual kiss. "Maybe after you're done washing the dishes we can do something if you want." you suggest, teasingly wording it like he's the one who had the dirty idea.

"I would be getting it done faster if you weren't feeling up my waist like that." Marc claps back, making it clear that he can see and feel your hands moving around. "I could be making it worse." you tease as your hands lower a bit and nip at his skin.

Marc stills for a second, trying to keep back a labored breath that would give away that your little touches are getting to him. Well, it's not that good because he knows that if your hands got any lower then you'd feel his hard-on against the fabric of his pants. "Why don't you just take care of it yourself?" Marc suggests, "We were at it last night. Wasn't that good?" Marc mentions.

"But what if I want a second round of last night?" you question as you squeeze him a little tighter. Marc feels cornered, but in a sexy way that really shouldn't be getting him this much. He felt like a fly that was watching itself be rolled up into the spider's silk, or even a mouse getting coiled by a snake. He knew that he had nowhere to run but also didn't hate it either.

"You had plenty of rounds last night-" Marc tries to bring up but the tail end of his sentence is drawn out a bit as he feels your hand travel down his stomach towards the belt of his pants and your pinky finger break through the waistband. He feels his blood rush downwards and also upwards, making his cheeks out in a blush over letting himself slip up. He can sense your smile and doesn't say anything when you reply with "You were saying?" in a smug and snarky tone.

"Just let me finish the fucking dishes first. Please." Marc pleads. "Go to the bedroom or something. I'll wash my hands and be there. Just let me do the damn dishes." Marc says to add to his plea so that you'll stop with the teasing.

Marc almost breathes a sigh of relief when you unsnake your arms form around his body, but you leave with a "I'll be waiting." paired with an extra nip and kiss at his neck and slap on his ass.

-

Hearing the boys moan and overall vocalize their pleasure during sex was something that you loved to hear. But Steven was one of your favorites.

His whines and moans as he came blocked out the sound of the documentary film that you were watching on TV. It was a rerun of something that both you and Steven have watched a few times. So in your mind, you didn't need to hear what they were saying.

Steven let out shakey breaths as he recovered from his high, his third one, to be exact, with you doing the same. He made an attempt to pull away and pull out of you but your grip on his shoulder stopped him from going completely out, making Steven whine.

"Again." you demand as you even out your breath. "But we've already gone three times, love." Steven begs. "Come on. One more time, to make it even." you insist. You sit up just a little from your position on the couch so that you can place your mouth next to his ear and kiss it, knowing full well that that's his own weak spot, and using your free hand to teasingly stroke his stiff cock that's outside of you so that it stays hard.

Steven moans at the touch and feeling on his ear. He knows that you're telling him a lie and that you'll make him keep going till he's nearly passed out, but most of his blood is somewhere else rather than in his brain to help him think clearly. And even then the thoughts that he's having with his other think of head is winning the popular vote.

He's too busy trying to think through his clouded mind that you try to help him out in making the decision for him by pulling him closer to you, making him slowly go back inside of you. Steven shutters and lets out even more small quiet moans as he feels your walls glide along him again. His poor thing is aching from use but he can't seem to get himself to stop wanting to keep going.

Steven makes an attempt to go round four but he can't seem to do it,. So you, again, take the initiative and push him back so that he's now the one lying on the couch and then startle him. Steven gives you a look that shows that he knows you really aren't going to let up any time soon.

-

"Shit~" Jake moans out as you give him head in the backseat of his car.

In the small space, Jake and you can only hear the sound of you bobbing your head and the battered breaths and moans coming from Jake, which is a thing that weirdly gets Jake off more when you two get down in the car.

"Slow down, god." Jake pleads, feeling himself start to come the longer he lets you go on. You look up at him and pop your mouth off but keep him going with your hand stroking him at the same pace. "What's the matter? I thought we were in a spot where no one would see us?" you mention while you glance up at him from your place on the floor of the car.

"We are," Jake repeats as he focuses on not coming just yet, "But if you keep doing it like that I'm gonna...~" he can't finish his own sentence and even think about the last word, or else he will actually lose it. He looked and felt like he was trying to hold in a sneeze.

