#also imagine the reaction from the rest of the bat-family

[tastycitrus]

i need an elseworlds story for the batgirls where steph becomes a blue lantern and cass gets the power of shazam. it'd be cool to see the team-up, and also really funny if it happens in a world that's otherwise the same as canon. two hydrogen bombs vs a city of coughing babies (gotham's rogues)

[bet-on-me-13]

Danny is the Crazy Old Man™️ of Gotham

So, the events of Danny Phantom happened decades ago

Like, Phantom Planet was one of the first instances of Superheroes in HISTORY. Early 1900's, just the Fentons were Insanely Ahead of their Time!

Danny is still a Halfa, but has allowed himself to grow old and live his best life before fully dying so he can accept his Throne in the Infinite Realms. He decides to experience Life in the fullest way possible, partying, drinking, making long lasting friendships that shape the lives of everybody he meets, all that!

Eventually, Danny's Party Life leads him to Gotham. And this place is just amazing!

It has all the comforts of Home, with so much more! He can Party! He can Fight! He can do anything he wants and nobody bats an eye, because a crazy old man getting into a fistfight in the middle of the road is just another Tuesday for Gotham!

He decides to spend the rest of his Mortal Life there. And this is still Early On in the DC Timeline, like, Batman Year 1 is happening Right Now.

He hangs around, befriends the local Homeless Population, and mostly just has the time of his Life! And he takes up the stereotypical Homeless Old Man look because why fight it? That's literally what he's going for!

He also unintentionally sets up a bunch of future events

He teaches Kid!Jason on his to steal Tires as repayment for driving off some muggers with a Baseball Bat (honestly he was looking forward to being mugged, it's a new experience after all)

He pulls Kid!Tim into an Alley after Tim gets caught out at night and gets chased by some Punks. He hides Tim behind a Dumpster and tricks the Punks into mugging him instead (Yay! He finally got mugged!)

He becomes kind of well known as the Old Man who wants to experience everything before he dies. He says as much too, not like he really has a reason to hide it. He just tells people "I want to live my life to the fullest, it don't matter if I live 10 more years or 10 more minutes, I'm gonna experience every second of it!"

He once walked into a Cloud of Fear Gas to see what it was like. Later he said it was a 6/10. "Not the worst thing I've had injected into my body!" He says with no Context.

He traded places with a Hostage during an active Crime Scene because he wanted to know what it's like.

He was once dared to take Batmans Utility Belt by another Homeless Guy as a joke, so he walked up to Batman later that night in full view of everybody else and just asked for his Belt. He gives up after a few minutes, and one guy asked "Why not fight him for it? It's an experience after all.". Danny replys "Nah, I've fought Vigilantes before. It was fun though, gotta say!"

...

This got away from me, but all this to say: Imagine the Bat Families Reaction when they find out "Crazy Old Danny" is PHANTOM. You know, THE FIRST SUPERHERO!

I imagine Constantine is having a stroll though Gotham after finishing up some business with Bruce, and just bumps into a homeless guy by accident.

Later that night:

Batman: Constantine, Why are you calling? Is it to do with the-

Constantine: Why the fuck is there a Homeless God in your City?

Batman: Wait wha-

...

Or imagine they know before Constantine meets him, and it goes instead like this

Constantine: Why the fuck is there a Homeless God in your City?!

Batman: You mean Old Man Danny? He's just a homeless guy? What do you mean?

Constantine: I swear on what's left of my Soul, that is a God.

Batman, a little shit: I don't think so, I would know (fully knows)

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hi, I’m not sure if you still write for the batfamily but can I request them and a sick teen reader, who’s also in the batfamily and a vigilante with them and they get sick but refuse to rest

Batfam with a sick teen reader

Headcanons

I like to imagine the reader is the best and worst part of different batfam members combined into one person. Meaning he gives the family heart attacks on the regular.

You weren’t the oldest, or the youngest, member of the batfam. You were only a few months younger than Tim, making you older than Damian but younger than the others.

You were the 13th child of a great warrior who had built a group of expert warriors, think like the league of assassins but smaller and more lowkey.

Because of your tough upbringing, and your siblings always outshining you, you have always felt a deep need to show no weakness and appear stronger than you are.

This means you work extremely hard to be a great member of the batclan, going by the name Red Bat. It had started out as a joke, as you wore a helmet that appeared to have the same ears as Bruces, but was red in color. It hadn’t been on purpose, but you had come to like the name.

The family are impressed with how hard you work, though it also worries them because you work yourself to the bone sometimes, never accepting failure and punishing yourself when you don’t do good, by your own standards.

In the beginning when you joined the family, you had some struggles with Damian, Tim, and Duke, as they are the closest to your age, and you are so used to having to claw yourself into the light, to get any positive attention from a father figure or to stand out.

So, it caused some tension, but after you started settling in and you all started bonding, it went away for the most part. A small part of your soul, deeply hidden inside, still feels like you aren’t good enough and never will be, and there might be some faint jealousy of the rest of the family. It doesn’t get in the way of you loving them all though.

Bettering your relationship with the family hasn’t slowed down your excessive training though, or how roughly you treat yourself. Cass ends up having to just resort hugging you until you allow yourself to relax. Damian will train with you, but does it with the purpose of tiring you out without causing any damage. If anybody knows what it’s like, it’s Cass and Damian, so they never blame you.

Because of your extremely high standards for yourself, you never slow down, even when you are sick. You’ll go as long as possible, hiding your sickness from the family until you literally can’t anymore.

And even then, you keep pushing yourself and brushing off their concern. The only one who seemingly can pull you away from your spiral with no struggle, is Alfed, because its Alfred, and no one goes against Alfred.

The rest of the family would try different ways to make you rest.

Dick would wrap a weighted blanket around you when you are at the batcomputer, and lean against you as you work, just telling you about his day. It works sometimes, because you always feel safe around him, so if you are already exhausted and drowsy, it can put you out.

Jason hovers in the background too, maybe brings you some of your favorite food from downtown, sits nearby. If you are really sick, he will scold you in the way he does, prodding at you till you go to bed to rest. If its really bad, he will throw you over his shoulder and force you to rest.

Cass is always the first to spot when you are sick, and always gives you small, disappointed frowns when you push yourself too hard, and her reaction probably makes your heart ache the most. She pulls you from your work to watch a movie with her, making sure to wrap you in blankets and keep you close until you fall asleep.

Tim is the type to sit beside you when you work, since hes not the pinnacle of health most times too. Might use it as a “if you go rest, I will to” to force you to go, since you love your brother very much and want him to get better too. The rest of the fam regularly finds you guys passed out over a case together.

Duke hovers too, brings you medicine and will talk to you about his day to keep you distracted from whatever is keeping you awake and active. He understands pushing yourself even when you are sick, and knows that forcing you to go rest wont help, so he tries to subtly push you in that direction instead of pushing you.

Damian scowls nearby, probably gives you some speech about how being sick will make you less lethal and weaker, and then you can’t do your job as Red Bat at all. Resorts to dumping different batclan animals on you until you have no choice. You end up laying against batcow, Jerry the turkey beside you, Alfred the cat in your lap, Titus and Ace laying around you, you get the point.

Bruce looms and hovers, since he’s not the best with words. Its easy to tell he’s worried when he keeps pacing near you or keeping an eye on you. Will matter of factly tell you that you need rest, brings you a blanket or other comfort items.

If you try to run off on patrol, Barbara is quick to tell the others what you are up too. If you are really sick, they’ll whisk you back to the manor kicking and screaming if they have too, as being extremely sick can put you at risk.

If its milder, they’ll just hover nearby and keep a close eye on you and your physical state.

The first few times it happened, it caused a huge argument because of your inability to let yourself rest, and because that sick twisted part inside you was sure it was because they saw you as weak or a burden, like your first siblings did, since there was no excuse for weakness in your first family.

It results in them, and especially Bruce because he’s the one you look up to the most, having to sit down with you and explain that there’s nothing wrong with being sick or so called “weak”, and that its okay to take a rest when you need it.

It also results in the rest of the family having to lead by example, because you’ll always snip and point out how they’re not resting when they are sick, so why should you.

Alfred thanks the circumstances and that the family all love each other so much, he’s been trying to get the batfam try to take breaks and rest when sick for years, and now that they must be someone you can look up too, they’ll actually do it.

It becomes kind of a game to force the sick family members to rest, lotsa blanket burritos and the sick person always ends up with Alfred the cat curled up on their chest purring somehow. Its especially fun when its Bruce that’s sick, because you all have to hound him an extra amount for him to take care of himself.

[puppetwoman17]

I wonder what the batfam's reactions would be if the joker escapes wherever they sent him to, finds Tim on patrol and was like "Long time no see JJ," and then going on about how he should come home with him back to arkham and he'll help him "recover" and are trying to get to Tim's location as fast as they can while listening in on comms?

This was actually a scenario I thought of the day I found out about JJ. I feel like after what happened, Tim would do the opposite of what Jason would and has done. Instead of going to find the Joker, he would stay as far away from him or even his goons as possible. It would be like the third Robin and the Joker had no history, nothing to tie them together(which probably made Jason angry at some point).

So when he breaks out of Arkham(AGAIN, jesus), Tim, Babs, and Bruce don’t waste a minute before bringing up that Tim has another case he has to work on that is of the “upmost importance”. It’s actually just a 12 year old homicide cold case that he solved a month ago but no one has to know that. Jim knows to sweep that under the rug when RR comes by with the same exact evidence he came with a month ago.

But Lady Luck has never been on Tim’s side. The rest of the bats quickly lose track of the Joker. Babs manages to find him, but by that point, it’s too late.

Joker finds him. And he recognizes him. Underneath the new name, costume, and styled hair, Joker finds his “son”.

As you can imagine, he’s over the moon. But he’s also just as angry.

“Junior! You don’t call, you don’t text, you don’t send out an email. What’s a pop got to do to get their son to notice them?”

“I’m not your son.”

“Not with that hair you’re not. Your skin’s not how I left it at all! And what happened to that beautiful smile of yours? Did the bat ruin that too?”

Tim doesn’t take jabs about his smile well. This is why. And it gets under his skin that even after using so much foundation and concealer, the Joker can still see the remnants of smile lines along his cheeks.

“You’ve been avoiding me, Junior. You know papa doesn’t like being ignored.“

“You’re not my dad.”

“Ha! Who is then? Certainly not the old bat. Anyhow, this isn’t about him. It’s been so long, kiddo. Why don’t we stop by the old warehouse and have a chat. Maybe even pick up Mama while we’re at it.”

“Harley would rather die than go with you, and I’m not following you anywhere. Batman already has your location.”

That brushes the smile off the freak’s face. The expression he has on now is sickly reminiscent of how he was when he, Tim, and Harley played family years ago. It’s not a look he gives to other people. No one else has seen it, so they might think Tim a liar. But he can’t deny the parental disappointment in the man’s eyes.

“I know they don’t know.”

Now that. That really gets to him.

“None of your business.”

“It it, but you’re welcome to deny it. I believe it’s just the old bat, the beat up cop, and Ms. Gordon, correct? Not even the first Robin! Ha! I wonder what the second bird would think. Not to mention the girls! Oh! And we can’t forget about little old Signal.”

Tim doesn’t need him to tell him. He’s gone over the scenario so many times it drives him mad. What each of them would say. What he could do to make them think differently. What he would have to do if they found out. Where he could run to. It never gets easier.

Joker is trying to scare him. That’s the only conclusion he definitively has. And aside from his general psychotic tendencies, he genuinely believes he and Tim are family.

By the time Batman arrives with the GCPD, the Joker is tied and ready for extraction. But the villain’s smile is no less fear-inducing.

“You know I’m right, my boy,” he says as he’s take into the back of a truck.

“They’ll never look at you the same way again.”

It’s only when everything is over that Tim takes the time to look over his gear that he finds his mistake. One that the Joker knew about. One that he exploited.

When he shut off the comms, he didn’t shut them off. In his delirium over his past, instead of closing them off, he muted them. While he couldn’t hear any of their chatter, they definitely heard his. And he didn’t send Babs his acceptance to shut his comms off, something she couldn’t do without express permission.

So when he unmuted the comms, you can only imagine what he heard.

[hawkinsindiana]

i’m not gonna leave you here

ALMOST PARADISE: PART FOUR - CHAPTER NINE OF NINE

pairing: steve harrington x henderson!reader

word count: 4.8k

a/n: i have returned from the dead to drop this lil nugget of a final chapter. literally bat shit to think i have been writing this shit for FOUR YEARS! thank you to those of you who have continued to support my writing even through all the droughts. i definitely needed time to step back from tumblr so also a quick kiss to the few that sent me sweet asks checking up on me ily ily!!! writing this story has truly brought me such immense joy i feel ridiculously grateful to the ones that have decided to READ THE WHOLE FRICKING THING!!!! anyways..... thank you thank you thank you and i hope to see you for s5 >:)

masterlist

“What are you thinking about?”

Your voice filters into Steve’s mind, reaching him through the anxious worries he’s been so focused on beneath the reporter’s drawl on the television. The back of your index finger glides gently across the line of his jaw, helping to coax him away from what made him cast his gaze down towards his socks. His skin is smooth under your own, freshly shaved and moisturized to perfection.

Steve’s eyes shift to you, who’s comfortably tucked under the weight of his arm. Your irises are as warm and inviting as ever, quietly beckoning him to divulge. He grins lightly as the answer reaches the tip of his tongue.

“You.”

The only reason he’s so blunt is because he wants to see your reaction — a brilliant smile that fades into awe and pure love. He feels your body melt further against him as you try to play it off with a rather endearing roll of your eyes. Steve’s sure that some joke about him being a sap rattles around inside your pretty head, but it never comes to fruition. It must be the look on his face that keeps words from escaping you because once again, your gentle eyes silently plead with him.

He bites down on his lip before anxiously darting his gaze across the room; this is the last topic of conversation he wants to bring up, but it keeps shouting at him from the depths of his mind. Before Steve gets the chance to speak, you reach over to take his free hand between yours, lightly massaging his tired knuckles. The crease in his brow softens.

“When are you going back to the city? I know you weren’t supposed to leave for another week but…” 

Steve pauses like he’s carefully choosing his words. His hand, which you’ve dragged to your lap, shifts to intertwine a few of your fingers together. He swallows harshly, “I don’t know, maybe that’s… changed. I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to go sooner.”

It was this morning that Steve remembered what the initial plans for Spring Break were. Just over a week ago, you two had been excitedly swapping ideas about what to do with all of your free time. But now, he can barely remember what any of them were. The only thing that crosses his mind is the intense and gut-wrenching desire to keep you close, but simultaneously out of harm’s way.

You blink in surprise as a deep inhale is pulled into your lungs. In the wake of all the destruction your actions have caused, it’s hard to imagine leaving Hawkins without attempting to rectify what you’ve done. In comparison, your education seems like the least important thing in the world right now. But then again, who knows how long it could take to hunt down Vecna once more? 

He’s still out there… you can sense it, burrowed deep in your soul. It’s the same feeling that told you the Russian code was more than a transmission — a feeling that’s grown into more than intuition or anxiety, but rather the upsetting truth that you know intimately how the Upside Down works. There’s more to come and soon; when it does, you want it to be the last time. 

You’re tired. You want to rest. You feel like every ounce of courage you once had has left your body. You’re terrified to plan anything that could backfire again. But you want your family safe. You want Steve to be safe. These horrors have plagued you long enough. They’ve stolen so much of your life from you. 

You’re angry. 

It scares you, but you know that there won’t be a sense of closure until you watch the life leave Henry’s eyes — whether by your hand or someone else’s, you don’t particularly care. 

Are you willing to see this through to the very end? To do what it takes to get the life you crave?

“I don’t… I don’t think I can go, Steve,” You mutter, “At least not until this is over.”

Confirmation washes over Steve’s face — the slight lift of his brow and the sigh he expels says it all. As he cards his free hand through his hair, he speaks.

“Yeah, I was afraid you were gonna say that.”

Suddenly, you realize his reaction was not one of reassurance and relief, but rather disappointment.

Steve’s arm slides to the back of the couch as you sit up straighter. Your voice is a bit more stern, straddling the line between genuine confusion and vexation, “What, you’d rather have me leave?”

“No, no,” Steve replies immediately as his anger suddenly begins to churn. It’s not directed at you, no, but at the mere thought of having to watch you drive away from him. Selfishly, he wants you by his side at all times. He wants to turn to you for support whenever he needs or offer you his shoulder to cry on at a moment's notice. Whether it’s healthy or not, Steve cannot imagine himself without you. He needs you now.

But hurt is starting to cloud over your irises; the slightly cold and calculating look Steve knows will impale him through the heart if he doesn’t act fast to clear this up. Maybe a different approach would be best considering you both are so high strung at the moment. He shouldn’t have assumed that you’d want to leave right now — that much is clear.

Steve has begged you to leave Hawkins more than once; now it feels more like a matter of life and death.

He sighs and re-adjusts, moving from a laid-back posture to one of thought and concern. He wants to lean in closer even though you’ve shifted away, but decides to reach for one of your hands instead — you don’t recoil from his touch. Your gaze stays locked on his face, analyzing every micro expression so you can attempt to understand.

“God, of course I don’t want you to go, baby. I never want to be away from you ever again,” Steve begins softly, gently holding your hand between both of his, “I just…”

He stops again, recognizing that your face has slightly relaxed due to his tone and touch. Something in him withers knowing that his instinctual reaction and initial question prepared you for a fight he never wanted. 

And then that image and sensation flash through his mind again.

