#also I think the argument of how could the situation be worse if he stopped Jimmy is stupid cause it’s under the guise that Curly would

[inotakumagf]

the beast at the heart of the world

✶ gojo satoru x gn!reader

word count ✺ 1.7K

summary ✺ you’ve had a shadow following you since you were a kid. one day, it tries to hurt you.

warning ✺ kind of creepy descriptions of a cursed spirit, but it’s not super gory or anything like that. also i never usually enjoy instant love, but reader and gojo are very touch-starved, so it kinda goes from 0 to 100 real fast oops. reblogs & comments r very appreciated <3

You started seeing the creature when you were seven years old.

He’s never spoken to you, but he’s always watching. At least, you think it’s a he. The creature has pale, rubbery skin with pointed ears and a towering figure. The way he stares at you reminds you of how your father does, and the comparison causes panic to burst against your seams. 

The first time you notice him, you’re playing with your dolls in your bedroom. You focus on the story you’re telling with your Barbies, trying to ignore the way your parents scream at each other in the kitchen. You have this suffocating desire to make them stop, even if that means hurting them. You don’t want to—you know you’d never—but you can’t shake the overwhelming anger brewing inside of you. 

When you finally look up, your heart drops at the sight of sharp, glistening teeth peeking out from your closet. The only thing visible in the shadows is the curling grin of a beast, and it feels like a twisted promise to rip you apart. You notice its red, beady eyes next, and you whimper when you realize it’s looking right at you. The creature’s grin widens.

You scream for your mother to save you, hands clamping over your eyes as you sob. At least your parents’ argument stops as your mother comes to see what’s wrong. When you point out the creature to your mother and explain the situation, she throws open your closet door, to your absolute horror. But her smile doesn’t change as she steps to the side and motions to the closet, the monster still staring at you with its full attention. You cry when you realize she can’t see the creature. Its gaze burns into you as she reassures you that there’s nothing to worry about, even as the creature drools over her shoulder. 

You learn two things that day: one, no one else besides you can see this creature. And two, it follows you. Everywhere. 

You don’t know why, but he never, ever takes his eyes off of you. And he never stops smiling. You have to ignore him every second of your life after that, pretending that he doesn’t tower over you and terrify you beyond comprehension. No matter how many years it’s been since you first saw him, your heart and body freeze every time you look over your shoulder and see the imposing figure of your monster. Truly, it could be worse. He’s never touched you before, he’s never put you or anyone else in physical danger. He just stands a short distance behind you, and he stares. But the anticipation is so overwhelming that it may kill you before he does. You often cry yourself to sleep, hoping that he will just go away. Why can’t he go away?

Sometimes, he stands so close that you think he’ll swallow you whole. You know he thinks of it, because his large mouth is wide open as he peers down at you, letting his saliva drip over you. After all these years, it’s still nearly impossible not to sob in fear or flinch away from him, especially when you’re in public. It's so debilitating, and it turns something as simple as ordering coffee at a cafe into a dreadful process. 

Like now, you try to order your drink, stumbling over your words as you do your best to ignore the creature standing beside you. Your voice cracks and you freeze as the monster drops its head onto your shoulder. You can feel its clammy skin against yours, and there’s a slight scratch as brittle hair brushes against you. A sob bubbles in your chest as the creature licks a trail up your face with its long tongue.

“I–can I…?” You can’t finish your sentence, too busy trying not to scrunch your eyes closed at the feeling of his slimy, purple tongue dragging all over you. He’s never touched you before, and you don’t know why he has now. Maybe his insatiable hunger has gotten the best of him. 

You make a strange noise in the back of your throat. The barista in front of you rolls his eyes at the state of you. You can’t really blame him, because you know how you must look.

“Are you gonna order?” He asks impatiently.

You clench your fists and try to at least breathe in and out. “I–”

The bell to the front door jingles as someone pushes the door open quickly. You and the barista turn to the man that has entered the cafe. He has snow white hair and a dark pair of glasses that he pushes up the bridge of his nose. You can see how his chest rises and falls quickly, as if he’d just run a marathon. He swipes his gaze across the room before meeting your eyes. Your eyes widen when he locks his eyes with yours. 

“Are you ordering or not?” The barista’s annoyed voice brings you back to reality.

An apology is on the tip of your tongue, but the man who’d just stepped inside comes over with a grin on his face. 

“Sweetheart! Sorry to make you wait, I couldn’t find my card.” He stands besides you, laying a careful hand on your shoulder. He pouts at the barista. “I didn’t mean to make you guys wait, we’ll order now. What was it that you said you wanted to try, honey?”

You startle when you realize he’s talking to you. You stumble through your order. The mystery man orders after you do, handing the barista his card to pay and making small talk. Your drinks are made fast, and you can’t blame the barista for wanting to be rid of you as soon as possible.

You don’t know what you’re expecting, but it’s not the stranger keeping an arm over your shoulder as you leave. He doesn’t let go after you walk out of the shop, or even when you’ve traveled a block away. Your heart stutters in fear as you try to think of a way to escape his grip. 

But then he whispers into your ear, “Do you want me to handle this thing for you? It’s awfully close, don’t you agree?”

It takes you too long to realize he’s talking about your monster. Your monster that no one should be able to see. “You can see it too? I thought I was crazy.”

He grins. “You still might be, that’s not for me to decide. This special grade curse looks like it’s been brewing for a while. You poor thing, you can’t get rid of it, can you?”

You blink. “What? Special grade what?”

He ignores you, rubbing his hand up and down your shoulder in comfort. “How long has it been bothering you?”

“Since I was seven.”

For the first time, he looks surprised. “That long, huh? Let me take care of it, sweet pea. You won’t have to suffer much longer.”

You feel a rush of wind at your side and the stranger’s warmth disappears. It feels like you blink, and the creature turns to dust. Just like that, almost twenty years’ worth of suffocation is gone. The constant, overwhelming pressure against your skin is gone. The man appears at your side once more. 

It’s such a relief, and it's almost embarrassing how quickly you deflate against this man. He holds you to his side gently, running his hand against your back as you sob into his neck. You should have more shame, but you can’t bring yourself to care at all. 

You mutter your gratitude into his skin, and you can feel him shudder against your lips.

He lets out a shaky breath before grinning at you. “How ‘bout I walk you home? So I can make sure none of these curses bother you anymore, sweetheart.”

You’re flustered, stumbling over your reply before giving him a, “O-okay. Thank you.”

He lets out something between a sigh and a laugh. “Of course, honey.”

You can’t handle it. This man is a stranger, but he’s so…friendly. Thanks to your monster—your curse—you’ve never allowed yourself to be close to anyone in fear that the creature would snap and have its way. And though it’s hard to break away from your habit of fear, this man’s presence calms your fast-paced heart. He makes you feel safe. 

Once you’ve arrived at your apartment, you feel disappointment brew in your chest. “This is my place,” you mumble. “Thank you for helping me. For the first time in my life I feel…light.”

He smiles at you. “Can I give you my number? In case a curse like this ever bothers you again. All you have to do is call and I’ll be there for you.”

You agree easily, because you want to see him again, even if it’s in a less than ideal circumstance. You pass your phone to him, peering over his shoulder as he types his name into your phone. He pauses his typing to smile over at you, and it makes you flustered enough to turn away.

He laughs. “Aw, sorry, sugarplum. Didn’t mean to embarrass you. Could I get a name to match that pretty face of yours?”

You tell him your name, only considering a moment later that you probably shouldn’t give your name out to a stranger so easily. But you feel comfortable around him, and you find yourself trusting—you glance down at the contact name he’d set for himself—Satoru. You trust Satoru.

You turn to go inside your apartment building, but Satoru calls your name and you turn back, a look of concern flickering over your face.

He rubs his hand against the back of his neck. He looks almost…shy? “You can use my number, uh, even if there’s no curse. Do whatever you want with it, actually. I’m always available to talk. If you have questions about all of this, of course.”

The furrow in your brow eases and you smile and thank him again. You wave your phone in the air briefly. “I’m sure I’ll find something useful to do with this.”

And before you head back inside your apartment, you glance behind you almost instinctively. But there’s no more monster to worry about. The only thing behind you is your strange savior. You promise yourself that you’ll take him up on his offer, as many times as he’ll have you.

[dykedvonte]

My post about Anya is making like a little ruckus on Twitter and I think it’s crazy how many people like have a problem with it.

Like you don’t have to agree with how I characterize Anya and her actions but it’s more like, why are you focused on only one aspect of her character? Why are you removing nuance from the situation? I don’t see it as giving Curly the benefit of the doubt when it comes to doing better for Anya, but as exploring his character and hers relationship with a the very little authentic facts we get about them. In truth, there’s a lot more I wish Curly did, even if it wasn’t pragmatic but I realize the issue there.

The first psychological horror game in a while that’s real intricate in its storytelling and makes you need to really need to address the morality of intentions and its already getting torn asunder smh 😔

[findmeinforks]

The Incident - Paul Lahote x Fem!Reader

A little one shot that I just couldn't stop writing. A good angst to fluff (btw my fics will never be all angst, im too soft). Also do not fear, Im working on a Sam fic and part 3 to not letting you go. But you let ME know what you think of this one ❤️ 2K words

"My SISTER, Paul. She's my fucking SISTER!" you yelled, voice hoarse as your throat cracked.

"I could give a SHIT LESS WHAT SHE IS. YOU'RE. NOT. GOING." He screamed, jaw taut as he tried his best to subside the tremors that were threatening to take over his body.

You ignored the teeth he bared, shaking your head and scoffing.

"Aren't you tired of this?! I'm going over there. I HAVE to know she's safe."

"YOU SERIOUSLY THINK I'LL JUST SIT BY AND WATCH MY IMPRINT GO TO A PLACE WHERE I CAN'T PROTECT HER? WHAT ABOUT ME KNOWING THAT YOU'RE SAFE?? HUH?? YOU'RE SICK IF YOU THINK I WOULD BE OKAY WITH THIS!"

"Sick?!? SICK?!? LETS TALK ABOUT HOW 'SICK' IT IS THAT YOU WOULD WANT TO KILL HER AND THE BABY. THATS MY FAMILY PAUL!"

"AND WERE NOT?"

It had been like this for a week straight. Ever since the pack stormed through the door announcing their mission to kill Bella and the unborn child within her.

You felt as though your two families had been pinned against each other. Head spinning at the idea of there being a 'choice' between your sister and imprint.

On one hand you were desperate to make sure she was alright, but also exhausted at the never ending battle with your boyfriend.

Sure you had talked to Bella over the phone, but you didn't buy into the lies like your father had. Even though you knew significantly more than he did, she still attempted to downplay the situation. She had done this numerous times since getting thrown into the vampire world, but she could only keep you in the dark for so long before you unraveled the truth.

You had to see her. Even if it was the last time. By fate, or at the hands of the pack. You had to be there for her, as she would you.

Leaving your imprint though? Was at task challenging at best. On at least four different occasions you fought with Paul for so long that Emily and Sam had to intervene, prying you two apart at the pleads of other pack members.

Emily would console you while you ranted and Sam would make Paul run off his anger in the woods. When you faced him again, it turned into a rerun of the same argument. Nobody in the house had gotten sleep, and the things were progressively getting worse.

Quil came through the door, widening his eyes.

"Just a heads up everyone, a little comedic relief does not go over well. I saw my life flash before Paul's eyes." He huffed before sitting down.

"When is this going to be overrrr?" Embry whined. He shoved his head in his hands on the kitchen table while you and Paul went at it in the front yard.

Emily sighed.

"Unfortunately sooner than you think....Y/N packed her suitcase this morning." She said quietly.

"You're not really going to let her go over there are you?!?" Kim stood up, looking at both Emily and Sam.

"If you would like to stop her, please, be my guest." Sam motioned his hand to outside, where you and Paul could be seen through the window. You were throwing your arms up and pointing fingers at him, while his voice boomed loudly, towering his large frame over yours.

Kim winced.

You had always been the calm to Paul's raging storm. 'Made him all soft' as the guys would tease. None of them had actually seen you two disagree with each other. In the mind link they saw glimpses of minor arguments, most of the time being reconciled in the sheets..

Paul eventually got an order by Sam to think about something else while on patrol. 'Literally, anything else'.

"She's not going anywhere. I can count on my hand how many times they've been apart since he imprinted. They'll work it out eventually." Jared said as he pulled Kim on his lap, taking a hunk out of his apple.

Kim didn't share a look that she believed him, worriedly looking out to where you stood.

A few moments passed when her body stiffened and she gasped, making Jared look where she was.

"SHIT! SHIT!" He said, throwing Kim off his lap.

Sam turned to look out the window in time to see Paul phase, his sharp claw making contact with your skin. Your blood curdling scream instantly had everyone else off their seats, nearly knocking each other over to race outside.

You laid on the ground as your body wracked with sobs, clutching your side. Blood gushed through your hand as you started to panic, scrambling to stand. The large silver wolf only stood for a few moments before Paul shifted back, completely horrified as he frantically tried to reach you.

He felt his heart nearly rip out of his chest as you backpedaled into Emily, who was helping to hold you upright.

"NO! NO! GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME! IM DONE!" You cried.

Sam stood in the middle of the two of you.

Paul could feel his chest caving in, hand out, speaking more gently than he had at all in the past week.

"B-baby. Please. Please, I'm- I'm so sorry baby. Please let me just see-"

"NO! I'm done. I'm done. I'm leaving. I'm done." You repeated like a mantra, limping to the car.

"Y/N you cannot drive like this..." Emily attempted to say as she stepped in from behind you. She could see your anxiety was heightened, and afraid to set you off further.

"I have to go," you choked, on the verge of tears as you tried to open the drivers side. You had yet to even notice the gash in your side, adrenaline pumping wildly through your body.

Paul made his way around Sam, grabbing your other arm that was holding the door.

"You are crazy if you think I'm letting you leave like this. Please come-"

You yanked your arm from his grasp.

"Don't. Let me go!" You said coldly.

Paul froze. He couldn't move. You never spoke to him like this. Even in the numerous fights you two had this week.

Every single instinct in his body needed to help you. He knew you were downplaying your injuries. He knew he just royally fucked everything up. But the absolute last thing you could do was walk into a house full of vampires dripping in blood. Fucking doctor or not.

"Come inside and let me take a look at you, okay? Please." Emily said to coax you, frantically looking at your wound.

This made Sam follow her gaze, looking down to see the blood pouring from your side hadn't stopped, and you were growing paler by the minute.

"Y/N....you're going to stay here and I'll call Sue." He said in an authoritative voice, leaving no room to argue as he turned to start dialing the number.

You almost argued. You almost fought both of them on the subject. Your stubbornness almost won.

But you felt an immense pain. So strong you don't know how the hell you didn't notice it when you stood up.

That couldn't be good.

"....Y/N?" Paul said, barely above a whisper. Tears were now silently streaming down his face as he held both hands out slightly. Not close enough to touch you but to be prepared in case you fell.

You could feel yourself start to float in and out of consciousness. You tried to ground yourself by focusing on something. You looked at his hands that were outstretched.

Those hands that you held on your first date. The hands that hover your back anywhere you go. The hands that lift you up from the couch on movie nights to bring you to bed. The hands that move in just the right way when making love to you. The hands that were now shaking, not out of anger, but fear. You loved those hands.

"Y/N? Baby?" Paul said louder, more urgently as he could see you fading.

You watched him get blurry as the world started to spin.

"Paul," you murmured, before fading into darkness. The last thing you remember were the hands that caught you before you hit the ground.

"Y/N!!!" Paul screamed as he caught your body falling into him.

Sam ran back, telling him Sue was just up the street. He instructed Paul to carry you inside and onto the bed. The pack dispersed, each trying to find something to help you such as towels, an emergency kit and pillows.

Paul held you close as he lay you down, while repeatedly whispering in your ear.

"I'm so sorry baby. I'm so-so sorry. I cant lose you. Youre everything to me. I'll never yell at you again. I swear on my life. You can do whatever you want. I'll do whatever you want. Please, I love you." Paul pressed kisses to your hairline when Sue and her nurse friend entered.

Jared reluctantly came in behind them to lead Paul out of the room as they worked.

"Come on man, she'll wake up soon I promise."

After he was guided out, Paul slid down to sit on the other side of the door, refusing to move. Jared didn't push it, leaning down to sit next to him.

"Sue's seen this kind of stuff before. Just needs stitching up and stuff," Jared reassured as he put his hand on Paul's shoulder.

"It's not the injuries I'm worried about. So much as what she'll think of me when she wakes up. I....I fucked this one up, Jare."

"If Emily can forgive Sam, I think Y/N will forgive you. She's crazy about your ass."

Paul just nodded, praying he was right.

~

Your eyes fluttered open slowly as you woke. You looked around to see that you had been bandaged up along your left side, an IV attached to your arm sat close by. You attempted to sit up, whining when the pain wouldn't allow it. Within a few minutes Emily entered, her face showing relief.

"You're up! How are you feeling?" She checked the IV before sitting on the edge of the bed, careful of your body.

"Sore...where's, where's Paul?" Your heart ached as you started to replay what happened. There was no doubt in your mind what happened was an accident. You had seen the signs he always warned you about, and chose to ignore them in the heat of the argument. Not only that, but the look on his face when you had refused him was too much to bare.

Emily smiled, not expecting you to want to see him so soon.

"He's just outside the door. Hasn't moved. He didn't know if you'd want to see him..."

"I need to talk to him."

It hadn't even been a few seconds when Paul stood at the door. He looked more out of shape than you did. The disheveled hair and dark circles under his eyes told you he hadn't slept in days.

"I'll give you two some space. Just holler if you need anything," Emily spoke as she stood up, making her way around him and down the stairs.

Paul remained where he stood,

"If you don't want to be with me I understand. I have no words for my actions other than I am so...." he cleared his throat, trying not to cry. "So incredibly sorry I put you through this. I put you in danger when I was trying to keep you out of it. You don't have to stay I-"

"Paul please just kiss me." You interrupted, not wanting to hear the rest as you already made up your mind in forgiving him.

He stood for just a moment longer, trying to comprehend if he heard you correctly. It was when you weakly opened your arms for him that he wasted no time in rushing over to you, cupping your face and gently yet passionately kissed you with everything he had. Tears flowed his cheeks at the relief that you still wanted him. Even after everything he had put you through.