"I thought you liked it when I made you come fast." you question as you lick the precum from his tip that was leaking out. Jake shivers from the feeling but recollects himself. "I do." he confirms, "You just used me up too much last night and I don't think I've made it back yet." he explains.

"Well then I guess I'll just make you come once." you say before you go back to sucking him off, but this time with a pace that doesn't send him over the edge just yet.

After a while, he starts reaching it again and is more willing to have it happen. Jake starts talking under his breath saying "That's it. Just like that.". Just as he starts reaching his limit and about to get to a point where he can let it all out, you pop your mouth off his cock again. He looks down at you in shock that you suddenly stopped.

"Well, I don't want you to come yet." you smile as you watch Jake lose it and start up again.

[justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms]

Hi!!! This is my first time ever requesting but I had to try it!! What would Mirko, Dabi, Hawks, Toga, Endeavor, and possibly All Might react to having a fem s/o that has a quirk that immediately calms the person they touch so many heroes and villains tend to try to take her for their own needs because they’re obsessed with finally being able to feel some sense of peace alwkjeebw I hope that this is ok if it’s too many characters I totally understand!!! Hope you’re having a great day!!

Hello Anon! Thank you so much for sending in your request and choosing me as the first person you sent a request to! Sorry it took a while to finish! I've been swamped by matchup requests lately (something I'm certainly not complaining about). I hope you like your headcanons!

I don't see Mirko as someone who seeks the feeling of peace a whole lot. Even though she has her unsatiable desire to fight, she's happy with herself.

Still, she appreciates the sense of peace her s/o's powers bring whenever she's around them.

She doesn't really know if her s/o's powers cause them to feel emotional pain themselves. She's asked a few times but her s/o's assurances that it's fine do little to ease her concerns.

Mirko is definitely one to do little things to make sure her s/o gets moments of peace as well. It can be stressful having heroes and villains constantly seeking you out just to get a taste of peace.

As long as her s/o says it's okay, Mirko won't have a problem with people approaching them asking for a hit of peace. If too many people approach her s/o or her s/o seems uncomfortable thought, it's a different issue.

Her main priority is always going to be the wellbeing of her s/o.

And if a villain kidnaps her s/o? Mirko's on a one woman mission to get them back.

Definitely craves peace. After everything he's been through, he needs some time to just relax.

Obviously this could go down a yandere path, but I'd rather go with the scenario where Dabi's s/o chose to be with him.

He feels so honoured that them chose him of all people to be with. Yes, the powers are a nice side effect, but Dabi's convinced his s/o's presence alone, powers or not, brings him a sense of comfort unlike any other.

Definitely protective of his s/o. It's not that he doesn't want others to feel peace. He couldn't care less about that! He's just worried that his s/o is going to leave him.

Doesn't matter if it's a hero or another villain that tries to take his s/o away from him, he's fighting for their freedom like his life depends on it.

He loves coming back to his s/o after a long day. Getting to spend time with the person he loves, and getting the benefit of their quirk easing all of his aches, pains, and worries is the best part of his day.

This guy is somewhere in between Mirko and Dabi.

Some days, he's completely fine. These are the days when he's more worried about his s/o's mental health than anything else.

Other days, his hero work gets too much and he just needs to destress. That's not to say Hawks doesn't still care about his s/o! He really does. He's just so tired.

Protective of his s/o, but no more than other heroes in committed relationships. If his s/o gets kidnapped, by either a villain or a hero goes rogue, he'll obviously get them back.

But he's not rushing in headfirst like Mirko would. He's been working on undercover cases for too long to do that. He'll infiltrate wherever his s/o's being held and break them out with as few casualties as possible.

Hawks doesn't want his s/o to carry any guilt about people getting hurt because of their powers. It also gives him a chance to isolate the person who kidnapped his s/o later and find out exactly why they did it. They'll be brought to justice. But he's doing it his way.

A side effect of his s/o's powers on Hawks is that when he gets relaxed, his feather fluff up. If he's really relaxed, he might make soft cooing noises. Just don't mention it. He gets embarrassed.

Doesn't necessarily think about the benefits of her s/o's quirk at first, but the first time she gets a hit of peace, she knows she needs more.

Gets addicted quickly to the feeling of peace. Izuku Midoriya? Who's he? The only person she has eyes for is her new s/o!

