#also sorry I needed to do the whole scene because I was inspired hope you like it

[starkeynation]

Is it casual now?

Content : angst, a bit similar to the scene where Sofia overheard Rafe saying she’s not his girlfriend, inspired by the song Casual by Chappell Roan (may or may not be accurate)

a/n : sorry in advanced i know Chappell is for the girlies also idk if im proud of this but your likes and reblogs will always be appreciated🤍

── ⋆⋅˚ʚ♡ɞ˚⋅⋆ ──

It has been exactly 4 months since you met Rafe Cameron, the kook king you never knew you would fall so deeply for. The first time you met him, you were nothing but a blur in his world. A passing figure and a random pogue that was at his party. But Rafe, you saw something in him the moment you met his sparkling blue eyes. You couldn’t exactly tell what it was. Maybe it’s the fact that he looks so handsome even under bad lights, or the way you could listen to him forever every time he speaks. At that moment, you were ready to risk it all.

You made your move that night. The way you charmed him may have made him realize you both were something more than strangers passing through each other’s lives and ever since then, you were both inseparable. Although he said “No attachment,” the first time you both hooked up, you still went along with it, hoping it could be real one day.

Sometimes when you’re hanging out with your friends outside, you would hear some rumors saying you’re just a girl that Rafe bangs on his couch. The pogues call you a loser for still hanging around him but you ignore them and the rumors because most of the time he treats you as if you were someone he couldn’t lose. Just two weeks after knowing each other, he invites you to dinner with his whole family. The way he fucks you in the bathroom while his parents are still at the table, the way he brings you to the country club and shows you off, the way he’s eating you out in the passenger seat, and mostly the way he talks to you, so gently and sweet that got you thinking maybe this isn’t just some dumb love.

You’re at the pub where you agreed to meet Rafe. The sky on the way there was already turning a heavy blue slate, signaling that rain was on the way. You enter the pub and recognize Rafe’s back immediately standing on the other end accompanied by Topper and his foul girlfriend Ruthie. As you are about to approach them, you hear his voice, “She’s not my girlfriend okay, it’s just…casual. No strings attached.”

You freeze. The words land like ice in your chest, sharp and cold. If that isn’t enough you then hear Ruthie say, “You sure about that Rafe? How do your parents feel that you’re living with a pogue,” she smirks, her eyes gleaming with sarcasm.

“I’m not fucking living with a pogue okay,” he says annoyingly.

You have to steady yourself. You could feel your stomach churn as you’re processing what you’re hearing. You can’t believe it. You both never had a “talk” about being exclusive, but you thought you were starting to matter to him and close to making it official.

You hide behind a column in the middle of the pub, trying to decide what to do. Part of you wants to walk away, leave without saying a word, and let him figure out what he’d lost. But you couldn’t just let it go. So you make your way to the table, keeping a neutral face, and try to hold back your tears.

“Hey, there you are,” Rafe smiles, as you approach him.

“Hey,” you say, your voice steady, though it takes everything you have to keep it from shaking. “We need to talk.” Before he could say anything, you grab his hand taking him outside the pub. As you stand outside, it’s already drizzling.

“Whoa, what’s wrong? Can't we talk inside? It’s raining,” he asks, his voice full of confusion.

You let go of his hand and go silent for a moment. He looks at your face that is now about to cry, “Baby what’s wrong?” he says.

“Don’t call me that if you don’t mean it Rafe,” you mutter.

He blinks. “What are you talking about?”

“I heard you,” your voice loud now. “Telling them we’re not dating? No strings attached? Seriously Rafe? After these past few months? Is it casual now?”

Rafe’s face shifts, the unease creeping into his features. He clears his throat, trying to smooth over the tension. “Look, I thought we’re on the same page here-“

“Same page? What same page are we talking about?” You cut him off. “I thought you were starting to look at me differently now Rafe.” You fluster. “Oh and not to mention calling me a pogue? I thought we’re WAY past that..”

He sighs, scratching the back of his head. “Ok about that I'm sorry kay’. I didn’t mean to call you a pogue just, you know…Topper and Ruthie, they caught me off guard. And you never really talked about anything more serious, so I figured we’re just not together.”

You could feel the heat rising in your chest. “I never talked about it? Oh so now I’m the one to blame? Are you serious?” Your eyes narrow.

He pauses, trying to find the right thing to say. “I just…I’m happy with the way we are right now. I’m not-“

“Not what? Not ready to be in a relationship? That’s bullshit.” You cut him off again, not wanting to hear any excuses. “How can you stand there and say you’re okay with this? After all the plans we made, the endless nights we spent?” you continue, meeting his gaze that looks unbothered. “You know what…I can’t…yes, I tried to be the chill girl who holds her tongue and gives you space but not anymore. No, I’m done,” you say, trying to walk away.

The rain is getting heavier now, and both of you are soaking wet. “Wait,” he calls out your name. “Just wait okay…I’m sorry I hurt you, yes I would be lying if I said this doesn’t mean something but just give me time okay, I just…I can't do relationships right now,” he says, grabbing your wrist trying to stop you.

“No Rafe,” you shake your head, a tear runs down to your cheek. “I’m done waiting. It’s hard Rafe…It’s hard being casual when my favourite bra lives in your dresser and it’s definitely not casual when I’m always on the phone talking to Wheezie like I’m her sister,” you swallow, biting your inner cheek trying to keep your emotion in check.

He gives a small dismissive wave, like I’m overthinking things. “Well I did warn you no attachment, y/n,” he says, with such cold detachment, as if his words are nothing more than a simple fact, devoid of any emotion.

You look at him with disappointment crawling up to your throat. He isn’t even trying to make it work, not even pretending to care about how you feel. You hate the fact what he said is true, he did warn you not to get attached and you hate yourself even more for dragging this on for so long. You stare at him for a moment longer, “Fuck you, Rafe,” then you turn and walk away to your car. There is no use in arguing with someone who has no intention of changing their mind. If this is how Rafe sees you, then he is not the guy you think he is.

Maybe he is okay with keeping things casual but you deserve more than that. Rafe Cameron can go to hell.

[dexlabs]

Crawling in your asks and pleading for one of these if you're still doing screenshots redraws :>

I just like their blank stares lmao

Computress.exe is done.

Alright, for the next one, let's do something simple-

Ma porcatroia.

[candied-cae]

And Who Are We At The End Of The World? - Please, Be Gentle with My Breaks - III

Chapter 18/? - - - Read it on AO3

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19] [20]

Word Count: 10,480

Summary: There's a difference between being broken and having a few breaks. But a lot of these kids and been dealt a lot of blows, and not just from physical monsters of the Upside Down. There's still a lot of stuff hidden just under the surface that they haven't been able to show just yet.

TW: Depictions of PTSD - Triggering events and flashbacks

More ST Fics

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Friday morning - the morning Family Video was set to re-open its doors and begin taking business again - had finally come.

It was a sunny morning. The kind that starts with birds chirping from the trees and the smell of coffee drifting from the kitchen. Robin and Steve had made plans to be at the store early, a few hours before opening, to eat breakfast together in the back office and take care of any possible final business that could come up. It was going to be a very good day. They'd decided that much.

Robin was still asleep and a little while away from starting that very good day when a noise that was less pleasant than birdsong rattled through her window.

It had been a week since the morning after the earthquake, and the construction crews had finally made their way to the suburbs near the Buckleys to take care of refortifying, structural concerns, and general repairs. One such house that required their attention, was the neighbor's from right behind them. The one that happened to be closest to the wall of Robin's room.

She was woken up when the racket started.

There was yelling, the workers shouting across distances and making their plans. Her neighbor's house had a lot of worry. She usually wouldn't mind the yelling that much. She could ignore it until Steve arrived to whisk her away. But she had been asleep and would've liked to stay that way. And all the noise outside made it impossible to fall back asleep. So she rolled out of bed and pulled her thin, red curtains closed, trying to block out just a little bit of the early morning sun.