Your cold skin. The whites of your eyes. The weight of your limp body in his arms. Overwhelming grief — the kind he’s only read about in your books. Emptiness. Fear. Longing. Pure, unfiltered anger.

All of that was real. Steve didn’t know he could feel something so strongly. He never wants to experience anything as intense as those feelings for the rest of his life, unless it’s his love for you. That’s an exception he’s willing to overlook.

“I can’t do… that again.”

You see it too; the pain in his eyes that’s lingered since returning home. You’ve noticed it every time he looks at you, as if it’s the last time he’ll see your gentle smile. He’s touched your bare skin with such intention it’s addicting and branded kisses onto everywhere he can reach. The most beautiful words have fallen from his lips — how excited he is for all of this to be behind you, how lucky he feels to be a part of your future. 

You did this to him. Even if it couldn’t be helped, you still damaged him. For the first time, Steve Harrington has felt truly desired. You want him for more than just his body or his parents’ money. With you, he finally has a life in front of him; one that promises fulfillment and unabashed happiness. 

You understand his fear perfectly. You sigh too, your hard exterior cracking instantaneously.

Defeated, you nearly pout as you murmur, “And I’m not gonna leave you here, Stevie. I don’t care how long it takes.”

You don’t have to say anymore for him to accept this fate. If you’re willing to give up your education over this, something you and Steve have been discussing for years, then he knows you’re set in your choice. He understood how much it meant to you to leave Hawkins then, but now you’ve made the decision to stay and fight.

How could he have asked you to leave in the first place? It would hurt you just as much. With the phones still down, there’s no telling when he would get word to you about his or your brother’s safety. If there’s one thing Steve doesn’t want, it’s for you to be living with uncertainty as cruel as that.

“I know, I’m sorry,” He frowns as you shuffle closer again and relish in the warmth of his palm against your cheek, his fingers deftly tucking a few stray hairs behind your ear. How fortunate is he to have someone who’s unwilling to leave his side?

He continues as you turn your head to kiss his wrist, “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

You tut softly with forgiveness, despising the feeling of a disagreement no matter how small it is, “No, I understand why you did. I mean, all of this has been so…”

No other words come to mind, so you chuckle in disbelief instead; you’re relieved Steve’s frown quirks up at the sound, his hand dropping to clasp both of yours now. He loves the varying texture of your skin; he could get lost for hours exploring it, even though it’s already committed to memory.

“It makes sense why you’d want me to go, even if you don’t want me to.”

You’re glad Steve’s arms open up for you when you worm in closer still, now awkwardly pinned to his side; when you press your cheek to his shoulder, you can practically feel his love for you radiating like his warmth. The soft fabric of his sweater against your skin is an added comfort you can’t quite describe. How lucky are you to have someone as dedicated to your safety as Steve?

A smirk crawls across your lips as all four wandering hands finally settle somewhere in this embrace, “What a shame I feel much safer when I’m with you, hmm?”

It’s half-hearted sarcasm, of course; a playful jest that has Steve’s chest rumbling a bit in soft laughter, “Yeah, what a shame.”

He’s more uneasy than he was before.

—

If it weren’t for the plumes of smoke billowing up into the clouds, this would be the most gorgeous day of the year. Selfishly, a part of you wonders if there’s still a chance you and Steve could sneak off to the lake and drown in sunlight. On second thought, given your previous visit, maybe you aren’t willing to go swimming anytime soon.

It’s hard to confront the consequences of your failure. For many, this cataclysmic event was the final straw — dozens, if not hundreds, of families have continued to flee. As Steve drives through the suburbs, you watch a father frantically loading the trunk while the mother lifts their toddler into the car seat. On your street, there was a home left abandoned with the front door wide open. 

Continuing into town, the destruction grows more severe. The flames from a gas station have finally been contained. The diner you and Steve used to frequent has been reduced to crumbles, the neon sign shattered against the pavement. Your eyes linger on it a bit too long, heart aching that you’ll never get to return; Steve’s grip on your hand tightens.

As gut-wrenching and upsetting it is to see the carnage, nothing prepares you for what washes over you upon entering that hospital room.

A different type of guilt pools in your stomach — nausea that you’ve grown used to over the past few months. It’s unmistakable as the sight of sterile white plaster and bruised skin floods your vision.

“The doctors said it’s… pretty much a miracle that she survived,” Lucas says, continuing his explanation of that fateful night as he returns to Max’s side. His hands remove a book from his chair before sitting down — he must have been reading to her. More pain echoes in your chest.

You wish you could’ve visited sooner. When you received his call on the radio this morning, another wave of emotion made itself known. After everything, you didn’t make sure Lucas and Erica were safe. You didn’t bother to check on the others. All that mattered to you was if Steve was okay, if Dustin was. They’re not the only family you have in this fight anymore.

As Lucas goes into more detail about the events at Creel House, your brain grows cloudy from thought. The older they’ve gotten, the similarities between Lucas and Steve have made themselves more apparent; they’re fiercely loyal, unapologetically kind, gentle, and compassionate. But a striking similarity is their willingness to get bloodied and blue to protect the one they love.

Lucas has come to you many times over the course of the last couple years seeking advice over Max. Not only does he trust you and your opinion, but you and her also share many similarities. You both can be incredibly stand-off-ish and suspicious of others, but those that prove their worth are given a plethora of love and care in return. If Lucas asked you for help with his love life, he knew you’d never steer him wrong because you understand the one he’s tried to woo — whatever you worked worked every time. Well, except for the last time.

Steve knows it’s the reason why Max’s involvement in all of this chaos has been weighing so heavily on your conscience. In your mind, if you had done more to help her, Vecna never would’ve seen her as a viable target. He hates to think of the alternative, that the fourth victim might have been you instead, with guilt loud enough to beckon that monster closer. But one way or another, Steve nearly lost you. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to come to terms with that fact.

You can’t help but reflect on how close you were to a similar outcome. If Steve hadn’t reacted as quickly as he did, maybe you’d be in another room in this hospital, your love wrought with worry and fused to your side until you woke. Maybe your body would be enclosed in a wooden box and buried beneath a willow tree, an abundance of flowers curling around your headstone — peonies, probably. 

Your love is mirrored in theirs. But made clear is the fact that you and Steve have gotten lucky. You never thought you’d look at your life and consider any part of it to be more fortunate than someone else’s — a flaw you understand to be incredibly selfish and blind. You still have your twin flame, burning brightly in this room with you and a kind of warmth felt even with a lack of touch. 

The other pair has dimmed, one of them too weak to fight anymore.

You want to help again. You need to help again.

“Can you…” You whisper, wrapping your fingers around Steve’s arm as you pull yourself closer to him. You glance back to the Sinclair boy, noticing the desperate way he clutches the redhead’s hand. 

“Can you gimme a minute alone with him? Please?”

Concern immediately blossoms in Steve’s chest with your request. Knowing that your last attempt to support Lucas was ultimately in vain and a heavy burden on you, he’s not super keen at the idea. But Steve also knows you. You’ll find some way to help the boy either way, and he’d rather it be here in this room than during a moment of danger and desperation. Whatever it was you said to Max seemed to have helped her — maybe this will be different. Steve nods, remaining silent as he answers.

Clearing his throat, Steve turns to Erica and Dustin and gestures to the hall, pulling a couple of loose dollar bills from his pocket. He mutters something about the nearby vending machines and ushers the two of them out of the room, closing the door while flashing you a brief look. You’re not quite sure what he’s feeling, but you can’t imagine you’re particularly easy to read right now either. Between the pair of you, there’s enough compartmentalization happening to last a lifetime. But keeping a straight face in front of the others isn’t quieting the raging thoughts as well as you thought. Instead, you can feel them building — your fault your fault your fault.

As you sit in the chair beside Lucas, you can’t figure out where to begin. He doesn’t seem to blame this on you; if anything, he’s being too hard on himself. There wasn’t much more he could’ve done to try and keep Max safe, but you’re confident that’s not what he needs to hear right now.

“I, um… I almost didn’t make it back the other day.”

It takes a moment for Lucas to register your words. His eyes drift to you upon the realization, but you quiet his concerns before they ever make it out of his mouth, lips parting to speak.

“I’m fine,” You mutter. A lie, of course. The skin of your throat is still tender to the touch and there’s a roughness in your voice that hasn’t faded. If you think too hard, it feels like the tendrils have returned, crushing your esophagus more and more with each second. The fear kicks in again, until the face of your rescuer greets you out of the darkness.

“But Steve, he…” You pause, forcing yourself to avert your gaze from the boy because you see too much of your love in him. A younger version perhaps, a soft reflection in Lucas’ bruised eyes, but enough that your heart grows heavy once more. You shake your head gently, a wobbly breath falling from your lips.

“I’m only here because of him. I wouldn’t have survived if it weren’t for Steve. I don’t know what-”

You immediately stop yourself, refusing to consider the alternate outcome any further. You shove it away deep into the recesses of your mind. When you finally look to Lucas again, you don’t have to say anything else for him to understand what it is you’re trying to tell him. 

For a while now, Lucas has wanted what you and Steve have. Everything about the two of you… seems perfect. Even though he knows you haven’t always had good times, that doesn’t matter to him. He had hoped maybe Max would want that too.

But now?

Lucas nods silently, fully embracing the support you offer. There’s still hope. The road may be difficult, but he can’t let this be the end for them.

“She said she wasn’t ready.”

“Hm?”

“Max,” He clarifies sadly, his demeanor rapidly shifting to one of sorrow, “She said she wasn’t ready to die.”

Immeasurable grief swarms you. The air is drawn from your lungs as the hefty weight of his words burrows deeply into your soul. It’s the final nail in the coffin that solidifies your shame and remorse. You feel numb.

—

There’s a steady stream of people that filter into the school from the parking lot; it seems that you’re not the only group in Hawkins that felt inclined to help those affected by this disaster. Numerous boxes packed with all manner of clothing, toiletries, and other necessities line the walls and coat the tables. Resources are passed around to those who need them while the rest is organized to be distributed around town to multiple relief sites. Those that were displaced and can’t afford to leave rest on the various cots sprinkled throughout the gymnasium. It’s a bit overwhelming to say the least. 

After Steve’s recruited to fold donated clothes, one of the volunteers leads you away.

“How do you feel about being around kids?”

“I think I could handle that, yeah,” You say, forcing a somewhat warm smile to pull at your lips. She gestures towards a young girl, no older than six, fiercely clutching a well-loved stuffed elephant between her soot stained fingers. 

“Her house was destroyed, just torn right down the middle. We’re trying to find her parents,” The woman whispers, her hand touching your shoulder gently in gratitude, “But still nothing.”

You sigh, feeling your throat tighten, now able to put a face to all the destruction you and your friends weren’t able to stop. You approach the girl by asking if you can sit with her, to which she eventually nods at you with tired and exhausted eyes. When you introduce yourself and ask her for her name, she shifts a bit, “Erica.”

“Erica, huh?” You smile again, “I have a friend with that name. She’s pretty tough and strong.”

With your comment, the girl turns her head toward you; her skin’s coated with dirt and dust, hair a touch matted up. There’s a bit of blood on her forehead too.

“Is she like She-Ra?”

You can’t help but laugh a little at her reference. You pretend to think about it for a moment, even bringing your finger up to your chin to sell it further, “I think she’s more like Firefly. You know, from My Little Pony?”

Your answer brings a slight grin to her face; it simultaneously warms and breaks your heart. You put your hands down onto your knees, trying to remain as casual and maternal as possible, “What do you say we get you cleaned up? Would you like that?”

Erica nods before she grabs your now extended hand and uncurls herself from the plastic chair. As you start to walk forward, one hand wrapped up in yours and the other still tightly around her stuffed animal, she freezes unexpectedly. Her eyes are darting between the seas of people milling around, anxiously unable to focus on anything. You crouch down, meeting her eye line once again. 

“I get nervous around a lot of people sometimes, too. I can hold you… if you want.”

Erica nods quickly, reaching her arms up for you to lift her. It takes a bit of effort ao you don’t anger your back, but you manage to settle her onto your left hip.

The added closeness seems to comfort her as you continue forward, taking a moment to grab a spare plastic bag. She’s a bit harder to carry than you expected, but now’s not the time for you to complain. You wander through the tables, picking out anything that you might need to get her freshened up. The longer you walk, the more she begins to speak, telling you to grab certain items that she likes — a butterfly hair clip, some berry scented chapstick. You even make time to stop by the snacks to grab her something to eat; Vickie makes her a strawberry jam sandwich when Erica tells you she’s allergic to peanuts. She gobbles it up quickly, smearing some of the jelly onto her cheek, which you wipe it off with the back of your sleeve. Your smile grows more genuine the longer you spend with her.

Steve thinks he nearly has a heart attack when you eventually stride up to the clothing table, this small child latched tightly to your side. You look so at ease with her head resting against your chest, whispering little comments that manage to engage her amidst all the chaos. At a quick glance, this child could be your daughter. Her eyes have a similar hue to yours — even your noses are similar. His brain starts to go quite fuzzy the longer he spends watching the two of you together.

“What’s your favorite color?” You ask Erica as Steve hands you the small pair of folded sweatpants, underwear, and socks you point to. The girl hums for a second, adjusting her grip on her elephant, “Green.”

“Good choice. I like green too,” You answer, focused intently on her as you shift your arm to hoist her further up your side. Steve watches you with this kind of dumbly adoring look, lips pulled back in a small but optimistic smile as he gets lost in a daydream.

He sees flashes of you, curled up on the couch wrapped in blankets with your children — your children. Yours and his. He sees the smile that spreads over your face on their birthdays, the sadness in your eyes when one of them gets sick, the anger you feel when they mention they’ve been bullied at school. 

He sees the road-trip summers with your baby girl — little Marcie Harrington, maybe a younger sister too. He nearly swoons at the thought of your family taking in the sights at Mount Rushmore, the redwood forests, even the Finger Lakes. He imagines you wrangling your daughters in front of the Moab arches while he tries to figure out the damn timer on the camera; he ends up accidentally taking three pictures of himself before finally getting it to work. Then the two of you are splayed out in the sand on some beach while your children nap in the RV — you’re clad in that stupid red bikini you keep taunting him with, your warm and exposed skin practically irresistible. Steve looks at you fondly before leaning over to give you a big kiss under the Californian sun, so incredibly thankful for the life you’ve been able to build together.

“You got any green, Stevie?”

He blinks once, then once more; the first for snapping him back to reality and the second for the nickname. He clears his throat, trying desperately to forget about the blood that rises in his neck. He looks around for a moment, forcing the dream from his mind as he searches for something small enough to fit the girl in your arms. You watch him almost knowingly, like you could picture the same images behind your eyes.

Eventually, he finds a couple of options and holds them up for the girl to pick from; she’s made up her mind from the first one he shows her. Erica gasps, hand immediately shooting outwards to grab the small tie-dyed tee with wide eyes. The pink and green gradient twists and turns across the fabric, clearly enthralling to a child her age. 

Her enthusiasm takes you by surprise but it’s a welcome one; you chuckle a bit before speaking, “Oh, that’s a nice one. Good choice.”

As she puts the clothes into the bag, you smile across the table at Steve, effectively punching the air out of his lungs. You casually address him, “Thanks, baby.”

Trying to regain some of his composure, he winks at you as he starts refolding the other shirts, “Any time, ladies.”

Before you get a chance to reply, Erica’s desperately trying to wiggle free from your grasp. The moment she touches down onto the ground, she takes off in a full sprint and gets scooped up into the arms of a couple — you instantly understand this to be her mother and father. The girl looks like a perfect mixture of her parents, maybe more like her dad. It’s hard not to let their reunion warm your veins, the relief in all of their joyful sobs making your eyes a bit misty. You don’t particularly care that she left without any thanks, knowing that her and her family are back together is more than enough.

“You’re good at that.”

Your gaze moves back to Steve. In this light, his eyes are as soft and warm as liquid caramel. He rests a sweater on his shoulder — a gentle smile curls his lips. A bashful expression washes over your face as you feel blood pool in your cheeks, the underlying meaning of his words bringing back a hint of hope inside your chest. You can see your family too.

A flash of red breaks you from the comfort Steve’s attention brings; both of your faces drastically warp as you glance out the window, a very familiar feeling washing away any source of happiness. You find yourself frozen as you stare up at a rapidly moving cloud of smoke. It spreads, expanding large enough to cover the expanse of blue sky until none of it remains. Crowds begin to flock to windows, watching in awe while you and Steve join them, soon joined by Robin and Vickie. White particles begin to gently fall, earning a few shocked noises from the onlookers. You sigh as Steve’s hand finds yours, a silent solace; you both know what this is.

“An earthquake and snow in two days?” Vickie says in a moment of innocent disbelief.

The worst kind of dread rolls over you, the kind where you know that this is only the beginning. Everything that’s been happening has been building to this. You hate to spoil her childlike wonder, but as another bolt of red lightning cracks through the sky, you can’t help it. 

“That’s not snow.”

—

[yerrrrrrrl]

You know what ruins me ?

The sibling bonds in demon slayer.

Usually i think about the shinazugawa siblings but NO. IM TALKING ABOUT THE KAMADOS TODAY

Imagine the pain of having to watch your sibling go through it time and time again just to protect you ? And the worst part is that it's applied both ways. Well it's not the worst because I think demon slayer is so good at showing what lengths you would go for your loved ones.

What takes me out every sing darn time is the first time tanjirou is trying to save nezuko. Imagine, he was walking home after a typical day, and a night spent away from his family, completely unassuming of what his neighbour had unintentionally saved him from.