You two pulled back for air after a moment, and you ran your hand through his hair.

"I forgive you, okay? I can't imagine my life without you."

He let out a breath, smiling for the first time in weeks.

"It will never happen again. I swear on my fucking life baby." He caressed your hair, neck, landing his palm on your heart.

You two sat like that for awhile. Almost scared to leave each other's presence. You two talked for hours on the bed. Paul had confessed that the night before, while you were sleeping, the pack had fought with the Cullens. You learned that Paul refused to go, not wanting to leave your side. You were grateful to hear that Sam didn't push on him being there, knowing you were all that mattered to him, and he'd refuse him if he had too. Even if it went against his every instinct as a wolf. Turns out that Jacob had imprinted on your niece, and Bella had survived, now as a vampire.

You weren't particularly thrilled your sister was now a bloodsucker, but as long as she was alive, you were happy.

Paul eventually made his way to the other side of the bed, kissing every exposed inch of you, whispering all the things he loved about you in your ear until you fell asleep.

When your heartbeat slowed down and he was sure you were out, he reached down and felt the velvet box in his pocket. No doubt in his mind about the future you both held.

[amomentsescape]

Hey hey! You are so amazing and I love your work so much 💜💜💜

I need a bit of angst in my life so can I please request Thomas Hewitt x reader where they got into a heated argument and Thomas signs something he regrets. With tears in their eyes, reader storms out of the house and does not return for hours. How would he react? What would he be thinking when he sees the tears running down the cheeks of his partner? What would he think when they don’t come back after hours had passed?

What Should Have Been Said

Thomas Hewitt x Reader

Summary: After becoming worried about Reader's safety, Thomas says some things he doesn't mean.

Warnings: Angst, cussing

Word Count: 1,436

Part II

A/N: Thank you so much! Writing this was definitely pretty sad on my part. I hope you enjoy the angst!

It was just a big misunderstanding. But that's how these arguments normally started, right?

As someone who wasn't able to verbally communicate his thoughts and feelings well, things were inevitably going to become misconstrued at some point. But with the strong Texas heat burning through his skin like fire, everything seemed to be fueling his present frustrations.

He had told you earlier to stay inside while he tended to the outside chores. The sun was going to be unbearable that day, and with all the sharp tools lying around, he didn't want to risk you getting hurt.

So you listened to him for a while, letting him work alone. But after several hours of not seeing him, you became worried.

He hadn't even stopped in for a quick drink of water or an update to let you know he was okay.

You finally decided that sitting around and letting these worries stew wasn't benefitting anyone. So carefully, you got up, grabbed a glass of ice water, and slipped on some shoes, heading out into the blazing sun.

A quick trip around the house told you that he wasn't there which meant that he could only be in one other place: the shed.

You snuck in carefully and were immediately hit with the sound of metal banging against wood.

You were happy to see that he wasn't spending all of his time in the sun, but the shed almost felt worse than the outdoors did. There wasn't enough ventilation in here, making the temperature feel much hotter than you deemed safe.

You rounded the corner quickly, the glass of water in your hand already dripping from the condensation.

However, when you walked past the shelf, you didn't notice the meat hook poking out from the side.

It immediately caught your arm and cut through your skin with ease, causing you to drop the glass of water on instinct and hiss.

The shattering of glass cause Thomas to spin around quickly, a sharp butcher's knife being raised up on reflex in case he saw someone unwelcomed.

And in that moment, he would have much rather seen a lowly stranger in that shed than you hunched over with a small pool of blood beginning to form near your foot.

He immediately dropped the knife and rushed over, grabbing your arm gently but forcefully, looking at how bad the wound was.

"I'm okay, Thom-"

He quickly cut you off by picking you up, taking you straight back to the house.

The next few minutes were filled with an uncomfortable silence, him working hard at cleaning your wound and getting it wrapped up.

It wasn't like Thomas to act like this. His brows were furrowed and his touch was a bit rougher than normal.

In the past, a situation like this would have evoked a tender response from him, his whole being dedicating itself to doting on you and making sure you felt safe.

However, this time the air was filled with a feeling of uncomfortableness. His gaze hadn't even attempted to meet yours since he brought you inside from the shed.

The moment he finished patching you up, he was already heading for the door, not giving you a single ounce of acknowledgement.

This not only disappointed you, but it also ignited a slight irritation in your chest. You were just badly injured, and he didn't even seem to give a shit?

"Thomas," you said a bit more sternly than you intended.

He paused in the doorway, his head slightly tilting towards you in a way to show that he was listening.

You swallowed roughly. "You haven't said a single thing to me the past 30 minutes. What's wrong?"

He turned his head back to the floor, not giving you the reaction you were hoping for. The pain in your arm mixed with the uncomfortable feeling of sweat dripping down your body seemed to only fuel the anger that was beginning to build. Why was he ignoring you?

"Are you mad?" you tried.

The tone of your voice made it sound more accusatory than concerned, but you didn't really care in that moment. You were hurt both physically and emotionally at Thomas's nonchalance, and he deserved to know that.

He finally turned all the way to face you at this, the deep creases in his forehead revealing that something was definitely bothering him, and your questioning only seemed to provoke it more.

But with a quick response, Thomas signed, "I'm fine."

You almost scoffed at this.

"Well, that's good for you. But you haven't showed a single sign of caring towards me since I went to see you. What's going on?"

He just stood there breathing heavily.

That anger began to rise even more.

"Answer me."

He irritably began signing to you again, explaining that you shouldn't have gone outside when he explicitly told you not to.

You felt your face burn at how blunt he was being towards you. This wasn't like him; he never got this angry with you.

"I was worried," you started. You could already feel that familiar burn in your throat. "You were out there for hours, and I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"And I told you to stay inside," he signed.

He was deflecting, and this only seemed to piss you off more. You were there telling him how you were only wanting to look after him, and yet that seemed to make him angry at you? Why? What's so bad about looking out for your partner?

Your eyes were beginning to burn, and you could tell that this anger was beginning to evolve into anguish.

"I just wanted to take care of you!" you almost yelled.

And in an instant, Thomas was already signing back, "I don't need you."

And that's what did it.

The tears spilled over, and your were choking on your own sobs at this response.

One of the first things he ever said to you was that he needed you. Even before the love confession or the asking to be yours, he was telling you that all he would ever need in this life was you.

Seeing him say these words to you broke your heart more than any other rejection could have done.

With blurry eyes and a pained expression, you rushed out the back door, leaving Thomas standing there in confusion and utter shock.

By the time he gathered his bearings and ran after you, he was met with an empty yard, no sight of you within reach.

He crumbled to the ground at the revelation that you were gone. What had he done?

If only he could have expressed to you the truth behind his worries.

He told you to stay inside for your safety. He was angry not because of you, but because you got hurt. This was the most severe injury you had sustained while being with him, and that severity is what caused him to shut down so quickly.

Seeing all that blood and such a deep wound made him realize that anything could happen to you. He could lose you in an instant, and that revelation cause him to lock up.

He could never be angry at you, he was just terrified of losing you.

And he didn't mean what he said. God, he desperately needed you more than anything in his life. But he was willing to say just about anything to keep you safe in that moment. But his worried mind clouded over that fact that he was only pushing you away.

He couldn't get the image of your tear-stained face out of his mind. He had never seen you so broken before, and he certainly would have never wanted to be the reason you felt that way.

He continued to stay kneeled to that spot for minutes and then hours. He refused to move.

You were going to come back, you had to. He couldn't do this without you.

But once the sun began to set, and the moon shone it's light down on him, he felt nothing but despair.

What if something had happened to you? Should he have gone and searched for you despite not knowing which direction you went? Would you ever be able to find your way back to him if you changed your mind?

He fully collapsed to the ground at these worries. The dirt and dust below him turned to spots of mud as the moisture from his own tears collided with the soil.

He signed to whatever Gods had to be out there watching him, "please, come back."

[gremlinmodetweeker]

König of the Icks

I’m sorry y’all, König is an ick magnet. He’s such an awful human being. Not because he’s genuinely vile or awful or morally fucked (okay a bit morally fucked), but simply because he does so many things that give the ick. He’s King of the Icks. He really is. He’s awful. So, with me breaking your bubble, let’s go over a few of the icks that I think are most prevalent. More posts of König icks to come.

König wears socks and sandals. Or socks and crocs. He’s awful. He only does it when he’s wading in the water, meaning he’ll walk around in wet socks for about an hour afterwards until they dry out. It’s so disgusting I cannot stress how awful it is. He tries to tell people that it’s safer and more comfortable, but he looks awful. It’s a fashion nightmare. No human should be wearing socks and sandals while wading in the water. In all fairness, he’s right, it does keep his feet safe, but does he really need the socks???

He wears clothes in the wrong size almost all the time. You tried to get him clothes in the right size, but he rarely wears them. He wears clothes too large because he says it’s ‘comfy’ but he looks like a slob. He’s so disgusting it hurts. He doesn’t even treat his clothes well because they collect spills and stains as he wears them for multiple days in a row. He’s had someone ask if he needs money for a bus ticket before. It was the one time in his life he realized how other people saw him. He’s since started to try to wear nicer clothing when going out. Around the house though? He looks terrible.

This wouldn’t be so much of an issue if he weren’t such a messy eater. He may look like a slob, but normally he’s very clean and neat in his habits. He cleans dishes immediately after using them, he sweeps and mops regularly, he has good personal hygiene and takes care of himself. He’s a generally clean person. That is until he sits down to eat. It’s awful because he takes bites that are too big and then it’ll fall out of his mouth and onto his shirt. He’ll then suck the stain to ‘get it out’ but it just makes things worse. He also uses his shirt as a napkin or towel, depending on the situation. He’ll also make pretty loud sounds when he eats, especially when he’s eating noodles or slurping a smoothie. If you think you’re lucky and these will be rare instances, he has a protein shake every morning and will have a bowl of buttered noodles at least once every other day (usually more).

Along this line, König got in deep shit for not having a white shirt when he was a new recruit. They asked him why he wasn’t wearing a white shirt, and he told them that it was, in fact, the standard issue white shirt. The sergeant pointed at all the other recruits in bleach white shirts, and then back at König’s grey shirt. They got into a huge argument, only for the drill sergeant to pale when he spun König around and read the tag because this grey piece of shit was a white t-shirt all along

König is an excellent cook. Why is this an ick? Because he doesn’t cook. He could, if he tried, but he’s too lazy so he just throws a day-old grilled cheese in the microwave and calls it done. He then has the nerve to complain that he’s hungry when all he’s eaten are old chips and candy bars. The only time he’ll consider cooking is if you ask him to cook or if he’s having company. Otherwise he will eat trash and you cannot stop him. He will, however, once a week or so lay out a full meal. It's beautiful and delicious, but you know he'll be eating leftovers for days, and then go back to a day of only junk food, then he'll finally force himself to cook again.

On the topic of food, König refuses to accept that food can expire. Just straight up. He doesn’t believe in expiry dates. ‘It’s a best by date, not an expiry date’ is his motto and he pays for it. At this point, he has a designated sick bucket because he gives himself food poisoning so often. All the others soldiers can’t believe that he’s fine with the MREs, but you know that when he comes home, he’ll be chowing down on stale bread he found in his fridge with moldy cheese. It’s disgusting and you have to regularly clean his fridge, lest he get sick eating things. He will also fish things out of the trash, so you have to be tactical in how you remove things. It’s a dangerous game.

This is just the tip of the iceberg of my König ick list. I’m telling you all that this man is a gremlin, and we love him for it. Part of the joy of dating König is dealing with his icks and suffering.

[thehusbandoden]

You Flinch During an Argument -Amajiki Tamaki

A/n: so sorry this took so long! I had a good thing going but my power went out and it got erased </3

I do think this one's better though. Technically this is the third legitimate try <33

Edit: I'm trying out a new format for my info.. is it better or worse O.o

General info:

Wc: 1,176 words | angst to fluff/comfort | Character/s: Tamaki Amajiki

Warnings!: loneliness, snapping, flinching, a little bit of crying. Please let me know if I miss any! <3

Dabi | Hawks | Todoroki Shoto | Bakugo Katsuki | Midoriya Izuku | Shigaraki Tomura | Aizawa Shota | Amajiki Tamaki | Kirishima Eijiro | Shinso Hitoshi

The night was cold as you sleepily flipped through your journal, not wanting to write but knowing you should. The entries from the last three months have been short and filled with a dull ache of lonliness. They lacked the usual length and warmth you poured into the pages, ranting on about how sweet your timid Tamaki is and how much you adore him and his ever lasting warmth.

The rambling would go on and on, but now you wrote a paragraph or two about how your life has been 'fine' and that Tamaki has been super busy- if you wrote at all.

There was one or two that held multiple paragraphs of your frustration and not knowing who to blame- knowing that it wasn't Tamaki's fault that there weren't enough heroes to protect the innocent of your large city.

Tamaki was doing his best to protect the defenseless, and you admired that- but the dull ache that sat in the pit of your stomache couldn't go ignored much longer.

Sighing, you closed your journal, standing up from your desk to head to the living room, deciding to talk to Tamaki tonight.

~~

Four hours later Tamaki walked through the front door, tall form drained from exhaustion as he made his way inside, already stripping off his hero gear.

"Tama?" You call, poking your head out from the living room to sadly smile at your Tamaki.

"Oh. Hey y/n." Tamaki yawned, dropping both his cape and mask onto the floor as he dragged his feet towards your room, tossing his belt onto the kitchen table before moving onto taking off his gear further.

"Wait, Tamaki!" You call, stopping at the bottom of the stairs as Tamaki paused, looking back at you.

"Yes bunny?"

"Ummm.. can we talk?" You ask, smiling at the nickname Tamaki gave you the first week into your marriage- though he later admitted that he thought of it when you two were simply friends but was too shy up until that point-.

"Baby, I'm really tired.. is it important?"

"Yes.. it'll only take five to ten mintues."

"Okay baby, where do you want to talk?" Tamaki yawned.

"How about the living room? I can give you a shoulder massage while we talk if you like." You smile, causing Tamaki's eyes to shine as he smiled down at you.

"I'd like that."

~

After you were both situated you started by squirting some lotion on your hands before spreading it onto Tamaki's left shoulder, immediately noticing his many knots.

"Okay bunny, what did you want to talk about?"

"Oh.. so I know that you're working really hard and are really tired.. and I also know that we haven't had us time in a while.. so I was wondering if you could take a day or two off? Not much, just a day or two would be fine."

Tamaki was silent as you bit your lip in anticipation, hoping you didn't upset him somehow.

"Y/n.. are you serious?"

"Y-yes?"

"Do you know how many people might be dying right now? I can't just laze about spending time with you because you're feeling lonely. Why don't you go hang out with some friends?"

"T-that's not the same.."

"How so?"

"I want to spend time with you Tamaki. You know, my husband?" You scoff, starting to get annoyed.

"And I want to spend time saving people y/n, why don't you stop being sensitve and start thinking about other people?"

"But I've been holding my feelings back for months! Please! I'm just asking for a day- even a few hours is fine!"

"Y/n. No. Now if you're done I'd like to get to bed."

Jerking his shoulder away from your touch, Tamaki started standing up.

"But wait Tama-"

"No. I'm disappointed in your selfishness y/n."

"Wai-"

"Stop."

"Pl-"

"I said stop!" Tamaki hissed, turning around to face you within a second.

At the sudden movement and change of tone you flinched back, tears gathering in your eyes as you stared up at Tamaki, eyes wide.

As Tamaki glared down at you he froze as you flinched, heart immediately breaking as he saw the tears in the corners of your eyes.

"Y-y-y/n I-"

"I-it's okay Tamaki.. you don't need to say anything. I get it. I-I'll just go to bed now."

"B-but y-y/n.." Tamaki whimpered, guilt consuming him as he watched you walk away.

"Y-y/n.. I'm sorry.."

~

You quickly got in bed after hurrying up the stairs, wiping at your eyes as you clung to your pillow, staying as far away from Tamaki's side as possible.

~~

You awoke the next morning to the sun shining in your eyes.

Wincing, you turned around to feel for Tamaki, forgetting all about last night and the dreadful few months.

After feeling how cold Tamaki's side of the bed you sighed, memories coming to you in flashes as you stared at his side of the bed.

Wiping away the stray tears, you got out to get ready for a day worse than the one yesterday.

After getting dressed you made your way down stairs, deciding to get on top of your piling to-do list to help get your mind off of Tamaki.

Stepping into the kitchen, you stepped back at the sight of a lavish breakfast filled with all of your favorites spread across the newly cleaned kitchen table.

"T-Tamaki.." you whimper, looking at your beloved with tearful eyes as he guilty studied you with his indigo orbs.

"Y-y/n I-"

You interrupted Tamaki as you rushed into his arms, clutching the back of his shirt, desperate for comfort from the man you've grown to adore.

"Y/n I- I'm so so sorry." Tamaki mumbled, burying his face into your hair to mask the tears falling from his eyes.

"I forgive you Tamaki, I know you were just over worked and didn't mean to take it out on me."

"I promise you- I really didn't me an to, a-and I feel terrible about it."

"Shhh it's okay baby.. I already forgave you. We just need to reflect on what we did wrong tonight and make sure not to do it in the future. Next time, I'll wait until you're less exhausted, and you'll make sure to remind me that you're too tired, mkay?"

"O-okay.."

"Now baby.. why are you home? Don't you have work?"

"Nope, I took the next two weeks and a half off. I know that it won't make up for the months of loneliness, but I'll try to be better, I"ll take less shifts and make sure to only leave for emergencies when I'm off the clock.

"Alright, that's a good start."

"I may need today and possibly tomorrow to sleep.. but I cleaned the entire house -besides our room- and looked at your to- do list and did a few of the bigger things on there.. oh and I made us breakfast.."

"Tamaki. I love you. So, so much."