It was about then that the foreman of the crew grunted with displeasure and came to a decision.

“Too much mess here. The whole foundation's got cracks in it, I don't like the way these wooden support beams are splinting, these warps in the flooring don't look good, and that roof damage is only going to get worse with bad weather. Call the homeowners. They can bitch about the facts all they want, but this house is going to be next with the demo team and need a complete reconstruction before anyone moves back in.”

Robin had already finished getting ready. She was washed up and dressed, and finally, the noise softened. Maybe they were done for the day. And she probably had another hour before Steve would be rolling around. So she dove back under her covers and tucked them in around her. Closing her eyes and drifting back off to sleep for just a little bit longer before she'd be taken away from her warm, comfy bed, and would be made to face the daunting trials of customer service.

Maybe forty minutes later, Robin was in that slippery state between sleep and awareness while the heavy machinery of a demolition team rolled down the street. All at once, those titans of force began to unmake the house right behind theirs. So close to where she peacefully slept. And the house did not go down easy.

Robin was startled awake in a red-tinted room, with the impossibly loud sound of destruction erupting from right behind her. The strength of it was rumbling the bed under her body, accompanied by the shriek of over-used and under-cared-for mechanical parts.

And all of it just sent her.

It felt like Thursday night. In the Upside Down. Where the red-tinted sky opened up above her, and the ground shook under her feet so hard she almost fell over. When the groans of an old house moved around her and filled up her ears. Until it all became echoes of screams instead.

Lucas's screams.

“Erica! Call for help!”

She felt it. She felt the fear again. Like it was all occurring to her for the first time.

Max was dead. Lucas was hurt. Eddie was going to die.

Her hands started shaking. She felt the sweat stick to the back of her neck, on her forehead under her bangs. Her arms and legs almost felt numb- or maybe they felt disconnected from her? They didn't feel right. Or useable.

She was frozen. And she tried to reason with herself. Thursday night was Thursday night. It was over a week ago. It all already happened, and she's supposed to be fine. She's in her room.

But as she looked around, none of it seemed familiar. It all looked foreign. Alien. It even started to look like the room was covered in vines, and dust, and cobwebs.

And she was alone. Steve and Nancy weren't there with her. By her side. Helping her run through the terror anyway.

She was alone.

A tear slipped down her cheek, and then one of the neighbor's walls went down. Everything shook even worse. And while she was petrified just a second ago, she was then thrown into urgency. She all but pushed herself out of the bed and backed up under the frame. In the little space between the floorboards and the box spring. She just tried to crawl further and further back, closing herself into something small and hidden.

Nothing bad should be able to find her under there.

She started crying harder.

Somewhere in it, her parents started asking questions. Asking if she wanted any breakfast before she left. Trying to make sure she was still up. Wondering why she wasn't answering. But none of it reached her. She just stared straight forward, trying desperately to cover her ears and make it stop. She just needed it all to stop. But all she felt was the tremble. And all she heard were the screams.

Her dad opened her door. He and her mom poured into her room and kneeled on the floor to find her down there under her bed. They tried talking to her. To figure out what was happening. None of them understood why it was happening.

Max was dead. Lucas was hurt. Erica was in danger. Eddie was going to die. Dustin was limping. Steve was bleeding.

Nothing was okay. And Robin was alone.

Steve's car rolled to a stop in front of the Buckleys. But Robin wasn't sitting, waiting for him on the stoop. She probably just woke up late and needed another minute, or two, to finish getting ready. They were going in early anyway.

Steve wasn't in any rush.

So he just sat in the driveway. Letting the radio play through “You're Much Too Soon” by Hall and Oats. But still, as the song ended and the host announced that The Cars would be playing next, Robin wasn't outside.

Which was starting to seem unusual. He'd never waited very long for her to run out. It's not like she was someone to go to a rager and be hungover the next morning. And there was no way she had something with Vickie that went so late she couldn't wake up. At least no way she wouldn't have mentioned it to him.

He wasn't sure what her deal was, but he still didn't really want to risk getting Mrs. Buckley's stink eye by knocking on the door. A person only makes that mistake once. So he shrugged to himself and honked his horn in two short bursts. To make sure she knew he was there. Not to sound passive-aggressive, but maybe she forgot what time they planned on leaving.

And in that dark space between what was happening and the memory playing over reality, Steve's car broke through.

Robin knew that beep.

From all the times she was already packed into his car after closing, and he was taking too long to lock the door to Family Video, so she'd lean over to the driver's seat and honk at him from his own car. From every time they'd gotten talked into running one or a couple of the kids somewhere, and they were taking their sweet time, so he'd honk at them. From any time someone peeled out past a stop sign in front of them, Steve would curse, ask how much they think his car is worth, and he'd honk at them because he couldn't expect an answer.

Robin knew the sound of Steve's Beemer.

Which meant Steve was there.

That was the only thing she could grasp and hold on to. Steve was there. Somewhere out of sight, but there. Steve was there, so she wasn't alone.

“Steve? STEVE?” she called for him. Past her parents that didn't fit the picture in front of her, she yelled for her best friend to fill in.

Just when Steve was really starting to wonder what was up, he saw Robin's father open the door.

“There's something wrong with her!” he shouted, looking more scared than grown-ups usually let him see.

And Steve didn't even think he'd ever run so fast for anything. Before he could even worry about what specifically could be wrong, before he could worry about the Buckleys not being his biggest fans, before he could worry about not technically having been invited inside their house - he was through the front door and following the sound of Robin's voice down the hallway to her room. Where her mother was crouched on the floor trying to reason with where Robin must've been under her bed.

He just shucked the jacket off his arms and scooted himself under there beside her.

“Hey. Hey, Rob. I'm here. It's me.”

She looked at him. And he made sense. As much as all of it didn't make sense, Steve being there with her while she felt terrified? That made sense.

Robin's fingers released a sweater that had been lost under her bed and instead grabbed onto the short sleeve of Steve's white shirt.

“Steve. Steve, it's- i- it's shaking. Everything is…”

“I know. I know, it is.” He nodded with her,” But, hey, I’m right here with you. Okay?”

There was barely enough room for the width of their bodies under there. But even so, Steve untucked his arm from beside him and pushed it into the space over Robin. He held her tight around her shoulders, her hand still twisted in the fabric of his shirt. She was probably going to stretch it out, but Steve wasn't even a little worried about it then.

“It's so loud…” she whispered, trying to cover up one ear without letting go of Steve.

“That's okay. That's okay, because…” Steve reached over to his discarded jacket. In the pocket was his walkman and one of his mixes he was keeping on him until he made the one specifically for Vecna. He slipped the headphones over her ears with a little difficulty, due to the angle and tight quarters. But after he got it on, he'd quickly sped through the first third of the tape, because ABBA's “Lay All Your Love On Me” should've been the fifth song on it.

He pulled her tighter against him while she listened to the music and spoke right into her hair,“ I’m right here. And I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

She continued to cry.

Robin's parents just looked at the two in shock. They knew that they had gotten close, but they never imagined… Steve was the kid in town with a reputation for getting around. They always assumed there was something there, something he was chasing her for. They weren’t happy about it but figured - maybe just maybe - Steve Harrington got drawn into Robin’s refusal of his advances and it just made a game for him after they worked together at the mall.

But the way he was looking at her, it was love.

And not a romantic or lustful thing. It was just love in its purest form. Like they were two halves of the same person. Destined to link their arms together for the rest of their lives, despite whatever husband and wife they would get tied to down the road. It was something bigger than her parents understood.

But they were starting to.

Robin eventually stopped shaking so badly, and stopped crying so hard. Steve asked them if the construction crew could stop what they were doing. Even for just fifteen minutes. Just long enough to let Robin calm down some and get out from under the mattress and put some distance between them.