That is, until he smells blood. Imagine the fear that makes his heart, his heart that has been raised to love and care, drop and ache with paranoia.

And then he's met with the horrible sight of nezuko, his closest sibling, resting in a pool of her own blood that stains everything, from her hair, to her face, to her clothes, to the child in her arms, to the snow that they lie one, to the snow that falls gently on them. His soul is already grieving despite the fact that all he feels is despair and confusion .

And demon slayer does a really good job at conveying that hurt and panic through they way they animated the scene:

And nothing is said, tanjirou just screams, devastated by the scene in front of him. What does he do ?

He must've felt the world just crashing around him as all that matters to him is taken away in the most cruel way possible.

As an older sibling, I can't even fathom the idea of losing my younger brother. Granted, he's not that young anymore. He's always going to be a baby to me. So when I first saw this scene, all I could imagine was the heartbreak tanjirou must feel. As well as the feelings of failure as he wasn't even there to protect his siblings.

THE PAIN DOESNT EVEN STOP THERE GUYS.

I think it's common knowledge that tajirous first reaction to his whole family being slaughtered isn't instant tears. It's just shock and disbelief that something so horrific has happened to him.

Even after he's processed that, his second reaction is to check if anyone is still alive. Which to me is just

BECAUSE HOW ELSE WOULD HE KNOW THAT NEZUKO IS STILL WARM ? HOW WOULD HE KNOW THAT NEZUKO IS THE ONLY ONE THATS WARM ???

imagine the rush of adrenaline his body gets when he realises that nezuko could still be alive ? Once again, Ufotable delivers with the portrayal of this as you can see it tanjirou's body language. The way nezuko has been hastily wrapped up to preserve as much of the little body heat she's still producing. The way tanjirou is moving as fast as he can as a 13 year old kid with another 12 year old on top of him. The way he literally says that his lungs feel on fire but he keeps pushing on because it's his little sister.

It's heart breaking.

Guys the kamado siblings actually have me in a clutch. They care so much for each other that it's so cute but devastating at the same time. I think this is one of the main reasons why I think that nezuko is the sole reason as to why tanjirou hasn't gone fully insane yet.

I mean, the guy sees ghosts at like every corner, but he doesn't even bat an eye. He has two very loud and hyper friends that he's constantly surrounded with. And a breathing technique literally no one has seen in a thousand years. And he questions none of it bruh, his sister is in his backpack. He's fine. There's literally nothing to worry about. lmao tanjirou is so funny for that *sighs sadly

tanjirou's grief is lowkey overlooked sometimes. It's cute that nezuko and tanjirou care for each other but it's also so sad to me as to why they are so close.

[desultory-novice]

I love Elfilin but I also love reading people critiquing Elfy?! ...Is that weird? Anyway, this thought was brought to you by @camachine‘s Hottest Take Elfilin Rant you can find here. (Which also contains lovely breakdowns of several other characters I love!) I was going to reblog but I didn’t want to speak over the original post!

So, my own take on Elfy being bland:

The reason I love reading Elfy critique is that I generally agree with all of it. Now, this is very HC on my part, but I’m very fond of the interpretation that Elfilin's "missing personality" can be attributed to "Elfilin is fundamentally broken as a person because they are (the very small amount) that was good that had been ejected from Elfilis's soul so they only know how to be generically good."

In that sense, I find them a delightful little Stepford Smiler. 

Something scary going on? Sorry, Elfilis kept all the fear. People I should probably be upset at? Elfilis has all the anger too. Elfilin's reactions are frozen at the surface level because Elfilin is only 10%~ish percent of the whole. They were ejected right as things were going from bad to indescribable.

The one time Elfilin shows anger and then sadness (angrily helping to ram the Kirby-truck into Elfilis and crying a tearful goodbye before sealing the rift) is after they've been absorbed in the Fecto-goo for a while. They got to remember what it was like to be whole with Elfilis again...and I get the feeling, based on that anger, Elfy didn’t like it very much. (Which is itself FASCINATING. The “good twin” gets a taste of their other-half’s cauldron of negative emotions and decides they don’t like the incarnation of everything they’re missing? Ohoho...)

I like to imagine that, post-canon Elfy and especially post-True Arena Elfy is going to have a lot of not-very-fun-things to process in the aftermath. Not just on account of inheriting Elfilis's m-M-m-M-maSsiVe T-t-T-t-T-trAuMa but dealing with slowly becoming whole with the everything else they rejected previously. That being the rest of them.

"...Oh, huh. I don't find this fun for some reason." 

"Why am I getting upset? This never upset me before..."

So, yes. I adore Elfilin but because they’re one half of a whole, I think they are kind of shallow if you don’t take Elfilis and what Elfilin is in regard to Elfilis into account. (They are super cute though and I am not immune to that.) Elfilin is the unpainted part of a watercolor picture. They are nothing alone and informed by what their removal tells you about the picture.

I suppose in that sense, my own Elfilin Hot Take is that I think it’s a little unfair when people overwoobify Elfilis as if they can be like, talked down (1) or made into a friend separate from Elfilin. Elfilin IS the friend part of Elfilis. I like it when Elfilis’ character is as informed by the loss of Elfilin as Elfilin is by the loss of Elfilis.

--

(1) I think losing the boss fight and THEN deciding their next step would be to obliterate two different planets and all life on both just because they wanted to destroy Kirby (and this is ignoring things like brainwashing a person for years and deceiving and manipulating their whole family, then fragmenting their soul out of anger and also enslaving hundreds of Waddle Dees without batting an eye) made it pretty clear that Elfilis planned to destroy everything around them just to win. It’s worse than fighting till their last breath, like Sectonia did. It’s putting countless other people in their path on the way out. Though I suppose it’s possible if Elfy regained anger and sadness from being absorbed into Elfilis, Elfilis might potentially have some drip-off from Elfy’s pure, unsaturated goodness?

[dogboy-br4in]

Chart made by Gibslythe!!!

HAIIIII i made a ship chart of them for funsiessss and since they haunt my every waking moment i'm just gonna ramble complete nonsense about them below the cut,, kinda explaining the reasoning behind the little notes i made TEEHEE <33

I imagine Akari is the little spoon most often, but tbh she kinda just lays on TOP of Cola, kinda similar to a cat lmao, Cola would be the big spoon most of the time but sometimes here or there i can also see him being the little spoon if he's being particularly vulnerable around them!!! It takes a bit of convincing but if it makes Akari happy then he'll agree to be the little spoon lol

Cola obviously lends clothes more often BUT even if he doesn't lend any Akari kinda just ends up borrowing or taking them anyways😭

Cola isn't really TOO comfortable to use pet names. The most he'll do is call her "Ari" instead of her full name, MAYBE if he feels like it,, like its the right mood and setting he might call her other pet names like perhaps "Baby, Doll, Honey" but thats about as far as it goes. I don't think he'd use anything like "Princess, Kitten, Babe" bc they feel awkward to him lol. Meanwhile Akari feels more inclined to use pet names ALTHOUGH technically this kinda just means she mainly uses nicknames lol. So tbh they'll mostly call Cola "Co" or maybe even "Coco" if they feel like being more silly. But thats about it, otherwise Akari doesn't use anything else too much lol

Obviously, Cola is extremely introverted. He might show emotions like frustration, anger, or even indifference, MAYBE a few others if he's feeling enough emotion but otherwise I imagine him to be more reserved and quiet. Especially when it comes to a relationship! Akari is WAYYYYY more extroverted and kinda does all the talking for the both of them!!!

Akari is more used to showing affection through actions since they're WAY too awkward to say it in words. Anytime they try they kind of stumble over their words and awkwardly fluster themselves bc they don't know what to really say. Cola is kind of similar in that regard but he's also slowly getting a bit more used to it the more he does it. Overall though I imagine these two show love mainly through actions than anything else, even if its something small and simple no one else would really bat an eye at

Since these two are both extremely awkward, especially with relationships and romance in general, i imagine they're both the kind of people who keep waiting for the other to confess and it just takes FOREVER to actually happen. I feel like Cola, with his higher confidence though, would probably just rip the band aid off after too much waiting and ask Akari out first :3

Akari honestly doesn't mind bugs too much. She doesn't want to kill them or anything either, but she will ask Cola to remove them instead just bc lol. LIKE, she could remove them all on her own BUT she likes the idea of Cola doing small little things for her so she asks him for help lol. Cola doesn't mind bugs at all. His gut reaction is to just squash them but if Akari asks to keep them alive then he'll just move them outside or perhaps somewhere else away from them (like the garage or something idk)

Akari can't drive for shit LMAOOOO she does NOT have her drivers license. If she needs to get anywhere in town she either walks or uses her skateboard, sometimes a mix of both. Thus, Cola always drives and honestly doesn't mind it.

Akari ALSO can't cook for shit either,, she's the type of person to primarily live off of cereal and ramen noodles for the rest of their lives if they have to, JUST because she doesn't know how to really cook or make anything else. Cola is a pretty good cook and tbh its one of his love languages so whenever she stops by or stays the night he'll often cook meals for her which she LOVESSSSS!!!!!!

Cola doesn't hate PDA per say, but if it IS around others it feels a bit more awkward and he does tend to tense up just a bit, especially around his family or close friends. He won't directly push Akari away either though since he doesn't want to hurt their feelings. Meanwhile Akari adores PDA and tends to do it quite often, sometimes even without realizing it at all lol

Cola is very protective of Akari bc she can be a bit dense at times and he doesn't wish for anything to happen to her. He believes in the mindset that "I would sacrifice myself and the whole world to make sure you're okay" and so if anyone messes with Akari or makes them upset and then you'll have a very angry Russian after you. Akari is more chill. I wouldn't say she gets jealous OFTEN, i mean, the feeling is still there because of her instincts thanks to being a succubi, but at the same time, Akari is so nice to people around her that she believes the best in everyone. If someone was actively flirting around Cola she might not even bat an eye at it...not unless they truly got under her skin ofc but that'll still take a lot

I'd say BOTH of these weirdos don't have a whole lot of relationship experience. Akari hasn't really been in ANY type of relationship at all, so this would technically be her first official one. And Cola usually just did little hook ups, one night stands, or one quick little date here or there but nothing up to this level so some of this stuff is also entirely new to him as well. However, bc of the little quick dates I'd imagine Cola would at least probably be a BIT more experienced than Akari is, you know with just the basics like treat them nicely, take them on dates, stuff like that!

ALSOOOOOOO fun fact, but the way their names were written???? Thats kinda how i imagine they each write their own names, respectively lol, Akari feels like the type to add little hearts and whatnot to what she writes while i feel like Cola just leans more towards a quick cursive type of writing style,, if that makes sense???

ANYWAYS, ramble time over,,, i am so mentally ill about them omgggggg

[azrielgreen]

(Found family anon again) Sorry for the double ask, but I forgot to mention how I absolutely love the dynamic between Steve and Little Bit! I’ve never read anything like it and I love how beautifully complex it is. I love how differently he processes emotions and how it often swings in extremes, how he can go from feral, wild and uncontrollable to a chided child when reprimanded or faced with something that’s he’s unfamiliar or afraid of. With that being said, how does LB process/ show gentle affection? Is it quite like a big cat, with nuzzles and head bumps and little kitten licks when he’s content?

Also! LB only really comes out fully during the full moon - does he ever interact with the others (ie Robin, Nancy, max, Jonathan etc) and can they tell it’s him?

Also imagining conversations with the fam with something mildly inconveniencing someone and LB having the most left field reactions to this

ie one of the kids complaining that they ran out of their favourite during lunch, or that they lost their favourite pen in class. Or Robin grumbling about fixing the plumbing under the kitchen sink. Or even LBs reactions to Eddie’s other hobbies like DnD and music. I love the idea of impossibly powerful beings and people that have gone through insane unspeakable things now having the joy of settling into new calm and dealing with the most inconsequential, mundane household things. I think that’s why the ending of part 3 is so near and dear to me!

Sorry if these questions have been asked and answered already!! If so have a great day - I enjoy your writing so much!

Ahhh I just love LB questions!! He's so important to me💕

He shows affection with touch, nuzzles and the verbal observation of Steve's mood. Him being able to scent Steve's feelings is a sign of their bond and compatibility so he's very proud of that. As he has very few personal boundaries and little to no understanding of typical human "shame" he often wants to pull Steve into his lap and kiss him in front of everyone because he likes making Steve happy while among their kin.

He loves interacting with the others, and as time goes on, he can slip into control for very brief periods more and more. He can never hold control until the full moon when his true form is closest to the Mother Moon and her power. He has little stolen moments with the others, where he asks questions and listens intently to the answers. They can mostly always tell its him as his eyes will take on the moonstone quality, and his speech is slightly different. He loves Max very much and considers her Daughter Sun. She's one of the ones who started involving him in conversation, asking, "What do you think, LB?" and he'll slip into control just briefly before he's pulled back down where he rests.

He has many little fascinations, and he LOVES animals, especially bats and birds, because he misses flying with his flock sometimes, even though it meant being under Creel's control. He'll always be afraid of deep water, but he feels very safe with Steve and Eddie. He sometimes wishes he had more time fully in control so that he could shift at will to protect Steve always. He worries about dying last, and he dreams in black and white and red.

BONUS FACT: When he carried Steve's soul and wrapped him up, kept him safe, he actually fed Steve a tiny little piece of himself. They melded at a level beyond magic or love, and so they always shall be. 💜💜🥰

[afictionalwhore]

Father Figure

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────────

A/N: this is for the lovely lovely @jadequeen88. I had teased her with this for far too long.

DILF Kirishima x fem reader

Words: 3.2K

TW: Noncon/dubcon at first. Somnophilia. Daddy kink. Age gap.

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────────

Eijiro Kirishima, better known as Red Riot, lived a good life. He had a successful career as one of the top ten pro-heros upon retirement. He had a good apartment in a safe neighborhood. Most importantly, he had a daughter he loved with his entire being. Kiri also had you. 

Kiri had watched you grow up alongside his daughter and liked to think of you as his own, being the closest, and perhaps only friend, to the only Kirishima child. You had grown up beside his daughter, the two of you inseparable. He was there for every school event, from kindergarten graduation to high school graduation. Kirishima didn’t know when you had grown into such a woman. One day, you were the small child running around the apartment playground with his daughter, the next, the two of you were just finishing up finals of your junior year of college. Kirishima felt like he had blinked and you were no longer the little girl but a full grown woman, and practically a stranger. 

It had been a while since you had come home, always out on some sort of spring break vacation with his daughter. Over time, as you had grown from preschooler to teenager to college student, Kiri himself felt like you had grown distant from him. Not being your biological parent, Kiri felt like he had no entitlement to be involved in your life, so no matter how much it hurt him to see you move on with your life, he let you.

You had shown up one day, stating that your finals were over but you didn’t want to go home yet.  His daughter’s own university was just starting their finals week, but she had said you could go on to the Kirishima house; her father wouldn’t mind.

Kirishima nearly choked on his morning coffee when he saw you coming through the door. You were no longer the small child running after his daughter, but a grown woman, and you had filled out in ways that sent Kiri’s mind reeling.

“If you don’t want me here, I can leave, Mr. Kirishima,” you said, gazing across the room at him from under long lashes. 

“No, no,” he waved, maneuvering his newspaper to avoid making eye contact with you so you wouldn’t notice the blush creeping up his face. “You’re always welcome here. And it’s Eiji.”

You struggled through the door with your suitcase, heavy with your summer wardrobe. Kirishima moved away from his coffee and newspaper, setting down the small rectangle frames he had been prescribed after retiring. 

“Here. Let me help.” He reached out for your belongings, his large, warm hand brushing against yours. Kiri had always been aware of how small you were, but now the brush of his skin against yours sent electricity shooting through him.

“Thank you, Mr. Kirishima!” you chirped. “I mean, Eiji.” You blushed a little as you corrected yourself.

“No worries,” Kiri coughed. “Make yourself at home. I’ll set these in the spare room.”

It was one of the longest weeks of Kirishima’s life. You were driving Kirishima crazy, from the way you danced in the kitchen when you thought you were alone to the times Kiri had caught you staring at him. All week, he had struggled with thoughts of you, chastising himself. Kiri never meant to act on his feelings towards you. He instead planned to keep them bottled up inside him forever, relieving himself only in the privacy of his ensuite shower. He thought himself to be nothing more than a disgusting old man preying on a young college girl. But you were an addiction, and Kiri found himself sneaking glances your way, hoping for little ways to brush against you and feel you against him.

Kiri blamed his current feelings on years of pent up frustrations. His romantic life had been so dull that there were rumors of him dating fellow pro-hero Dynamite, his good friend Katuski, despite the man being happily married for years now. While working, Kirishima had no interest in romance, he had the occasional fling at the insistence of his agency for publicity, but nothing seemed to stick. Sex and romance were the least of his worries. Kirishima didn’t even remember who the mother of his daughter was, but she didn’t bother him, and he was happy with his small family.

Kirishima has allowed himself one date that week, an attempt to keep his mind from filling with images of you. The date had ended horrifically, the woman being only concerned with his financial situation as a retired top ten, and Kirishima found himself tired, frustrated, and still thinking of you.

Kirishima kicked off his shoes upon entering his dark home. He prayed that you were already asleep, or even better, out of the apartment completely with some other man, though the thought made his heart sink a little more. Upon entering his bedroom to make his way to get ready for bed, the sight that greeted Kiri nearly sent him into a heart attack.

You were laying flat across his bed on your stomach, clutching an extra pillow of his  like you were almost willing it to be his warm, broad chest. Kiri shook his head, believing it to just be wishful thinking. You had one leg stretched out underneath you. The other leg was hiked up, almost on top of the makeshift chest of a pillow if it had been a little longer. At some point in your sleep, you had thrown the blankets on the floor, leaving yourself in full view for anyone who happened to walk by.