"I love you too bunny. I'm really rea-"

"Shh, I already said I forgive you. Now, let's eat!"

~~~

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[carolmunson]

always something there to remind me (s.h.)

summary: ten years after the sealing of the upside-down, you and your fiance steve head to a cookout to unwind during memorial day weekend. with steve on edge after a rough half sleep full of night terrors, you hope the day can be salvaged by seeing the party and just relaxing, but a violent thunderstorm changes those plans for the worse. pairings: steve x reader, lumax, edancy. heavy on the steddie brotp tho.

tw: 18+ as always. this story deals with themes of mental illness and ptsd, it is only intended for mature audiences. descriptions of ptsd flashbacks, internal and external (please be advised they are dramatizations). partner violence (unintentional). drinking/smoking. discussions of mental illness. very moody steve but very soft steve. features some tense arguments. smut, like, very loving and passionate smut. this relationship is not perfect, it's also a depiction of a moment in time in 1997. the emotional load was very much a woman's job and i personally think steve would be 'too proud' to be 'too soft' about his stuff. so there are parts that seem kind of 'eh' but -- that's just how things were sorta. gif by @kingofscoops

His pill case sounded like a rattle when you took it from the medicine cabinet, taking it into the kitchen where he was shrugging on his freshly ironed polo. The ironing board and hot iron still set up by the counter. The black stone contrasted nicely against your cherry wood cabinets that he installed two summers ago. That was when you both thought he might be getting better: the night terrors were less and less frequent, the flashbacks far and few between, he was less tense, less irritable. Seeking you constantly for soft touches and kisses, any kind of affection he could pull from you he'd take willingly. Two years ago was your two year anniversary -- when he finally told you the real story. Why he had all those scars, why he can't sleep, why he wakes up in a cold sweat crying. Why you'd never been able to figure out which health care company was providing him with so much medication and therapy when he was working part time at the hospital -- it's because it was the FBI.

It was two years ago where they took you to an underground office where they told you everything. Steve sat next to you, gripping your hand so tightly you thought it might break. They reassured over and over that nothing was coming back, that everything was over, but that Steve and his friends will likely never recover emotionally and mentally from what they endured. Four years into things now, you were both his fiance and his nurse. You checked in monthly with his caseworking team, but in these last few months, they've had nothing but shaky reports. You wondered if maybe his mind just isn't as sharp as it used to be -- you both just entered your thirties, maybe things get knocked loose quicker when you've been to hell and back. "Here, honey," you say softly, putting his pill case on the table. He looks at them and sighs, amber eyes lingering on the 'Saturday' section of the pill box. "Let me get you some wa--" "You don't need to give me my pills every day," he says -- it's soft and sharp, "I know I have to take them. I've been takin' them for ten years."

You offer him a tight smile, "I know, Stevie..." You trail off. 'It's important that he feels in control of the situation, a lot of his role when he was in this situation was to protect others. Try not to baby him about it, he might be fragile, but he doesn't like to feel like he is.'

"It's just...I don't want a repeat of last year," you quietly remind him. He had gotten too sure of himself when he started to feel better -- missing days, stopping altogether, off and on.

He reaches for the pill case and pops open the Saturday square, tossing the main five pills into his palm and then into his mouth. Pain, anti-depressant, anti-anxiety, migraine, blood thinner. The heavy stuff sat in the cabinet above the fridge: Quaaludes, Oxycontin, Sumatriptan, Clozapine -- among others. Every day was a reminder to him that he didn't come out of this a stronger person. His dad let him know that at every visit, treating him like he had a son made of glass. "Don't," he says after he swallows, "Don't start with me."

Your eyes narrow in on the finger he puts up in warning and travels down to his big hand, a vein popping in his forearm and under the band of his watch. His bicep flexes against his polo, you follow it across the expanse of his chest and down the other arm, landing back on the pill case.

You knew last night what kind of day it would be this morning. Desperate reaches for you while he woke up from another nightmare, his damp chest up against yours while he hid his face in your neck. He hugs you so tightly to him so he doesn't float away, and you match his strength as best you can until he falls back asleep. Sometimes it takes hours of stroking his hair and soothing him before he feels safe enough to even close his eyes. In the years you've been together, he's been more and more embarrassed over these needier nights. 'It's just, baby -- I'm a man. I have to get over all this shit.'

"I'm not starting anyth--" "You are," he warns, eyes narrowing. He clenches his jaw, "Don't."

"M'sorry," you breath out. You take the pill case when he sets it back down and bring it back upstairs to the main bathroom. You refill the case before placing it back in the medicine cabinet with a sigh. When it closes you look at yourself in the mirror, no longer the fresh 26 year old he met at the hospital admin desk when he started his part time job as an assistant in the children's psych floor. Gaining hours towards getting his pediatric therapist licensure to help kids who were like him and his friends -- well, sort of. To some extent. You smooth over your button down dress, his favorite one in your closet -- navy blue with beige flowers littering the fabric. It flounces over you in dips and swoops, falling just under your knee. Another sigh and you grab your purse from the bedroom and slip on your sandals, clip clopping down the stairs where you hear him grab the keys. Another Saturday morning where the group gets together and just hangs out, even though Steve sees Eddie, Rob, and Dustin pretty often throughout the week. They've been doing it for years now, but the outside buzzed with the promise of summer, Memorial Day weekend making everyone feel more at ease. Everyone except Steve.

He slams the car door when he gets in the drivers seat, making you jump in the leather of his Lexus. He runs his hands over his jean clad thighs, having grown in size over the last six years with age and trips to the gym. 'I just wanna be in like, peak physical condition if anything tries to come back. I wanna be more ready than when I was a kid, y'know?' And while the muscle was certainly titilating, it made for a very wary you when things went left. "Don't be like that, Stevie," you say softly, your voice calm and gentle like it is with patients on the floor, "I promise I wasn't trying to get on your case. Do you -- I don't know, do you wanna just stay home?" "No," he snaps, looking ahead toward the road as he starts the car, "I didn't pack a cooler full of all the shit you made for this cook-out just the stay home." "Can you relax?" you ask a little harsher than you planned, "Are you even good to drive?" "I'm good. To drive," he says through gritted teeth, pulling down the street. "Are you sure? 'Cause -- Honey you -- you didn't sleep so good last night and I --" He hits the breaks hard, stopping short at a stop light turning to look at you, tilting his head a bit to glare at you down the slope of his straight nose.

"Drop it," he says, the tenseness in his voice sends a chill up your spine. "Stevie I'm not trying t --" "Drop. It." he warns again, "Don't make me raise my voice at you." "Don't talk to me like that," you say sharply while he pulls the car forward when the light turns green. "Then don't talk to me like I'm a fucking child," he snaps back. "Well maybe if you didn't have an attitude with me like one I wouldn't have to," you cross your arms over your seat belt and huff. He shakes his head slowly, tongue tight between his teeth. He thought he knew better than to fall in love with someone who had a tongue as sharp as his. "You're askin' for an argument when you say shit like that to me," he says lowly, the Lexus crunching over helicopter seeds while he navigates through the neighborhood. You see his shoulders rise and fall while he attempts to steady himself -- fuse lit and ready to blow. "I'm sorry," you follow up, a deep breath filling your chest. You uncross your arms to lean your elbow on the edge of the window, resting your cheek in your hand, "I didn't mean that." "You did," he responds, tight and frustrated, quiet. He hastily reaches into his back pocket with one hand, eyes still on the road. Steve pops a cigarette between his full lips and you sigh at the sound of the lighter flicking. “What’s wrong now, hm?” he asks while the cigarette dangles from the corner of his mouth, “What’s your problem?” “Nothing,” you say – it’s something. He takes a drag and blows the smoke out the open window, “It’s just that you bought that pack yesterday and it’s already half way gone. You always chain smoke when you –” “Give me a fucking break,” he snaps, voice raising with each word, “God, can you let me have fuckin’ anything?” “No Steve, I guess not. God forbid I look out for your heal–” you start sarcastically. “Look out for yourself, baby,” he says sharply into the rearview so you can see his glare, “I’m doin’ just fine without you on my back.” You bicker the rest of the way to Ed and Nancy’s house, he only raises his voice one more time. 

Eddie and Nancy's wedding was one for the ages, something about the mixture of straight laced and all over the place that made sense when they tied the knot. The pair, you were told, seemed unlikely until Eddie was in recovery after being removed from the Upside Down. He was down there for six months, tested on for another six. The Party and the older kids would visit him every day, keeping him updated and fed and hydrated. They'd cheer him on when he made advances in his mobility -- but for the most part he just needed rest. Nancy was working a lot, throwing herself into journalism like she always wanted, so she'd come to the hospital late. She wasn't really one for small talk so instead, she'd just read. She'd read aloud while he was asleep, her voice slow and calm -- stoic. Keeping him lulled like still water, she didn't even know if he knew she was there. One night, she picked up where she left off on the first installment of Lord of the Rings, continuing in her soft stoic voice. She watched him lay there with his eyes closed, breath steady, the beeps of the hospital machines in quiet rhythm with him. She at frist felt silly before she started, but maybe in his dreams he could hear her, and maybe just maybe if she does something fun, he won't have nightmares tonight. So she tries it...she puts on a silly voice for Samwise, and she continues with her silly voices. Gruff and manly for Aragorn, gleeful for Sam, some weird form of Scottish for Gimli. She bites her lip, smiling as she tries each one, shaking her curly head at her ridiculousness and stops. Then she hears it...the low rumbling giggle from Eddie in his hospital bed. "Keep going, it's funny..." he said with a grin, eyes still closed. "You can hear me?" she asked, trying to stifle her giggle. "I can hear you every night," he said, eyes peering open slightly, "It's the best." "Do you want me to keep reading?" she asked with a blush. He nods, a soft grin pulling up on his lips while he eyes closes again, "Only if you do the voices."

When you park in the driveway it's clear that the rest of the group arrived before you, their cars already Tetris'd into their places. Steve lugs the cooler out of the back seat with a grunt, hoisting it to rest on his broad shoulder. You roll your eyes at his machismo, like someone is watching him at all times and he has something to prove. You both walk to the back, the sounds of music and conversation and laughter bubbling louder and louder as you get to the gate of the yard.

A symphony of 'Heeeyyy!' and 'There he is!' and 'Finally!' come from the group as he opens the gate and you follow in toe. Eddie comes over quickly to help with the cooler, his hair still as long as it was when he was 20 – the only real updates being his five o’clock shadow and the ring in his nose. A few more weary tired lines by his eyes. His home made Iron Maiden muscle tee had a small sweat mark by the neckline – they must’ve been out here getting ready all morning. “Hey man,” he grins when the cooler gets set down, pulling Steve in for a tight hug. “Hey,” Steve smiles, patting his back hard, savoring the hold. “You alright?” Eddie asks when he lets go, putting a hand to his face, “You feeling okay?” Steve smiles tightly and nods but Eddie only half buys it, returning his look before turning to you. He comes forward, kissing both your cheeks with his full lips, scruff scratching at your skin, “Hi, sweetheart.” “Hi Ed,” you grin, watching everyone else come up to say their hellos. “Where’s Nance?” Steve asks, but his question is answered when she waddles out of the sliding door of the kitchen with a pitcher of lemonade. From the back, you’d have no idea she was seven months pregnant, but from the side – let’s just say, it was gonna be a real big boy. “Honey, what did I say?” Eddie calls out, walking over to her and taking the pitcher. “It’s not even heavy,” she chides back with an exasperated eye roll. You giggle at their bickering, listening to their sweet back and forth with a gentle ache in your chest. You wonder if Steve will be the same way when you’re pregnant. You wonder if the back and forths will sound so sweet, so innocent, so soft. Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the cooler opening, turning to look and grab what you can to put in the fridge inside. Steve takes the meat out to put by the grill and a few appetizers that you put together last nice. You take the icebox cake and chocolate covered strawberries, hurrying with them through the sliding door into the kitchen. “I know, mommy just thinks she can do it all,” Eddie coos, resting his hands on Nancy’s stomach while she slices cheeseburger toppings on the counter, “She just won’t rest, are you gonna be like that too? You gonna run me ragged? You gonna be just like mommy?” Nancy laughs and it’s half airy, half from deep in her belly, “Look, it’s just better if I’m active so that I’m not surprised by it when he’s born.” “I know,” he says, kissing her cheek, “I know. You still love me, Wheeler?” “Love you always,” she grins, blushing when she sees you come in with desserts, “Oh! Oh my goodness, let me help you!” “I got it!” you say, “Just hope there’s room in the fridge!” When everything’s loaded up you give each other a hug, watching as Eddie and Steve have a mildly stern conversation about who is grilling what. ‘It’s my grill.’  ‘And? It’s my meat.’ 

“Do you think they should just kiss?” you ask while you watch them. “Honestly, I feel like they need to at this point," she laughs, "Go on outside, I’ll be out in a few,” Nancy encourages and you make your way back out into the very early summer heat – mugginess starting to soak the air around you. Before you know it, you’re already being pulled over to the picnic table to watch a game of Magic the Gathering between Lucas, Max, Dustin, Mike, and Will. El doesn’t come back to Hawkins very much,so you’ve been told – she’s the only person from the group you haven’t met. “So is this like D&D?” you ask, resting your cheek against your palm while you lean on the table. “Yes and no,” Max explains, looking at her options, “It’s like…” “Like poker but D&D,” Dustin says, making Mike, Will, and Lucas snort. “I think that’s the easiest way to explain it to you,” Mike says. “I trust that,” you laugh with them. You’ve been consistently hopeless with trying to learn the mechanics of Dungeons and Dragons but still enjoy watching, loving it more when Steve decides to join a campaign. He lets loose in ways you’ve never seen when he does, smiling and laughing, free like a child in the summertime. The sun beating on your back suddenly disappears when you hear Steve come up behind you with a hand on your shoulder, “Can I have my glasses, honey?” “They’re in the glove box,” you say, turning around, “Why do you need them?” “Oh, is Erica making you read her thesis outline?” Lucas asks, “Just tell her to buzz off. She already passed it in.” “Sinclair – don’t be an asshole,” Steve gives him a look that can only be described as ‘bitchy’, “She wants some assurance. We need another psychologist in the family, and she’s obviously the only one smart enough to get it done.” “Rude,” Max deadpans, flicking her eyes up at him. “You’re rude, twerp,” he says back, he turns back to you after sucking his teeth, "My glasses?"

“I just said, in the glovebox,” you repeat, a little sharper than you meant to. He lets out a huff through his nose, looking at you like he can’t believe you’d get snippy with him before stomping off toward the gate of the yard. “Is he alright?” Dustin asks quietly, “I saw him on Thursday he just…I don’t know, he seems a little tense.” “He had a bad night,” you explain, toying at a splinter in the wood, “He’ll be okay.” The sun disappears again but not from the expanse of your fiance’s shoulders and chest, but from a thick cloud moving slowly across the sky. The relief from the heat is almost welcomed until you feel the humidity raise a bit in the air – a little too tight, a little too suffocating for your taste. 

The party is in full swing while Meredith Brooks’ ‘Bitch,’ blares from the boom box, Nancy and Max screaming the lyrics with abandon while the boys groan. You smile at how much fun they’re having, the afternoon going smoothly enough that you haven’t had time to notice how cloudy the sky had become. Your eyes linger on Steve, glasses on while looking at Erica’s thesis outline with her on the back porch. He had a pen in one hand and a cigarette in the other, the fifth one in the last hour and a half.  "You got something here," he says to her, tapping his pen while continues reading, "Your argument's really strong -- especially about the rates of homelessness, it's almost always trauma related." "Well -- I am me," she says. He raises his brows and nods in agreement. "Can't spell America without Erica," he teases. You watch him, how gentle he is and how he taps through outline, asking her questions about how she feels about the finished thesis, where she got it bound, if the articles he sent over were helpful. They speak in words you don't understand, but it's okay -- he looks calmer, brows softened while they talk, so encouraging. "I'm a bitch, I'm a lover, I'm a child, I'm a mother, I'm a sinner, I'm a saint, I do not feel ashamed --"

Eddie's rasp pierces the groups singing and conversation as he belts the lyrics next to his wife. Everyone looks up to watch him go, laughing as he does. "We should cover this," he grins, "Me and the guys, we gotta cover this at the next show." "So you can get boo'd off the stage?" Mike laughs. "So I can make sure your ass doesn't get in the bar?" he asks back. Mike scowls while Dustin laughs at him -- it's always smarter to not try it with Eddie, he'd always get you back ten fold. With a jolt, you feel something cold hit your hand, looking down to see a water drop splat against your skin. Then another, and another, and another. After the fourth or fifth, the rain starts to come down -- and then it starts to pour. "Alright!" Nancy calls, "Everyone grab something and head inside." The Party rises, wincing as the rain pellets down on them while everyone grabs a foil tray or covered Pyrex filled with food. You follow suit, hurrying inside with the undressed cheeseburgers and buns, laying them safe on the counter in the kitchen. Everyone else starts to file in, Steve and Eddie turning off the grill while the sky starts to darken significantly. The first rumble of thunder sends everyone's face to a flat line -- you wished Robin wasn't spending the weekend in New York City so that you'd have someone on the front lines with you and Nancy to keep everyone at ease. Nancy and Robin definitely had their moments but had a much tighter grasp on the world around them now.