And the parents left them to each other. Somehow, they completely trusted that all Steve Harrington wanted to do was help their daughter feel better. When they told the crew that their kid was having something of a nervous breakdown, they were incredibly apologetic and immediately shut off all the equipment. Mrs. Buckley brought out some lemonade for them as a thank-you while they killed a little time.

“You doing better, Rob?” Steve asked when she looked like she was coming back to herself.

The room didn't look so scary anymore. Her mind wasn't covering her floor and walls in leathery tentacles. She couldn't hear kids screaming and crying in her ears. She knew Max was safe in the hospital, and Eddie was right next to her recovering. Lucas, Erica, Dustin, and Steve all made it out with bumps and bruises, but they were fine.

Robin pushed the headphones off of one of her ears and nodded to Steve, wiping off her face,” Yeah. Yeah.”

“Do you wanna get up?” he offered.

She thought about it. But her legs still felt like jello, and she still had an icky feeling making her hair stand up. It didn't look like the Upside Down anymore, but she was still scared it would again as soon as she made it to her feet.

“Not yet? It feels safer down here. Closed in, nothing can surprise me.”

“Okay. We’ll stay down here for a few minutes.”

Robin shook her head. She felt silly. “We’re going to be late to work,” she told him.

“Fuck work.” Steve remarked, and she laughed through a sniffle,” I’m the manager now. I say Family Video can re-open tomorrow.”

But then the worry hit her again,“ But, Steve, if I stay here all day and they start again, I-”

Steve just shrugged against her shoulder,“ We can go wherever. Wherever you want.”

And she relaxed again.

They got her up off the floor, splashed some water on her face, and got packed into the car after Robin hugged her parents. Told them she was going to be fine.

They blared music from his car and stopped back at his house first to grab snacks. She met the Antonovs while Steve stole a boombox and a handful of cassettes from his room. And then they made quick goodbyes and were off again. Steve figured a good place to go, to get away from everything, was that junkyard past the quarry.

They drove up the gravel road, around the big open water, into the break of the trees, and out through the clearing of abandoned cars and scrap.

“So, this is where Dustin took you, huh?”

She'd wondered what kind of place made for a demodog trap and makeshift fortress to hunker down in. Not enough to actually ask for a visit to a place that screamed serial killer central, but she'd wondered about it.

“Yeah. Except we came from the tracks and walked the whole way from town.” Steve told her.

Robin crinkled up her nose at the idea,“ If you're gonna bring me to the edge of the world, I'm not walking there. Only way you're getting me all the way out here is if I'm riding in style.” She leaned back in the seat, popped her feet up on the dash, and closed her eyes. Like she was trying to become the picture of luxury.

Steve just smiled softly and hummed,“ Of course, you are.”

The Beemer was parked and the two climbed out together. Robin's first instinct was to comment on the mess. The broken glass and the dented-up metal. Steve pretended it was all damage from the demodogs. She didn't know any better to push it. But they sat down in an open spot. Dug into the leftovers of Claudia's brownies while they just talked and looked out over the hill.

And then Robin brought the conversation back to something she considered to be of high importance.

“So, what's the plan with Nancy?”

Steve completely turned away from her, echoing her question like that'd make her drop it,“ What's the plan?”

And, as if she didn't even hear the annoyance in his tone, she agreed,“ Yeah. What's the plan? What sort of idea do we have on the docket?”

“Robin. Her boyfriend is sleeping on my couch right now.” Steve reminded her.

“Which is why I want to know the plan. Situation's gotten complicated.” Robin crossed her legs and popped a bit of brownie into her mouth.

But he declared,“ There is no plan.”

And she almost sounded disappointed. "Steve.”

“You guys keep trying to open that door - and maybe you could entertain the idea while Jonathan wasn't around - but it's different now.”

“You guys?” Robin pointed out,” Who else has been talking about you and Nancy?”

Steve muttered,“ Munson might've said something stupid…”

Her eyes widened,“ See! Multiple people-”

“Just the two-”

“Multiple people think there's something there! So why aren't you going for it? We got your confidence back, you're acting like the hot commodity you are again. Don't get why you're wasting time.”

He tried to redirect her,“ Why don't we focus on the Vickie front?”

She argued,“ The Vickie front is fine!”

“Oh? So what are the two of you then?” Steve pressed.

Robin got quiet before eventually saying,” I don't know.”

“That doesn't sound very fine.”

Which thankfully seemed to pull her away from Nancy Wheeler.

“How do I broach that topic then, Steve?” she asked.

“Well, you're gonna wanna get all dressed up, look real nice, lean in close, and then you're going to ask her where this thing is going.”

“And if she doesn't think 'this thing' is going where I want it to go? Then I've just outed myself and started the countdown until I become the town pariah.”

“You just gotta be covert enough it's safe, and direct enough you get a clear answer,” Steve advised. Which sounded like an impossible balance to strike.

And Robin was at least a little bit annoyed he'd even say such a thing. “Oh? Is that all?“

“That's all it takes!”

“Then…” Robin leaned over and got all in Steve's space before she put on a husky voice,“ Where do you think this Nancy thing is going?”

Steve cried out “Shut up!” and shoved her shoulder. They both fell into boisterous laughter while they lay out on the grass. Leaving behind the horrors of that morning and knowing full well that Family Video wasn't opening by 10 am as they planned.

Karen got a phone call that morning from Theresa. Robin's mother mentioned that they'd had a rough morning at their house, and asked if Karen had noticed Nancy going through anything after the earthquake. Seeming like she was reliving it at all, or stuff like night terrors? Karen truthfully told her that she hadn't seen any of that from Nancy, but what she kept to herself was that their kids didn't just face an earthquake. Karen knew they'd seen more than they needed to.

And with her soft heart, knowing that Robin got really shaken up and quickly left with Steve that morning to get away from the ruckus, Karen decided she'd pay the two of them a visit. Offer a little kindness and remind them that - even if they couldn't turn to their own parents for help - she was on their team now. Like what Nancy had said the night she found out what was going on.

So Karen baked a batch of fresh cookies in the oven. Her oldest daughter was pouring over her school work, the new and the old, and paying extra attention to her essays. Karen slid a plate on the dining room table to Nancy as they came out. Still warm and gooey, practically falling apart as Karen warned her to let them cool a minute so she didn't burn herself. And then she headed out the door. Packing herself and her Tupperware container away while she drove over to Steve's place. Where surely the two of them would have gone after Robin's fright.

The oddest thing was, as she came up to the front porch and knocked on the door, it wasn't either of them that answered. Nor was it Hopper or Joyce, or any of the kids. Instead, there was a man she'd never met before. A very attractive man, for the record, wearing a pretty skimpy pair of cut-off jeans that were halfway up his thighs and what probably used to be a tee shirt until the sleeves were snipped off to the shoulder and the bottom cropped until it almost showed skin.

Which was a little out of the usual considering Spring just started and nobody else in Hawkins would be dressing like that for weeks, if not months. Just wasn't warm enough for it yet. But there this mystery man was, looking like he was ready to host a Summer cookout and work on his poolside tan.

He pursed his lips under a crisp mustache and asked, with a strong, deep voice and accent,” Yes?”

“Uh, yes, I- uh- I’m Karen. Wheeler. Mike and Nancy’s mom.” she explained. Remembering herself after a moment and shifting the cookies onto one arm, reaching out with her other hand to shake his. Friendly, polite, and mannerly. Maybe a little more bashful than she should be.

He smiled kindly and shook it with a firm grip,” Dmitri. I am Mikhail’s father.”

“Oh, yes, I’d heard- that, um, that we had someone new coming into town.” she made the connection and thought to herself that she was being silly. Stuttering and sputtering for no reason.

“Ah, yes.” Dmitri nodded,” Once your government sends me some papers, I may move out of this boy’s home. Maybe then we will even be neighbors, yes?”

Karen smiled and agreed,” Yeah, maybe.”