You were wearing a Red Riot t-shirt that was much too large for you. If Kiri hadn’t known better, he would have guessed that you had swiped it from his closet while he was out earlier that day. While the shirt was large enough for him, with your leg hiked so far up, the shirt barely covered your Georgia peach ass. 

Did you have any idea of what you were doing to him? Kiri thought you must have known the way you batted your pretty lashes at him and flashed your little lace panties at him when you bent down in front of him to pick up your dropped keys. If Kiri weren’t so plagued with the intoxicating thought of you he may have laughed at that. You were nothing but a college girl in her early twenties with, to his knowledge judging by how easily you blushed, little to no sexual experience trying to make her way into the bed of a man old enough to be her father. You had succeeded, too. You were literally in his bed.

As Kiri crept closer, he noticed that the position you were in gave him the smallest glimpse of the pussy he had been fantasizing about for weeks. You weren’t wearing anything under the giant red shirt with his face plastered on the front. You definitely knew what you were up to.

He pulled down the gray sweats he had worn to bed just enough to free his aching cock. He wondered when he got to be such a dirty old man. The sight of you alone was enough to get him already leaking precum. He gave himself a few slow pumps, biting back a low groan. Standing over your smaller, sleeping form, hard cock in hand, it took everything in Kiri not to cum on the spot.

Kiri slowly sat on the edge of the bed, taking care to not let his sudden additional weight move the mattress too much and cause you to wake up. Testing his luck, he pulled your shirt you were wearing up just enough to get a better view of your pussy, his large and calloused hand ghosting along the curve of your ass as he moved the fabric out of his way. Your puffy folds were already glistening with slick, and Kiri had to wonder what it was that you were dreaming about.

Kiri held his breath, praying you wouldn’t wake up. Even his breathing sounded too loud, echoing throughout the room as Kiri traced a single digit up your folds. He collected a fair amount of slick thanks to your dreaming and settled a calloused finger on your clit. Sharp shark teeth bit into his bottom lip as he made small circles on the bundle of nerves, carefully watching your face for your reactions. Occasionally, your face would contort with slight pleasure before settling back into deep sleep.

After working your clit for a bit, Kiri thought you were wet enough for him to sneak a thick finger into your warm and welcoming walls. He curled the digit within you, wanting to explore every millimeter of you. With a shaky breath, he added a second finger, pausing his ministrations on his own cock to watch you squirm in your sleep, adjusting to the pressure between your legs. You shifted in your sleep, spreading your legs ever so softly as if to invite him in further. After what felt like eternity, you stilled once again, and Kiri continued slowly pumping the two fingers into you, occasionally scissoring and savoring the feeling of your gummy walls squeezing so tightly around just his fingers. He couldn’t imagine how tight you would feel around his thick cock. With one hand working your pussy and one pumping himself, Kiri thought he was as close to heaven as he was going to get. He was definitely going to hell for this.

Kiri felt himself reaching his end, tracing his tip with his thumb. Kiri withdrew his fingers from you. Without thinking, he closed his mouth around the digits, tongue swirling around trying to gain every last drop of you.

Kiri felt like he couldn’t hold himself back after getting the smallest taste of you. You were just as sweet as he had imagined, if not more. He blamed it on the wine he had with dinner earlier in the evening, despite dinner being hours ago and that he had such a small amount he was perfectly safe to drive himself home. He wanted to push his luck as far as it would go, afraid he would never get a chance with you again.

Kiri shifted off the bed, careful to not let the change of weight wake you. He walked around to the edge of the bed and laid back down, hard cock resting underneath him on the soft fitted sheet. He placed his face right in front of your cunt and slowly allowed a warm tongue lap at you. Kiri moaned into you, the vibrations tickling your clit. Giant hands rested on your ass, spreading you to give himself better access. Getting carried away, Kiri found himself rutting against the sheets, desperate for any kind of friction on his painfully hard length as he ate you like a starving man.

“What are you doing?” your voice, still heavy with sleep, broke Kiri’s ministrations. He raised his face from between your legs, face burning with shame. Kiri hung his head low as he pulled away from your wet cunny, afraid to meet your eyes.

“I—” Kiri was stunned into silence. His face burned with shame, the tips of his ears and his cheeks growing red enough to rival the picture of Red Riot on your shirt. “I should go. I’m sorry.”

You rolled over as Kiri pulled away from you and pushed yourself up, so you were sitting straight. You reached out for him as Kiri moved to leave, your smaller hand barely wrapping around his large wrist. Kiri glanced up at you in shock before lowering his head back down, still refusing to look at you. The long black hair that he’d given up on dyeing after retirement created a curtain to shield him from you. Once you were sure he wouldn’t move, you let go of his wrist in favor of both hands coming up to cup his large face, forcing the man to look at you. Round, red eyes, dark with shame and disgust, met yours. 

“Is this a dream?” you whispered, warm breath washing over Kiri’s face.

“No,” he softly replied, trying to turn away from your gaze. “Like I said, I should really—“

“Good.”

Before Kiri could register what you had said, you had pulled his face back towards your own and crashed your lips into his. Recovering quickly from shock, Kiri found himself wrapping large arms around your frame, pulling you deeper into him. Your lips melted together, casting aside all of Kiri’s anxieties while relighting the flame that his earlier shame had nearly extinguished.

Hungrily, you had crawled into Kiri’s lap. You bit his bottom lip before your tongue darted across to soothe the sting of your teeth. Kiri opened up, allowing you to explore his mouth with your own, moans from the both of you being swallowed by the other.

Giant hands pawed at your shirt. You giggled as you pulled away from Kiri to lift your shirt up and over your head, stretching up slowly to tease the older man before tossing the shirt aside and letting your tits bounce with the movement. Kiri ogled at you, still in disbelief that you actually wanted him and hadn’t kicked him and ran away the moment you woke up to him touching you.

“Wanna touch them?” You coyly asked, cupping your chest in your smaller hands and giving a slight squeeze.

“It’s okay?” Kiri asked. The giant, older man looked at you like a kicked puppy.

You nodded your reassurance and, almost immediately, Kiri pounced on you. The larger man pushed you back down to lay flat on the mattress as he fondled your chest, pinching and teasing your nipples that had already hardened due to the coolness of the room despite the heat between the two of you. His hands were so big compared to you, his palm covered your tit. Light moans fell from your lips as Kiri continued his teasing, trailing kisses along your neck and collarbone. 

“You’re so soft,” Kiri whispered against you, his warm breath tickling your skin before a hot mouth enclosed on your nipple.

You tangled your hands into his long, dark hair as he sucked and nipped on you. Not wanting to leave any part of you neglected, Kiri pinched your twin nipple with one hand, the other occupied with the breast currently in his mouth.

“Come here,” you tugged on his hair, causing the man to pull off you with a lewd pop. “Kiss me,” you pouted.

Kiri wasted no time, devouring your lips in a hungry kiss, tongue sneaking out to play with your own. Kiri began rutting at you, rolling his hips into yours to gain friction. You gasped and squeezed his shoulders, pulling him deeper into you. 

“Please,” you begged, breaking the kiss and rolling your hips against his in an attempt to push him into you.

“Are you sure?” he asked, still in disbelief that you actually wanted him back.

“Yes!” you cried. His previous teasing caused an unsated fire to burn within you.

“Are you sure?” he asked again, wanting to be extra cautious that you genuinely wanted him and not just a hormonal mess due to him.

“Yes! Why do you think I’m in your bed naked, you dumb old man!” You were getting desperate, your arousal near painful.

“Okay okay!” Kiri chuckled. “What’s my name?” he growled in your ear before nipping at you, sending shivers down your spine.

“Kiri!” you gasped.

“Try again.” He held his large cock in his hand, dragging up and down your slit but making no motion to thrust in.

“Eiji!”

“Close, but not quite what I’m looking for.”

“Daddy!” You started whining desperate to feel him in you.

“Atta girl,” Kiri smirked.

Slowly, the much larger man pushed himself in your tight walls that pulsed around him trying to accommodate for his size. Your hands grasped at his shoulders, nails sinking into the broad muscle. You felt better than he could have imagined. Your velvet walls wrapped around him perfectly, squeezing with a delicious tightness that wasn’t too painful. You were so hot, so tight, so wet. Kiri was amazed he didn’t cum right then and there. You pushed your hips back at Kiri to get him to move.

After a few thrusts, Kiri lifted your legs, encouraging you to wrap them around him, digging your feet into the small of his back. The new position allowed him to sink deeper into you, letting the tip of his cock kissing your cervix with the sweetest pain.

“Good girl,” Kiri purred at you, causing you to clench around him. “Is this what you like? A dirty old man like me fucking this tight pussy?”

You moaned and tugged at his hair.

“Use your words, baby girl.” Kiri teased.

“Yes!” you cried for him. “Yes, daddy.”

“I’m old enough to be your father. I practically raised you. You really want me to be your daddy?”

“Yes, daddy. Yes, please.”

“Okay, baby girl. I’ll be your daddy.”

Kiri continued to thrust into you, the bed creaking in protest from the strength he used to drive himself into you. You pulled at his long, overgrown hair as he kissed and sucked at your neck, leaving possessive marks down the column of skin. The room echoed with the wet sound of skin slapping and your moans.

“You feel so good, baby girl.”

“You make me feel good, daddy. I’m so close, daddy.”

“Me too, baby.” Kiri grunted, his hips losing his steady rhythm. “Cum with me, yea?”

“Yes, daddy.” Your eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy and Kiri felt himself nearing his end once again. 

“Cumming, daddy! Cumming!” your pussy clamped down on Kiri, squeezing in earthquake rhythms to milk him dry. 

Kiri bit down on your shoulder as he came, his sharklike teeth drawing the slightest bit of blood. You held him close to you, the weight of the larger man nearly crushing you as spurts of hot white filled your warm walls.

The two of you laid there, heads spinning and chests heaving trying to regain your breaths. When you had returned to earth, Kiri made no move to withdraw from you, instead choosing to nuzzle into the crook of your neck. You ran your hand through his hair while the other traced lazy patterns on his shoulder.

“How long?” you heard him say against  your skin.

“Hm?” you hummed.

“How long have you wanted that?”

“A while.”

“You won’t regret it?” he sounded almost afraid of your answer.

“No.”

“What now?”

“I guess that’s up to you.”

Kiri lifted himself to look into your eyes, no longer clouded by lust and swimming with love. He placed a gentle, chaste kiss on your bruised lips.

“I want to try to make something work,” he whispered against your lips before laying back down on you.

“Good, I do too.”

Kiri felt himself drifting off to sleep in your warm embrace, the hand in his hair lulling him gently. A panicked thought sent him shooting up.

“Does she know?” he asked, eyes round with fear.

“I think she has an idea, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. Just go to sleep for now, okay?”

“Okay,” Kiri yawned. 

He settled himself back down on you, sighing deeply and breathing you in. Soon enough, the two of you had fallen asleep tangled into each other.

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────────

[izusun]

ALRIGHT I HAVE SOME CRACK FOR YOU

Consider: mom genes are dominant in BHNA. Theoretically Midoriya Hisashi can look like anyone. So Izuku told Todoroki about how his father left early on, he and Kaminari (you know Kami would also be a conspiracy theorist) went wild. Everyone from Sir Nighteye to Stain was under contention (except for All Might, Izuku shot that one down pretty quick), and once they revealed their conspiracy board to the rest of Class 1-A, everyone got excited at the prospect of gaining Izuku as a possible cousin. The mystery was afoot: who was Midoriya Hisashi?

BUT THEN one day Aizawa invites Inko to visit UA campus to clear up the mystery once and for all because its distracting his class. Not only was all of Class 1-A gathered on the campus lawn, the entirety of UA's staff was there because there was a betting pool among all the teachers.

And Inko reveals the BOMBSHELL that one of the reasons that Midoriya Hisashi left was because Izuku wasn't actually his son, and that Izuku's father was ACTUALLY a random hook up. This makes everyone freak out, because now quirk can be disregarded, which means it's anyone's game.

But THEN Inko is like "I do know who Izuku's father is" then looks over to Izuku and is like "Are you sure you want me to do this in front of everyone?" And Izuku just sighs and is like "You might as well at this point."

Inko goes up to Yagi and says "You are the father"

Everyone fucking riots.

- Goblin anon

IM IN LITERAL TEARS GOBLIN!!!!

PLEASE WRITE THIS?? LIKE?? YOUR AU DUMPS ARE ALWAYS GODTIER IM ROLLING!!!

BUT TO BRAINWORM WITH YOU, HERE’S ME RAMBLING AGAIN

first: KAMINARI AND TODOROKI FRIENDSHIP AAAHHH

after midoriya opened up that hisashi left, todoroki rushed to kaminari’s room because new shit to imagine with his best bud

just him slamming the door, not even batting an eye at kaminari’s surprised shout and the mini electric static that filled his room. todoroki shuts the door close, and heads to kaminari’s closet where they keep their mini rolling whiteboard. kaminari sees him and jumps up in excitement because oohh new thing to theorize with todo

kaminari watches as todoroki erases the previous theories they had (it was if aizawa had a minor telekinetic quirk because of the way his hair floats. and then it branched to aizawa having a MENTAL quirk where he just makes people believe that their quirk is gone because how is it possible to block off the quirk gene??? ANYWAYS) and writes with his clean penmanship.

it went:

MIDORIYA’S DAD?????? underlined thrice with red marker

kaminari is instantly excited because of all the things they theorized, familial bonds were always the best ones to tackle (i.e. that one time they were convinced that amajiki was midnight’s son)

AND THE MONTAGE OF THEM TRYING TO PIECE WHO IT IS LAJDLAKS

kaminari proposed all might but todoroki, as you said, shot it down.

why nighteye is the dad? green hair and the mutual fanboying for all might

stain? (todoroki opened up about the case and kaminari stuck to his word to not tell anyone) kaminari’s the one pushing this because think about it, roki. why was stain against both you and iida but not mido? he probably knew that mido’s his son!

enji? “i’d love to have midoriya as my brother” - todoroki shouto, xxx2

theorizing midoriya’s dad got too exciting that they shared it to their separate class gc (lovingly called “deku’s fanclub,” of course it was a secret from midoriya) and everyone got into it. EVEN BAKUGOU

they started theorizing who of them have any inkling relation to midoriya.

uraraka? they both can float (bakugou pretends to be into this theory too to protect ofa’s secret)

asui? green hair

tokoyami? midoriya’s black whip resembles dark shadow (again, bakugou pretends to be sold even though inside, he’s cackling because he knows how far from the truth that was)

the teachers’ betting pool were on uraraka’s family. only a handful (aizawa, all might, and nezu) don’t put in their bets.

and so it goes on and on and on. and aizawa breaks because he’s had enough. he hates hearing from both his colleagues and his students alike about midoriya inko’s escapades that led up to the birth of his problem child. it’s because of that reason that aizawa invites inko to end this once and for all.

“mrs. midoriya inko-“

“ms.,” inko corrects.

“ah, yes. ms. midoriya inko, i apologize for calling you on your weekend, however, i think it is imperative that we know who is the father of your son simply because i no longer wish to hear about this topic from any of these people’s mouths. not only is it disrespectful to you and your son’s virtues, but it is the greatest displeasure i’ve ever had the opportunity to hear.”

a beat of silence passes before inko laughs, light and beautiful and happy. she looks at izuku who’s sheepishly rubbing at his nape, looking far more embarrassed than the rest of 1a and the other teachers who realized that their bets and theorizing were actually discourteous.

so to save her son, she explains that izuku was the fruit of a random hookup during her youth. everyone (including both katsuki and izuku) explodes at the news. inko laughs again, waving her hand as if to dismiss everyone’s reaction.

“i do know who it is though,” she says, mirthful, however izuku knows her enough to see that she was also nervous. it was in the way she fiddled with her fingers, eyes shifty, bouncing her weight from one heel to another.

“can we know who it is?” todoroki asks from beside kaminari, notebook open between them.

“well, if izuku’s alright with that,” inko answers. everyone turns to izuku before she was even done answering, eyes ranging from pleading to borderline desperation. he gives his ascent.

they watch as inko straightens her back, face void of emotions and crosses the room towards-

to-

holy shit.

“you’re izuku’s dad,” she says, clapping yagi from his back.

what the fuck.

[accio-moony]

Escape || Remus Lupin x Reader SMUT

Request: no. A/N: I’ve been working on this for months. I am disgusted with myself for taking so long. Not fully edited, so probably lots of mistake. Forgive me. Word Count: ~9k Characters/Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader, James, Lily, and Harry Potter, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew Summary: [NO VOLDEMORT AU, post Hogwarts Marauder’s era]It’s near a full moon, but you and your boyfriend Remus are going to Harry’s fifth (5th) birthday celebration. Remus gets really turned on when he sees you with Harry and tries to control it, but he can’t. WARNINGS: face fucking, breeding kink, rough sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (male and female receiving), vaginal sex, spanking, marking (scratching, hicks, biting), grinding hair pulling, choking, teasing, dom/sub relationship, overstimulation, dirt talk [all in no particular order god I’m disgusting] *not my gifs*

A loud crash sounds from outside your bathroom, making you jump in surprise and almost slip on the slick shower floor. Out of instinct, your arms come up to cover your chest, though the curtain covers you and whoever it was hasn’t made it to the bedroom yet. Quickly, you turn the water off, and you’re left cold as the remaining hot water runs off of your body. You grab the fluffy towel you had set out and wrap it around your frame before picking your wand up from the counter and slowly opening the bathroom door. You sneakily move to the bedroom doorway and peak down the hall. A tall shadowed figure stands in the great room, a duffle bag in one of his hands, a wand in the other.