A few flashes of lightening crack followed by deep rumbles of thunder. Boom, crack! Boom, crack, crack! You notice everyone resettle themselves around the kitchen table -- jittery, quiet. You sit down across from Steve while he looks down, following the woodgrain with his finger. You keep your gaze on his chest, watching for a tell -- he swallows the frustration he feels from having your eyes on him. "It's alright guys, just a storm," Nancy reminds everyone gently while she brings in the last of the food from outside. Eddie gets her seated before opening things back on the counter, the kitchen smelling like barbecue while he opens the foils. The conversations start around you again while you sit across from Steve, the tension sitting like a weighted stone in your chest. Another flash of lightning and that's when you notice it, the twitch of his hand. The thunder rumbles and he reaches up to rub his eyes with his thumb and forefinger under his glasses. Shit. "You okay, honey?" you ask him softly. He swallows, jaw clenching, "Mhm." "Okay," you nod, trying not to bring attention to it just yet, just incase it passes. The thunder booms again and he lets out a breath through his nose, he takes his glasses off and rubs his eyes more agressively. You tap your foot under the table and he can hear it, he can hear everything in the room -- the scrapes of foil on foil. The separate conversations. Eddie's laugh while he talks to Nancy. The clinks of silverware. Ice in cups. The drumming of fingers. Your tap. Tap. Tap. Tapping. Under the fucking table could you just stop tapping your fucking foot -- The next crack of lightening is so intense it shakes the house and everyone gets quiet. 'Just a storm', Nancy reminds, but her voice sounds far away. Thunder rumbles again in the distance and he swears when the lightening flashes through the windows it's red. He rubs his eyes again, a short burst of breath coming through his nose. 'Honey?' he hears you but its like he has cotton in his ears. The thunder rumbles again, the slick squelching of vines starts to creep into the sound of it. Another crack of lighting and the lights in the kitchen flicker. But when they turn back on Steve isn't with the group anymore. He's not even in the kitchen. He's back at the Creel House. 'Baby? Steve?' your voice is distant -- does Vecna have you? Did he find you? Is he taking you away from him? Steve whimpers, getting out of the chair, pulling at the roots of his light brown locks -- desperate to pull himself out of the memory, "Help, please..."

"I'm here, Steve," you say rounding the table while the rest of the group stands back, getting ready to help. Max grabs a boom box and Lucas runs to his car to grab his tapes with everyone's favorite songs on it -- just in case. Dustin approaches him slowly, hands out in front of him while Steve shrinks to the floor, back against the cabinets. "Steve, it's me, it's Dustin," he says calmly and slowly, "You're in Eddie's kitchen, Steve." But Steve only hears Dustin saying his name -- Dustin must be in trouble. "I'm coming," Steve says, eyes shut tight, falling further away. You watch as sweat grows on his hair line and neck, muttering a fuck under you breath. This was gonna be a bad one. "Honey, honey," you continue, kneeling down in front of him to ease his hands off of his hair, "You're okay, you're safe. I'm with you." 'Honey.' He hears your voice in the distance, searching for you in the blue black haze of the Upside Down, the thick particles of dust in his eyes. The slither of vines covers the walls and the floors while he ascends the stairs -- where are Nancy and Robin? Weren't they with him? "Nance?" You watch him call out for Nancy and she goes to get up but Eddie puts his hand delicately on her shoulder. He shakes his head no at her, "Just talk to him," he says to her. 'I'm here, Steve, it's okay!' 'It's okay!' But it's not Nancy's voice, it gets more an more deep, more gravelly, more like him. Steve flinches in front of you, soft 'no, no, no's slipping from his mouth. 'Stevie...' Where are you? Does he have you? 'S̷T̴E̶V̴I̷E̵.'

The sound of Vecna's voice booms in his ears, the thunder rumbling, the red lighting flashing to light up the house. You were never here -- Vecna tricked him. He breathes hard, looking around while the vines snake around, searching for him. "Okay, okay baby," you say hurriedly, watching him while he starts to hyperventilate. You raise your voice to get through to him, "Honey you gotta take some deep breaths for me, okay? Can you hear me?" Max and Lucas come back, smacking the tape into the radio and fastforwarding until Marc Cohn's Walking In Memphis crackles through the speakers. They both heave breaths while the song plays, leaning over the table to settle down from running. "You hear the song, honey?" you ask, "Can you hear it? Talk to me, Steve." You reach your hands up, sliding slowly up his chest to rest your hands by his jaw in a soothing touch. But for Steve in the Creel House, the vines have found him, slithering up his chest and around his neck, tighter and tighter against the wall. He tenses, big hands coming up and grabbing your wrists with a grip so tight you whimper. "No, shit, shit, shit! Fuck! STOP! NO! I CAN'T!" he panics, gasping for breath while his nails dig into your forearms and drag painfully downward why he tries to pull you away. "Ow, ow baby, hey, you're hurting me," you yelp out. He doesn't stop, eyes switching from tightly closed to open and unfocused while he reaches up to your biceps, clawing at them in defense. You reach out a final time. "Honey, honey, please, it's me," you say, tears balancing on your lower lashes while he rises, taking you with him. He handles you real rough, grabbing you by the shoulders and throwing you to the ground with a loud thud. And god does it hurt.

"HEY!" Eddie's voice booms out, gruff and loud like the rumbles of thunder outside. He gets behind Steve, pulling his arms close to his chest while Steve struggles against him. Erica and Mike hurry toward you to help you slowly up off the floor. You reel at first, wanting to run back to him. "Stay in front of her Wheeler," Ed warns, "You all stay right there." You stand behind Mike with Erica who takes your hand tightly in hers. You feel the pulse of pain in your arms when you look down -- gouges and deep scrapes, the blood shines in the line of the kitchen. You shake your head out of it and watch on as Eddie and Dustin do what they can to help -- the song continues to play in the background. "No, no," Steve whimpers, twisting his wrists in Eddie's grasp to break free, but in this state Eddie is stronger. He pulls him close, Steve back to his chest while they sink back down against the cabinets. "Shh," Eddie soothes, still holding him tight, "We got you, just listen -- you're in my kitchen. You hear the song playing?" Steve grunts, thrashing while Eddie hugs him tighter to him. "Steve, listen, listen to the song," Dustin says, "Focus on me and Eddie's voice, listen." Steve struggles, less intense than before, "Shh, shh, it's okay Harrington," Eddie soothes, rocking him slowly back and forth. "They need me," Steve cries weakly, breaths slowing while he pulls again at Eddie's hold, "Gotta save 'em..." "Steve," Dustin says again, getting closer. He rubs his shoulder slowly, pressing his thumb into the joint, "We're safe, all the kids are safe." "Safe..." he repeats back. Eddie sighs a little in apprehensive relief, letting go of one wrist to run a hand over his head, turning Steve's face into his chest and holding him close. "That's right, Steve," Eddie says softly, "Safe." 'Saw the ghost of Elvis, on Union Avenue, Followed him up to the Gates of Graceland And they watched him walk right through...' Steve can hear the lyrics, warbled and tinny in the Upside Down. 'Safe, safe, safe.' Echoing through the walls -- it gets dimmer. 'Now security they did not see him, They just hovered round his tomb...' Dimmer and dimmer. 'Almost over buddy, I can tell, we're right here. You feel Henderson?' A soft warm rub on his shoulder, the lyrics to the song, Eddie's voice. The sound of vines fade away, he hears the rain, it fades to black. "Walkin' in Memphis..." Steve whispers, half confused, while his eyes open and focus -- squinting in the light of the kitchen. Overwhelmed he looks around while the room tilts on it's axis. He grips Eddie's leg tightly to steady himself, he's breaths picking up again. "It's okay buddy, it's just us," Eddie says again, "You with me?" Steve nods, face cracking while he lets out a broken sob. You can only watch while Eddie flicks his eyes up at you in another warning to not come closer yet. Dustin let's go while Eddie starts to hoist him up, wrapping Steve's arm around his shoulder while he helps him to the guest room down the hall. "C'mon big boy," he says gently, "Let's get you some rest."

Things feel a little quiet after Eddie comes back from the guest room, he's tense -- no longer having fun the way he was before. His eyes are dark while he heads outside into the rain to have a cigarette. Lucas turns off the stereo and The Party sits back down at the kitchen table for a moment to decompress. They silently take out of the Magic the Gathering cards and start to set up again, Erica joins them seamlessly. When things seems a semblance of stable, Nancy gets up and takes your hand and leads you to the bathroom, "Let's check you out, alright?"

You sit on the toilet seat cover while Nancy takes out a first aid kit from under the sink. You listen while she hums the climax of Whitney's 'I Have Nothing' quietly, searching the medicine cabinet for some Bactine for your cuts.

"Are you okay?" she asks, taking both of your hands to outstretch your arms, she turns them to see the damage -- she tries to hide her face of disappointment but it's clear.

"I'll be fine," you say softly while she wipes down the gouges and scrapes, "I can take care of it Nance."

"No, you just -- just let me," she says softly. The Bactine stings -- so does the way she looks at you -- pitifully. You hear Eddie's boots clomp down the hallway before he shows up at the door frame of the bathroom.

"You okay, sweetheart?" he asks -- you wish people would stop asking. They only ask when they see him lose control. You do this all the time, you take care of him all the time.

"I'm okay," you repeat, "A little banged up, but y'know. It's okay."

"Does he do that alot?" Eddie asks, his jaw clenching, "Does he hurt you a lot?"

"This is one of maybe...I don't know -- four times he's gotten physical with me during an episode," you explain, "And you all know about them."

"Does he hurt you when he's here?" Eddie asks, tapping at his temple.

"No, Ed, don't be ridiculous," you sigh, exasperated that he'd even ask.

"Steve's not like that, Eddie," Nancy says, "We've been over this." "Well, here's the thing Nance," he starts, tense, "We're ten years out of this shit and no matter how bad my shit got I've never put a hand on you like that. Ever." "Eddie --" "No, no, listen," he says, "I don't like that, and I especially don't like that happening in my house in front of my pregnant wife." "And what would you like me to do about it, Ed?" you snap, "I can't -- fuck -- I can't fucking fix him for you." "I'm not asking you to fix him," he says back, a pain deep in his chest coming through with his voice, "I'm asking you to be sure that you still want to be a part of this -- your wedding's what -- October? You really wanna be worrying about this?" "For better or for worse, right?" you ask back, choking on the lump in your throat, "That's the promise." Eddie tucks his lips in, his own eyes getting teary while he scans the gouges that Nancy carefully puts bandaids over. "Ice your hip and shoulder for the first couple days," he mutters, biting the edge of his them, "After a fall like that. Then heat." You nod, quietly murmuring a thank you. "S'what my mom used to do," he says under his breath. Eddie scans you slowly one more time, swallowing hard before pushing off the door frame and walking back down the hall. You hear their bedroom door click closed in the distance. "You know how he gets," Nancy says, "Stuff like that y'know -- that's hard for him." "I know." She takes a washcloth, running it under cold water before squeezing it out. Droplets fall on the fabric of her light purple maternity shirt, leaving dark people marks on the top of her belly. She hands it to you. "Here, for his head," she says softly, "In case he's not all the way back yet."

You creep slowly into the guest room, seeing him laying on his stomach with half his face buried in the pillow. His sculpted arms tucked under it to give him something to hold. "Baby?" you ask quietly, "You awake?" He nods with his eyes closed and you look him over -- big hulking man who needs to be held. He hates it but you can't help but love him for knowing he needs it. You put the wet face cloth on the side table, sliding down next to him while he moves over to his side. In one swift motion you've replaced the pillow -- arms wrapping tight around your waist and up your back, one hand molding over your shoulder. He hides his face in your neck and you can feel his tears on his lashes and cheeks. His shoulders shake while he cries for a while, cold sweat damp on his shirt and the back of his neck. You never check how long he cries for – as long as he does. “I’m here,” you say softly, nails grazing his scalp in a steady swipe, “I’m right here.” You adjust a bit in his hold and you feel his grip tighten slightly, a soft whine of desperation leaking from his throat. “Don’t go, please,” he begs softly. “M’not going anywhere big guy,” you soothe, “This wedding’s already put us ten grand in the hole. Where would I even go, now?” You hear a soft ‘tsss’ come out of him, a tug of a smile against the skin of your neck where he hides. 

“Oh, is that funny?” you joke, still coasting your fingers through his hair. He groans, letting his arms let go of you so he can sit up, you can see the tension in his body still. Steve looks down at you with tear stained cheeks and tired eyes, beckoning you forward with his fingers. You sit up for your thank you kiss, his warm palm cupping your cheek while he holds you gently in place. He kisses once slowly, then twice, three times – holding the last so you know he means it. When you break away he rests his forehead against yours, offering a few shallow breaths. You stand up off the bed while he sits off the edge of it, standing between his thighs. 

"Did I hurt you?" he asks softly. He asks after every episode ever since he did hurt you back when you first started dating. A swift smack to the arm that stung for a solid twenty minutes afterward with the amount of power he put into it. It welted. He cried for hours. He wrote you love letters every day for a week. 

You nod, showing him the scratches and bandages on your arms, "I think you thought I was a vine or something. You threw me. Like, to the ground. It was pretty hard."

His lower lip quivers, "No, no, no." “No, Steve,” you assure, trying to calm him, “It’s okay, you didn’t know. It’s alright, I’m alright. It was an accident.” 

His face contorts while the tears start again, his big hands reach out to your waist, pulling you close to him, "It's not okay, it's not alright."

His voice raises an octave while he cries, "I'm sorry, baby."

"It's okay, Stevie, shh," you whisper to him, he pulls you in tighter, body shaking while pressing his nose against your cheek.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he cries, sniffling, "You know I didn't mean it."

"I know you didn't," you say back, your own cry getting caught in your throat. He sniffles again, leaning back to face you, both of his hands cupping your cheeks, his thumbs rubbing the apples.

"I love you," he says with a depth and intensity that makes the lump in your throat give way. You cry with him and it breaks his heart, "I love you so much honey, you know I’d never…"

You nod, trying to calm your cry the way he was able to calm his -- so used to swallowing it up even though you'd beg him not to.

"I – shit – I have to tell you something," he says softly, hands sliding from your cheeks back down to your waist and then your hips. He looks down at the small triangle of mattress between you and the apex of his thighs.

"What's up, Steve?" you ask, running your hands through his hair again soothingly, "What is it?"

He lifts his head up, eyes shutting at the comforting touch, but when he opens them he looks defeated -- guilty, "I haven't been taking my meds at night. I was -- was flushin’ them cause I just -- baby, I don't know. I can't keep depending on this shit."

"Steve."

"I know," he nods, "I know...That's why -- that's why my shit's getting worse."

"You're not just taking this stuff to take it," you say, cupping his cheeks, "It's to keep you here. It's to keep you with me."

"I know," he repeats, voice cracking again, "I'll call my shrink tomorrow I promise. I'll get back on track. Fuck -- I'm sorry -- and I'm -- I'm sorry I was so mean to you this morning."

"It's okay," you nod, pressing a kiss to his forehead. You drop your hands and rub his shoulder, "I think we should go home, alright? We can get on the couch for the night and just rest."

"Okay," he says quietly, nodding. He slowly gets up off the bed, a little dizzy, using you for support. You both slowly walk out of the bedroom, Nancy peeking around the end of the hall.

"Everything good?" she asks.

You smile at her, "Yeah, I think we're gonna head home."

She smiles tightly, heading into the kitchen where the rest of the group still sits, eating and talking. Their heads turn when you both come into view -- soft eyes and smiles.

"I'm okay, guys," Steve nods, barely able to meet their gazes, "It's fine."

Nancy approaches you with a few tupperwares filled with food and dessert, "We'll get the cooler back to you on Tuesday."

"Don't worry about it," you smile, gathering the tupperware in your arms. You watch as the group gets up one by one to give Steve a hug goodbye. Their movements are slow and controlled, warning touches on his shoulders beforehand to remind him ‘It’s just me, it’s just my arms, I’m hugging you’. Soft mumbled words of support, nothing too loud – don’t startle each other. Wraiths of the friendship they all shared earlier. Rehearsed reactions to all of their sensitive needs – if you’ve seen one episode, you’ve seen all of theirs. And you had, once or twice. “I’ll get a copy bound for you,” Erica says while she hugs him. “You make me so proud, Sinclair,” he smiles. Nancy walks you both to the door and you turn, “How’s Ed?” “He’ll call later,” she nods, a look behind her eyes that matches yours. You hug goodbye, share quick reminders about food for the baby shower and a few crafty decoration plans before heading to the car with a very tired Steve. The rain patters on the hood of the Lexus while you both sit in the leather interior, this time with you in the driver's seat. He rubs at his temples with his eyes closed while you rifle through your purse for a sandwich baggie of emergency migraine medicine. “Here,” you say, handing him the pill, “Before it starts to get bad.” “Hmm,” he grumbles in agreement, popping it in his dry mouth to suck it down.  “We’ll be home soon, okay?” you say, hand coming down on his thigh reassuringly, “Just close your eyes for now.” 

He takes the tupperwares when you get out of the car, fishing his keys out of his back pocket while he does. His strides are long while you hurry up behind him, following him into the house only to bump into his back while he’s stopped by the thermostat to turn on the air. “Sorry,” you say softly. “S’okay,” he replies back, barely above a whisper. He puts the food in the fridge while you head upstairs to start a shower, a ritual you’ve both come to learn well after days or nights like these. You take out the good soap, the shower oil, all the aroma therapy you can to get him to ease up. Anyone else watching you get things ready would assume it was about to be a very sexy time for you. On the same coin, these showers are probably the most intimate moments you have with each other. He comes in as the room starts to steam and you help him ease off his polo, you start on the buttons of your dress while he takes off his jeans and socks. He helps with your bra, both of you shedding your underwear at the same time before you step in. Steve soothes almost instantly, his muscles relaxing under the hot stream, sighing further while he gets soaped up. You don’t have to be in there with him, but you do. He needs you so close so he doesn’t float away. His favorite part comes near the end, sitting in the flow of the shower together while you wash his hair. His eyes flutter closed while your nails scratch and massage him – he swears his hair is even thicker than it was before with all the blood flow you encourage. You wash his hair twice, then deep condition, holding him to your chest while you wait the five minutes it takes to settle in. He leaves soft kisses on your collar bone, on all the marks he left on you in Nance and Eddie's kitchen. He holds your hand, so you can’t float away. You both end up on the couch afterward, the leather groaning beneath you both while you lay across the deep seat cushions, you lay on your back, he lays on his side against you. The heat of his bare chest warms you through your oversized sleep shirt. His soft sweat pants tangle up with your bare legs. You let whatever’s on TV play – reruns you guess, you’re thinking about too many other things. “How’s your head, baby?” you ask while his eyes shut, leaning on your shoulder. “S’fine, better,” he says, he lifts your hand and kisses your fingers before placing both his and your hand on your chest over your heart. The ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dum lulling him to sleep. You half watch TV for however long until your own eyelids get heavy. You click off the TV and opt to turn the stereo on low, just so he doesn’t get lost while he sleeps.

You wake up to oldies, music your parents would listen to on records in the living room growing up – songs that came out a few years before you were born. Oldies. It's dark outside but you can still hear the rain. Steve’s already awake, just watching you while his hand smooths back and forth over your sternum. “You snored,” he says. “Good,” you reply quietly. You both snort out breathy laughs, feeling the warmth of his lips as they smoosh against your cheek. “How you feeling?” he asks, hand coming up to rest on your cheek, sliding down the side of your neck. “A little banged up,” you say, “Might bruise.” “M’sorry,” he says again, a tinge of guilty pink tinging his ears. “It’s okay,” you repeat for what feels like the thousandth time in the past six hours. “You looked really pretty today,” Steve says gently, almost sheepish, “I should’ve told you.” “You looked really handsome,” you say back, “But you were kind of being an asshole so I didn’t want to tell you.” “You should’ve told me, it probably would’ve cured my PTSD,” he says seriously but sarcastically, “Could’ve saved the entire afternoon if you just said how good I looked. Prob’ly wouldn’t have had an episode.” “You’re such an ass,” you laugh, smiling. He leans in to kiss you and it’s the kind that makes you too weak to stand. That kiss got him a second date, it proved that they said about old King Steve in highschool. On the stereo, Sherry Baby bleeds into Unchained Melody.