It was quiet for only a moment before he wondered,“ Was there something…?”

“Oh! Yes! Sorry, um, I assumed Steve and Robin would be around. Wanted to drop off a snack for them.” she motioned to the container she held.

“That is very kind of you. They are out, but I can put it in the kitchen.” he offered.

She handed the sweets over with a simple “thank you,” but she didn't exactly want to run back home so quickly. And she thought it was only reasonable to try and get to know him. Being another adult on the end-of-the-world team and all.

“How- how are you and your son adjusting? To Hawkins? I'm sure it must be a big change.”

“It is fine,” he assured her. “Mikhail wishes he were in school. Also wishes he had his own room, but that will change in time. We are fine. Much better away from where we were. And I, myself, am most enjoying all the time free from work and the warm temperature.”

Dmitri remarked on it all with a smile. Pale, blue eyes shining under the midwest sun. Which must've been a stark difference compared to the snow-covered country he'd called home just days before. He really seemed happy to have completely turned his whole life around.

It wasn't like he had much of a choice. By the sound of it from Murray, Hop, and Joyce, he had to leave. There wasn't anything left for him or his son in the Soviet Union after he was imprisoned, escaped, and every person at his workplace - convicts and guards alike - was killed. He was a renegade, no matter what. So he had to pack up his kid and him, board a sketchy helicopter, and come with the people he'd become loose companions with. Chasing “hope of a better life” and “the American dream” as far as it'd take him.

It sounded terrifying for Karen to imagine putting her own family through. But here, the man stood. In the door of a teenage boy's home because it had a spare room to borrow. In a country he didn't know. Without a clue about what exactly was going to happen in the coming days, weeks, months, or years. If they made it that long.

And he smiled under the sunshine. Because he was away from work, and they had nice weather in Hawkins, Indiana. And that was enough to be happy about.

“Really?” she asked him.

“Oh, yes. Certainly. If I could spend the rest of my days like this, though in a home of my own, I would. Waking up early, making food, spending time with Mikhail and sending him off, enjoying this lovely weather… it is all I need.”

Karen had to laugh to herself. It sounded like the life of a housewife this man was wishing for. And she knew it wasn't all sunshine and rainbows. It wasn't as easy or as fulfilling as it seemed like it was when a person summed up in one clean sentence.

“Your son must be better behaved than mine.” she joked.

But Dmitri's eyebrow raised, and he leaned in closer to drop his voice,“ You think too highly of Mikhail. He is still a handful.” He sat back and mentioned,” Though, I suspect I am lucky to just have the one. You manage two.”

“Three, actually.” she corrected,” I have my youngest, Holly, too.”

“Three, then. Miss Wheeler, you are a mother of considerable strength, to do so on your own.”

“Oh, I’m not on my own. My husband, Ted, he-” Karen stumbled for a second. Not exactly sure how much she could speak to her husband's adequacy as a father. Not when it came to the softer parts of childcare. “Well, he supports us. Has a good job and brings home the bacon.”

“But you manage the home and children?” the man restated.

“Uh, yes, I guess, he mostly catches the bills, and I manage the house. And the kids. The day-to-day. If you want to look at it like that.”

“Then that makes you strong,” he argued.

Karen just averted her eyes and brushed her hair off her shoulder. “You’d be the first to think so.”

“Americans do not think their mothers are strong?”

“It’s-” She didn't get very far.

“They should. I believe you are very strong woman, Miss Karen Wheeler.” Dmitri said with full sincerity.

She couldn't help but notice he didn't correct to “Mrs.” even though she brought up her marriage. But it was nice to hear the rest of that sentence too. She was a strong woman. Seriously spoken, because it was no laughing matter.

Karen also couldn't help but ask a question she's wondered a few times by herself.

“Was it easy? To work and take care of your son on your own?”

It seemed a little rude to ask. She'd only known the man for a few minutes, and she only knew he was a widower or some kind of divorcee because it was sort of the elephant in the room. You don't think to grab the kid and not the mom if everything is going well. So he was in the parenting game on his own. And maybe sometimes Karen wondered if she could do something like that.

“Absolutely not.” he answered honestly,” My wife passed many years back. And my job it- it kept me away from home a lot. Only way we got through it was our sweet neighbor watching him when I could not. I only hope I may find way to tend to him more now.”

“You’d want to be a house-husband?” she asked, surprised.

“If I could? Absolutely. Just be a little… little trophy for the Missus to show off while I take care of the home and my boy.” he mused. “Sounds like a fine life to me.”

Karen only let out about half a laugh. “You’re a very interesting man, Dmitri.”

“What? You do not agree?”

“I can see the appeal, from the outside view. I’ve been in the housewife spot for a while now. It can be nice at times, but I definitely miss…” her eyes wandered,” the freedom.”

“I take it you have a passion then? One you put away to take care of your family?” Dmitri leaned against the door frame. His exposed bicep squished against woodgrain, though Karen tried not to notice, and he watched her carefully. Listening.

She admitted to him,“ Yeah, I did. Once upon a time. Many, many years ago.”

“Well, I hope you find it again, Miss Karen.” There it was with the “Miss” again- “Maybe your kids straighten up and give you time to chase it? Or your husband takes over some responsibilities of the house?”

“Oh, that’ll be the day.”

“You think Mr. Wheeler is not strong enough for the job?”

“He does his job.” Karen had to defend her husband. She began to count on her fingers,” Provides the roof over our heads, food on the table-”

But this Dmitri wasn't having it. With one hand, he gently closed his grip around hers. Only enough pressure to stop her, so he could say,“ If your husband leaves you so dissatisfied, then I do not believe he does his job very well.”

And Karen could feel the heat in her cheeks go hotter. He was close. And touching her hands. And serious but not afraid to laugh. And sweet in the way he talked about his kid. And attentive to her in a way no one has been since she and Ted first met.

It swelled something in her chest that scared her.

She smiled politely, and pulled her hands back,“ Sorry to have taken up so much of your time. I wasn't planning on more than a quick drop-off. But I’m happy to hear you’re both settling in. Feel free to help yourselves to the cookies as well.”

“Thank you,” he said, smoothly. No hint of dismay as she backed out. And then he added,” But it was no bother to speak with a beautiful woman on a nice day. Especially if she's brought over her own baking.”

In a moment of bravery, Karen agreed.

“It was no bother speaking to you either. I’ll see you again sometime.”

“Until then, Miss Karen. To your free time and the rise of house-husbandry.”

And Mr. Antonov stayed at the door while Karen returned to her car. He popped open the top and swiped himself a cookie in the wait. Watching as she opened the door and slid into the driver's seat. He only closed the front door of Steve's house once he'd seen the engine turn over fine. Making sure she'd have no problem getting home.

A length of care just beyond what was necessary.

It'd been a long, long time since Karen felt like anyone had extended that attention toward her.

Not that it mattered much. She was a married woman. A housewife. A stay-at-home mom. And Dmitri didn't convey much confidence that she was able to be anything else anymore. Not with three children to look out for. Even if Nancy was going to be off to college soon, Mike still had three years left. Hell- Holly was only six.

She needed to get back home.

Get back to what she knew how to do.

Time passed by in the junkyard. The sun rose up and eventually hung high in the sky overhead. Steve and Robin nearly emptied the last of Claudia's brownies. They were probably ready for some real food soon. And to get back to civilization.

But, for the moment, they just lay out on the ground next to each other.

Trying not to think about all the dirt getting into their hair and rubbing into the back of their clothes.

But Robin finally felt like herself again.

“Thank you,” she said to him. Her best friend. Who sat with her through the whole thing. Even though it snuck up on them out of nowhere, and they've never dealt with anything like it themselves.

“For?” he asked her.

She filled in,“ For being there for me.”

“Rob,” Steve rolled over onto his side to look at her,” I always will be. You know that.”