Another one who could really easily go down the yandere path.

Assuming her s/o chose to be with her though? She's the happies person in the world! Sometimes when she's under the power of her s/o's quirk and her racing mind is slowed, she wonders why her s/o chose her.

Her s/o's quirk dulls the urge to draw blood, maim, and kill, so Toga can't tell whether she completely likes it or not. She's gotten so used to the urges that without them, she almost doesn't feel like herself.

But her s/o is happy that they can do something to help her relax and Toga loves the floating feeling her s/o's quirk gives her so she's happy to keep hanging around them.

Has this man ever felt peace in his life? Probably not.

So when he first gets a hit of his s/o's quirk? Endeavour probably crumples to the ground. He's not entirely sure why his legs have just stopped working or why his shoulders feel so miraculously relaxed but he does know it's a feeling he could get used to.

I feel like some small part of Endeavour (especially in the more recent part of My Hero Academia) feels like he shouldn't be allowed to relax.

It's more than he deserves after everything he's put his family through.

So he probably wouldn't use his s/o's powers that much. Then again, he can't exactly stop them from using them if and when they chose.

If his s/o got kidnapped, he's assembling a team to take them down. Yes, he's one of the highest ranking heroes in Japan. Yes, he could take out the hero or villain who kidnapped his s/o by himself.

But he lives in the public eye. If everyone found out how much he cares about his s/o, more people would be coming after them.

He doesn't want to put his s/o in any more danger than they need to be.

Has forgotten what peace feels like honestly. He's been keeping up his persona of All Might for so long that he doesn't remember what it's like to just relax.

So incredibly grateful to his s/o! Anything they want, he's on it. Back rubs? Those muscles can be put to use for something other than fighting villains! A snack from their favourite café? He's pretty fast, he'll be back before his s/o knows it!

He feels it's the least he can do.

Unlike Endeavour, All Might has no worries about rushing in to protect or rescue his s/o. He knows that most of Japan probably knows about his relationship so there's no point in trying to hide how much he cares.

Might sneak into wherever his s/o's hiding in his weak form before breaking them out as "All Might".

He does have to be careful though. His s/o's powers revert him back to his weak form in an instant so they have to be very careful about when and where they use them.

[yousaydisco]

Finished rated E Harry/Kim ficlet that I don't want to post to my ao3. 4.2k words, first time, Harry and Kim meet up a week after Martinaise and their relationship turns from platonic to decidedly not.

It is late evening, a time when children are put to bed and delinquents are looking at themselves in cracked mirrors getting ready for a night of raising Hell and feeling at peace with themselves, when Kim's phone rings. He gets up from his well-loved armchair (the one that has cracks in the faux leather that are irreparable) to pad across to it but doesn't rush himself. It is partially on its second ring when he answers with "This is Lieutenant Kitsuragi."

When the voice on the other end answers with a resounding "Kim!" a small part of his gut regrets that it took him so long to answer. Harry sounded like a lot of things: exhausted, no doubt still recovering from Martinaise, elated to him from Kim again, but mostly he sounded overwhelmingly relieved. Like maybe he hadn't remembered Kim's phone number correctly and wasn't sure if he was going to get the right person. 

Or more like he thought Kim wouldn't answer the phone at all. He could still hang up, having heard Harry's voice and wanting to come clean of him completely. Write off their entire meeting as something to forget, but that's something that Kim would only do in his nightmares. If given the opportunity he would like to keep a hold on the strange man he met in Martinaise.

He had carved out a life for himself that purposefully leaves little room for anything besides the RCM. It allows him to more easily find comfort in routine: work, home, sleep, back to work. He's never been good at people - people who can be unpredictable or needy or any number of things that would disrupt his routine. So he doesn't have people in his life. Any loneliness that lingers is just the price to pay for the most powerful feeling of comfort he can afford himself. Except. . .    

"Hello, Harry." he doesn't use 'detective' because that would be too formal over the phone. But for some reason using 'Harry' also feels like the wrong decision. Well, no, it's not actually about using his name, it's about how Kim was so beside himself at hearing the gravelly voice again that he let himself smile wide. A full-tooth smile that is far too intimate. Too revealing. Just as quickly as it appeared on his face he bites it back down again. 