“Y/n” the familiar voice calls to you when the man sees you. “Hold on. Lumos.” A small orb of light sits at the end of the man’s wand, and you can quickly identify the face of your boyfriend of several years, Remus, from under the blue-glow of the wand’s light.

“Oh, Remus,” you sigh, and your shoulders relax. “You scared me.” You walk down the hall to him and smack his arm playfully.

“Hmm, I missed you, too,” he grumbles and leans down, kissing you.

The kiss is soft and quick, but still holds all the love you’ve both built up over the years. When he pulls his lips away from yours, you whine, not yet having opened your eyes as you revel in the messed feelings of his lips on yours. He had just spent two weeks with one of his best mates, Sirius, but he was now home.

“Rem,” you say as you open your eyes, but he’s no longer standing in front of you. “Remus?” You call and turn back down the hall.

You find him in the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed next to his duffle bag which he had put down. His head leans into his hands as his elbows rest on his knees. You move from the hall to stand between his legs, but he doesn’t look up at you. You carefully grab his cheeks in your hands and pull his face up so he’s looking at you, but he keeps his eyes closed with furrowed brows. 

His actions confuse you. He’s usually very affectionate with you, loving any touch you give him. Slightly confused by his lack of reaction, you think of any obvious reason he could be acting this way, and your mind found the answer rather quickly: the full moon is in just two days. You turn your head back to him, not saying a word as you remove one hand from his cheek and trace your index finger down the bridge of his nose. He softens under your touch this time and quickly reaches up to wrap his arms around you, pulling you closer so he can rest his head on your belly.

You giggle as you run your fingers through his hair. “I thought we had planned to meet at James’s, honey?” You question him. 

At the mention of the small celebration that takes place in just over an hour, Remus drops his arms from your waist and leaned back on his elbows with his head lolled back, and of course, you take immediate notice to his change in demeanor.

“We don’t have to go, Rem,” you quickly counter. “We can stay home, just the two of us, in bed if you’d like.”

“No,” he shakes his head. “You want to go. I would want to go if I weren’t so… well, you know. And they’re expecting us.” He looks into your eyes as he stands from the bed, his tall frame making you stumble back a few steps as he becomes unexpectedly close, towering over you several inches. He places his hands on your shoulders, steadying you as he plants a kiss to your cheek, but his lips linger and wander back towards your ear, his breath hot against your skin making your blood boil. “I’ll be fine,” he says lowly, “but you better go finish getting ready before I change my mind.” His hand slides down and then under your arm, wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you closer until your chest is pressed against his own. “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart.” His lips trail back over your cheek and jaw until they reach your lips. He captures yours with his own in a hungry kiss, the hand not around your waist wrapping into your still wet hair and pulling it backwards so he has better access to your mouth. The tension of the pull makes you let out a whiny moan into the kiss as your skin heats up.

You pull away and look into his eyes. They’re dark with lust and hunger. “Go,” he demands, and you scurry into the bathroom, Remus clapping his hand on your butt as you walk away, closing the door behind you and finishing getting ready. 

Once the door is closed behind you, Remus pushes his hand down on his semi, trying to give it some sort of relief. You don’t know yet, but he had gone to spend some time with Sirius, because they were discussing how Remus would ask you to marry him, and he had picked out the ring. You’re the only person in his life to ever make him feel normal and worthy of love. You had convinced him, after many years, that he is not a monster. He’s just Remus, with a furry-little-problem once a month. It had taken him years to believe you, and sometimes it’s still hard for him to, but you had shown him that his lycanthropy does not define who he is, and that he is, in your words, the best guy you’ve ever met and ever will meet. It wasn’t until the both of you left Hogwarts that he knew you were right. He knew you would always be by his side, no matter what condition, no matter what happens. You stood with him for the seven years of Hogwarts like you had known him all your life. You didn’t bat an eye when he told you about him, and you worked with his fellow marauders to become an animagus for him, so you could be with him for his transformations, not just to take care of him on the ends of it. He knows, and as his friends have pointed out on many occasions, you would never leave him. You love him too much. Remus would have to do something truly terrible for you to leave his side. After having convinced himself for so long that he could never have a real family, or even friends, you finally made him grow comfortable enough to the idea to believe he can, though he hadn’t told you yet. To your knowledge, he was still an insecure boy who thought he could never love. He knew you wouldn’t stop until you knew you had convinced him, and then you’d continue reinforcing the idea from then on. He’s able to imagine you with a grown baby, carrying his child, but he never mentioned it to anyone until this past holiday when he told Sirius. He had always pushed the thought aside, not wanting to get his hopes up, not wanting to pass his lycanthropy to an innocent infant. If you loved him for what he is, and you take care of him, then he knows you would do the same for your child, but the thought of passing the trait still terrifies him, but to a lesser extent. 

He turns to his bag on the bed and pulls the small velvet box out of the hidden pocket inside, going to hide it in one of his drawers, one you never go in — his underwear drawer. He opens the box, admiring the ring for a moment. The ring is small, simple but elegant, and he knows you’ll love it, he knows it reflects your personality and relationship perfectly. It’s simple: besides all the crazy stuff in between, the main picture is just love — the only thing that matters in the relationship. He still has to decide how to ask you. He knows he wants it to be romantic, but he also wants it to be as soon as possible. The romantic part isn’t difficult, it’s the having to wait until they’re not so close to the full moon. He could ask you tonight, before the gathering, but he doesn’t want you to think of it as a rash decision he made because of the full moon. If it was, he would’ve asked you months ago, maybe on a night where you were scolding him for trying to drink away the post-transformation pain. Quite the contrary, really. Usually, during a full moon, he’d get more self-conscious, feel more like you deserve better, but the full moons have begun to prove to him that he will marry you. You’re always there no matter what, and you always will be. He knows that, and he wants to keep it that way.

He hears the bathroom door open, and he quickly shoves the box haphazardly into the drawer.

“What’re you doing?” You ask him suspiciously.

“Uh,” he grabs a random pair of long black socks. “Looking for these,” he excuses, turning to you as he holds up the socks for you to see. It’s then he notices you’re in your favorite matching black lace bra and thong, and he curses his blood for running hot and straight to his groin. 

“Uh-huh,” you nod, still skeptical as you walk closer to him. 

As you reach the closet and start to look for an outfit, he quickly closes the drawer to try to hide the box from you.

He rummages through his clothes, picking out a plain white dress shirt with a dark red cable-knit sweater that contrasts just enough to wear with the pair of jeans he already had on and his favorite sneakers, sporting his signature comfortable-but-intelligent, soft attire and just enough of his old house colors. He puts the clothes on the bed with a subtle tie and pulls his jumper over his head, leaving him bare. In the mirror, you can see his back muscles flex and tense as he pulls the dress shirt up over his shoulders and start to button it. You walk over to him, laying the skirt and top you chose next to his outfit and helping him button up his shirt. 

“Let me help,” you smirk as you grab his shirt, looking up into his amber eyes innocently. You let your fingers trace over his muscles and is scars as you admire it all, never shying away from his flaws. When the shirt is buttoned, you grab the tie from the bed and toss it around his neck, grabbing the other end as it comes around and tugging his neck so he gets to a height where you can stand on your toes and kiss him passionately, biting and pulling on his lower lip as you pull away, releasing it softly as you lick your lips, looking into his pupil-blown eyes. 

As casually as possible, you step back from him and grab your clothes. First your mini skirt, pulling it over your bum and purposely squeezing into it give Remus a show. You grab your semi-casual blouse and pull it on, then tucking the bottom hem into the skirt. 

By this point Remus had his tie done and was pulling the sweater over his head, smoothing it down his chest. You grab your small wedges and wand before walking towards the door. 

“Let’s go, Remmy,” you call to him as you walk into and down the hall, your hips naturally swaying with each step.

Behind you, when he sees your hips move like that, Remus growls under his breath, but quickly subdues it with a cough as he follows you, grabbing his own wand on the way out, failing to pretend he could get the image of your plump ass out of his head. You grab the gift-wrapped box for the party, and the two of you went into the front garden, just by the old, rickety front gate. Remus holds his arm out to you, and you take it, preparing yourself for the sickening feeling of apparation. Your feet are lifted off the ground as you swirl into a spaceless darkness, squeezing through time and space in a way that would be nauseating to anyone who didn’t do it several times a day. 

It had been several hours since you and Remus had arrived at James and Lily’s house. You were in the kitchen with Lily, talking about what life is like, and how it changes once you marry and have children. You want that with Remus, and you had since before the two of you left Hogwarts. In Remus’ eyes, to your knowledge, he could never put that burden on someone for the rest of their lives. He didn’t want to risk passing his lycanthropy on to his children, who did nothing wrong, did nothing to deserve the condition, no matter how often you remind Remus that he didn’t do anything wrong, that he didn’t do anything to deserve the painful monthly transition. You wish you could make him see himself through your eyes, make him see how perfect he is. You wish you could make him see himself through his friends eyes, make him see how James, Sirius, and Peter adore him. You’ve confided in Lily about this before, and every time, she tells you how James tells her the same thing, wishing his friend could see how much he’s truly worth. The conversation dies down when you don’t respond, but just think about your boyfriend and how amazing he is. It upsets you to see his self-esteem so low. 

Your mind shifts back to when you were getting ready, and how Remus touched you, how he kissed you. You feel your skin heat up and your insides churn just thinking about it. You know it’s only a few nights to the full moon, and those nights, Remus gets sexually needy and rough. It’s something you love from him. He’s usually a softer lover, and you admire him for that, but sometimes you need something more stimulating. That need is rare for you and strangely correlates perfectly with his own

You squeeze your thighs together, trying to find some friction, but you are unsatisfied. You leave the kitchens and find Remus in the living room with his friends. He’s sat back in the couch, almost zoned out. You go to walk towards him with a simple innocent smile on your face, but you’re stopped when you feel a small hand grab your own. 

“Aunt Y/n!” You hear Harry call from behind you. You turn to him, giving him a big smile.

“Hi, Harry!” You exclaim. “Happy birthday!” “Thank you,” he says politely and hugs around your legs.

You chuckle and get an idea, a potentially dangerous idea. With your back towards Remus, you bend at your waist to lift Harry in your arms, but, as you hoped, your skirt rides up your hips, exposing just enough of your thong to Remus that you can feel his eyes burning into your back. You conceal your smirk with a big smile as you talk to Harry, “Where’s your mommy, huh?” Your knuckles nip around his nose playfully as you hold him in your arms, balanced on your hip as you walk into the kitchen with him still in your arms. Sweetly, he lays his head against your shoulder, and almost immediately falls asleep. Lily coos at her son when he she’s you with him. 

“I don’t see how Remus isn’t dying to see you like this with his child,” she comments, kissing her sons head. 

“I may bring it up to him again soon,” you comment. “I want him to know I truly want a life with him. But I’ll wait until a week or so after this full moon. I don’t want to aggravate him.”

Meanwhile, back in the living room, Remus looks over at Sirius once you’ve gone out of sight and ear-shot. “Fucking, damn-it,” he swears, unintentionally getting all of his friends attention. He blushes, trying to act like he didn’t just say that in a most aggravated tone.

“What is it?” James asks his friend, his eyebrow raised.

“I, uh —“ he starts, but is cut off.

“Can I tell them?” Sirius tries to, but fails to whisper to Remus. “Please?”

“Tell us what?”

“We’ll there’s no point hiding it now,” Remus sighs, giving Sirius at death glare. “You’ve gone and told them somethings up.”

“Great!” Sirius turns back to James and Peter. “He’s taking the jump.”

After a moment of confused silence, and Remus rolling his eyes, Peter speaks up. “The what?”

“The jump: he’s going to ask her!” Sirius explains, giddily happy. 

“Finally!” James exclaims.

Remus blushes deeply, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “There’s no point not to. She’s everything to me… and she’s proved time and time again that I’m everything to her. She’s the only person to ever have made me feel normal, worthy of love.”

James and Sirius start high-fiving excitedly. 

“I mean, I already knew at this point that starting a family would be a part of this, but Merlin, seeing her with Harry like that just makes my heart want to explode.” Remus pulls a pillow off the couch and into his lap. “It’s turning me on, you know?..” He says under his breath. “Plus, I think she’s teasing me.”

“I’ve got this!” James says and stands up.

Sirius and Remus both grab his wrists, making him sit back down. 

“Don’t you dare—“ Remus starts, but it’s too late. James sets his plan into motion.

“Harry!” James calls from the living room, giving Remus a wink.

Harry’s head shoots up off your shoulder at the sound of his father calling his name. 

“We’ll see,” you smile to Lily, ending your conversation and turning out of the kitchen with Harry still in your arms. By the time you’ve reached the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, he’s wiggling so much that it’s difficult for you to keep hold of him. Again, you bend at the waist and place his little feet on the ground. Your blouse falling slightly and exposing your cleavage as you had  secretly hoped. You stand up again, and watch Harry run over to his father and jump into his lap. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Remus push a pillow down onto his lap and cross his legs. You smirk to yourself and look at him, his eyes boring you a hungry look, and you decide that you have to use the bathroom, meaning you’d walk right by him. You walk across the living room, tucking a stand of hair behind your ear as you head to the bathroom in the next hall, passing the end of the couch that Remus is seated on. When you get close enough to him, he reaches over the arm of the couch and grabs your waist, the side opposite him. He spins you and pulls you so you’re sitting in his lap, and he slyly removes the pillow, making you land right on his cock. You squeal slightly on your way down, and when you feel his hot breath against your ear for the second time tonight, you can’t help but squirm in his lap, “accidentally” creating friction between the two of you. 

Remus’ hands grab your hips and hold them still, holding you down against him.

“You feel that, babygirl?” He asks in a hushed voice so only you can hear him as he pushes his hips up from the couch, his hard member pressing into you. “You got me all hot and bothered in front of all of our friends. You’re going to have to fix it for me.” He nuzzles his nose into your hair, breathing hot on your neck, and you let out a whiney moan at his words. “I would take you in the bathroom now, but with what I’ll have to do to you, there won’t be enough space in the there.” His lips graze your neck, and he unexpectedly flattens his tongue against your skin, leaving it feeling like it’s boiling. He hums at the taste of your sweat. “And I want to be the only one to hear you screaming my name. You are mine, after all.” He leaves an open mouthed kiss on your shoulder, his tongue grazing the spot at he kisses it. “So, go get your purse. We’re leaving.” His teeth nip at your ear and he pinches your butt under your skirt as he pushes you off of him. 

For a moment, you don’t move, too stunned to do anything, but to your dismay, and Remus’ impatience, his hand flattens against your lower back as he leans forward in his seat, pushing you in the direction of the kitchen. On your way stumbling into the kitchen to find your purse and say goodbye to your friends, you look over your shoulder back at the man you love. He leans closer still to his friends, saying something inaudible to you that makes them all smirk and chuckle. Blushing, you scurry over to your purse. 

“Got her,” Remus smirks from the living room to his friends.

“I honestly didn’t know you had that in you, Moony,” James laughs.

“She does things to me.”

“Where do you think you’re going?” You hear Lily from behind you.

You turn to her, your purse in hand, and you pull her into a goodbye hug. “Remus wants us to go home,” you almost whisper. 

She grabs your shoulders and pulls away from you, holding you in front of her. “Is it what I think it is?”

You smirk and look over her shoulder into the living room.

She pulls you into one more hug. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she tells you when she pulls away again. “Or anything James would do!”

Once Remus lays his eyes on you again after you’ve stepped back into the living room, he quickly stands, waiting for you as you walk over to him, and he takes your hand, pulling you away without any word to anyone.

“Bye, boys!” You call over your shoulder as your frustrated boyfriend pulls you out the front door. Your feet barely hit the garden when you’re lurching through space again, Remus disapperating from Godric’s Hollow with you on his arm. You feet hit the ground in the front garden of the home you and Remus share, and you’re instantly stumbling as he’s pulling you up the front step and into the house. He slams the door behind himself once you’ve both entered the house, locking it with a swish of his hand, as his other grabs your lower back and pulls you against him as he growls down at you with a matching look of hunger in his darkened irises.

You feel that he’s harder than he was just a moment ago when you were sat in his lap, and you could swear that you had long since soaked through your panties. 

His hand not holding your back grabs your face as he pulls your lips to his in a harsh, passionate kiss. The hand that was on your back sliding down to just under your butt as he lifts you up. Instinctively, your legs wrap around his waist to help him support you, and your skirt bunches up to your waist, your thong pressing against his leather belt. 

He walks forward, pushing your back against the door as his lips move from your lips to your neck, sucking and biting, effectively marking you as his own with the dark bruises he leaves behind.

You whine his name breathlessly at the feeling of his teeth, tongue, and lips all grazing and working at your neck. In hearing your name, Remus growls against your soft skin, biting down on it as he replaces your feet on the ground then pulls away, much to your displeasure. He walks backwards towards the couch, dragging you along with him by your hands. He sits down on the comfortable couch, his hands leaving yours and sliding down your sides and back towards your butt. As his hand rests on the top of your ass, he grabs the zipper of your skirt, pulling it down excruciatingly slow, but once he zipper is over the curve of your plump butt, he quickly employs the new margin of space available and shoves the skirt down your legs, letting it fall to the ground silently. Hastily, Remus’s hands grab at the back of your things, pulling them down and over to the sides of his own, making you straddle his lap. As he reconnects his lips to your own, one hand grabbing at the back of your blouse, the other cradling your face, you moan. You revel in the feeling of his plush lips for the first time this evening, being less caught up in passion where you can’t think, yet your senses are still crowded with longing. They work effortlessly against your mouth, his tongue pushing past your lips and exploring the area same as he would if he had never kissed you before, brushing over your lips, against your teeth, the inside of your cheeks, and the roof of your mouth before finally pressing his tongue down on yours, which had been begging his silently. As you two mix your mouths, you moan at the taste of him, the remainder of the one drink he had intoxicating you as if you were the one who had drank it.