Robin nodded,“ I know. I just…” she started to explain,” didn’t realize it could get that bad. Nothing ever hit me like that after last summer. Nothing was ever similar enough to what happened that I just- I don’t know. But then I was just in my room, and I looked around, and it was just like Thursday night. Like some amalgamation of my bedroom and the Creel house, and the sounds were just- ”

Steve put his hand on hers where she'd started mindlessly ripping grass up by the roots.

“I know. But we’re fine. We’re fine.” he assured her.

“Yeah. We are.”

“So we’re feeling better now?”

“Yeah. We’re feeling better now.” Robin squeezed his hand.

“All the way better, or is there still something you need to be all the way there?”

She chuckled and smiled up at the bright blue sky. A big toothy smile. The kind her mother would've told her to reign in if they were taking family pictures. But the gentle fondness of Steve Harrington could be funny when he overdid it. Like a mother hen checking on his little chickadees over and over again.

And Steve might've been thinking about cruising by a drive-thru to finish off the comfort, but Robin had another solution in mind to settle any lingering anxiety.

“Well, if you’re offering… you know what my favorite thing ever is…”

And that was all the leading she had to do. Steve's eyes narrowed at her. But he didn't resist much.

“… Fine. Since you had a shitty morning.”

And then Steve went to his cassette player and dropped in “Robin’s Mix.” A tape he'd put together some time ago that always got the most runtime when its namesake was with him. It only took seconds for the sounds of ABBA's “Dancing Queen” to come out through the speakers. The first song on it. Robin stood, dusted herself off, and joined Steve by the hood of his Beemer where he'd propped the player. Fully set on turning the patch of seclusion into their own private dance floor.

And as the Swedish singers came in, Steve was quick to mime a microphone of his own. Directing every single word to his very best friend. Just like they had for her birthday.

“You are the dancing Queen, Young and sweet, Only seventeen! You can dance, You can jive, Having the time of your life, Ooooo~ See that girl, Watch that screen, Digging the Dancing Queen!”

They spun around each other. Robin shook out her hair, dropped her shoulders, and grooved side-to-side. Put her hands up in the air and swept them around in smooth motions. Steve was jumping around, posing, and kneeling to bask up at her. Like she was a real celebrity.

They probably put too much energy into it. If anyone serious was looking at them and compared their moves to the music at hand, they'd probably have said they didn't fit together. But to the two of them, it was how the song was meant to be danced to. It's what was right when everything came down to just Steve and Robin. No one else on the planet was invited.

And just being Steve and Robin was the easiest thing most days.

They made it all the way through the song before Robin nearly collapsed against him in giggles. He put away the phony mic, tossing it somewhere behind him to catch her before they both ended up on their asses. “One Way Or Another” began to fire up, but neither was listening too carefully.

“Thank you,” Robin said, almost out of breath.

“You already said that.” Steve pointed out.

“I know. But seriously,” she grabbed his hand and squeezed it like it was the most tangible lifeline she's ever had,” Thank you. For being my favorite person in the whole world.”

He squeezed her hand back, just as much love expressed in the simple act,” Thank you for being mine.”

Eventually, Robin stood back up on her own two feet. And they decided on that drive-thru meal to offset all the sugar and chocolate they'd had in lieu of a balanced breakfast. And interestingly enough, they also decided on going back to Family Video anyway.

They had no plans to open. More so just get out from under the sun before one of them (Robin) got sunburnt. Maybe even avoid the mosquitoes for the rest of the day. And Robin's Mix played through Steve's stereo the whole drive.

It might've only been Friday, and the nurses might've said they wanted to hold on to Eddie through Tuesday, but he was getting stir-crazy.

He hated, hated, hated just sitting there on that bed. He wasn't supposed to get up and move around too much, lest he desire to face Nurse Tracey's wrath. But it was torture. The tv was no adequate entertainment, and it killed him to know that everyone else had something to do. Some way they were healing or fixing things.

Just “getting better” wasn't a good enough assignment.

Not when there was so much at stake. Not when he was laying down right next to Max, who was stuck where he'd gotten out of. They told him it wasn't the same. But it should've been. They both died, and El brought them both back, and they both got to a hospital. But she wasn't awake.

And it pissed him off so much.

She played decoy, and so did he. And they both did their parts a little too well. But she didn’t get up after.

Wayne dropped in and ate breakfast with him on his way to work. Expressed his sorrow about Eddie's ring. Eddie's mom's ring. His fingertips drifted to his right ring finger where he'd always worn it. Not on the left, because that was the spot dedicated to his own engagement one day.

He missed it. The black gem, cut in too many facets that it caught the light too much. It didn't have the same mystique as domed, smooth onyx that seemed more like a void set in silver than a stone. He'd looked at some in pawn shops and understood the appeal.

But as much as his mom's ring didn't exactly fit the idea of what his aesthetic "should" be, it was better.

And it was gone.

He didn't cry when Wayne mentioned it. Didn't cry when Wayne said he was going to ask around, keep an eye out, and look wherever he could think to. Didn't ruin it for him by saying," I know I wore it into battle. I fucking kissed it before climbing up a twisted version of our trailer and starting my set. So if it's gone, it's gone in another dimension. And, honestly, it was probably eaten by a demobat, given how much they bit at me. So it had to be fucked up for good after sitting in dead monster stomach acid all this time."

No. Eddie just smiled at his uncle. Told him thanks for everything. Said he was going to make it up to him with a spaghetti night when they settled in a new place to call their home again. Wayne smiled and told him not to forget the garlic bread.

"You know that's the best part." he laughed.

Wayne's eyes caught on his watch, and it was time to go. He laid a hand on his boy's shoulder, kissed him on his forehead, and told him to just keep getting better. Try not to worry about anything in the meantime.

Eddie didn't promise him anything.

He finished his re-read of The Hobbit. Sniffled at the end like he always did. He looked over old notes and put together new ones for a campaign. The boys, including Josie and Erica, and even Will, all came by. It was nice.

It wasn't a very complex storyline he'd thought up, but for a one-shot, it would do. The gang of nine players packed around his bed was given the task of sneaking into a masquerade party held in a castle. The queen had received word that her daughter was in danger, but she didn't know who it was. It could've even been a member of their own royal guard. So she'd hired the band of adventurers to make sure the princess would be safe. The hard part was, she'd survived an insane labor of nine. Yup, nonuplets. So there were nine identical princesses to keep an eye on and protect while they tried to find the bad guy. And just as fate would have it, one of them died.

It was only thanks to Will's impeccable notetaking that they figured out it was not actually Daphne in the pale green dress, but Rowena who'd swapped their clothes and taken the place of her sister. A scheme worked up with an assassin she'd fallen in love with to steal the title of "eldest daughter" and have the first claim to the throne. She had been the youngest of nine, after all, she was far down the list before she'd see a crown.

But they solvest the mystery. Earned a good chunk of change from an incredibly distraught royal family who not only lost one child, but a second too. Everyone cheered for each other when they got the confession and defeated the enemies in combat. Tucked away the characters with mentions that it might be nice to dust them off and revisit the theme again another time. Make a regular habit of these Sherlock Holmes-like mysteries dipped in a little bit of fantasy flair and ass-kicking to close it all out.

It was fun. Mostly. But holding the session around his bed, where he felt like he was some weak little thing he didn't think he was… it hurt Eddie in a way he wasn't expecting. It itched against all the other feelings he was holding on to. And he didn't like it.

He was feeling cagey.

So, after they all said their goodbyes, he made a break for it.

Or, more exactly, he told Tracey he had to get out of there and begged for any way to make it happen. She was not happy. Looked at him down her hooked nose, through her thick glasses, from under crumbling mascara that rimmed her eyes. A scornful expression like she was trying to intimidate him into pulling up his covers and saying how much he actually liked it there.