It has been one week since he has heard from Harry and it feels like a hell of a lot longer than that. But also shorter, which makes no sense at all but still feels very true. Before he was sent on the case, and briefly before Harry called him, he was reading a novel called Time-Sickness, which takes place in a world where the privileged class of people have the ability to time-travel as they please but they quickly figure out that doing it too much causes the traveler to get horribly, horribly sick. Not fatal, if they take breaks, but inconvenient. It wasn't long before they got the idea to pay other people to time-travel for them while they wore specifically made glasses that allowed the rich to view the adventures through the eyes of 'the hired help' as they were called, and since they were hired for a job it is usually taken on by people who can't afford to take breaks between traveling. The descriptions of the time-sickness reminds him a lot of how his past week has felt without Harry. An impossibly long-short stretch where all he can do is try to go on a normal life until time eventually starts working again.

His wandering thoughts are easier to suppress than his smile was and together they huddle in the back corner of his mind.  

Too late. Harry, in the supra-natural way he just knows things, has caught it. "Did I interrupt your reading? I'm sorry - I can call you back." 

He placed the book closed on the table with his phone. "No, that's alright. I wasn't very invested in it. How have you been, Harry?"

A shaky breath makes its way through the receiver. Kim unconsciously pressed the phone even closer, as if he could hear what made Harry so unsteady. "It's been a lot. Bed rest. You know how it is." 

On one hand, as a workaholic, he does know how it is. To be left idle when you know there's a mountain of work to do, that other people are doing and no doubt cursing your existence out for leaving it to them, is its own form of torture. But on the other hand as someone who isn't recovering from both a bullet wound but also severe memory loss, who is possibly trying to stay sober after years of succumbing to various addictions, and who is facing the very real possibility that after bed rest is complete he may not actually have a job to go back to, he doesn't really know how it is.

"I've missed you." The pure sincerity of the statement made Kim's defenses raise as much as it warmed him.

"It's only been a week." He tries to put in a teasing note to the words to hide the fact that his default would sound too fond.

"We did great work together. Really, really good stuff."   

Harry had invited him to transfer to the 41st before they separated and Kim had said something positive, though rather vague. He had filled out the transfer form at the start of the next day but didn't turn it in quite yet. That night he had attempted to call Harry himself. It eventually rang out. He did not leave a message. He did not try again. 

A part of him, something that has lingered ever since he was a teenager with no friends, had anxiously told him to rip up the form. That he has yet again misread a relationship into it being more than it is, that any sense of intensity is actually one-sided, and that he has overstepped a boundary. That the offer was, in all actuality, given out of politeness instead of sincerity and Kim was not supposed to take it literally. 

He couldn't rip it up. It's still sitting on his kitchen table.

But Harry is on the phone with him now. He is real again, not just a figment of his memory fading faster than he wants it to. In the back of his mind there is still a twinge of fear that he had made up the mad, drunken man from Precinct 41. That in his loneliness and grief he had conjured a man so hurt, so lost, so desperate that of course he would think Kim is cool. A man with no memory of anyone else in the world, so there's no excuse but to latch onto Kim in the way that he had. Even in his harshest moments of self-critique, he wouldn't think that he was capable of something so pathetic, but that missed phone call really got to him.  

"I can't believe you're real." Harry almost whispers. Did he catch that thought of Kim's too? Or is it all his own? He can't ask. He will just have to die not knowing. 

They talk for hours that night. And then again two nights later. About a lot of things. There is not a lot that Harry can share about his past but that is okay, he is content with sharing the bits of pieces he is learning on his own. But mostly he wants to know about Kim. Which is terrifying. The idea that there is someone that wants to know him deeply, know every crevice there is, and that he no longer has a real barrier against that. He doesn't tell Harry everything but he tells him far more than he would have told anyone else pre-Martinaise. 

"Please, Kim can I - can I see you?" Harry asked a week into their nightly phone calls. His voice sounds desperate like he is a man dying in the desert who doesn't believe he deserves a single drop of water and yet is still asking for a drink. And Kim is the one holding the pitcher. 

His fingers twitch to reach for his car keys. It is almost one in the morning. "Khm." He hums in consideration, practically feeling Harry sweat through the phone. As if Kim would say no. "I am free Sunday."