You grind your hips down onto his jean-clad crotch, the denim rubbing perfectly through your soaked thong and against your aching core, a whine escaping your throat and into his mouth. Your hands slide under his sweater, then under his dress shirt, feeling his hard muscles under his warm, tan skin, littered with soft hills from scratches and wounds of the many previous full moons he’s had to endure. 

Remus leans back, detaching his lips from yours for a moment only long enough to remove the red sweater before fervently reattaching himself. His hands hold you still against him, one keeping your hips down on his own, the other holding loosely tangled in your hair. He could leave his hand in your hair for an eternity, sexual or not. He loves playing with it, twirling it between his fingers when you lay your head in his lap on the couch while he reads; he knows you love head and back massages at night and how they put you to sleep in a mere minute. Your hair is soft and silky, easy to run his hands through without getting caught on any knots or tangles. He also know how much you love it when he grabs your hair by it’s roots, tugging enough for tension but not pain, or when he puts it into a make-shift pony tail when you’re going down on him. 

Your soft lips leave the warmth of his mouth, pulling them away and down over his jaw, leaving open-mouthed kisses. Your tongue brushes over his scruffy face with every kiss, tasting the salty sweat that has begun to seep from his pores the more you touch him. Trailing your lips down his neck, sucking soft marks into it, biting on his collar bone or shoulder as you pass it, your hands nimbly work at the buttons on his shirt, shaking from the excitement running through you, the continuous passion you hold for your boyfriend. Your mouth follows the buttons as the come undone down his chest, adjusting your position in his lap and on the couch to keep moving a few inches with each new free button as you kiss, lick, and suck at his supple skin.

When your tongue licks at the top of his faint happy trail, feeling his grip on you tighten, you kiss back up his chest, pushing the shirt to the sides to reveal his tones abs and pecks. Remus isn’t super muscular, he isn’t burly by any means, but he’s toned and has just enough muscles to look strong and soft at the same time. You run your fingers through the short chest hair that lightly strews across his chest as you kiss each of his scars, following them until they stop or disappear behind him. His scars are a story, they show how strong of a man he is, the man you love more than anything. His story has become your story, one you’ve loved since the beginning. 

You reach back up to his neck with your lips, kiss and continue to mark up the length of it as you return your mouth to his. You lean in just enough to feel your lips brush together softly, but you pull back when Remus tries to connect them. You smirk as you place a single, hot kiss to his lips before getting off his lap completely, sitting on your heals, your body supported by your knees on the floor in front of him. You start you lips back at the top of his happy trail again, and he pushes his hips forward, leaning back farther into the couch for both of you to be more comfortable in the coming activity. Your mouth trails down to his waistline as your hands run up and down his thighs slowly. When you reach the line of his jeans against his waist, your hands slide up, slowly, towards his belt, squeezing his painfully hard erection through his clothes as you pass. Once the buckle is free, you pull back completely, sitting back and looking up at him with your innocent doe eyes as you pull the leather from the denim loops. Your hands find the button on his jeans, quickly popping it open and then carefully attaching to the zipper as you pull it down.

You hook your fingers into the waistband of his trousers and pull down, he lifts his butt from the couch cushion enough for you to slide the fabric over his butt. You only pull to to just past his upper thighs, leaning his legs covered but giving you comfortable access to his treasure. Your soft hands rub back up his legs and over the material of his boxer briefs, finding his length and giving it a firm squeeze at the base, skidding your hand back and forth just and inch or so as you kiss at the damp spot over the tip of his cock. You slowly wipe your tongue on the spot, giving him an unsatisfying amount of friction.

His hand in your hair yanks your head back with a delectable amount of force, lifting your mouth off of him and forcing you to look up at his as you moan from the tension. He leans forward in his seat, bending low enough for his lips to be by your ear, his hot breath fading over it as he speaks. “You don’t want to tease me anymore tonight, love,” he informs you. “I had already been planning on you not being able to walk for the rest of the week.” He pauses and licks a stripe up your neck before continuing. “But now you’ve got a whole other punishment coming your way.” His hand leaves your hair for just a moment as he cups your cheek softly, leaning back a bit and pulling himself from his underwear. Once his aching cock is free, his hand on your cheek slides back into your hair, forcing you down so your mouth is next to his radiating member before sitting back into the couch completely.

Obeying, your small hands wrap around his cock, and you lick a long, wet stripe up the thick, pulsing vain on the underside. The feeling of it throbbing against your tongue, and the taste of his pre-cum when you reach his tip is almost enough to make you cum there, without being touched. You moan against him, still teasing him, still driving him mad.

His hair in your hair pulls you up only slightly as his other hand grabs and slacks your jaw, forcing you to take his delicious cock into his mouth. “Stop,” he says sternly as he thrusts up into your mouth. “Teasing,” he thrusts again, making you gag as he hits the back of your throat, unprepared. His hand in your hair loosens and his other leaves your jaw, letting you recompose yourself before further coaxing you. “Come on, Princess,” he hums softly, pushing stray hairs out of your face. “Let me see you take my cock in that pretty little mouth of yours. I know you want to, I know your desperate for it. Take my cock in your mouth, and you’ll get it nice and rough later.”

You whine at his words, quickly wrapping one hand around the base of his cock, spitting over it before lowing your mouth onto him, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks as you rejoice in the feeling of his cock filling your mouth. You hum against him, pleased to be providing him with pleasure. 

Remus starts grunting in time with your head and thrust up shallowly to the same rhythm. His hand drops from your hair when he thinks your ready, and they both grab the sides of your face as he fully fucks up into your mouth. Your hands flatten against his thighs, bracing yourself as you take him down your throat.

He’s grunting and groaning and praising your mouth until you feel him twitch in the back of your throat, before he roughly pulls your mouth off of him. He stands up quickly, shoving his pants the rest of the way down and taking his socks and shoes off with them, leaving them there as he pulls you up, kissing you once passionately, both of you moaning into the kiss.

His hand wraps around your wrist and he pulls you farther into your home and to your bedroom. He pushes you down on the edge of the bed before climbing on, straddling your legs with his knees on either side of your thighs as his hands wrap under your arms and pull you up higher on the bed so that your head rests in the pillows.

Remus’s calloused hands slide under the fabric of your top, pushing it up before grabbing the hem and forcing it over your head. He throws the shirt to the floor somewhere on the room, somewhere neither of you cared about right now. His mouth works down your neck, leaving more marks as he crosses over and down your chest, licking at the top of your breasts above your bra before biting harshly in the same spot. You moan out, loving the feeling of his teeth against you. His nibble hands slide under your arched back, making quick work of your bra as he snaps the band and releases the clasp. That is discarded in an equally irrelevant place as your shirt. As soon as your breasts are free, he leans in, sucking one of your nipples into your mouth harshly, letting his teeth graze over it and bit down ever-so slightly as his other hand cups your opposite mound, rolling and pulling that nipple through his fingers making you moan out his name.

His lips and hand switch sides for an equal moment before they continue down the valley of your chest and your soft stomach, leaving more marks still as he makes his way to your panty-line at an agonizingly slow pace. His fingers grip into the flesh on your sides as he sucks and licks his mark onto your tummy. You’re left trying to string word together to make a sentence, but it’s all incoherent as it just comes out as breathless pants. 

You’re able to build your voice back when he just follows your panty-line across your tummy, avoiding the steaming apex of your legs that’s screaming for his attention. “Rem-“ you barely manage, and his lips slow against you as he looks up at you from almost between your legs. “Plea—“ but you can’t finish as you gasp out a breath when you feel his lips switch to your thighs. 

“What was that?” he smirks into your leg?

“Ple—“ you try again, only for him to bite into the soft skin of your thigh.

“I need to hear the full word, babygirl,” he says, pulling away from one thigh and moving to the other.

“Please!” You force out, not letting him cut you off with his actions again.

At that, his mouth leave your thighs as he sits up, leaning over you enough to kiss you passionately, and you wrap your hands into his hair. “Good girl,” he smirks against your lips before pulling back again, positioning his face between your thighs while he sits on his knees, leaning forward. Without a warning, he presses his tongue over the wet fabric covering your mound. Me moans against you, feeling how you’ve soaked through your thong, and he can taste you. “Merlin, baby,” he hums into you, sucking you through your panties before pulling back. “You’re so wet, Y/n,” he teases as his fingers gently wrap under the waist line and begin to pull down your thong. “Who did that to you, hm?” He encourages you, throwing your thong off the bed before laying on his stomach between your legs, roughly gripping your thighs in his hands and pushing them up against your chest, giving him a beautiful view of your soaking cunt. He blows hot air over your sensitive core as he waits for you to answer.

“You, Remus! You made me that wet,” you plead for him. He happily obliges and dives in, licking his tongue up and down through your folds without warning. “Oh, fuck,” you curse out in a whine.

His tongue stills and flicks over your swollen clit several times as he rubs the tips of his fingers against your entrance, getting them ready for you. He stops licking as he begins to push his fingers into you slowly, his lips wrapping around your clit instead and sucking the bud into his mouth. His fingers only pushed in slowly until they reached a halt. He gives you zero adjustment time and starts pounding them in and out of your pussy, creating an obscene sound as the curl and twist within you.

You moan out at the sudden sensation, music to his ears as one hand finds this hair, wrapping into it and pulling. He moans into you at the tension you create and hearing your angelic voice do such sinful things. With your legs still pressed to your chest, you can barely reach the one hand into his hair, so the other reaches under your head, grabbing and pulling at the pillow.

He continues fucking his fingers into you at the fast pace, continuing to suck and lick your clit the same. You quickly become a moaning mess, and you’re almost embarrassed by the pornographic sounds you’re making. Your head turn to the side, and you bite into your arm to suppress the sounds. This doesn’t go unnoticed, and Remus pulls away from your center, his face slick with your arousal. His hand leaves the warmth of your walls, smacking down over your cunt and causing you to involuntarily jerk forward.

“Don’t be quiet,” he demands. “Let me hear you, darling. Let me hear the sounds only I can get from you, yeah?” He cocks an eyebrow at you and your mouth releases your arm, but as though he doesn’t trust you to cover it again, he pulls your hand from the pillow, and interlaces his fingers with yours as he dives back in, eating you like he hasn’t eaten in months.

He returns to your cunt at the same pace, but only picks up the speed from there, his fingers digging not you deeper, rougher as he pushes you towards the rapidly approaching edge. He knows your dangerously close, and he pulls the high from you as he moans into you, sending vibrations through you that tip you over the edge. You moan loudly, legs convulsing at the intense peak rushing through your muscles. He pulls your legs down over his shoulders so you’re more comfortable as he continues to work your cunt, you thinking he’s riding out your high. Only he doesn’t stop. He removes his fingers from your hole, but continues sucking on your clit. The sensitivity from the orgasm that just ripped through you puts you right back on the edge. Your hips start to buck and both your hands lace into his hair, gripping tight. The intensity of only being on the verge of your next orgasm has you crying in pleasure, your hands pushing against him as you try to move his face off of you.

Your hands quickly give up as he holds himself onto you, and when he starts shaking his head back and forth with his tongue pressed against you, your pushed over that second edge, your back contracting as your muscles force you to sit up, using his hair as an anchor. He moans into you as you pull his hair, and he slows down, carefully lapping up your juices before kissing back up your body to your lips. 

He gives you a chaste kiss before he flips you over, pushing your face down into the bed. His hands hook over your hips, grabbing around them and pulling them up so your ass is in the air on perfect display for him. His hands leave your hips once they’re where he wants them, wrapping them around your wrists and pulling them back behind your back before wrapping one of his large hands over them both to keep them there. His other hand reaches between your legs, spreading them apart so he can comfortably stand on his knees behind you. After your legs were in position, he used the hand not restraining your wrists to grip his cock, rubbing it up against your core, getting it slick and ready for you, but still not entering you.

You moan at the feeling of his throbbing length pressing against you, so close, but not close enough. Your moan, having been a subconscious technique to get him to continue, is not a suitable attempt for him. His hand leaves his cock, still pressed against you as he holds his hips against your own, then smacks down on your ass, wordlessly commanding you to beg for him.

“Remus,” you whine, pushing yourself back against him, and his hand comes down on the opposite cheek. Not good enough. “Please!” Another smack. Still not good enough. “Remus, please!” You try combining the two previous pleas, but he spanks you again, and you know he wants to hear you say it. You know he won’t give you what you both crave until he hears you say it. “Please, Remus! Please, fuck me,” you cry out as his hand comes back down on you, only this time for fun, to make sure both of your cheeks are equally reddened. As you’re whining his name again, his hand leaves your ass and grips himself at the base, pushing into you to the hilt in a quick thrust, no warning.

“Good girl,” he groans from above you as you moan out at the feeling of him so perfectly stretching you. He stills only long enough to get out the two words and move your hair over your shoulder, letting him see the side of your face and the top of your back and shoulders. You don’t have much time to adjust before he pulls out, almost completely, and starts thrusting forward into you again at an agonizingly slow pace. His palm runs over your red cheeks, soothing and kneeling the skin under his hand while still holding your arms behind your back.

The perfect friction, the prefect way he fills you up and reaches every crevice within your walls has you softly moaning for him, but you need more. You start to push your hips back into him, meeting his thrusts in his rhythm but trying to get him to speed up all the same. “Rem,” you moan. “Faster. Please.”

His one hand releases your wrists, the other holding your hips against his as he wraps the first around your throat, pulling you up against him until your back is pressed to his chest. “You want me to pound you, huh, baby?” He breaths hot on your ear, his hips thrusting roughly up into you and hitting your g-spot dead center, causing you to cry out his name. “You’re so needy for my cock?” His teeth graze the shell of your ear as he thrusts again, another cry escaping your lips.

“Yes!” You call out to him. “Please, Remus. I need you.”

You say what he wants, but his reaction if the opposite for you. He pulls away from and out of you completely, pushing you back down onto the bed forcefully, and you bounce a little once you hit the bed. He turns you over again, having you face up as he kneels between your legs again, grabbing them from behind your knee and putting them over his shoulders as he realigns himself effortlessly and continues to pound into you.

The pornographic sounds you make further strive the hungry beast inside him, and he reaches down for you, draping his hand back over your throat and squeezing once more. He continues to hit the bullseye in you repeatedly, almost as if he’s trained his whole life just to please you to such an extent. His thrusts are so precise that you barely registered the build up to your rapidly approaching third orgasm.

“Rem,” you draw out his name, warning him, and he understands.

“Do it, baby,” he commands, and you let go of the force pressing violently against your gut.

You scream his name, your voice hoarse and throat sore as you whine and gasp while you come down, Remus working you through it the whole time.

“Good girl,” he praises you, dropping your legs from his shoulders as his hand leaves your neck and slides up.  He cradles your cheek as he leans over you, kissing you passionately as his thrusts slow down. “You’re so beautiful, darling. Just absolutely perfect.”

Remus’ previous aggressive lust, turns into a loving lust, just wanting to be one with you, be a whole instead of two halves. There’s just as much passion as before, it’s just more apparent now without his hunger for you clouding it.

“Remmy,” you whine, too sensitive after three orgasms. You’re still soaking, but you can feel every ridge of his cock as he slides in and out of you. Remus lifts his head from where it was folded into the crook of your neck, looking deep in your eyes. “I can’t. It’s too much.” A tear falls from your eye and runs down your cheek, but he’s quick to catch it, kissing the wet spot it left and then your lips so softly you barely feel it.

“Help me finish, baby. I’m close,” he encourages you to hold on just a few moments more. “You can do it, Princess. You’re being such a good girl for me.”

You nod your head as you look up into his darkened, but soft, eyes. The way his mouth hangs open and his eyebrows furrow together, you can tell he is close. You moan his name as you pull his lips into another love-filled kiss, wrapping your legs tighter around his hips and your arms over his shoulders, pulling him deeper into you. You break from the kiss panting. “Cum in me,” you plea so softly you can barely hear it.

Remus’ hearing is strong enough to pick it up, and his rhythm falters for half a moment. “Really?” He asks, how close he is painfully evident on his face. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Please.”

His carnal need resurfaces, hitting into you harder, and you cry out every time. “You want me to cum in you, huh?” He growls into your ear, but he’s so close it breaks into a groan. “You want me to fill you with my cum, baby?”

You nod vigorously, not being able to form any words with the intense feeling burning in your core. He captures you lips in a kiss as he stills, buried deep inside your cunt and coating your inner walls with his hot ropes, his hips involuntarily jerking as he does. You’re sensitiveness, his words, and the feeling of him and his cum filling you to the brim push you over the fourth edge, and you crying out as your body convulses under him so much you would’ve folded in on yourself if his body weight wasn’t keeping you flat on the mattress.

He collapses on top of you as both your bodies give their last few tremors, both of you panting and sweaty, hair sticking to your faces. His arm extends towards the side table, looking for his wand. “Fuck,” he mutters, and you hum in question to his exclamation. “Our wands are still in the living room,” he kisses you softly, but with so much love. “You know, with our clothes.”