But he stood his ground. And she admitted, him being a legal adult and all, that he could fill out an Against Medical Advice form - meaning he couldn't sue if he fucked himself up for leaving early - and he'd be free. So he asked her, very nicely, to fetch such a document for him. And she did. She still pestered him about calling or coming in the minute he felt bad. To watch himself for a high temperature, upset stomach, sweating or chills, bleeding, puss, or extra sensitivity around the injuries. So he swore up and down he would.

And he made it out.

His car was still at Wayne's hotel, wherever that was exactly, so Eddie just hopped the bus and made it downtown. He didn't have an exact plan, but he was not going to go home. That trailer was practically a fallout zone and wouldn't make for much of a shelter at that point. And he also didn't want to even figure out where Wayne was pitched up at. Because he was bound to go stir crazy there just the same as he had in the hospital.

He ended up on the idea to stop by a certain video store to annoy a certain pair of employees and whatever poor souls decided to shop there on the day Eddie Munson became a truly free man.

“What? Am I not pretty enough for you, Robin?” Steve asked.

His voice dripped with offense, like the discussion at hand was the cruelest thing anyone had ever said to him. They'd been making plans for Robin to ask Vickie on something more obviously a date. To help bridge that gap between girl friends and girlfriends. Robin had suggested something more like what she and Steve do anyway, getting together at someone's house when there are no parents home for a movie. But that also painted what they do as being inherently romantic and she gagged. Now, Steve was on some tirade about being a wonderful date and she should be so lucky.

He leaned against the shop counter and struggled to pop his hip out in a way that could even come close to feminine. But none of the shapes were there, and Robin could only look at him with pity. Not an admission of defeat.

“As much as I love you, Steve…” she tried to soften the blow,” You already know the key thing keeping us apart is my particular interest in…”

”Oh, right.” Steve's tone dropped, and he cupped his hands on his chest as if it was the first time the thought had occurred to him,” Boobies. I don’t have those for you.”

The comment caused Robin to crinkle her nose in a sharp cringe,” Stop calling them that!”

“Why?! It’s what they are! Not my fault you can’t handle the proper word for them!” he pushed.

“ANYWAY!” she tried to take control of the conversation,” I like them a lot, so stop pressing it. It's starting to get really sad.”

“Alright, alright, I'm hearing you, but what if I turned like this.” Steve turned around and arched his back as he shyly looked over his shoulder at Robin. Trying to pull off a more pin-up pose. Like, because she couldn't see his front, she could forget he was missing the pair features they both enjoyed so much. Like it made him girly enough at all.

Robin tried to hold back her snickers at his display. Steve closed his eyes and shook out his hair behind him for effect. He put on a pretend sultry voice before asking her,“ Does this do it for you?”

“What did I just walk in on?” Eddie froze in the open doorway.

As Steve's brain registered that the question didn't come from Robin, he snapped open his eyes and jumped out of the pose. Some kind of less-than-manly shriek flew up from his mouth, and all too quickly he practically tumbled over the countertop and crossed his arms over his chest to cover himself behind it. As if he was even topless in the first place. He wasn't, but he still felt pretty exposed.

“Can't you read the sign?!” Steve griped. A pointer finger shot out to where the “closed” side of the board was clearly facing out the door to any foot traffic on the sidewalk.

Robin was less focused on Steve's cause for concern and complaint. Instead, she joyfully exclaimed,“ Eddie! You’re out of the hospital!”

“Yup, doc declared me as less than ‘healthy as a horse’ but not likely to bleed out at any moment, so I've been released on good behavior for bedrest at my own home while the wounds, you know, do their thing and scar over.”

“If it’s bedrest, shouldn’t you be, ya know… in a bed? Resting?” Steve questioned him. Maybe a little pointedly, but hey, he was allowed to feel a little sour over Eddie walking in on his and Robin's nonsense. That stuff's supposed to be private.

“Didn’t really feel like hitching a ride across town for a quiet hotel room packed with Wayne's and I's stuff while he finishes the rest of his shift.” Eddie excused,” Plus I’d miss out on whatever the hell all this is. So I’ll ask again; what did I just walk in on?”

“Steve’s just really sad that he’s not pretty enough for me.” Robin mused teasingly. Figuring that context was innocuous enough for the present company.

“Oh, man. Tough break, Princess Harrington. My condolences.” Eddie said, putting one hand over his heart and the other on Steve's shoulder like he actually meant to console the man's wounded pride.

Steve swatted away the gesture immediately. And then he decided something new about Eddie being a member of the party.

”You two are insufferable!” he said with a pair of aggressive finger-pointing,” I don't like this duo! I don't need the two of you ganging up on me! It's unfair!”

“Wait till we get Dustin in on the action too. Three on Steve seems like fine odds.” Eddie added just to see the way it made Steve twist up his face. He even started getting a little red!

Through it all, Eddie and Robin found some kind of understanding between the two of them. An understanding of how fun it was to push all of Steve's buttons. And somehow, they still secured invites to his place for dinner. Maybe it was their wicked pair of sad eyes, maybe it was more of that “feeling way too bad for everyone” gene he's got, but Steve let them both pile into his car while he made his way home.

Eddie met their European guests, shook more hands, and made more small talk. And by the end of the meal, Steve would say he narrowly survived the onslaught of teasing. Steve ran Robin back to her place and stayed parked right outside until she buzzed him on the walkie and said she wasn't having a panic attack in her room again and he needed to clear out before someone accused him of stalking. Eddie and Steve laughed, and as the driver wondered where he was sending Eddie off, he admitted he didn't know.

Still hadn't even called his uncle to find out which spot across town he was camped up in.

And somehow… that conversation ended with another invitation to Steve's house. That time, one to spend the night. Eddie was eager to accept. A bustling house of kids and the most random assortment of adults sounded like the exact opposite of falling asleep to the sound of his heartbeat beeping on a machine next to him, and Max's a few feet away.

And thanks to an already stacked dance card - the Byers and Co. on the couch, Joyce and Hop sharing the master, Murray laid claim to the first guest room, the Antonovs in the other - there was really only one place with any spare room without tossing one the injured men to the floorboards.

And that was to partner up and share Steve's bed with him.

It started with Eddie trying to break the ice. Pointing out the grid pattern painted on Steve's walls and hung up on his curtains. Mentioning that it was nothing like how he imagined the King of Hawkins slept. It looked more like a cage than anything else.

Steve shrugged, agreed with the sentiment, and tried to focus on grabbing his own pajama options and getting the night over with. As awkward as it was shaping up to be. But drawing attention to his closet, drew attention to the desk and chair right in front of it. And the denim vest hanging on the back of that chair, which rightfully belonged to Steve's most recent guest.

“There it is!”

Steve turned around and followed Eddie's eyes to the battle vest he'd accidentally borrowed for too long.

“Oh, right! Sorry.” he picked it up from its perch. “Didn't mean to steal it. Just forgot it was there a little.”

“Wow. I let you dress yourself in my battle vest - watching out for your delicate purity so that it might not be besmirched - and you forget about such a deep moment we shared?” Eddie lamented the tragedy. Wondering to himself if it would be too much to try and force a tear.

“I didn't mean I forgot about it like that. Just- I was trying to figure out what to do with it, and I forgot to give it back.” Steve quickly handed it over,” Here.”

Eddie barely looked at the item before he asked,“ What to do with it? That sounds a little spooky. Did you have some kind of black magic spell in mind that you needed it for? You're not gonna steal a lock of my hair after I fall asleep, right?”

“No. Absolutely not. I, just, I was wearing it while I was all gross and sweaty and bleeding, so I figured the same rules as borrowing gym clothes applied, and I should wash it before I gave it back.” Steve tried to explain,” But you have so much stuff on it I didn't want to get ruined, and I wasn't sure how to go about it, and everything has been so insane all the time-”

“I get it. Worry not, Stevie.” Eddie tried to release him from whatever pressure he put on the idea. “Plus you don't really wash a battle vest. It's kinda supposed to go through hell and come out the other side with some authentic grime.”