It's Wednesday. 

They still talk on the phone every night until then and when Sunday comes Kim almost cancels. Not because he wants to but because there is a layer of something magical, something supra-natural almost that has fallen over the two of them and meeting would break that. Almost like he got his one chance to hang out with Harry in person and he shouldn't ask for more. Almost like if sees Harry again, or continues to let him know things about his life, then he will eventually realize just how mundane he really is.

But he doesn't cancel. They meet up again. 

They meet up for lunch at a place that Harry had said was amazing. Swore up and down that they served the best food. Kim knew to keep his expectations safely low when he noticed the health rating posted in the front being. . . acceptably high. Just barely.

Kim was early. Almost thirty minutes before their agreed-upon meeting time. He's aggressively punctual in every aspect of his life but usually not so early. He's just. . . happy to have someplace new to try, he would say. Surprisingly, Harry is also early, arriving maybe ten minutes later walking on a cane. Still recovering from the gunshot wound. Kim stood up from the booth as soon as he saw Harry enter the restaurant and smiled, his smile growing wider when Harry brightened up like the morning sun at the sight of Kim. 

He had walked to Harry with his hand out, intending for a handshake (safe but still sincere) but Harry didn't hesitate before grabbing him by the forearm and pulling him into a deep hug, one hand still on his cane. Kim wrapped his arms around Harry's middle and returned the deep embrace. Thankfully Harry had taken a shower since they last met, and was wearing freshly washed clothing, and so he actually smelled. . . very good. Husky, almost spiced. Kim did not take a deep breath but he did mentally jot down the notes with the intention of writing it in his notebook. For later. 

It was briefly stilted after they sat down together. Both looking at each other in a way that you would think that they had been separated for years rather than two weeks (more like a week and a half, but who's counting?). But Harry was the one to break the tension. 

"I think we were meant to meet." His eyes shine with intense sincerity and vulnerability. He looked like he could cry. Kim's gloved hands twitched but he tried to look open and comfortable. "I wouldn't have been able to pull myself out of the hole without you. I wouldn't have. I'd be dead." 

"I doubt that." Kim pulls his hands together to hold them steady and looks Harry in the eyes. "You've always had it in you to be better. You just finally wanted to." 

Conversation flowed much easier after that. They stayed in that restaurant, in that booth, far beyond lunch. When they eventually left, after the manager had started walking by and silently gesturing to the clock, Harry looked at him in the far-off way that he does when he's thinking. Kim patiently waits, trying to not obviously check him out. 

Harry had been able to remain sober even without a case distracting him. His eyes were no longer glassy and his breath no longer reeked. He hasn't gotten a trim yet so his hair is still a bit unruly but it's clear he has run a comb through it. His face is pale, unhealthily so, but no longer flushed a permanent, angry red. The swelling in his nose has all but disappeared but there is a noticeable, but not intense, shake to his hands.

All in all Kim sees a very handsome man on the road to recovery.

"Can you give me a ride home?" Harry asks. "I'm sorry to ask - I took the train here and it's still running I'm just - " he falters off momentarily, embarrassed. "It's a long walk. I'm not used to a cane yet - "

"There's no need to explain." Kim, standing at his default parade's rest, faces him completely. "Of course I'll drive you home." 

He could not deny that there is a certain tension in the air. A spark of electricity that is threatening to burn the both of them inside out. Something that has changed since working on THE HANGED MAN case. Or, more accurately, something that was planted during their time working together and now they are starting to see the fruits of their labor. Kim could not keep from glancing at Harry in the backseat through the cage of the Kineema and it was obvious Harry could tell. Probably even without his can-opening abilities. Every time Kim glanced at him through the rear-view mirror, Harry squirmed and looked out the window, blushing. 

Kim gripped the steering wheel tightly and looked back at the road. Then glanced at Harry again just to see more pink dusting his cheeks.

If he were dropping Harry off and speeding away he might have just pulled up to the curb. Maybe. But that would be rather ungentlemanly, to make someone with a recent and serious injury walk that much more steps to their door. That's the excuse he would use if Harry questioned why he went out of his way to grab a spot in the actual lot meant for overnight visitors only.