You giggle against his lips before he pushes himself off of you and goes into the ensuite to grab you a washcloth. Your affectionate urge to always be around him awakens and sends you to the bathroom, but when you stand from the bed, pain shoots down your sore legs and your knees give out. You’re left to gravity to fall to the floor with a small squeal and a soft thud.

The door to the bathroom quickly opens as he looks for the cause of the sudden noise, finding you on the floor in front of him. “What do you think you’re doing?” He chuckles.

“Following you,” you blush and look down at the carpet. You’ve always tried to subside your natural clinginess in fear that it will annoy Remus.

You heel hands wrapping under your arms and you’re hoisted off the floor. “You’re my lost puppy, aren’t you?” He teases, making you giggle. A sound he could listen to on repeat for the rest of his life, a sound he’s never planning on losing. He puts you down so your weak legs hand off the edge of the bed. “Would you wait here just a moment please, love?” He says, adoration filling his voice. He steps back into the bathroom and comes back with two washcloths, a warm on and a cold on. He uses the cold one first, wiping the sweat and left over make up off your face. A moment later you take the rag from him so you can wipe his sweaty forehead, too, but you gasp and whine in surprise as the warm cloth rubs between your legs. “I’m sorry, baby,” he apologizes and kisses you sweetly. You run your hands over his head, flattening his hair down as you kiss him back, never wanting to stop, and he finished cleaning the mess he had made of the two of you. “I’m going to take these and the other clothes to the laundry real quick, love,” he tells you before kissing your head and leaving the room.

You build all of your strength to get up and go to the closet in search of clean underwear for you both, stopping dead in your tracks when a poorly hidden velvet box in his drawer peaks at you from between the socks. You pick is up carefully and open the box, a ring perfect for you sat in the fold. You cup your hand over your mouth to hide any noise you might make, but your heart is in your throat as it bursts with love, and you couldn’t make a sound if you tried.

“Shit,” Remus curses behind you, having come back into the room silently. He rushes over to you and moves to take the box from your hands, but his hands stop, resting over yours as he looks at you staring at the ring, mesmerized. “You weren’t supposed to see that, yet,” he says and laughs softly, nervous of your reaction because your face is so blank, he can’t get a clue. 

“Then… I’ll just pretend I didn’t,” you give him a small smile, but one that shows him your whole heart. You pull your hands back from his, leaving him to hold the box as you slip on your fresh panties and climb back into the bed. He looks to you, surprised you’re not questioning it, but your sat in the center of the bed with your arms held out to him and a goofy pout placed on your lips as your hands grab at the air.

He sighs happily, places the velvet box unhidden in his closet, and pulls on fresh boxers before climbing into your arms. Your fingers slide into his hair and scratch at his scalp as he lays his head on your belly.

After a moment of comfortable silence and his mind not settling, he lifts his head and looks up at you, seeing your eyes are closed. He calls your name softly. You hum, informing him you’re awake. Remus climbs further up the bed, laying on his side facing you to your left. His hand grazes your cheek as he pushes hair out of your face.

“I love you. I have never felt this much of one feeling before I met you. I’m so in love with you that it terrifies me, and I don’t know what to do. But you’ve changed me, you’ve made me a better man. I can’t imagine a future without you as my wife and with our kids running around. I never knew how to bring it up before,” he pauses a moment, trying to find the right words as he asks you the big question on a sudden limb. “I’ve just been to scared. I don’t know why, because you’ve never done anything but love and support me, and I couldn’t ask for better. I was with Sirius to find you the ring, and try to plan a romantic moment to ask you to marry me, I just didn’t want it to be so close to the full moon.”

You take a moment, considering everything he’s said and your chest swells with love and pride. “What about ‘James’?” You ask, being stuck on the one thing he said. When he pulls away from you completely and sits up, you open your eyes, startled. He’s looking at you with all the confusion in the world. “Oh my god!” You gasp. “That came out so wrong. I meant as a name! Merlin, the things you do to me — beyond amazing — exhaust me. I can’t speak correctly.” You let out a breathy laugh as you look for his reaction, a smile growing onto his face.

“You mean, like, a baby name?” He asks you.

You nod at him, smiling, and his shoulders relax as he lays next to you again.

“No, no,” he says after a moment. “I don’t want the product of my love for you to constantly remind me of my idiot best friend.”

“Okay, so ‘Sirius’ is also off the table,” you giggle.

“What about our parents names?” Remus asks as he turn to you, pulling you into him as his little spoon. 

“So the product reminds us of our parents?”

He laughs at your rebuttal, and you smile. “Good point.” He presses his lips to your temple. “I guess we have time to figure it out.” He sighs in contempt as he buries his face in the back of your neck.

“For now,” you agree.

“So that’s a yes?” He picks his head up quickly to ask. “You’ll marry me?”

You turn in his arms, facing him and grabbing both his cheeks in your hands, purposely squishing his face a little. “Of course, you big oaf,” you laugh and kiss the love of your life.

[momsopposed2theoccult]

It’s come to my attention that a good majority of people on this website have a really poor understanding of the conflict between Toph and Katara in “The Chase.” As somebody who loves both characters and their friendship, this irritates me. Without further ado, let’s unpack that in what is in theory supposed to be a meta but turned out more like a rant. 

“Katara was hostile towards Toph because the fact that she’s a gender non-conforming girl made Katara uncomfortable because Katara is obsessed with gender roles.”

Alright, so right off the bat this is just... completely idiotic and clearly fuelled by an agenda (and likely also a lot of projection). First of all, how is Katara of “I don’t want to heal, I want to fight!” fame “obsessed with gender roles?” There’s an entire episode in Book One dedicated to Katara refusing to conform to societal norms for women in the Northern Water Tribe! Katara routinely calls Sokka out on his misogynistic bullshit! (Mind you I adore Sokka but he could be a little twerp at times and Katara was 100% right to challenge him on it) Katara is the feminist icon of ATLA! The fact that people act like Katara is some sort of conservative tradwife who loves gender roles instead of the outspoken feminist and political activist she is makes me incredibly angry.

Second of all, Katara was extremely kind and welcoming towards Toph at first. She gently encouraged her to join in with the group as they all set up camp together as opposed to setting up her own private camp. It’s only when Toph refuses to comply with her that Katara begins to get irritated. Mind you, Toph has her reasons for this, something I’ll get to in a minute, but from Katara’s perspective (key word here is perspective) she’s just being an annoying little stubborn, selfish, lazy, anti-social, entitled brat. Of course we the audience find out later that this isn’t the case at all (or at least in theory we should find out later but apparently some people on here skipped that part), but for all her many talents Katara is not a mind reader and has no way of knowing what’s going on inside Toph’s head, nor does she know her well enough yet to fully grasp the context behind why Toph acts the way she does. Katara is somebody who greatly values community and believes in teamwork, so Toph turning down her warm welcome in favour of “carrying her own weight” likely felt like a slap in the face. Not to mention that she’s already emotionally exhausted from having to constantly mother Aang and Sokka. If I were Katara, I likely would have reacted the same way. 

Oh and I agree that the “the stars look beautiful tonight, too bad you can’t see them, Toph” comment was out of line, but it doesn’t make her a horrible person. It makes her a 14 year old, and 14 year olds can be nasty, especially sleep deprived 14 year olds. Katara is otherwise a very kind and compassionate person. Other characters have said worse than that. Hell, Toph herself has said worse than that. That being said, it was a deeply hurtful comment and I do like to imagine that she apologized for it off-screen. 

“Toph is a lazy, entitled, and classist spoiled rich brat who just didn’t want to do chores and expected other people to wait on her.” 

This is another one that makes me roll my eyes and ask if they even watched the show. First of all, the presumption that Toph is a lazy or entitled person is just... laughable. I feel like people forget that Toph isn’t actually an earthbending prodigy in the way that Azula is a firebending prodigy (I could say more about Azula and how her belief that she was the unshakeable prodigal daughter ultimately caused her downfall and how by the end of the series Zuko is arguably a better firebender than her but this isn’t a meta about Azula and Zuko, now is it?). Nah. Toph was a sheltered kid who discovered she had the ability to earthbend, was told that she could never become great at it because she was blind, and in response said FUCK THAT and decided to work her ass off until she was not only great but the very greatest all thanks to her crazy, stupid, off-the-charts nerve, drive, grit, ambition, and desire to prove people wrong about her. Does that sound like a lazy person to you? Believe me when I say that you do not achieve that kind of skill level by sitting around on your ass and expecting to have things handed to you. And entitled? Don’t make me laugh. Toph hates having things handed to her, that’s one of her defining characteristics. 

As for the implication that she’s classist and enjoys basking in her family’s wealth and being waited on...... are you stupid? Did you even watch the show? Toph absolutely despises everything about her parents’ lifestyle. Growing up like that was traumatizing and restrictive for her. We’re talking about a girl who likes to play around in the mud for fuck’s sake. Toph does not care how much money you have. She never wanted any to begin with. She even says it herself; “I guess I shouldn’t be complaining. They gave me everything I could have wanted. But they never gave me what I actually needed - their love.” Not to mention that she easily could have continued to freeload off her parents wealth but instead chose to sneak out of the house and make her own money doing what she did best; disproving people’s assumptions about her earthbending. Oh and I’ve seen someone point this out before but WWE is generally considered a “low brow” activity that “proper” people frown upon and shouldn’t associate themselves with. Toph fucking loved it. I don’t know how seriously people take the comics, as they often miss the mark when it comes to characterization (Toph’s, however, was generally pretty accurate), but there’s a part in The Rift where Sokka asks her when she’s going to start charging people to learn metalbending and she gets all serious and flat out tells him that she will never do such a thing, because money doesn’t matter to her. Sharing her one true passion with the world is what matters to her. Oh and the part where she basically tells a bunch of rich and sleazy businessmen to fuck off and “stop thinking about money and start thinking about people’s lives” is just... *chef’s kiss* Sorry my thoughts here are so incoherent but this take is so piss poor and makes me so angry that I don’t even know where to start. As for “Toph enjoys being waited on” I just- *sigh* Toph has such a visceral and defensive reaction to any implication that she is unable to take care of herself. Like I said earlier, that’s one of her defining characteristics as well as the reason for her behaviour in “The Chase.” Where are people getting these takes?

You wanna know why Toph acted the way she did in The Chase? Well, first let’s recap her life up to this point. Toph was born the blind daughter of one of the wealthiest families in the Earth Kingdom. From day one her parents treated her like glass due to her disability. She was not allowed to leave her house unsupervised, and even then she was only permitted to walk around the gardens of her home. Every day of her life she was pitied, gaslit, babied, ignored, emotionally neglected, and made to feel ashamed of herself. She was not allowed to make any decisions for herself. She was not allowed to do anything for herself. She was not allowed to talk to other children. She had no friends. Other people didn’t even know she existed on account that her parents kept her locked up in her own home and didn’t tell anybody about her because they were so ashamed to have a blind daughter. Flash forward to “The Chase.” Toph begins to set up her own camp separate from the rest of the Gaang. Considering that she flat out was not socialized as a child and hadn’t even interacted with anybody her own age prior to a few days ago, this is understandable. So then Katara comes up to her and asks her why she isn’t setting up camp with the others as if she’s somehow incapable of taking care of herself (again, this is just what happened from her perspective) like she’s her mom or something and it just angers her because she thought she joined this group to get away from all that and she doesn’t understand how friends work because she’s never had one, all she knows is that apparently this girl thinks she isn’t capable of taking care of herself, and that infuriates her because it’s the exact same bullshit she thought she was running away from.

There’s a lot more I could say about this but I’m sick of typing so yeah in conclusion both of these takes are piss poor and I’m sick of having to read them. Stan Toph, Katara, and their friendship. 

[bibbawrites]

Family Ties - Charlie Gillespie x Reader (16+)

Request: Can you please do one where either Charlie is meeting your family or you’re meeting his and he keeps trying to be touchy/wanting to have sex but you/him don’t want to get caught xx

Word Count: 1721 words 

Summary: your annual family trip gets a little bit more hands on when your boyfriend Charlie and his family join you

Warnings: heavy makeout, touching, a little bit of grinding, swearing, mentioned and implied sex 

A/N: sorry if this editing is shit my brain is not working lol  hopefully y’all like this one, ive been debating on rewriting it for what feels like years but fuck it i dont have that motivation lol  also idk if theres beaches in canada like what we have here in aus but if there isnt oh well in this fictional version of canada they have aussie beaches  anyways, enjoy! 

Tag List:�� @happinessinthedarkesttimes​​ @littlemissaddict​​ @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic​​ @headheartbellarke​​ @lovesanimals​​ @bartok-the-magnificent​​ @juliefromaustralia @multi-universe21 @rangerelik @kaitieskidmore1 @katrina765​​ @fandomxreaders​​​ @ifilwtmfc

It had all started when you had jokingly suggested that you should invite your boyfriend Charlie and his family along on your annual family trip to the beach. Your mother had agreed, and before you knew it she was on the phone to Charlie’s mother working the whole plan out. 

Your family lives in Quebec, and Charlie’s in Dieppe, so your mum’s quickly decided that your family would drive to his house, and then the two families would continue the rest of the way together.

So that’s how you ended up in your dad’s old truck, pulling into the driveway of the Gillespie house at 6am in the morning after almost 8 hours of driving.

You jumped out quickly, wanting to get away from your brother’s annoying rap music and your sister’s constant whining about being bored as quickly as you could. The front door of Charlie’s house swung open and within a few seconds you were being pulled into the arms of your boyfriend, inhaling his familiar scent.

“God I missed you.” He murmured into your shoulder and you grinned.

“I missed you more handsome.” You replied, exchanging a soft kiss. 

Charlie’s family joined him outside and after a few quick introductions, you were on your way to the beach, this time tucked away in the passenger’s seat of Charlie’s car. 

- 

Once you arrived your families spent the day at the beach, and Charlie couldn’t keep his hands off of you. By the time you finally headed off to bed you were certain that every other person in the house was sick of his touchy behaviour. 

You made yourself comfortable on the bed, watching Charlie as he entered the room, shutting the door behind him. 

“I don’t think your dad likes me that much.” He said with a giggle, flopping down onto the bed. You rolled over to look at him.

“He’d like you a lot more if you stopped looking at me and touching me like you want to fuck me at every free moment you have.” You stated, and a light blush appeared on Charlie’s cheeks.

“You think he noticed that?” He asked, pressing his nose against yours.

“I can’t imagine he wouldn’t. You haven’t been subtle at all. We’ve only been here for the day and you’ve tried to jump me three times and that’s not even counting the shower sex.” He grinned cheekily at your words.

“I can’t help it, you’re just so hot.” He whined, and you rolled your eyes.

“But we’re on a holiday with both of our families. You gotta tone down the horny.” You said. He sighed dramatically.

“Fine, I’ll try to be better tomorrow. But for now, we’re all alone... and it’s our first night...” He trailed off, pouting, his eyes dark with lust. You nodded once and that was all the consent he needed, crashing his lips against yours and making quick work of climbing on top of you and sliding his tongue into your mouth.

You moaned, your fingers scraping down his back as he grinded his hips into yours. 

“Fuck.” You mumbled against his lips, your hands finding a place in his hair. You tugged lightly on his hair causing him to moan into your mouth. 

“Hey Y/N?” Your mum’s voice called. 

“Shit.” You exclaimed, pushing Charlie off you. Not expecting the reaction, he jumped slightly, falling off the edge of the bed with a thud. 

You giggled as your mum opened the door, frowning as she took in the sight. 

“Charlie, why are you on the floor?” She questioned. You laughed harder. 

“Fell.” He replied simply, rolling over to stand up, climbing back onto the bed. 

“What’s up Mum?” You asked, hoping that you didn’t look like you had been making out with your boyfriend only moments ago. 

“Did you remember to grab the bag of board games? We were going to play Monopoly.” She said, leaning against the door. You nodded. 

“I put it in the little den room.” You told her and she smiled. 

“Thanks Hon, you two are welcome to join us if you’d like.” She invited. Charlie shook his head. 

“We’re good thanks Mrs Y/L/N. My mum is scary good at Monopoly so I’d rather not lose to her again.” He grinned and your mum returned the smile. 

“Well the offer is there if you want it.” She said, before leaving the room. You let out a sigh of relief. 

“That was a close one.” You mumbled. Charlie nodded, leaning in to kiss you again. You pulled back, giving him an incredulous look. 

“Really? You’re still horny after being interrupted by my mum and monopoly?” You asked. Charlie pouted. 

“A bit.” He admitted. You rolled your eyes at him, pushing him away. He whined but gave in, curling up next to you instead. 

“Tomorrow night.” You said, flicking the tv on. Charlie snuggled his face into your upper back. 

“You promise?” He mumbled against your skin. You nodded. 

“I promise. But only if you’re good during the day.” You bargained. He thought for a moment before humming in agreement. 

“Deal.”

- 

“This is not being good.” You whispered to Charlie as his hand crawled up your thigh at lunch the next day. 

It was tradition for your family to get lunch at your favourite restaurant on the second day, and you had barely been there twenty minutes when Charlie started to get fidgety. 

“I’m not doing anything.” He lied, giving you an innocent smile. 

“Bullshit.” You muttered in reply, and Charlie shook his head, making a disapproving sound. 

“Language.” He faked disappointment. 

“Fuck you.” You rolled your eyes. He gave you a flirty smile. 

“Oh I wish you would.” He teased, his voice deepening slightly. 

“Charles.” You warned, and he sighed, sitting back up again, his hand returning to your knee. 

“Remember our deal?” You said quietly, and he nodded. 