“But another guy's blood and sweat? That's pretty extreme.” Steve commented. But his face said he leaned more towards 'nasty' than just 'hardcore.'

“You don't understand the culture. That's okay.”

“Alright. Well, then I guess my dilemma turned out for the best.” Steve ducked back into his closet.

Eddie more carefully examined his vest for all the wear and tear it saw. None of the patches or pins looked like they were in danger, but there were some new loose threads he could think about playing with. As he looked it over, he commented with a chuckle,“ Yeah, if you wanna uselessly panic about other stuff and wind up saving the day through inaction, there's the Vecna guy I don't know if you've heard about. I think those magic powers could really speed things along and get us all to summer break in one piece.”

Steve quickly turned out of the hanging garments and urged Eddie,“ Don't let Murray hear you strategize, or he'll barge in and spend an hour actually trying to make a plan out of it.”

He said it so seriously Eddie couldn't even get a response ready while Steve slinked out of the room to go across the hall. To change into the jammies and take care of his nightly routine in the comfort and privacy of his own bathroom. And before Eddie knew it, he was left alone in Steve Harrington's room. Sitting crisscross on the edge of his bed, a pile of denim in his lap, and far too much awareness of how fresh their friendship really was.

The rest of the house had gotten pretty quiet. They'd all turned in for an earlier evening after a long afternoon of work at Hop's cabin and some folks still adjusting their internal clocks to Hawkins time. A big, big house, packed with people, and yet there wasn't much noise.

Steve came back to his room just after a few minutes. He tossed his clothes from the day in a dirty laundry hamper and sat on the other side of the bed. Pushing down the covers before he swung his legs up under them. Eddie followed suit. Standing up to put his vest back on the desk chair for the time being, and climbed into the bed next to his roomie for the night.

And then Eddie and Steve were left to each other. In Steve's bed. Laying still as statues to get some well-deserved rest.

And it was nerve-racking. All of Eddie Munson's nerves were racked. He couldn't help thinking about how the whole situation was so far off the map for him a few weeks ago. On the 22nd of March, Eddie Munson held a broken glass to his neck, and everything's been so strangely on the up and up since. Minus the whole almost-dying part. They'd been forging a bond, a weird one, given such a distinctly separate history. But there they were. Having a sleepover in the famed King's bedroom.

And it wasn't any easier for Steve to deal with. It shouldn’t have been a big deal. It shouldn’t do or mean anything to him. Steve's done this sort of thing with Robin tons of times. Falling asleep next to someone you’re not attracted to should be easy and simple. But it wasn't.

Like, with Robin, they were both allowed to stretch their limbs out in all directions and hug the night away before they tried to kick one another off the bed. But, with Eddie, they were both practically on the edges of the mattress with their backs to each other so they wouldn't accidentally touch or even look at one another. And Steve wasn’t falling asleep. Instead, he felt like he couldn’t move without bothering Eddie.

What if his stitches were still super sore? What if he was lying about the vest and was actually bothered about the condition it was in? What if he was mad about his mom's ring?

And all of a sudden, Eddie started talking.

“You didn’t, by the way.”

Which didn't exactly make any sense as the first thing either of them had said in almost thirty minutes.

“What?”

“Stomp on me.” he clarified.

And it didn't immediately click. But after a second, Steve remembered what he said while Eddie was still in the coma. The part about “I was a bully,” and “I hope I didn't bully you,” but “I wouldn't really remember,” and “Tommy called it stomping on the ants” like that excused any of it. So that was the stomping Eddie was thinking about.

“Oh… so you…“

“Heard that bit?” Eddie finished for him. “Yeah. When our girlie woke me up in my head, some stuff outside started coming through. When there were a lot of you in the room, I couldn’t really follow any of it or understand what you were saying. But you stopped by on your own. Said that bit. It was easy to hear then.”

“Sorry. I honestly didn’t think you’d catch any of it.” Steve tucked his hands in closer to his face. More thankful than anything else that they couldn't see one another for this conversation.

And yet, Eddie joked,“ You planned to waste such a moving monologue on deaf ears? For shame, Harrington, for shame.”

“I just-” he tried again,” I’m sorry-“

But the other wouldn't hear it. “I just said you didn’t do it. Alright? Nothing to waste ‘sorry’ on.”

“But I must have, at some point.” Steve reasoned.

Unsure why his idea was to argue that, no, no, Eddie, actually he did mistreat you, you must be mistaken, think harder. But Eddie didn't waver. His voice was sure and even. And he simply affirmed the fact.

“You didn’t.”

“But-“

“I’ll admit, I convinced myself once or twice that you orchestrated all of it. Sent out your legions of jocks and goons to carry out your dastardly demands for you while keeping your hands clean. But, I know now that I was wrong about that idea.”

And with a pang of guilt that gnawed at his ribs, Steve spoke quietly,“ But I know I’ve said it.”

Freak. He called him The Freak. He knew he did. Hell, he said it just weeks ago when Dustin invited him to the game. He knew that.

But Eddie didn't dwell on it. Didn't deem it the important part.

“Not to me. Not once did you shove my face in it.”

“I’m still sorr-“ but Steve felt a smack on his shoulder. Carefully, he looked over to see that Eddie was laying face up, no longer with his back to Steve. The wall of air between them was gone, in one way or another. So Steve shifted over, joining him in laying back until he was looking up at his ceiling too.

“And do you always do that?” Eddie asked as he tried to get comfortable.

“Do what? Apologiz-”

“Talk through movies?” Eddie interrupted, steering the conversation way out into the left field,” I mean, I was unconscious, but I still heard your whole commentary on Grease. Very strong opinions you have on that one.”

“Okay, Sandy did nothing wrong and shouldn't have had to 'compromise' with Danny at the end just because he lied about their relationship to his guys for points. Had her story been about actually wanting to be less of a goody-two-shoes for her own reasons-”

Eddie stopped him before he really got going,“ That is what I'm talking about. Seriously, dude? And you had something specific to say every minute of it. Was practically watching it with you even with my eyes closed because you'd remind me what beat we were on without fail.”

He bumped into Steve's shoulder with his own. Small laughs bubbled up. And the whole situation didn't feel so awkward and stilted anymore.

“Yeah, I guess.” Steve agreed with a smile,” Rob and I are usually pretty chatty when we watch ‘em together. I think I picked it up from her.”

“Oh, yeah, you’re a real Chatty Cathy, Steve Harrington.”

“That such a bad thing?”

Eddie paused to think on it. But quickly decided otherwise. “Nah. I wouldn’t say so. Felt way less lonely with someone talking.”

Steve felt some pride settle back into himself,“ Then you’re welcome.”

“Oh, great,” he groaned,” Now I went and gave you a big head about it.”

“I think most people would tell you I already had one.” Steve pointed out.

“A big, stupid head.” Eddie took a finger and poked Steve right on the side of his forehead. But before Steve could really say anything else, he tugged the blanket up and rolled over in the bed. His back was up again, but it didn't feel so insurmountable. It was comfortable.

“Go to sleep,” he commanded. As if he wasn't the one that started their discussion in the first place.

Steve rolled onto his own side,” You go to sleep.”

A comeback fit for a first grader. My, how the mighty have fallen. But sometimes falling could be a good thing. Brings a person back down to Earth. Reminds them of all the other people that didn't climb too tall on their high horse.

And that kind of falling, the kind that Steve Harrington did, didn't make him shatter into broken pieces on the ground.

Some parts of a person need to break. Explicitly so they can put themselves back together. And maybe the breaks were always going to be there. But maybe he'd be the better for it. Maybe they all would.