"Do you - um." He started the sentence off strong but when Kim looked at him, still through the rear-view mirror, he faltered. "Coffee? Is that something you drink? Probably right, I mean that's the whole thing. With cops. That we drink a lot of coffee." 

"Khm." Kim nodded. "And donuts."

"Right! Coffee and donuts." He smiled, pleased that Kim caught it. "So would you like a cup? Of coffee. I don't have a cup of donuts." 

"You're not asking me for coffee." Because he may not be a can-opener but he is still an investgator. He probably doesn't need to be an investigator to read Harry though, since his nervousness is obvious from a mile away. It's been forever since a man was so eager for Kim's approval, nervous because he might say no or not be as interested. The only reason that he couldn't sit here and bask in the feeling forever is because that would mean never saying yes to Harry, who he wants to just give things to. Anything he wants. The initial hint of denial is made that much sweeter when he knows that they both are going to get what they want in the end. 

"I'm not asking you for coffee." Harry gulps. "Come in with me anyway?"

What was that about denial? 

Kim is a gracious man. He does not kiss Harry until they are both inside, front door closed, and not until he pushes Harry to sit on the couch.

"Kim," he whispers reverently and looks up at him with bright, clear eyes. Clearer than Kim has ever seen on him before. The green in his eyes were turned to a thin sliver with how aroused he was, looking up at Kim. 

Kim pushes Harry's legs far enough apart for him to stand between them and slowly takes his gloves off, smirking at how Harry's eyes trace every tiny movement of his hands. When they're freed he gently cradles Harry's jaw in one of his hands, then finally leans down for a kiss.

Harry's dry lips practically melt against Kim's and he makes a whining noise, faintly like a dog begging to be let back in the house, except it's ecstatic and hot and leaves a spark at the base of Kim's spine. Harry snakes up his arms underneath Kim's jacket, his shirt, so that he's making contact with his bare skin already. Kim pushes Harry until he's lying back on the couch and he lays on top of him, careful to not put weight on Harry's bad leg, never breaking contact with his mouth during the entire transition. He takes off his jacket and lays it so it's hanging on the nightstand next to the couch, more careless than he usually is with his things but he doesn't particularly care to fold it or leave Harry to hang it on the hook.  

He's so solid underneath Kim's hands. So real. Everything he needs to touch to dissuade all fears that the week in Martinaise didn't happen, that they never actually met, and that Harry is a figment of his lonely and horny imagination. He needs more.

"Kiiiiiiim." Harry whines when they separate and Kim knows that he cannot keep how much the sound of Harry whining his name is affecting him off of his face. Judging by the fact that Harry's face gets even more red, it is well-received.   

"You have to be patient, detective" Kim moves to start mouthing at Harry's neck and shoulder as his hands start making quick work of unbuttoning his shirt. Harry is so tantalizing warm that it's like he has a red-hot molten core and Kim is approaching it with disregard for either of their safety. "Can you be patient for me?" 

Harry nodded so fast that Kim was vaguely worried that he was about to give himself whiplash, but the nodding stopped when Kim started mouthing at his collarbone. He could feel the form beneath him shaking with a barely concealed effort to keep still as more and more whimpers fell out of Harry's mouth as Kim explored more of his chest. 

Something that he didn't get the chance to fully and truly appreciate in their brief time together was just how - khm - hairy he was. Kim resisted the urge to stuff his face right in the middle of his chest and breathe deeply and instead, he raked his nails down the entire expanse of the area, not too rough but not gently either. His nails tinged the areas of exposed skin slightly pink and caused the affected areas to swell in animalistic lines underneath his hands.  

The noises that Harry makes sound like a symphony. 

Harry still having his shirt on as much as he did was starting to become very irritating to him. Kim did not roughly rip it open, he has more care for other people's things than that, but he did make unbuttoning it his top priority until Harry's chest was fully exposed. Kim leaned back for a moment so he was sitting on Harry's lap, his sinewy frame being comforted by Harry's strong thighs, just to peer down at him, admire him, until eventually Harry squirmed uncomfortably.

"Um," he mutters, then tries to put on a semblance of a confident smirk. "Like what you see?" in a tone that made it obvious he could not believe that Kim was liking what he was seeing.