His hand reaches up under your neck to tilt you up toward him, tasting your tongue with his, guiding you with his kiss, “Angel…” he murmurs. He breathes through his nose while he keeps his lips pressed to yours, desperate to stay here in this moment, attached to you. “Steve,” you say softly, breaking away, “Stevie…” “Please,” he whispers, nuzzling your nose slowly, “Please.” “Lemme take care of you.” “I…” your thoughts trail off while he kisses your neck, sucking and nibbling gently at the spot just by the hinge of your jaw. He waits for your soft sigh, the tilt of your hips towards him – your allowance. He grins when he hears the air pass your lips, the realignment of your spine beneath him while he settles between your squishy thighs. His hands travel south, pushing up the hem of your big t-shirt to your waist, holding you there for a moment while his kiss takes over your mouth again. He tugs your cotton panties down, breaking the kiss while he sits up on the couch to slide them off your ankles. Steve looks down at you with an expression that makes your breath catch in your chest, serious – with supple lips, needy eyes. He leads himself back down again, big hands sliding down the sides of your thighs over your hips to your waist again. Instinctively, your legs spring up to wrap around him while his hips align with yours, feeling his strained cock in his sweats against you. “Jesus…” he whispers again, eyes fluttering closed. He buries his face in your neck while you rock slowly against him, the pressure and friction against the underside of his erection sending low volts through his body. “Mm-mm,” he grunts, shaking his head ‘no’ while mumbling, “It’s supposed to be about you.” “Well stop dangling it in front of me then,” you giggle quietly, he giggles too. The smile sends you reeling, his pretty teeth, the way his nose scrunches. He leans forward again to kiss, he just can’t stop kissing, can’t stop tasting your lips, feeling you against him. Steve’s hand reaches down to pull himself out of his sweats, pushing the waistband to the tops of his thighs while he uses the other to push one thigh out off the couch. “You ready f’me?” he asks huskily, tip dragging slowly from the pool of slick at your opening up in between your folds. He lets his thumb run in slow circles over your clit while he waits for your answer, your slow nod while you lean your head back on the arm rest gives him the okay. He eases himself in slow, the tip pushing past your opening with some resistance. “Open up a lil’, honey,” he mumbles quietly while he guides the tip in again, “Open up for me.”

Your little gasps float out of you and into the fuzzy part of his brain, gliding down his spine. You angle your hips upward, one thigh up against the couch cushions and the other dangling over the edge, spread as wide as you can. He holds himself above you with one arm, the other aiding in pushing himself further in, the tip finally breaching your core. He keeps guiding, slow back and forths while you ease open for him – taking him in, inch by inch. “Oh yes, mhm,” he groans to himself softly, “Thass–hmm-that’s it, angel.” He let’s go when he’s three fourths in, crowding over you, forearms on each side of your head while he strokes slowly to start – getting you used to him, accommodating his size. “That’s good?” he breathes. “Ye-yeah,” you breathe back to him. His mouth latches to yours again, feeling him guide your hands up beside your head, lacing fingers while he presses you deeper into the couch cushions. He keeps his strokes slow and deliberate, feeling every ridge of you inside, how you suck him in and hug him tight in place – but how he feels isn’t nearly as important. It’s the way your brows contort, the way you bite your lip, your whines into his mouth while he kisses you. Each slow thrust makes you coat him in a new flow of slickness. “C’mere,” he says into your jawline, letting go of one hand to sneak behind you at the waist, pulling you flush to him. The new angle makes you let out a whine while he hits a spot deep inside you, he grunts at the reaction, the feeling of you taking him in. His pace picks up the smallest tick, face centimeters from yours – your noses brush, lips barely touching while his amber eyes keep steady on yours. You let out short huffs, little whimpers every time the head of his cock pushes deeper with every roll of your hips. “S’nice, hm?” he asks, brows slanting, softening. “Mhm,” you squeak back, “S-so good, honey.” Your legs pull in again, socked heels resting on the top of his butt while he sighs at the change in pressure. “Thassperfect, god,” he hisses out, head dropping down to your chest, pressing sloppy kisses above your breasts while he gathers himself. He groans into your neck while wet warmth tightens over him, soft velvet walls coaxing him closer and closer to the edge. 

Steve’s shoulders flex while he balances on his forearms above you again, your forgotten hand taken by his, fingers interlocked. His face inches from yours while he looks at you, the way your eyes flutter, the soft parting of your lips, the high pitched  ‘Uhn, uhn, uhn, uhn,’s coming out of them — you’re so beautiful.

“So pretty,” he says to you, huffing a breath into a smile, “So pretty, baby.” 

You kiss him a thank you. You see him swallow when he breaks away, his eyes getting glassy. 

“S’gonna be okay,” he assures, nodding down at you, nose to nose, “We’re gonna be okay.” Slow thrusts  between statements. 

“Gonna get married,” he says, a groan flowing right down into your mouth while he kisses you, “Gonna be just like Ed and Nance, right?” 

You nod while his thrusts get more passionate, deeper.

“Yeah? That’s nice?” he asks, “Marry you? Take you just like this after the wedding?” 

“Yeah,” you gasp back, “Yes, Stevie.” 

“Give you a baby?” he asks in a low whisper into your skin, lips pressing against your cheek, his strong nose dragging against your cheek bone, “Give you so many babies. You want that?” 

“I want that,” you nod, face pinching while you feel yourself building up and up in a slow churn. 

“You want that?” he asks again, coming back to hover over you — tears in his eyes, “You want that with me?” 

You nod to each other while he embraces you in an old movie kiss, wrapping himself around you, pressing him to his chest while his thrusts get purposeful, controlled. 

“I love you,” he pants into your ear, “I’m yours, m’all yours.”

“I love you, too,” you rasp back, free’d fingers interlocking in his hair. He gets leverage on his knees, the leather of the couch squeaking under him while he repositions. Soft smacks of skin between you echo in the living room against the backdrop of the low stereo.   “Oh my god, Steve,” you moan out, “You’re – oh god you’re so deep.” “So deep, angel, Christ–” he huffs, trying to make a mental note of this position so he can remember it for October – really make it stick. His thought process stifled when your nails drag down his back, making his passionate thrusts quicken – a signature cocky smirk flick across his lips. “Mmm, that feels good honey?” he asks – he knows the answer. Your mouth hangs open in a silent scream, tears glazing over your eyes while he feels you pulse over him. Thank god the couch was leather. Watching you bathe in the afterglow of your orgasm he works you toward the second with ease, chasing his pleasure with each soaking thrust into you – so nice like this, so pliant – his little ragdoll. When he cums it’s deliberate, spilling inside you with your eyes on each other. You give one another breathless kisses, bodies interlocked, sticking to the couch in new found exhaustion. The phone rings. Neither of you get up to answer it. ‘BEEP. You’ve reached the Harrington residence – Did you forget my last name isn’t Harr– If you’re calling before October 1997 then it’s not just the Harrington residence yet but – whatever you know what I mean. Leave a message, we might call ya back.’

“Hey Harrington it’s Munson, um, just making sure you’re okay, man. Sorry I disappeared for a little bit there. Love you, call me back when you can. Bye.” 

thanks for reading. <3

[shanksbaby]

Hello can you do admirals with a s/o who can't get mad, not exactly like kuzan cuz he could still have disagreements, but I mean you could throw a brick at them and they would just get it treated, and then be like don't do that again or sum-

btw love the writing keep it up👍

the request are closed but since i like this prompt so much, i decided to write anyway, thank you for the kind words!

Admirals with a difficult to anger S\0

Borsalino

you two are very similar. In fact, no one has ever seen Kizaru angry, or actually feel any negative emotion, he always wears the same smirk. And even though he sometimes seems sadistic in dealing with the pirates he doesn't show anger like Sakazuki.

literally the most peaceful couple in the world

joking aside, I feel like colliding with Kizaru or Kizaru colliding with you are very rare events. It's more likely that Kizaru gets mad at you for something, although as soon as he sees your little face looking at him with that calm look he forgets all his anger.

but these events are rare, you never get angry and Kizaru is too lazy to start an argument with you, among other things with a person who has never raised his voice with anyone.

and even when he gets angry with you, the yellow monkey can at most show a face of frustration, but he will never raise his voice at you (in reality he has never done this with anyone), if the topic involves him excessively he may change tone of voice (he doesn't raise it but simply stops dragging the words)

Sakazuki

I think you are one of the few, if not the only person to calm his anger. But in the beginning it wasn't always like this… the first time he got pissed at you and saw you looking at him with that innocent look while asking him to please stop because he was attracting attention, he thought you were teasing him.

then he started to understand that you couldn't get angry, he doesn't know how you do it, especially when the world is full of idiots and incompetents.

at first he looked at you as if you were an alien, sometimes he tried to force you to get angry, for example by shouting at you for silly things at work, but nothing seemed to trigger your anger so he gave up feeling defeated. You are one of the few people who managed to surprise him.

when you see him get angry you always try to calm him down (also because you are worried about his physical well-being). Sometimes you succeed, other times you just end up making the situation worse. But you never get angry with him, so much so that the marines think you are some kind of divine gift.

Kuzan

as Jinbei said, Aokiji is a man who rarely shows his passion. Generally he never gets angry either, he is much more laid back (similar to Borsalino). So arguments with him are very rare, also because he really doesn't have the energy to argue, especially with you.

he was surprised when after a guy spilled a drink on you only for you to refuse him and you just looked at him and told him he shouldn't have done that…I mean, he got mad about you and you, on the other hand, didn't Did you show the slightest sign of anger?

so, just like Sakazuki, he tried to whet your anger, through for example jokes like throwing you in the pool or ruin your food, but nothing. All you did was ask him to never do that again because you didn't like these pranks.

the rare times he gets angry with you and raises his voice (we know that in fact he can be loud sometimes), he immediately feels guilty when he looks into your eyes. You are too cute to be mad. Then she immediately apologizes and tries to make up for what he has done through gifts or bringing you coffee.

I am sorry if it's short but sadly i am in session + i have to go at the university for the laboratories

[juniperpyre]

canon lily evans: who is she? part 1

there have been many fanon iterations of lily j. evans over the past two decades. she's been a perfect mother and wife, a goody two shoes who plays by the rules and makes sure everyone else does, she's been a kind, intelligent, beautiful dream girl, a genuis, fighting badass who takes no shit and solves everyone's problems, she's been a bitch, she's been an incubator.

it's hard to make an argument for or against any of these traits. we see little of her in canon, and much of it from highly biased sources (petunia, severus). nonetheless, lily j. evans has a canon foundation. let us explore.

we first hear of lily as she is mourned by professor mcgonagall, hagrid, and dumbledore. we see little to no characterization beyond the intensity of sadness all three feel over lily and james' deaths. plenty of people have died in the war, but lily and james' death seem to hit hard.

we hear lily's voice with harry for the first time in the third book, as she begs voldemort to spare her son.

we do not hear about her again besides references to harry's eyes until the 5th book.

snape's worst memory

we first see lily from snape's perspective, in his memories.

what an introduction. lily and james are at odds and it's lily that broke her way into the confrontation. she does not hesitate to command james, or to show her anger. but she also speaks cooly. she only shouts once to get james' attention as she's walking over and then chooses her words carefully. her goal is to hurt james, to shame him enough that he backs down.

we can see from her multiple insults to james—unnecessary, she could simple tell him to stop more, or appeal to his good nature, or get a teacher, or try to disarm him—that she is choosing cruelty in this moment. she believes james is behaving badly (unjustly, perhaps) and her method to stop him is publicly insulting him. the punishment matches the crime.

this all shows a decisiveness to lily's actions. she is sure of herself, quick thinking, she values justice more than popularity, and she is okay with being mean. if someone, james in this instance, has transgressed far enough outside of morality she is fine with using immoral behavior to put them in their place.

we could argue that insulting james is not immoral behavior, or that lily does not believe it is. but the fact is lily is trying to (emotionally) hurt james to protect snape when she has by-the-book options. she is not an idealist, and does not seem a goody-two shoes. (of course, she could've attacked him, but that wouldn't de-escalate. she's not a violent person, or too impulsive).

and then we come to this moment. still in the introduction to lily's character, snape calls her a Mudblood.

lily does not shout. she blinks. she responds with an insult meant to further humiliate snape.

james shouts. james is ready to attack over the use of a slur, but lily is not. perhaps this is because the consequences will always be worse for her. perhaps she knows reacting will give the bigots watching satisfaction. perhaps her emotions are too private for this moment. whatever reason, lily is in control, and she uses insults to regain her power.

"you're as bad as he is"

i rarely see this line worked through in jily fics. this line shows the deepest insight into lily's perspective. it is the first time she shouts, it's an emotional reaction. comparing james to snape may be a cruel statement designed to hurt james, but because lily did not deliver this line cooly, with foresight, i believe it is her true feelings.

she proceeds to insult james with, imo, fairly trivial bullshit, aside from the hexing. it's not that these actions are so horrible; lily is angry at james for his attitude. james gets to walk the halls without a care in the world and he clearly carries a sense of superiority. he isn't thinking about how his actions affect others. he doesn't have think about the sociopolitics of a situation until someone is shouting Mudblood in his face.

this is why lily sees james as bad as snape. james thinks he's a good guy, but he's contributing to a school environment where two rich pureblood boys get to torment whoever they like! he's not fighting bigotry just because he doesn't use slurs. james is ignorant and doing harm, like most teenagers.

lily sees the way both boys are hurting people, many of them vulnerable, and can't see a true difference. fair enough!

the next we hear of this is confirmation from remus and sirius that lily did not hate james, and that james became less of a dick. I'm sure both of these men remember james and lily overly-fondly. however, i believe their statements create a sketch of what happened off the page. james matured. there isn't a comment on lily maturing, however.

the memory highlights lily's self-control, her Machiavellian perspective on combating wrongdoing, her deep rooted anger and morals, her wit, and her strong sense of loyalty.

it isn't until the 6th book that we receive more insight into lily's character. this comes from horace slughorn, her potions master.

horace slughorn & lily evans

he remembers lily as one of the brightest students he ever had. vivacious means full of life, animated. though it also indicates attractiveness, i find it meaningful that slughorn isn't commenting primarily on lily's appearance or her kindness but on her passions and spirit. it leads me to believe that slughorn did care about lily as a person.

slughorn also says lily is charming and cheeky. all of his descriptors point towards an attractive and friendly personality, but not one with a strong fondness for rules. she's cheeky to a teacher, and that is not the trait of a goody-two shoes, a stick in the mud, or a doormat of a housewife. lily has beliefs that she will be made known, even if it may go against the grain.

we saw in snape's worst memory that lily used insults to keep control of a situation and express discontent without showing too much emotion. she had a sharp tongue and a quick mind that she used in all situations. though she showed parts of herself and her beliefs that were not popular, she was keeping aspects of herself guarded. this is shrewd and indicates a keen understanding of social politics, and possibly unhealthy emotional repression.

furthermore, slughorn believes she could have been in slytherin. he could tell that she used social manipulation. i do not think lily put on a mask, but she was particular with what parts of herself she allowed people to see. this also leads me to believe lily did not play by the rules when it came to success, that she showed ambition and cunning. slughorn liked successful students—even in the horrible political climate he saw her going somewhere.

in a highly emotional moment, slughorn says that lily is very brave and very funny. he can't imagine someone not liking her. people are better remembered in death, but slughorn is consistent in highlighting her humor. we also see a mention of her bravery. perhaps this is something he realized once she'd died. more likely he saw it in her during her school years.

the repeated traits we see from teenage lily in severus' memories and slughorn's recollection are being quick-witted, humorous, and brave/justice-seeking. she has a playful disposition and seems to have a secure sense of boundaries and decent emotional regulation for a teenager.

in her negative traits, we observe a propensity to use cruelty as a tool. however, we only see this in an intense moment. lily is not openly shown as someone with true bad traits, or as someone who changes over time, in the first six books.

james is given that complexity. snape's worst memory shows a pivotal moment for both men. this is the scene's point in the narrative: to offer complexity to these men. but is it a pivotal moment for lily? she is used to further both men's character development, but we see no change in her.

part 2 will discuss what we learn about lily in the 7th book.

[impishjesters]

hiii! Could I just say that I absolutely love your writing and they way you describe jax? I love your writing style as well. So-

Could you write a jax x reader where the reader is very sensitive and prone to crying? Like they have a super loud and bold personality, kind of like jax, so you'd think a few mean words wouldn't affect them right? Wrong. They're actually super sensitive and can cry easily. Like maybe if jax were to get into a fight with reader and maybe takes it too far?

warnings(s): Jax, insults/name calling, nondescriptive arguments, angst (I tried to balance it out with some fluff in the second half) note(s): Jax is a noticeable ass in the first half of this, honestly Jax is his own warning A/N: I truthfully believe that his reaction would heavily depend on whether the two of you were just two people trapped here vs in a relationship of some sort. I don't want to post him being only an asshole, so I included his response/reactions if you were his s/o as well. (Also thank you for the kind words! 💜)

As two people trapped in the digital hellscape together

It doesn’t take you long to learn Jax’s disregard for the emotions of others. His blatant disregard for Gangle’s tears and Pomni’s little panic attacks that he only eggs on are proof enough.

Jax would’ve never suspected you to be sensitive given your loud and bold personality, he’s never noticed the subtle change in your posture or behavior when you get insultingly clumped in with the rest—or if he did notice, he never said anything.