“How could I forget, I’m so sexually frustrated I might explode.” He admitted. You stared at him in disbelief.  

“We literally had sex yesterday evening.” You whispered, your voice hushed. Charlie nodded, eyes wide. 

“Exactly! It’s almost been a whole 24 hours.” He sighed. 

“A whole 24 hours since what?” Meghan questioned, and you choked on a mouthful of fish, grabbing your glass of Coke quickly to wash it down. 

“None of your business.” Charlie retorted. “Stop eavesdropping.” 

“Don’t have private conversations around other people then.” Meghan bit back, but dropped the conversation anyway. Charlie gave you a relieved look. 

“That was close.” You muttered. 

“You’re telling me. Almost enough to get rid of the semi in my pants.” He winked and you hit his arm.

“Charles. Stop it.” You reprimanded. He grinned cheekily. 

“You love me.” He sung, placing a wet kiss on your cheek. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. 

“I’m reconsidering.” 

- 

“So what were you and Charlie discussing at lunch that was so private?” Meghan questioned, once you, her and your sister Isabella were alone sunbathing later that afternoon. You cringed slightly. 

“You don’t want to know.” You replied. 

“Oh god was it a sex thing?” Isabella gasped, and Meghan’s eyes widened in fear. You blushed. 

“I told you that you didn’t want to know.” You said simply, and they both squealed in disgust. 

“Do mum and dad know that you’re sleeping with Charlie?” Isabella asked after a pause. You rolled your eyes. 

“I’m a fully grown adult Bel, I don’t need parental permission to have sex with my boyfriend.” You told her. Meghan fake gagged. 

“Can we not talk about this? I do not want to think about my brother having sex.” She begged. You grinned slightly. 

“You were the one who brought it up.” You said. Meghan sighed. 

“If I’d known it was a sex thing I would have never.” She replied. 

“With Charlie it’s always a sex thing.” You answered. 

Meghan and Isabella groaned in unison as you giggled, flopping back into your chair. 

You really needed to get some girl friends who weren’t your sister and your boyfriend’s sister.

- 

“Was I good today?” Charlie questioned, jumping onto the bed next to you as you scrolled through Instagram that night. 

You put you phone down, pretending to think. 

“Well, you tried to tease me at lunch and then tried to discuss it, which then led to me having a very awkward conversation with our sisters about our sex life. So I’m gonna go with no.” You said. Charlie’s eyes widened. 

“Y/N!” He gasped. “You can’t do that to me.” 

“Why not? I told you to be good and you weren’t so that’s on you.” You replied, returning to scrolling on your phone. Charlie placed his head on your chest, pouting.

“But...” He trailed off. You raised an eyebrow.

“But what?” You questioned. He sighed loudly.

“But I’m so horny.” He complained. You rolled your eyes.

“That sounds like a you problem.” You replied.

“Baby.” Charlie whined, dragging out the ‘y’. “I’m gonna get blue balls, do you want that?” 

“You’ve got hands. And I know you know how to use them.” You said. He sat up, giving you his infamous puppy eyes.  

“Please?” He asked. You stared at him, not wiling to budge.

“Your sex drive is frankly disturbing Gillespie.” You told him.

“I know.” He agreed, batting his eyes at you. “Please?” 

You groaned.

“Fine.” You said. His eyes widened.

“Really?” He questioned, a grin appearing on his face.

“Yes. Quickly, before I change my mind.” You nodded. Charlie moved forward but paused.

“Wait.” He said. You frowned.

“What now?” You questioned, your tone clearly showing your exasperation. 

“You want to do this, right? I’m not making you do anything you don’t want to be doing?” He asked, suddenly serious, and your frown fell as your heart filled with love for the boy in front of you and the fact that he was still asking for consent despite how desperately horny he claimed to be. You lent in, kissing him gently. 

“I promise you’re not forcing me to do anything I don’t want to do.” You said softly.

“You’re sure?” He checked. You nodded. 

“Positive.” You reassured him. He grinned. 

“I love you.” He whispered, leaning closer. 

“I love you too.” You replied. 

And with that Charlie pulled you towards him, ready to show you just how much he really loved you. 

[juusworld5728]

Lets talk about Azriel’s shadows...

I think that a lot of people seem to forget what Azriel’s shadows actually represent and what different reaction from them actually mean.

Lets start at the very beginning to his childhood... For the first 11 years of his life, Azriel lived in a cell with no windows or light. He was allowed to come out only for an hour a day, and to see his mother for one hour every week. There are many different ways that one can argue how Azriel came to acquire his shadowsinging abilities or whether it was something genetic (either way, its very rare). Rhysand did mention that he might’ve learned to speak to his shadows in the cell that he was kept in. Either way, his shadows are not something of his past that he necessarily wants to remember. Whether he’s appreciative of those shadows now does not reflect the fact that they were born out of fear and loneliness.

In terms of personality, it’s very important to note how he reacts to things and different people. The way that I see it, he uses his shadows as a defense mechanism. Whenever he’s in an uncomfortable situation, he tends to hide in a corner and his shadows surround him to block from sight. However, when he’s in a good situation or surrounded by certain people, they seem to go away. A lot of people see that as a bad thing, but his shadows are not only supposed to represent his powers, but also his very traumatic past. Soooo you might ask, what exactly do the shadowsinger’s shadows represent?

Well, here is my take. Those shadows in terms that are not power-based, represent that very same cell that he was locked in for the first 11 years of his life. I’m not talking about Nuala and Cerridwen here. I’m talking about his defense mechanism shadows. This wonderful male was trapped without social contact, friends, or anyone to rely on. So yeah, he will be introvert. He has a family, but that doesn't stop him from the fact that his social skills will not be the best in comparison. His shadows represent his loneliness that he feels he deserves and craves when he feels cornered. For the first 11 years of his life, that was ALL HE KNEW. When his shadows “brighten” or are nowhere to be seen, I can imagine that as being the hour he had out of his cell every day. That feeling of relief and freedom. Yes, he needs to learn to accept himself more and who he has become. However, that can be done in the sense that his shadows do not have to be around him ALL THE TIME.

Now, in terms of relationships: 

Mor: His first love. At the young age of around 19. Only 8 years after he’s been let out into society and learned his way through. Does he even know how to handle love?? Probably not. He was born a bastard and probably saw his mother being treated like shit by his father and stepmother. So I doubt love is something he believes in at this point. However, he does fall in love with her. His reaction to that? What he knows best. Avoidance. That dark cell still very present in his mind. That feeling of being very aware of how broken you are but don’t know how to fix it. He does not want to put that burden on Mor. Everything that happens between Cassian and Mor probably makes him feel even worse. Throughout the years though, he can’t help but feel happy just to be around her and in her presence (hence why his shadows disappear). It can be argued that he's known that she hasn't been interested for a while. Maybe what he truly craved wasn't the actual love that he wanted from Mor, but the feeling of love that came from her that made his shadows go away. He craved it and wanted to be around her for that feeling.

Elain: The first time that Azriel meets Elain is in the human lands. She asks him if he can truly fly. He blushes and gets flustered, and why? Do you think that maybe a lot of people haven't bothered to see him in a certain light to ask those type of questions? I mean sure he has his family, but this human girl that is supposedly terrified of him because he’s fae, asks him such a simple and light-hearted question... Slowly but surely, in ACOWAR he beings to get more comfortable with her. She’s broken but at the same time, holding on. He takes notice of a certain light that she radiates as well as her seer powers a little bit later. The first time they’re brought over to the House of Wind, she calls his scars beautiful. The importance of this scene is very overlooked. She called the thing that makes him the most insecure, induces the most amount of fear, and creates his hatred... beautiful. This woman that barely knows him has already accepted every part of him. He further loves to glance out at the garden (a place of happiness that reminds him of Elain) and loves to look at that hidden light in her eyes that makes his shadows either brighten or disappear. It’s very similar to the feeling with Morrigan, but more direct and has incentive. Now, lets talk about truth-teller (the knife that always strikes true). That is one part of himself that he has never shared with ANYONE. Why did he give her truth-teller? Because Elain has already accepted every part of him. Truth-teller is an extension to himself in a sense. Something that belongs wholly to him and makes him feel safe. He trusts Elain enough to give her a part of himself. A very vulnerable moment never seen before by Azriel. In ACOFAS, When Azriel asks about Lucien, he truly does not want to spy on him. It could be for privacy reasons because of Elain but also because he’s afraid of what he’ll see from him in terms of Elain. His siphons gutter and he stutters over his words. Now, winter solstice was a very light-hearted moment but very important as well. As we can tell, Elain is the perfect gift-giver. She gives Azriel a potion for his headaches which is perfect and very hilarious since he laughs (he’s never laughed before in Feyre’s presence). It’s very telling to Elain’s personality as being a very attentive person which amounts to her really caring about Azriel and what’s going on with him. He tends to be pretty hidden and keeps a poker face most of the time, so for her to notice the little things like that is very important. I rest my case..... for now.

Gwyn: I honestly cannot say much about this ship. What I can say are from pages I have been sent and trends I have been seeing through Azriel’s personality. It seems to me like Azriel is the least tense around people he considers his friends and brothers. Even though he's usually pretty serious anyways, the bat boys seem really comfortable with each other. When Mor was around (especially in ACOMAF), he would get worried. However, when she wasn't paying to him, his shadows would disappear (similar things happened with Elain). It seems to me like Gwyn has an outwardly fun personality and Azriel has no problem with that because he is not worried about anything happening. The most I’ve seen from the books between them is simple banter that included the rest of the friend group. When either of them talk, what I’ve seen from Azriel is amusement. That amusement results in Azriel’s shadows dancing around HIMSELF. Not anyone else. No, the shadows did not dance around Gwyn or any other person. I currently see this as a friendship and would need more build-up for me to even ship it. It seems like Azriel seems fine acting like this with people he is not worried about catching feelings with.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk.

[marvelatthetwilight]

No longer lost in Forks

The follow up piece to my first imagine “Lost in Forks”.

I feel so much pressure putting out a part 2, I hope you aren’t disappointed! Clearly on a roll though with my second post this weekend!

Paul’s POV

I’m not ready. I’m not ready. I’m not ready. I get my phone out of my pocket and open up a message to Jared.

- I can’t do this. I can’t have her hating me. I can hold out. Tell her another time.

- Bro. STOP IT. She’s going to keep going off into the woods looking for whatever it is she’s looking for unless you tell her. This isn’t for you, it’s for her! Also Kim says stop being an idiot, she wants a new friend so hurry up.

I roll my eyes and put my phone back in my pocket. I’m ready, I’m ready. I can do this. Just then, the door to the restaurant opened, and Y/N’s beautiful scent filled my entire being. I CAN do this. I wave to her and smile, she smiles her beautiful smile, face radiating beauty and happiness, and she starts making her way towards me.

“Hi Y/N”. I say awkwardly, reaching my hand out to shake. What the hell am I doing? She stares at my hand, before batting it away and reaching forward for a hug, then kisses me on the cheek.

“Hi Paul. Oh you smell good! What you been up to today?”

I blush. What is this girl doing to me?

“Just hanging out with Jared and the guys at the beach...we are having a bonfire later, if you want to come? We can head over after we’ve eaten?” Her eyes widen, and she smiles that beautiful smile again.

“I would LOVE to!”

~~~

3rd person POV

As each hour passes, Y/N and Paul move closer together. They talk about school, and friends, and life. Y/N feels Paul’s warmth from his arm draped behind her. She scoots closer, and rests her head on his shoulder. She looks up and laughs. Her breath tickles his neck as she whispers, “I think they want us to leave”.

Paul looks at her dreamily, oblivious to the time they had spent together and just happy to be in the company of his imprint. Ignoring the news he needed to share with her, ignoring that she was unaware of what she truly meant to him, ignoring the fact that he was the beast she had been searching for, the eyes in the shadows.

He looks around, seeing the three wait staff standing to the side, whispering and looking at their booth. He looks at his watch.

“Woah, is that the time? We better get going or we will miss the bonfire, we CAN’T miss the bonfire” Paul calls over their server and asks for the bill.

“Quick, grab your coat, I’ll drive us”. Y/N looks confused glancing up at Paul as he grabs his jacket and quickly puts it on, he suddenly seems really on edge. Why is he suddenly so stressed? I thought this was going well. She thought to herself.

Paul holds out his hand, Y/N doesn’t hesitate in taking it, as she says thank you to the host as they leave the restaurant. Paul immediately feels calmer at her touch as she follows him to his truck, jumping in as he holds open her door, closing it carefully behind her.

~~~

Y/N’s POV

Paul doesn’t say anything as we drive into La Push, but I can see him glance at me when he thinks I’m not looking.

“Are you ok?” I ask, noticing his hands tighten on the steering wheel.

“Erm yes, just...this bonfire is really important, it’s...well...it explains a lot about my tribe, and...I think you are important to me....and well, it’s...important that you know this, erm....know this about me.” He glances at me, then looks back to the road.

I blush at his words, you are important to me. I don’t know what it is about Paul, but I feel drawn to him, in the short amount of time we’ve known each other, and he was important to me too. We text all the time, he phones me every day to chat, and if I look at my phone and don’t see a message from him I feel disappointed. He’s important to me too, I realise.

We pull up alongside another truck as he turns to face me.

“I’m important to you?” I ask, blushing slightly.

“Of course!” He looks shocked that I even need to ask, and he glances at my lips, then back up to me eyes. “You are the most important person in the world to me” his voice drops to a whisper, the feeling of his breath sends shivers up my spine.

He leans in closer, waiting for me to close the gap.

When our lips meet, it’s like one of those cheesy moments from movies. Adrenaline pumping through my body, sparks, shivers down my spine and my heart thumping loudly in my chest. It was brief, but the soft feeling of his lips lingered on mine as he pulled away, hand still cupping my face as he stared into my eyes.

“Wow” I breathed.

Paul smirks, the cocky Paul I’ve been told so much about appears briefly, before he remembers what he is meant to be doing and suddenly looks stressed again. He briefly kisses my lips again before opening his car door and walking around to mine.

“So at this bonfire...I just need you to listen. You’ll probably have lots of questions. But just listen. I promise I will answer them all afterwards.” He holds out his hand and I take it, walking with him towards the bonfire on the beach ahead of us.

~~~

3rd person POV

Billy Black had just finished the story he had told many times before, as everyone began sneaking looks to where Y/N was sat next to Paul.

Her face was scrunched in confusion, processing the story she had just heard. Processing the information she had just learnt.

Paul stands up and offers her his hand. He gestures towards an empty patch of the beach, that borders the tree line of the forest. “Let’s go for a walk” he suggests as Y/N takes his hand and stands up, offering a smile to Paul’s friends as they walk away.

“So he’s finally doing it?” Embry asks Jared as they watch the pair walk away.

“She hasn’t known him that long remember” Sam states as he warily looks at his fiancée Emily.

Embry and Jared share a look before laughing. “It just feels like it because he’s been following her for so long!” Jared snorts before Embry adds “you mean stalking!” Before they both fall to the sand, rolling around with laughter.

“He was protecting her you idiot! You know it hasn’t been safe for her to be involved until now, stop being mean about your pack brother” Kim flicks Jared’s head before turning to Sam and Emily.

“It’ll be fine Sam, don’t worry”

Sam hums in response before turning his attention back to the bonfire in front of him.

~~~

“So...wolves? That’s a pretty cool legend to have. The most interesting story I have in my family is a random great great uncle who got attacked by a bear. They never found his body, so they think the bear ate him.” Y/N laughs as she looks up at Paul, her expression changing quickly as she sees how serious he looks.

“What if I were to tell you that it wasn’t just a legend. That...it was true?” He looked at her hopefully. The imprints the pack had met so far had all taken the news differently, and he wasn’t sure what Y/N’s reaction would be.

“True?” She furrows her brows as she glances between Paul and the ground. “What do you mean true? Like there are people in your tribe who turn into wolves?” She laughs briefly before looking up at Paul. His eyes are fixed on hers. She can see his hopeful look again, a look willing her to think again. “True...? As in...you turn into a wolf?”

Paul nods briefly, pulling her into the tree line so they can’t be seen. “I need you to know that I would never do anything to harm you, no matter my...form.” With that last word he walks away from her towards a collection of trees huddled closely together, giving him some coverage. Y/N stands where he left her, looking towards the trees where she last saw Paul when a small growl reaches her ears, along with breaking and ripping noises she can’t quite place.

Suddenly an enormous grey wolf walks out slowly from behind the trees, and Y/N is frozen to the spot in fear.

~~~

Y/N’s POV

I willed myself to move. Desperately pleaded with my legs to run. But I couldn’t.

The wolf walked slowly towards me, eyes fixed on mine when I was suddenly hit with a familiar feeling.

Walking home from a friend’s house at night and glancing towards the tree line, feeling a set of eyes watching.

Walking on one of many, many ‘guided’ hikes in search of that same feeling, then suddenly recognising that those eyes had been watching the whole time.

Looking out a window at night, knowing that those same eyes were out there again.

It was him. Realisation dawns over me. I always felt such familiarity with Paul, now it was becoming to become clear why. It was him.

“It was you” I finally said out loud. The wolf in front of me whined slightly, before nodding his head. He slowly moved towards me again until he was standing just inches away. I reached out my hand to stroke his soft fur, then leaned my head against him and sighed a contented sigh. A sigh that was the recognition that I no longer needed to go searching for those eyes that made me feel safe, they were right there, I knew who they were, what they meant.

“It was you.”

A/N: I’m not sure how I feel about this one. I still feel like there’s potentially more to say, but please let me know what you think.

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