Kim leaned forward and smashed a hot, bruising kiss onto Harry's mouth. "Yes. I 'like what I see' very much." 

Harry whined softly at his words and those whines turned into loud, shameless moans when Kim went back over the red lines still visible on Harry's chest with more, dragging his nails tantalizingly slow over his chest. Sometimes, briefly, overlapping the raised marks but mostly making new ones. Bringing the blood to the area without threatening to break the skin, making his skin hot and sensitive to all stimulation.

But it's more than that if he's being honest with himself. It's the fact that Harry is now covered in evidence that Kim was here. That the marks and Harry's reaction to them are Kim's doing. That they haven't even taken their pants off and Harry is marked by Kim, not belonging to him but it'd be clear for the days if not weeks to come that he was here to anyone else who got to see. 

"Kim, fuck - Kim." Harry gasped. "Please, f-fuck me. Or let me suck you off. Touch me. Do something. Please. I'm about to die." 

"We can't have that." Kim smirked and Harry flushed even redder, which shouldn't have been possible.

Kim vaguely recalled Harry talking about heart problems back in Martinaise and thought that he should show some mercy, in case Harry wasn't lying and he could actually have a medical emergency from all the teasing. 

So he quickly unbuttoned Harry's pants while Harry unbuttoned his own and in no time at all they were exposed from the waist down. Harry's cock, like the rest of him, was large. Though less in length and more in girth, with the tip being vibrant pink and already leaking profusely. Kim thought it looked rather nice nestled next to his own, cradled in his hand, as he jerked them both off.

Harry was made speechless by this, only letting out moans and whines and breaths so aroused that they could almost be described as anguished. He was trying to lean up, supporting himself with his strong arms, so he could look at Kim's ministrations. Grey-green eyes locked on every movement, actively trying to fight against the urge to lean back and fall into the pure pleasure of it all. 

He let Harry do that for a few moments, still feeling merciful, before he used his free hand to grab Harry by the chin and gently direct him to look up at his face. Then, while not breaking in rhythm where he was still jerking them off, removed his hand from Harry's chin and swiped a healthy amount of pre-cum off of their tips, and shoved two fingers in Harry's open mouth.

Harry let half a moan slip before it was cut off by him suckling Kim's fingers, tongue curling around them enthusiastically. Kim maneuvered them so that he was gently fucking Harry's mouth and then eventually, testing it since he had no idea of Harry's experience but guessing by how repressed his Whole Thing is that it isn't a lot, barely teasing his throat. Mostly a promise for the future. If he's good. And he is - he takes it like it's the only thing keeping him grounded to reality at this moment, like this was something he had secretly had a thought project about and was finally fulfilling something.

Kim could feel the tell-tale heat build up in his stomach and he sped up, removing the other hand from Harry's mouth he returned to the scratch marks on his chest, latching onto one that appeared the most red and tender and pressed on it. "Cum for me."

Harry finally slumped back, unable to hold himself up anymore, and with a mantra of just Kim repeated as many times as he can fit into one breath he cums, most of it spurting onto his own chest but a surprisingly large amount puddling onto Kim's hand. It wasn't too long until Kim was following after him, deliberately aiming to make an even bigger mess on Harry's chest.

They sat there for a few moments, breathing heavily, before Kim stood up on shaky legs. He situated himself back into his pants before walking down the hall and hoping to find - ah, yes. The bathroom. He grabbed a clean towel and returned to Harry, still in the same position on the couch in the living room with a completely dazed look in his eye. He seemed to barely notice Kim cleaning him up, except for a fond smile breaking out across his face.

'Khm." Kim cleared his throat, suddenly embarrassed. "Apologies for - " he wasn't sure how to word it so he only gestured to the several red and angry scratch marks still present on Harry's chest. He had, admittedly, lost control in the heat of the moment. 

"Noooo, don't apologize." He finally looked at Kim, slowly coming back to himself. "That was the sexiest thing that has ever happened to me. You should, um. Do it again. Later! If you don't have the energy for round two. And only if you also liked it. That would be very disco."

Kim smirked down at Harry, who was looking up at him with eager eyes. "Do you have the energy for more, Harrier?" 

He shivered. "I don't know. Probably not. But I'd really like to." 

"You're completely insatiable." Kim said before reconnecting their lips again.