A fight with Jax is a one-sided fight, he’ll throw some backhanded question about why you were suddenly being a crybaby, an unfunny joke about how you must’ve taken Gangle’s tragedy mask when he wasn’t looking.

“Look it’s not that big of a deal, I don’t know why you’re getting all bent out of shape.”

Jax is an ass through and through, he’s not trying to gaslight you into believing you’re crying over nothing, he genuinely believes you’re making a big deal out of nothing. It’s just words.

As his s/o

Again you are aware of just what kind of person Jax is—that said you are given some leniency to his awful behavior, unlike the others you have a special place in his chest cavity

As mentioned above he never really suspected you to be sensitive, though he can sort of piece two and two together when your behavior changes or if you just up and outright walk away.

Seeing your eyes water is definitely an indicator that what was said may have offended you in some manner.

Jax isn’t good with this sort of stuff, does he approach you and ask about it? Or does he just ignore it and let you come to him?

Ah, fuck…

It’s not that he doesn’t care that he upset you, but he’s just a tad confused about why you are suddenly upset.

The whole thing gets even messier when the two of you get into a fight. To him, this “fight” isn’t a big deal, when you mention that it’s something he said callously, he’s reminded of the times you walked away seemingly upset.

It takes him a few minutes to compose his thoughts and word himself carefully enough to avoid making the situation any worse, it’s one of the rare times you’ll get him to be more genuine and serious to work this out.

Afterward, he makes the effort to remember not to say or do certain things that particularly upset you. Though it’s tough, sometimes that shit just comes out with no filter, and whoops there he goes saying the thing he told himself he wasn’t going to say with you around.

None of it is ever directly aimed at you though, he can do that much at least.

On the occasion that something minor slips he’ll apologize later on, sigh, and give you a hug. Hugs don’t fix everything but they do get you to stop crying. (This is usually only during cases where you get choked up levels of sensitivity, like, a dog in a movie died and that’s a sad kind of sensitivity.)

On the topic of crying, Jax playfully (genuine) pokes fun at you when you cry over something minuscule. He’ll tease and ask if it’s a hobby crying over the little things—again not maliciously, if anything it’s kinda cute. (You are allowed to take a smack at him if his teasing is too much, he probably deserves it.)

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

I saw Charlie was on your list and screamed! (get it?) I would love Charlie secretly having sex with the popular school princess after she got sorely dumped by her popular boyfriend. They can wear cute matching halloween costumes and get caught together on the couch by Kirby. She is the only of her friend who wouldn't make too much fun of her

Some late (slightly) spooky vibes with Charlie. There is not enough fics about him *crying*

Warnings: mention of cheating, secret meetings

—

While everyone thought you were heartbroken after getting cheated on by Trevor, you were having the best time bouncing on Charlie Walker’s cock. You and him were an unusual match — the popular princess and the history geek —, but you worked. 

It all began two weeks ago when you and Trevor got into an argument in his truck. He was supposed to take you to his place since his parents were out of town for the weekend, but when he stopped for gas on the way there, he left his phone unlocked and you saw a new message coming in from ‘Tamara🍑’ — a fucking nude. You confronted him about it and he called you out for invading his privacy and snooping through his phone when it was his fault for leaving his phone unlocked and sexting with other girls behind your back. Because apparently, there was more than one. 

What a piece of shit. 

Between the heated voices and the tears, Trevor stopped the truck and told you to get out…on the side of the road. Thankfully, you knew where you were, but it wasn’t less shitty of him to dump you on the street like that. 

You tried to call Kirby, but it went to voicemail. Where was she? And to make the situation worse, your phone was running low on battery. 

It was shortly after that Charlie found you. He was walking home from Robbie’s and found you sitting on the curbside, crying.  It was dark and difficult to see, but he knew it was you. He recognized your pink socks peeking out of your sneakers. 

He approached you slowly, coming to a stop beside you, and looked down at your tear stained face. “Uh, hey…You alright?” Charlie knew it was a stupid question. You were clearly upset, but he asked anyway.

‘’I think Trevor and I just broke up,’’ you said simply. 

‘’What happened?’’ he asked, not really caring but willing to be the ear or shoulder you needed. Charlie would do anything to get close to you. 

You hesitated. You would have preferred to talk to your best friend about this, but Kirby wasn't picking up your calls. Charlie was just your table neighbor from Spanish class, but he was right there. 

‘’I caught him sexting other girls.’’ 

Disbelief and anger crossed Charlie’s face. You said girls in plural, as in more than one. 

He shook his head slightly, looking at you with sympathy, and sat down next to you on the curb. ‘’Fucking asshole.’’ 

You couldn’t agree more. 

Charlie pulled his sleeve up in his hand, carefully wiping the tears off your face. His hand lingered on your chin for a moment before letting his arm fall back to his side. “If you were my girlfriend, I could never cheat on you. You’re the prettiest girl in this shithole.”

His kind words caused a blush to form on your face. You’ve never really paid attention to Charlie before. All you knew about him was that he was president of the Woodsboro Cinema Club, which Kirby was part of. You’ve also been to last year’s Stab-a-thon with her. It was your first time seeing Stab. You remember Charlie sitting next to you and telling you all sorts of facts about the movie. It was sweet of him, and surprisingly interesting. 

When you were in her car, Kirby pointed out that he’s been crushing on you for a long time.  

You didn't remember how it happened, but you kissed Charlie. Maybe it was because you were hurt and needed comfort, or maybe it was because you needed to feel loved after finding out Trevor’s side girls. If he was sexting with other girls, he clearly didn't love you enough. So, you decided to find affection from someone who would give it to you. It was wrong to take advantage of Charlie’s feelings, to use him to make yourself feel better, but your heart was hurting and it was clouding your judgment.

Charlie was stunned when your lips touched his. He didn't think he would ever get a chance with you. Popular girls never fall for the geeks. That only happens in rom-coms. But here you were, kissing him and grabbing the front of his hoodie to pull him closer.

As you kissed, he could feel the damp streaks of your tears on your cheeks, and smell the sweet vanilla of your perfume. He let you pull him like a puppet, just happy that you were kissing him and finally giving him the attention he’s been dreaming of for so long…even if it was just you needing comfort.  

You took comfort to another level when you followed Charlie to his house and asked him to take you to his bed. He should have pushed you away and offered to walk you home, but his dick was so hard and straining against his pants from the feeling of your tits pressing against his chest.  

After that night, you started seeing each other regularly.  

Despite his lack of experience, Charlie was a good listener and a quick learner. He was sweet and funny…and a little bit of a freak too. He let you do things Trevor would never have, like letting you on top and taking full control, or putting a finger up his ass. It sounded unpleasant, but Charlie never came faster. You were both shocked. 

Tonight was the Halloween party at Kirby’s. You usually were not that excited for Halloween, but you couldn’t wait to see Charlie’s reaction to your costume. The horror movie nerd in him will love it. You spent the day helping her put out decorations and made spooky snacks. Cooking was not your best talent, but the mummy dogs and graveyard brownies were looking good. 

‘’Laurie Strode?’’ Kirby said with a frown when she saw you later that night, dressed in  a blue shirt and a blond wig. ‘’Since when do you watch horror movies?’’

‘’I’m not a fanatic like you, but I do watch some of them,’’ you corrected, making yourself a drink and taking one of the graveyard brownies. 

Skeptical, Kirby hummed, and bit the head off a green sour patch kids. ‘’Charlie!’’ she called toward the living room. ‘’I think I found your other half!’’ 

Your heart started pounding in your chest, thinking you had been discovered by Kirby, but she actually meant your costumes. You were Laurie Strode and he was…Michael Myers. 

With a drink in one hand, Charlie Walker entered the room. He raised his eyebrows as soon as he saw you, a smile forming on his face. Your shirt was visibly too small and tight around the chest, which triggered mental visuals of what was underneath. 

‘’Not babysitting tonight?’’ he asked, trying to compose himself. Even after a few weeks of being together, he still got a little flustered around you.  

You shook your head. ‘’No one needed me, I guess.’’ 

‘’Just because you’re off duty doesn’t mean I won’t stab you tonight.’’ Charlie took a sip of his beer, hoping it would make you laugh. 

You did laugh, as a matter of fact. It was a dorky joke, but his delivery was charming enough to amuse you. 

‘’Do you want to take a picture,’’ you asked, pulling out your phone. 

Charlie nodded and you posed as your characters — you screaming while he attempted to stab you. It wasn’t strange for you to get close to him, and to be touchy — you’ve touched each other a lot more intimately —, but the other people at the party were surprised to see you both socializing with each other. To their knowledge, you and Charlie only knew each other through mutual friends. The complicity and the comfortableness between you should not have been there. 

After taking pictures, Olivia snatched you away from him and began telling you about the guy she just made out with but was now avoiding because she didn’t want him to think he had a chance with her. You felt bad for leaving Charlie like that, but you couldn’t tell Olivia you were talking to him because she would have asked questions. You didn’t want to deal with her judgment. She may be your friend, but she would judge you for having sex with Charlie. 

The only person who wouldn’t judge you too much is probably Kirby. 

But you liked having a secret affair with Charlie. It was something that was only yours. A part of your life you didn’t share with anyone. 

You crashed on the couch with a tired yawn as the house started to empty out. The party had been fun, but after hours of loud music and chatter, the sudden quiet felt like a welcome relief. You took the tv remote and flipped through the channels. It’s Halloween night, there must be something good on. 

Ah, Nightmare on Elm street. 

Settling back into the cushions, you tried to catch up with the scene on the tv. The movie was only fifteen minutes in, so it shouldn't be too hard to follow. 

‘’The reboot isn't half as bad as people make it out to be,’’ a voice chimed in from behind. 

You glanced up to see Charlie leaning over the back of the couch. A smile curled on your lips, pleased to see him. You assumed he had left with Robbie. 

‘’The lead acting sucked, the CGIs were horrible, the kills were nothing new, and come on, Krueger was already a child killer, it was unnecessary to make him a child rapist too—’’ Charlie went on.

You shot him a glare. ‘’Don’t spoil the whole movie! I’ve never seen it.’’ 

Charlie’s expression changed. ‘’Are you serious?! Never?’’ He stepped around the couch and flipped through Kirby’s DVD collection under the tv. It was small, but he knew she had the Nightmare on Elm street box set. ‘’We’re fixing that right now. You must watch the original. This is garbage compared to it.’’

‘’But you just said it wasn’t bad,’’ you said, quirking an eyebrow in confusion.

Charlie looked over his shoulder, correcting you. ‘’That’s not what I said. I said it isn't half as bad as people make it out to be. Not that it was great.’’

He set the disc in the DVD player, then sat with you on the couch.

You were quickly captivated by the movie, your eyes never leaving the tv screen as you watched Freddy torment these teenagers in their dreams — well, nightmares. The character of Freddy looked different from the one in the remake, and Charlie explained that it was because it wasn’t Robert Englund under the makeup. 

When you got to the scene where Glen overheard Tina and Rod having sex in Tina’s parent’s bedroom, Charlie shifted on the couch. The scene was over thirty seconds, and hearing moanings while sitting next to you was making his mechanic suit feel tight in the crotch area. At his house, he would have made a move, but you were at Kirby’s. She could come in at any moment. 

His shifting got your attention. You looked at Charlie, who was staring at the tv with a clenched jaw, and immediately figured what was happening. He was terrible at hiding that he was turned on. Mischief in your eyes, you couldn’t resist having a little fun. Quietly, you moved your hand towards his thigh.

Charlie’s body stiffened automatically as he felt your hand on his thigh. He was hoping you didn’t notice how he was getting hard, but it was too late for that now. 

He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself, but then you moved your hand higher. ‘’Stop,’’ he muttered through gritted teeth, covering your hand with his. ‘’Kirby—’’

‘’She’s not here. Everyone’s gone home.’’ 

‘’It’s her house. She’s somewhere.’’ 

You sighed. ‘’Then, let’s go somewhere else.’’

—

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[punkeccentricenigma]

Rise!Boys accidentally confess their love to Reader.

Relationship status: Romantic

Reader prounouns: They/Them

TW: Slight angst for Raph's part, Some grammatical errors because english is not my first language.

Author's note: Just enjoy lol.

.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚｡⋆. .⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚｡⋆.

Leonardo

◇ Ever since Leo realized his feelings, his casual demeanor towards [Y.N] had turned into almost aggressively flirting.

◇ Despite not wanting to rush into confessing his feelings, he was practically a simp for that person..

◇ But he also teased them often, of course, not on a seriously offensive level. Just light pokes and prods.

◇ I'm sure he bragged to anyone about his not-yet relationship with [Y.N].

"Oh, and I recently won a unicorn plushie for them, and they were really delighted! WE'RE MEANT TO BE TOGETHER!"

"Pepino, get the hell out of here."

◇ Just as Donatello had enough of his (non-)twin, he now wanted to dig a hole to hell and throw him in there to finally get some rest.

◇ Anyway, the accidental confession happened one night when neither he nor [Y.N] could sleep.

◇ They were sending each other various memes through Discord in bulk. This boosted his confidence even more, leading to him typing 'I love you.'

◇ Of course, he hadn't sent it yet; his mind was suddenly filled with not-so-good thoughts. What if they don't feel the same? What if they laugh at him?? Or something worse?!

◇ Despite his persona, the boy was full of insecurities, from his looks to his personality, but with them... he felt good about himself.

◇ But would such a confession be too simple? The boy decided to wait at least one day before confessing his love.

◇ But fate said 'nuh-uh,' and his phone fell on Leo's face, causing panic. Due to his carelessness, he held the device wrong, resulting in the accidental sending of the ill-fated message.

"No, no, no, NO!" His voice trembled as he tried to delete the message immediately. Unfortunately, the app froze to his disadvantage. "Damn it!"

◇ When he managed to reopen the app, there was a new message.

◇ "... You are not joking, right?"

◇ This night would last even longer than a turtle had anticipated.

Raphael

◇ I think it happened during the attack on their home by Shredder. Absolute chaos, a storm of emotions, the perfect situation for an imperfect love confession.

◇ "Raph, have you lost your mind?!" [Y.N] began, full of outrage. "Why didn't you let me stay? Splinter and Draxum need help!"

The turtle furrowed his brow bones, looking down at the shorter person with regret. "It was the only way, I'm sure they'll handle it."

"And what if they don't? What if they needed our help right now?"

◇ No matter how advanced [Y.N]'s combat skills were, Raphael was even more opposed to the idea.

◇ "Nothing will happen to them!" Raphael raised his voice, as if trying to convince not only the teenager but himself. "And stop arguing with me; I'm the leader here, and I make the decisions!"

"Damn it, I don't understand you! I could handle it, and you would have more time to plan; I'm not needed here!!"

◇ Just a reminder, everyone present was watching this argument.

◇ "Yes, you are!"

"No, I'm not!"

"You are! I don't want to lose you like Gram Gram; I love you too much!" His angry red face suddenly turned shocked. Oh, oh. Did he really just say that??

◇ His dark eyes met the teenage counterpart's. Their whole face was red, and their determination to sacrifice themself slowly faded from their eyes.

"... Fine," [Y.N] muttered and sat down in the seat next to Michelangelo.

◇ When all this chaos is over, they'll have to talk, this time more calmly.

Donatello

◇ Donnie has a need to be as organized as possible, so before suggesting anything, he has to plan everything out and make sure that any confession of feelings will go perfectly.

◇ Of course, he had a large folder with potential scenarios that could happen before and after the confession. It had a bit of a vibe from his previous reincarnation, but much less scary and obsessive - he simply felt strong discomfort without preparation.

◇ Leo likes to tease him about it, by the way.

◇ Anyway, there was one situation the boy didn't anticipate. One night, he had been working on another invention all night, aimed at stealing another battery from the Purple Dragons, and in the morning, he fell asleep at his desk, or rather, he was half-unconscious.

◇ "Dee, come to bed." Raphael's voice echoed through the lab, gently shaking the sleepy Soft-shell's naked shoulder. In response, he got some sluggish syllables and a hiss. "You can't sit here like this; it's not healthy." "And sitting here all night is unhealthy enough," he added quietly.

"Get lost..." That's all the turtle understood. Raph rolled his eyes and moved away from his brother a bit.

"I'm not going to struggle; I'm sleep-deprived myself," the red-loving enthusiast said, picking up his phone.

◇ And so [Y.N] appeared in the lair, as the ultimate weapon.

◇ "Donnie! Get up! Lie down in bed!" The teenager themself was not well-rested, considering the early hour, but they tried not to sound irritated. Donnie mumbled something again and straightened up in his chair.

"Raphaello, leave me alone," Donnie started, putting his hands on the keyboard. Apparently, he had no intention of opening his eyes. "I still need to make a few changes to the code..."

"Wait, do you think I'm Raph??" [Y.N] asked in surprise, pointing at themself. Did their voice really sound so manly and deep?? Since when??

"And you're talking in the third person again; I've told you that it's no longer fashionable." Donnie tried not to hit his head against the desk even a little, wanting to at least be somewhat awake. The human wanted to say something, correct him, but gave up with a certain idea in their mind.

◇ they had noticed strange aspects of their friend's behavior lately. He was more open to their, often grabbing their hand or hugging their despite his usual aversion to it, he made various devices for their that made quite an impression on their... there had to be something to it!

◇ "Hey, buddy," the human leaned lazily against the desk, trying their best to mimic the speech style of the oldest of the brothers. "Do you, you know, have something going on with our best, most wonderful human friend??"

"You mean April?" Ouch, that hurt, even though [Y.N] felt the same way. "She's our almost-sister, Raph, yuck."

◇ "Oh, no! [Y.N], I meant [Y.N]!" The teenager corrected themself, slightly annoyed. It was weird.

"What about them? I already told you." No! Not like that!

"Ahahah, you know I have a bad memory when I'm not stressed!"

"Mh..." Pause. Did they say something wrong? Donatello is overly smart; he should figure out what's wrong! How will they explain this? "Everything's fine; my plan will be initiated in half a year at the latest." Plan? What plan??

"Plan...?"

"Rendezvous plan, duh," Donnie replied, resting his head on his hand. "I know you advised against it, but I can't do it differently. I need everything to be tip-top before I confess my feelings to them."

◇ "..."

◇ "..."

◇ "Raph...?"

◇ [Y.N] remained silent, trying to control their sudden heartbeat and their face turning as red as a strawberry.

Michelangelo

◇ Playing the role of Dr. Delicate Touch, the boy knew perfectly well what he felt and wanted to confess his love, but the natural fear of rejection also got to him.

◇ He wanted to think this all through. He wanted to do it as smoothly and charmingly as possible, but not in a way that made it seem like he didn't care. He didn't want to throw such important words to the wind!

◇ His artist's soul played a significant role here. Every time he felt great, he had to sketch something related to love.

◇ Just woke up from a fantastic dream? He had to quickly grab his sketchbook and sketch [Y.N] in a floral wreath.

◇ He was on patrol and saw their favorite cafe? He started sketching the teenager drinking coffee in the nearby sand with his finger, taking a picture of it as a keepsake.

◇ Spending quality time with [Y.N]? He convinced them to start painting each other with his favorite markers, and under the pretext of light fun, he drew orange hearts on their cheeks.

◇ It was all fun until there was an 'accident' during one of the previously mentioned activities.

◇ So, Mikey and [Y.N] were in his new room after Shredder's attack, and he needed help with some unique decoration.

◇ "Wait, isn't that a neon banner from the nearby store??" The teenager asked, pointing at the mentioned thing, peeking out from behind the boy.

"I neither confirm nor deny it!" Mikey laughed, shrugging his shoulders. "You have to admit it fits perfectly."

"Mhm, but I doubt you'll fall asleep with this," [Y.N] said skeptically, picking up one of the cardboard boxes that contained a surplus of notebook-like items. "Where does this go?"

"Oh! Just put it next to the cabinet; I'll put them in the drawers in a sec."

The human nodded, and as they took a few more steps, they tripped over the cables lying on the floor. they fell to the ground with a squeak, dropping the box less than half a meter in front of them.

"Are you okay??" The orange-loving enthusiast quickly ran to his friend, helping them get up as they groaned in pain.

"Yeah, I think so..." Their voice trailed off, surprising Mikey, who followed their gaze.

◇ His pupils immediately narrowed upon seeing an open sketchbook with many drawings and sketches of [Y.N], with a predominant theme of love.

"Mikey...?"

"IT'S NOTHING!" The teenager shouted, hastily picking up the sketchbook from the floor and pressing it against his plastron.

◇ Their faces both turned equally red with excessive thinking.

◇ Oops.

[pandorasfavorite]

STOP OMG HI, yk the promo the tjd had with Santos and this new group or whatever. N how Dom didn't tell the judgement day , can the reader also be in there and jd doesn't have to exist that's up to you but can you do something like the reader notices how the girl with the pony tail i think her name was elektra lopez but like she was flirting with dominik right infront of the reader and the reader gets jealous and ignores dom the whole night? YOU CAN MAKE UP THE REST BUT THATS ALL TYY I LOVE YOUR WORK BTWW

Petty Antics

AN: Am I the only one who hates re-reading my work for mistakes? It makes me want to propel off of a bridge or sum. Thank you for loving my work- I love you 🩷.

“Hey! What’s up guys!”, Dominik throws his hands up and smiles when they walk in. Santos greets Dominik while everyone stands back and watches with overflowing confusion. You most of all. When he pulls back you smack him on the chest and scold him, “You didn't tell us we had company”. Everyone else nods and Rhea glares at Santos's group. While you are staring at this new group of people (that only Dominik knew), Damian pulls him to the side by the arm. However when you see the angry look and a vein popping out on Damian’s forehead; you start to watch more closely. You really hated the hard grip he had on Dominik’s arm out of the whole situation so far. It’s clear Dominik was embarrassed to be confronted in front of his friends and nervous by the encounter. So when he walked back over with a jittery look you couldn’t help but put a comforting hand on his arm. “You’ve done it now”, Rhea also scolds him. 

Dominik looks at you, “Mami, can you talk to Priest? Tell him not to get so mad?”, he asks and rocks on his feet nervously. You bite your lip and consider how you would talk to him, but you know it would come better out of Rhea’s mouth. You turn to look at her with an exhausted expression, “Could you?”. Her shoulders drop a bit but she agrees anyway and she talks to Dom again, “We need to get this communication back under control”. She reminded him with no room for argument. Quite frankly you had to agree with her, out of everyone you thought Dominik would tell you. After all, you were his soon-to-be wife, and keeping secrets was a quick ticket to trouble. Now it was your turn to reprimand him, “Communicate okay? Now deal with your friends”. 

He rubbed a hand over his mouth while you sternly spoke to him. He hated it when you were mad at him with a burning passion. It was one of the worst things he had to endure. “Everyone! Meet Judgment Day! Mami, Rhea, Finn, JD”, you glare at the group; not hiding your dislike. You cross your arms and stay closed off much like the rest of the group. From beside you, Rhea is in her own world as you were, until a hand reaches out to touch you. You smack the guy's hand away, “Don’t touch me” you grit. When you said that Dominik’s smile dropped and he looked at the guy, ‘hey hey’ he peered through him. The same guy put his hands up and smiled at you and Dominik both. At that, Dominik lightened up again but you refused. At this point, you thought nothing could make this situation worse. 

From that point on Dominik spent his time trying to entertain his friends while you stood beside Rhea and Finn to the side of you. Of course, JD lingered in the back not saying a word; just as you liked it. You found solace in standing beside your friends without looking at your Finance spend his time with people he barely knew. But when Rhea whispered in your ear to “look up”, you could’ve burst into flames. Elektra or whoever the fucks she was reached out and touched Dominik’s hair. In other words, she was trying to take your man on how he looked. Dominik’s nose scrunched up at the interaction and just stepped back not paying much attention to it after that. He moved away from her and tried to continue what he was doing. What you would’ve preferred was for him to call you over; especially considering the fact you were 10 feet away. Then not even 2 minutes after he shifted away from her she was reaching out to trace the tattoos on his arm. 

This had to be a joke; like someone had to be playing a prank on you for this to actually be happening. Now you personally wouldn’t consider yourself a jealous person; others happen to disagree. But only yours and Dominik’s opinion matters really. And when Dominik agreed that you were a jealous person; you had tried to dial it back for his sake. Though bitches stay pissing you off. Some things are so clearly flirtatious and should not be said. Originally you had believed that every woman had a good sense of right and wrong, but this girl Elektra didn’t seem to understand. And on that note, no matter how dramatic it may have been; you took Rhea’s hand and stormed out of the room together. You slammed the door to the point it rattled on the hinges. 

From inside the room, everyone’s eyes went dime-size, and Dominik whipped his head around to find you. Only for the realization to dawn on him that you were the one who left in a hurry. He sputtered out an excuse to leave quickly and threw open the door to follow after you. You had just made it around the corner of the long hallway, when you hear Dominik yelling after you. Rhea turns to you with wide eyes, “What are you gonna do?” she says in a hushed whisper. You cross your arms and stick your chin up, “Be petty and ignore him”. You hear his yells get closer and your exposure drops. Dominik skids around the corner and sighs a breath of relief when he sees you. He jogs up to you and spins you around by the waist to face him, you have to fight the urge to smile on instinct. “Why’d you leave?”, he commented and looked down at your angry face. 

You push his hands off of you, only to turn to Rhea and whisper in her ear. She raises her eyebrows at you but you return with a stern look. She then echoed what you said to her, to Dominik; “She said that she isn't talking to you”. Rhea was quick to turn around and walk away from you both. When she turned around Dominik put his hands around the sides of your stomach. “Mami”, he drawled and kissed your cheek sweetly. You turned away from the kiss and averted your gaze. Dominik was already getting so desperate for your attention. He tries to kiss your cheek but his lips chase after you when you move away. Now Dominik is practically pouting when he follows after you down the hallway and back into the very room you stormed out of. 

There everyone was sitting down and waiting for the group appearance in 2 hours. Normally the waiting game was already boring as is. But for Dominik, it felt like hell. When he’d sit beside you, you’d scooch away and smack his hands away when he tried to touch you. Committed to the end. He stared at you with crossed arms and listened to you talk to Finn with no issues. He was jealous of everyone else you talked to. Finn walked away to play darts with Finn and instantly Dominik was pressed against your side, whispering in your ear. “If you talk to me, we can go into the bathroom”, he said and you could practically feel his smirk against the side of your face. You turned to look at him with a sharp glare, only to turn away from him again with no words. He sunk into the couch with a groan, it was giving toddler. 

When it came time to go out into the stadium, Dominik pulled you to the side in the hallway on the way there. “Princesa, talk to me”, he murmured as he kissed the side of your neck. You pushed him back by the head and his shoulders dropped. Before you could turn around he pulled you back to him, “Baby what did I do?” he breathed. Only to be ignored once again. It could probably be read on Dominik’s face how annoyed and frustrated he was getting. He was used to talking and hugging you anytime you had been around. But all his questions were answered when a clip from earlier came up on the big screen. They aired your pissed-off expression while he was paying attention to Santo’s group. The light switch went off in his head when he looked over to you and the disgusted look on your face at rewatching it. 

Therefore when you all walked back and out of the eyes of thousands, he really gave you no choice when it came to pulling you into an empty room. He took you into the room and closed the door. Then instantly took your hands in his, and sunk to his knees in front of you. He looked up at you and began to apologize, “I’m sorry mami. I should’ve kicked them all out when she did that, but I was trying to make a connection for The Judgment Day. That’s no excuse though, I’ll do better. You’re my one and only mi amor” he enunciated. The apology was perfect, he knew what he did wrong and him being on his knees surely did help. You stay quiet for a minute and Dominik’s face drops, “Mami you're killing me here” he murmured and put his head on your thighs. You put your hand in his hair so he would look up, “I think that was the best apology yet” you remark with a smile. He pops up off the floor and kisses you to make up for all the ones you had ignored. 

[oikasugayama]

Helloooo! I love your posts and I was wondering if you could do one of your charts with the bsd men for when you’re anxious and if they’d be good at comforting you or if they’d try their best, tried but failed and if they’d be just straight up shit at it, hope you’ve had a nice day :3

I have a few similar requests for cheering you up when you're upset, so here are my general thoughts as someone who suffers from anxiety:

Fukuzawa has the wisdom to say something genuinely helpful and calming. He also helps you with mindful breathing and makes you some tea.

Nikolai, in one of his sentimental moods, teleports you to a calmer, more peaceful location where you can calm down and feel safer.

Junichiro tells you what helps him when he feels anxious, and he comforts you by relating and talking through the situation.

Chuuya doesn't really know how to help anxiety, but he asks questions and gets you to talk and work through what's bothering you. Oda also does this but with more experience (I just noticed he's in the wrong spot, he should be further left than Chuuya)

Ango can't do shit doesn't do shit. His own anxiety paralyzes him.

Kunikida technically tries to help but he ends up making you feel worse by telling you all the other shit you should be worrying about instead.

Atsushi really, really, really wants to help but the poor kid is the most anxious person you know so he ends up making himself anxious and then you feel bad for making him feel bad.

Mori surprisingly makes you feel a little better by just talking about other shit until you stop consciously thinking about what was bothering you. It's still in the background but not as intense.

Bram tells you not to worry and that all will be taken care of. To him he's not helping, but you believe that he really will take care of the situation on your behalf so it helps you to know someone is in your corner.

Poe offers you a new novel he was writing, so you get to play in a fictional world. It's the best distraction ever.

Sigma doesn't know what anxiety is so he has no idea how to help. He tells you you can use any of his resources and that's about it.

Dazai says he'll jump off the roof with you so you don't have to deal with it anymore, and it at least makes you giggle. He'll keep saying dumb shit and you don't doubt that he really thinks offing yourself is a solution, but you also don't take him seriously so the giggles help.

Ranpo says anxiety isn't real so just don't worry -_-

Mushitaro tells you some depressing ass story of a time he was very upset as well and it just fucking sucks.

Fyodor either tells you to look to the lord for strength (I am so not joking) or he finds a way to twist you being anxious into an argument about you not believing in his ability to protect you/have things go his way.

Akutagawa says he'll kill anyone or destroy anything that's upsetting you. You really don't dig the destruction and it makes you feel worse.

[maidragoste]

You're doing the right thing

Aemond Targaryen x Reader (Daughter of Rhaenyra)

Summary: After an argument with your brother, you need someone to tell you that you are doing the right things and that your husband is there to support you.

It is part of the universe of the queen and her husbands but I think it can be read independently.

I MISSED WRITING AEMOND… I still feel like the ending was strange, sorry, I have to get used to writing it again 😓😓

Second one shot of the 1k followers special. Thanks for all the support, it always makes me happy to answer your questions and comments. reblogs and likes are always appreciated 🥰🥰💕

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

"I hate you!"

Aemond heard Viserys's shout and the door was flung open. The boy barely looked at him and continued walking, taking steps. The man watched until Viserys disappeared from his sight as the boy turned into another hallway. A part of Aemond wanted to go find his nephew, drag him to you, and force him to apologize. But he knew that would only make the situation worse.

The prince entered the chambers. His anger against your brother increased when he saw your slumped posture and your palms hiding your face. It wasn't the first time he saw you like this. You often found yourself in that position ever since Viserys had returned to court.

When that family from Lys showed up saying they had Rhaenyra Targaryen's youngest son with them, he and Aegon thought it was a hoax but realized it wasn't fake when they saw how you and Egg seemed to have gotten back together. life when they met the child. The melancholic Egg finally seemed to act like a child and he couldn't stop smiling while you couldn't stop hugging your brothers. Having Viserys back with you brought joy to your life. But also headaches.

"He doesn't mean it," your husband said rushing to your side.

"My mother should be taking care of this," you muttered to yourself.

You feel frustrated because it was your duty as an older sister to take care of Viserys. But you felt that you were fulfilling the role of mother. Your mother should be the one arguing with him and try to make him understand the situation. She should be the one enduring Viserys' anger and his yelling. You were sure that she would do the same as you because Viserys is a baby. He shouldn't be married at such a young age and the thought that he already consummated his marriage made you want to vomit.

"Please, tell me I'm not going crazy and that I'm not wrong," you asked, uncovering your face so you could see Aemond.

"Make me a place," he asked so you got up from the chair and let him sit down and then settle you on his lap. You rested your head on his chest and you felt a little better listening to your husband's heartbeat, whenever you were too anxious listening to his heartbeat calmed you down, and how he hugged you around the waist with one arm

“Of course, you're not crazy,” he said as he used his other hand to gently stroke your hair. “You're doing the right thing. He can't stay married to that girl. Breaking up the marriage was the best"

"I forced her to drink moon tea," you admitted sadly, remembering how you made the guards hold Larra Rogare down while you gave her the tea to drink. Your brother was a child and a child shouldn't be having a baby, he shouldn't be a father so you did what you had to do to prevent it. Despite that, you weren't proud of the way you handled the situation, you wished the girl would have taken the tea willingly.

“Again you did the right thing” he kissed your forehead “Viserys is only 12 years old. He can't be a father,” Aemond said, feeling uncomfortable remembering how young his sister was when Jaehaerys and Jaehaera were born. Obviously, Viserys wouldn't be the one to bear his children but the thought of the child having to take care of a baby was so strange. Viserys had many things to learn before fulfilling the role of being a father.

“What if I'm taking his happiness away from him?” you asked in a whisper. You were sure of your decision. You couldn't allow your brother's marriage to continue or to continue sharing a bed. You couldn't let that Lyx family take advantage of him. But you feared that by removing Larra Rogare from King's Landing you would bring unhappiness to your brother. You wanted to believe that eventually, he would get over it but you were afraid that he would end up just like Egg. You loved Egg with all your soul but he had hard days where you couldn't get him out of his bed, days when he seemed lost in himself and you had to fight to feed or clean him. You didn't know if you would be able to bear seeing your two little brothers like this.

"What do you mean?" he asked confused.

"He says that he loves her and that I'm taking her happiness away from him," you said putting aside the insults and nasty comments about you and your husbands that Viserys made in the discussion.

"He thinks he loves her because he was held captive with her family," Aemond said with a frown.

You remained silent, you had said the same words to Viserys and he replied that in case you were not in love with your husbands either because her family held you captive. But it was different. You had fallen in love with Aemond before the war, and he did not marry you just for power. You secretly got married without knowing that there would soon be a war. The Rogare took advantage of a child that no one was looking for because everyone believed him dead. Your situation with Aemond and Aegon was nothing like that. They didn't take advantage of you.

"I know. I told him"

“Listen to me, he will grow up and in time he will realize that you were right. Give him time ”Aemond promised, kissing you now on the cheek, managing to get a small smile out of you“ When he grows up and marries a girl his age who really loves him, he will thank you on his knees ”

"Viserys will never do that" you rolled your eyes in amusement at your husband's exaggeration. Aemond was not one to exaggerate. You knew he was just doing it in an attempt to amuse you and you were very appreciative of that. "He is too proud"

As soon as you finished saying those words, the door was flung open. You were instantly up from Aemond's lap as Egg and Viserys entered. You ran to them when you saw that Viserys's cheek was red, with the clear mark of a hand. Soon your hands were on Viserys's face, carefully lifting his chin for more blows.

"What happened?" you asked concerned.

Aemond already knew what happened, you were so aware of Viserys's injury that you didn't notice how Egg was looking at Viserys with a cold fury. It wasn't normal to see the boy angry and when he was generally it was because someone had disrespected you (which didn't happen often because you're the queen and only an idiot would dare insult you). Aemond stopped himself from smiling. There was a reason Egg was the best he liked out of your brothers.

"Viserys came to apologize," Aegon said seriously.

"Aegon!" you said horrified realizing that he was responsible for the mark on your other brother's face “Don't do that again. Whatever problems Viserys and I have will be resolved without the need for violent intervention,” you declared, scowling at Aegon.

"He was being an idiot to you and he needed to realize it," your brother answered, crossing his arms and looking at Viserys with a raised eyebrow. Still waiting for him to apologize to you.

"I'm sorry," Viserys murmured.

You sighed before catching them both in a hug. "I don't want this to happen again, don't fight over me," you asked as you stroked Aegon's hair.

Aemond watched feeling satisfied because no matter what happened he knew that Egg would always defend you and he could always count on him to make Viserys think again. Aemond just wanted to see you happy and your brothers were a big part of happiness along with your children.

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[iouinotes]

Dark night, sweet lips | Alex Walter

pairing: Alex Walter x female!reader

show: My life with the Walter boys

warnings: smut, kissing, arguments (between Cole and Alex)

summary: Alex is arguing with Cole and you´re trying to make his evening better afterwards.

authors note: An anonymous person asked if I could write a scenario where the reader and Alex have (angry) sex in the car. I converted it a bit, hope it's still ok! It has taken me so long to finish writing this ff and I am relieved to finally be able to publish it…

Alex is probably the sweetest soul to walk this earth. For me, he is the most beautiful ray of sunshine, the brightest star and every spark of light that dispels the darkness.

He is my first boyfriend, but I feel it every time he smiles at me, that I will never want another man this close by my side. He is the second half of my longing soul.

The two years we have been together were the best of my life. I know that it is so often said that "love blinds you" and that the greatest heroes fell victim to love, fell so incredibly hard for it.

My love for him still blinds me every day, but I don't regret a single second of it.

He doesn't give me any reason to regret us, not when he does everything to make me happy.

He buys me my favorite sweets, gifts me books with the phrase "I thought you might like it", he kisses my forehead when I have a headache. And I just need to be quiet for a while too long and he will make me laugh until every bad thought inside my head has disappered. He cuddles me, watches movies with me, that make me cry, just to hold me in his arms and whisper to me, how much he loves me, during the credits.

Maybe some people will say it's too good to be true. That there has to be something to break through his perfect facade.

And actually there is something.

He breaks down when his feelings are hurt. If it happens, there's nothing I wouldn't do to see him happy again.

Just like now.

The reason for his anger is Cole. I know how much Alex loves his family and that deep in his heart, he sees Cole as a role model. Even if they fight each other over every little thing and throw words at each other, that will never be spoken of again.

While the first three hours of the family dinner went well, there was of course a point, that caused the good mood to change for the worse.

"Just because you didn't make it, I should skip college too? You're such an asshole, Cole." Alex's angry voice leaves an awkward silence, but only until the blond brother answers.

"I'm the asshole? I'm not leaving my family and travel to the other side of the planet!" When I meet Kathrine's gaze, I can see the desperation hidden in her eyes.

"Oxford isn't that far away, you shitty-" But his sentence is interrupted when George suddenly stands up.

"Boys, please be nice to each other! The evening was pleasant until now, stop acting like nine year olds." George's voice echoes in the room and despite the protests of the actual children, who are this age, the request doesn't help to stop the fight.

I usually stay out of the arguments, that the two brothers often have and Jackie normally does the same.

But this time we both look at each other and notice how much more tense the situation is becoming. And that every wrong word would only make their relationship worse.

"Cole, let's go upstairs. I think I left my history book with you." Her stern voice is the only thing that catches Cole's attention and when he turns his angry gaze to her, he seems conflicted of his next actions.

I also step in and gently put my arm around my boyfriend's, putting my lips close to his ear.

"Let's step outside for a moment, please." Alex's anger is also still clearly visible, but when his parents also get up to try to intervene, I manage to successfully pull Alex away from the drama.

His angry gaze softens slightly when he finally looks at me.

As we step out the front door into the cold night air and I close the door quietly behind me, Alex's unhappy voice immediately echoes trough the silence.

"He's such an idiot! Just because he couldn't go to college, he has to ruin it for me too. He's so selfish." I notice goosebumps spreading across my skin and only now realize, that I've forgotten my jacket. But I try do order my thoughts by crossing my arms over my chest, focusing on the boy in front of me.

"Alex, I know how upset you are with him right now. But he's just hurt, that his chance to leave this city and go off to college is gone. You know exactly how much the loss of football still affects him." I try to be reasonable, even though Cole's rude words about Alex's decision to go to college, makes me angry too.

"You don't understand, he said I was wasting our parents' money just to run away with it! You didn't see my mother's look when he said that." A sad feeling clinges to my heart, seeing him in such pain. I walk closer to him, gently holding his face in my hands and trying to meet his gaze.

His eyes, full of anger and despair, stare into my soul. I want to take away any sorrow from him.

"Alex, your parents know how much you love them. And that you would never do something like that. It is your future, your education and also your chance to change your life. They know how important this decision is, how important college is to you. Cole just can't handle it properly right now."

He sighs, his eyes briefly look at the dark, starry sky until the next moment, where he places his hands on mine and a small smile creeps onto his lips.

"You are wonderful, you know that? You are my heart and my mind, all combined. What would I do without you?" His words melt a part of my heart, which already belongs to him and I focus my gaze for a second too long on his lips.

As a cold breeze hits our bodies, I shiver slightly and faster than I can register, he strips off his jacket and holds it in front of me, so I can put it on.

As I slide into the sleeves and mumble a small "thank you", he quickly pulls me back to him. Wrapping his arms around my waist.

His eyes sparkle like a thousand stars.

“I just want to be alone with you right now. No arguments, nothing but you and me.” His whispering voice interrupts my many thoughts.

As I'm about to answer, a loud knock sounds behind us and I suddenly see his little brother making ridiculous faces. Laughing, I notice Alex's frustrated expression and hear him muttering under his breath.

But when I look behind him, I see the blue familiar car, leaning against the barn and an idea forms in my head. I point with my hand in this direction and confused he raises his eyebrows at me.

"What's on your mind, darling?"

Smiling as he keeps his gaze on me, I slowly drag him down the stairs by his hand. The warmth he radiates, makes me never want to let go of him again.

"Just you. Only ever you."

When we are just a step away from the car, I push some strands of hair out of my face and turn my back to him.

Waiting for him.

"Now we can be silent, if you want." He smiles at me, I see it in the corner of my eye, until he finally wraps his arms around my waist and together we walk to the car. Leaning my back against it and facing him, we laugh.

"Maybe I want to fill in the silence." I raise my eyebrows, smiling at his words.

The metal is cool, Alex's body in front of me warm. His eyes watch every expression on my face until they finally move to my blue dress. Which moves gently in the wind.

“You look wonderful tonight, so beautiful. My girl, more radiant than the night sky." His face gets closer and closer, until I feel his breath on my face.

How beautiful he looks today, black shirt, tight pants and disheveled hair. These lips that are as inviting as the look he gives me.

I feel myself trying harder and harder to breathe, he has this effect on me.

As he leans closer to me and places his hand on my cheek, I close my eyes.

He slowly leans in and captures my lips in a sweet kiss, my fingers tangle in his hair.

His hands are not idle either, they stroke the sides of my hips and grip the light blue material of my dress. Pressing myself closer to his warm body, I have to suppress a shudder.

His lips press harder against mine, I feel my heart beating so fast. My chest feeling so warm, like a sun exploded inside me.

Then his tongue strokes my bottom lip and as I open my mouth, he slides his tongue inside of it, gently pushing me against the car now.

Without being able to stop it, a soft moan escapes me, his hand that is on the back of my head moves to my chin as he pulls away from me.

I take a breathless breath, he lifts my chin slightly to meet his gaze and when I look into his eyes, I realize again how incredibly in love I am with him.

If he only knew what he was doing to me.

"Maybe we should go back inside now." Such a gentleman, always so accommodating. His thumb strokes my heated cheek and I swallow loudly as his eyes return to my lips despite his words.

"What if I don't want us to go in yet?" His eyes now look into mine, confusion swirling in his irises.

“Then what do you want, pretty?" I lean close to him, searching his gaze and breathe a single word at him.

"You." His eyes widen and when his mouth opens in surprise, I lower my hands to push his jacket off my shoulders.

His gaze doesn't leave me. I see nervousness decorating his handsome face.

"What, here? Now? But, someone might see us-" I place my finger on his lips, pulling my hand down until I intertwine mine with his.

"Then open the door." I see him swallow and as the jacket hits the ground, he seems to come back to life.

Nodding, he seems to compose himself, rummages in his trouser pocket and, luckily, pulls out the key.

As the lock is turned, he opens the door for me and I smile softly as I sit in the back seat.

As he joins me and closes the door, darkness surrounds us. As soon as his hands find my body, my heart pounds loudly.

I silently wonder if he can hear my heartbeat.

"Won't the others be curious, if we're gone too long?" My hand moves up his thigh, gently pressing on the bulge that's forming in his pants.

“Then hurry up." I pull his hand to the straps of my dress, giving him time to trace small patterns into my skin.

It's not our first time, but definitely a primary one, to be intimate somewhere else other than our beds.

"Are you sure? I don't have a condom with me." I slowly push him against the back seat and sit on his lap. His hands quickly find my waist and I wrap my arms around his shoulders as I answer him breathless.

"Check my pocket." When he tries to contradict me, he stops as soon as he pulls a small bag out of the pocket of my dress.

"You're amazing, how-" but when my lips meet his, he has to swallow at my next sentence.

"I love your voice Alex, but I would love it even more if you would whisper dirty things into my ear, instead of asking why I carry a condom with me, which is obvious for many reasons. Now, please touch me." My whiny voice is enough to finally get him to move.

His hands wander under my dress and stroke the bare skin of my thighs, I press my mouth against his neck and leave kisses there.

I feel his heart racing beneath my hands as his fingers find my underwear.

"Can I-" I nod in frustration and pull his shirt over his head, his messy hair and the nervous look in his eyes making me squeeze my legs together.

"You look so good, Alex. So, so good, I need you inside me." As if he's finally deciphering the situation, a smile spreads across his face and when his hands stop moving, I want to protest.

"Shhh, I want to look at you first." I pull my lip between my teeth and feel his fingers touching my lower lip, sliding over it.

"You can look at me, while you fuck me." The shocked look in his eyes makes me pause for a moment, but then I slowly raise my hand.

Confused, he waits for my next move and when I take his hand into mine and push his thumb into my mouth, I swirl my tongue around it.

I keep my eyes on him. His fascinated expression makes my heart skip a beat.

After a few seconds he pulls his fingers out of my mouth again, I lean in further to whisper to him.

"Stretch me, please. I need something inside me." It takes him a moment to register my words and when he does, his fingers trail anlong my body. Letting the wetness wander down my arm until his hand disappears under my dress.

I have to inhale sharply when his thumb strokes my clothed core and I have to stop myself from begging him to finally do something.

When I turn my gaze to him, he is already looking at me.

As his fingers push my underwear to the side, collecting my wetness, a moan escapes my lips.

"Please-" Then his finger slowly sinks into me, I want so much more of him. The sound is dirty as his finger slides into me so easily.

"Always so polite, have you been this wet all evening? Or does my hand make you feel that good?" I nod quickly, wanting to tell him I need more. But before I can open my mouth, he lowers a second finger into me and my eyes close in pleasure.

My mouth opens slightly, a tremor running through my body as his lips meet my skin.

My cheek, my neck, then my collarbones and finally across the fabric to my chest. I put my hand on his hair, tugging at the strands as my head spins.

When he looks into my eyes, the look so sweet and mischievous at the same time, I could cum on the spot at the sight of him.

Why does this boy have to have freckles too? Shit, you'll be the death of me.

"Can you hurry up? I want-" When his fingers hit the special spot inside me, I tighten around his hand. I feel my eyebrows knit together in frustration.

"What do you want, pretty one? I thought you wanted my fingers. You have them." As I lean closer to him so we are face to face, I kiss my way down his chest.

When I look up at him, his lips part slightly.

"I'll give you some motivation to figure it out then." His fingers pull out of me, but before it annoys me too much, I lower myself to the floor and wrap my hands around his waistband.

I kiss the fabric, letting my hands roam over his stomach. I see his hands trying to hold onto the leather.

Then I break away from him and quickly help get rid of his pants, pulling down his boxer shorts as well. A short breath escapes his lips, as the cold air hits his exposed skin.

"Do you really want to-" As soon as I put my hand around his cock, he stutters.

I twist my wrist around his cock, collecting the precum at the tip, starting to move my hand up and down. His brows furrows and he struggles to keep his eyes open.

Then, without warning him, I gently wrap my lips around his head, sucking lightly as I swirl my tongue around him.

His head hits the back of the car with a grunt, his hand quickly finding its way into my hair.

I slowly sink my mouth lower, hollowing out my mouth as his loud breathing rings in the silence. He chews his lip with his teeth, then he finally gathes his strength to look at me with lustful eyes.

It only takes a few movements of my tongue for his grip on my hair to tighten.

When I realize he's about to cum, I pull my head back. When I look up at him I see his flushed cheeks.

"Why did you stop?" His lazy eyes look into mine and as his hand cups my cheek to hold my face, I feel myself dripping.

This sight, me on my knees in front of him, him with his chest heaving rapidly and his eyes wide open - he looks like an angel.

Well, a naughty angel.

I smile sweetly at him, his eyes almost automatically go to my mouth. I know how much he wants my lips around him again, but when I swing my legs over his lap, he realizes my intentions.

"Take off my clothes." He doesn't need to be told twice.

His hand wraps around my dress at my waist and when he looks at every part of my skin exposed to him, he pulls my dress up.

As I raise my arms, he helps me to take it off. Now I'm sitting only in my underwear in front of him. His hand moves over my breasts, caressing the lace bra, my sensitive nipple and I shiver as the cold air hits me.

He grins at me as his left hand finds the clip on my bra and he opens it with a click. His fingers slowly stroke my arms, goosebumps appear as he pulls the straps from my shoulders and takes off my bra.

As he maintains eye contact with me, he leans forward, I hold my hand to the back of his head as he swirls a nipple with his tongue.

I close my eyes as the feeling intensifies, his one hand resting on my hip while the other hand cups my breast. Without noticing, I lower myself onto his thighs. Trying to put pressure on my core.

But he just tightens his grip around my waist, pausing the movement as he pulls away from my chest and his fingers stroke over my stomach.

Anticipation builds in my stomach as his right hand wraps around the material of my underwear. As I lift my hips, he slowly slides the material down my legs.

As I lower myself again, his hand moves around my thighs. Our heated skin meets when there is no longer any material separating us.

As our hands connect, he brings mine closer to his mouth. Kisses the skin and makes a smile appear on my lips.

"Ready?" His quiet voice makes me nod.

His hand wraps around my waist, helping me lift myself up as he directs his cock at my entrance and we both let out a loud sigh, when we meet.

I pull my arms around his shoulders, cupping both of my hands around his face as I lower myself further onto him.

The tugging hurts slightly, but it's pleasant as he leans in, stealing my attention as he places his lips on mine.

The kiss is a mixture of our breathing, love and pleasure.

The heat that arises between us warms up the car. I see the windows fogging up out of the corner of my eye.

When my hips are right on his own, he stretches me out so much, that I feel him all the way into my stomach.

His sweet lips brush the corners of my mouth, my cheek. His hand goes around my back, trying to give me time to get used to him.

"Do you feel good?" As I rock against him and he's moaning in respone, I laugh against his skin.

"Does this answer your question?" The look he gives me, leaves me out of breath.

"God, you´re amazing." I smile to myself, slowly lowering myself back onto him. His eyes follow my movements, as his lips settle between the valley of my chest.

His breath is warm against my skin, I almost want to close my eyes, but decide against it when I meet his attentive gaze.

When I finally move, I let out a shaky breath. I need a moment to savor the feeling. To savor being so close to him.

"Do you need help, beautiful?" I nod slightly, feeling his hands wrap around my waist and helping to lift me up.

As soon as I lower myself, I murmur his name like a prayer.

"Alex-" A groan escapes me.

"I know, beautiful. You're doing so good." My hands roam from his shoulders over his bare chest, over the heated skin. As my fingers wrap around his neck to rest my forehead against his, he lifts his hips.

His hands press into my skin, surely leaving a mark for the next day, but his mumbled words draw all attention away.

The sight of his freckles look like a gorgeous work of art.

"You like that? If everyone could see you? Fuck-" He takes a sharp breath as I start moving faster. His question makes my stomach tingle.

"I just want you to see me." His mouth twists into a smile and I lower myself to steal a kiss.

"I only want you too." His lips feel warm aginst mine. His tongue traces my bottom lip and as my thighs shake, his hands roaming my back.

“Do you want to swap?” Out of breath, I just nod, wanting to finally come.

The next second, I'm lying in the back seat, a laugh escaping me as his mouth hovers over my stomach.

He leaves dizzying kisses there, my fingers stroking his wet hair. For that moment as we look at each other, there is only us.

Then he slowly kisses his way down my thighs, across my stomach, up to my chest and finally hovers over my face.

He supports himself on the armrest while my fingers stroke his cheek. As he enters me again, my eyes squeeze shut in pleasure and my mouth hangs open.

I feel his grin in the darkness.

"Stop doing that." My voice sounds slightly embarrassed between us, but a smile still creeps onto my lips at his satisfaction.

"What? I just want to make my girl feel good." I wrap my legs around his waist, connecting our bodies even closer.

"You´re so beautiful, you know that? I could stare at you all day and it still wouldn´t be enough." His hip movements are so deep, that I can feel him in my stomach.

His hands wander over every part of my body that is spread out in front of him. My mouth opens in pleasure as I feel my climax approaching.

“I want to come so bad, please- Alex, please let me come.” His mouth settles on my collarbones, leaving marks, and all I can do is moan, unable to care.

"You deserve it, you've been so good to me. Let go, you can." It's always these moments, his whispering voice, his seductive, sweet words and that look in his eyes. It's as if the world stops the moment I reach my climax with him.

The thought is the last thing I need and as his hand wraps lovingly around my cheek and he gives me a sweet kiss on the lips, I see white.

I feel so good, only hearing in the background as he lets out a long moan and comes inside me with one last thrust. I notice how he lets his weight rest lightly on me, before he grips my hips and swaps our positions.

A slight moan leaves me as he pulls out of me and with my last remaining strength, I lay my head on his heated chest. Our breaths synchronize perfectly in the next seconds and I feel deeply lovestruck.

“I love you.” His fingers stroke my temples, brushing individual, sweaty strands from my face.

“I love you more.” How wonderful these three words sound, when they are said by him.

As we lie together in the dark and the bright stars shine down on us, there is nothing more beautiful than this moment.

Well, maybe him.