[space-mango-company]

Stranger | Chapter 5

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

TW: Descriptions of Violence, Mentions of Cannibalism

Tags: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader, Arranged Marriage, Eventual Smut, POV Second Person, No use of y/n, Original Characters, Canon What Canon

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Not proofread!! Holy moly. Here it is, folks. The scene that inspired this whole fic. I had fun writing this so I really hope you enjoy it. Once again, I appreciate everyone who likes, comments, and/or leaves kudos so much. I really started this fic for myself but good golly, that dopamine rush whenever I get a notif might be more addicting than spice. I'm glad to be part of the bald man brigade.

Also, I can't believe I'm only now questioning why I decided to write this in the second person? I guess maybe I thought this fic would be a lot shorter and not that deep, lol. At this point 'y/n' probably has enough personality to just be a straight-up OC. It's funnier because I don't even find second-person or y/n fics any more engaging either. I always detach myself by giving 'y/n' her own name and only seeing her as a character in the fic.

ANYWAY, sorry to ramble. Stay safe and have a good one, ya weirdos.

You step out into the dark cul-de-sac of the guest hall, illuminated only by the large suspensor lamp in the middle. Feyd-Rautha looks you up and down, seemingly entranced by how the dim light casts his shadow on your modest dress. Atreides green, he recognized.

"Trying to sneak into my rooms again?" you say arms crossed, leaning on your door. "I didn't appreciate the last time, by the way."

"It's my house," he says cooly, "and I did knock this time."

You stare at him indifferently.

"Quite the display from you yesterday morning, using The Voice on me." His voice low and raspy, "I should have you drawn and quartered."

You scoff in his face. "You almost choked me to death. Are you trying to start a war?"

He takes a step closer and his face is inches from yours, you can feel his breath on your cheek, "I didn't think I'd like you this much, little hawk."

"What do you want, Feyd-Rautha?" you had no patience for him right now.

"Ah," he steps back, a dark smile on his face, "I've been waiting to hear my name from your tongue." His hand reaches for your lips. "I've grown quite tired of 'na-Baron'."

You grab his wrist before he can touch you. "If you're only here to toy with me, I would rather be left alone to prepare for bed." You release his hand and turn to open your door.

Feyd-Rautha props an arm against the doorway to block you. "We're to be married in three days," he says, "and I just can't seem to bring myself to let go of my 'harpies', as you called them." He meets your gaze. "You said you'd kill them. Did you mean that?"

You look up at him with steely eyes. He towered over you but your heart felt no fear, "Yes."

His coy smile returns. "Good. Come to my training hall tomorrow," he says, walking away.

"What?" you call after him.

"Dress to fight," he says over his shoulder. "I want to see what you can do, Atreides."

You needed no help from Zora in putting on a loose shirt and long pants. The plain beige outfit certainly wasn't as elegant as the dresses you had been wearing so far. But it was comfortable and you could fight in it, which was all that mattered. Still, you look yourself in the mirror. The soft, airy fabrics draped over your figure well but perhaps you were not in the best shape as you once were. Your muscle mass is much less than your brother's and he wasn't particularly built himself. You admit you did wane off your training sessions with Gurney and Paul leading up to your departure from Caladan. Nevertheless, you were still a skilled warrior. Another secret you've been keeping from the Harkonnens.

You were 14 when you started learning the blade. Watching Paul, 2 years your senior, practice with the Atreides Warmaster lit a fire in you. You didn't hesitate to pester your father to let you train with them and of course, there was nothing he could deny his darling daughter. You were a fierce and determined student. Gurney Halleck was a man you genuinely believed to be one of the best fighters in the Imperium, along with Duncan Idaho. Gurney would train you and Paul on even days. On odd days, your mother would teach you the Weirding Way. These lessons, much like the rest of your mother's teachings, your father wanted to know nothing about. After becoming decently adept at Prana-Bindu and gaining almost complete physical control of your body, Lady Jessica insisted that you also be skilled in the Bene Gesserit style of combat.

You were far from mastery in either but the combination of both trainings made you a formidable fighter. Despite this, you could never seem to beat your brother in a sparring match. A fact that frustrated you to no end, though you appreciated that Paul never went easy on you. You'd always blame it on him having trained for longer than you have. But in truth, you knew there had just always been something special about him.

"Are you ready, my lady?" Zora's soft voice wakes you from your thoughts.

"Hm? Right. Yes, let's go." You quickly tie your hair out of the way and grab your father's dagger from atop your dresser.

There was no fanfare when you entered the hall. On one end, the na-Baron's concubines sat chained on the steps of the shallow recessed pit in their leathers, their glares piercing through you. Your eyes linger on them as Feyd-Rautha and his Warmaster greet you.

"I was starting to think my lady bride was bluffing," Feyd-Rautha says as you approach him. The older man beside him offers you a polite bow.

"Perhaps she wasn't so keen on your brutish games," you bite back. "Your lord uncle won't be joining us?"

"No," Feyd-Rautha crosses his arms, "but he'll be hearing about your victory. Or your demise."

"Right. Well, I assume you'll be releasing them from those chains," you nod towards his pets "Not sure why they're necessary."

"Oh, trust me, little hawk. They're necessary." Feyd-Rautha motions to a servant.

"Your blade and shield, my lady," they bow, presenting you with a knife and a small device you recognize as a Holtzman shield.

"I've brought my own," you unsheath your father's dagger. You contemplate taking the shield but remembering that the na-Baron forwent it during his gladiator fight, you decide to do so as well. "They've no weapons anyway, the shield seems pointless."

Feyd-Rautha shrugs, "If you insist."

You take a deep breath, "Let's get this over with."

You lightly stretch as you walk down the steps of the shallow pit to stand opposite the na-Baron's concubines. You had come into this on the pretense of righteousness. For Iassa, you told yourself. But you've known her a mere two days. A part of you wanted to show off. You were good and you knew it. You could probably kill anyone in this room, even Feyd-Rautha. You craved the respect of the people here: the Harkonnens, the people of Geidi Prime. You figured this was one way to get it.

Feyd-Rautha walks around the pit to one of his concubines and kneels to whisper something in her ear. You assume a fighting stance when he moves to release her from the chains. When you meet her eyes, they are filled with feral bloodlust.

Suddenly, you weren't so bold. The veil of courage you have maintained since you arrived, even when Feyd-Rautha had your neck in his grip, is torn apart when you face this woman. You could tell no part of her would hesitate to rip your throat out with her bare teeth. You were almost relieved they were unarmed, but you weren't sure if that would make them any less lethal.

Fear grew in your chest and you had less than a moment to recite the Litany in your head before the concubine lunged at you.

You crouch down in time and slash at her abdomen as she approaches you. You turn to face her on the other side of the pit and she wastes no time in attacking you again. She attempts to grab your armed hand but you take hold of her wrist first and move to pin it behind her back. Quickly, your blade drags across her throat and she falls to your feet.

The kill has not yet registered in your mind but your heart is racing. You can almost hear your blood coursing through your veins. You held your arms outstretched, your eyes focused ahead, ready for the next one.

Across the pit, Feyd-Rautha licks his lips, smiling as he releases his second concubine. This time, you walk toward her while she moves to attack you. You clock her head with the pommel of your dagger and knock her a few steps back. She reaches a hand to wipe the blood beginning to drip out of her nose. After examining it, she snarls and bares her sharp teeth at you. Your mind is blank now. She dodges your first slash then manages to land a blow to your jaw. You seethe from the pain. You spit out the mixture of blood and saliva filling your mouth. The anger at the hit drives you to rush at her. Seeing an opening, you duck down to her waist and stab her twice. As she falls to her knees, the look of determination doesn't leave her eyes until the very last moment.

When you turn around, Feyd-Rautha has already released the last concubine. The ruthless scream she lets out disorients you. She pounces and knocks you over. She straddles you and pins your arms to the ground, your blade sliding inches away. She screams again in your face at the death of her sisters. You wedge your right knee between you and her abdomen, the only thing keeping her teeth from reaching your throat. You grunt as you struggle to free your hands. In your periphery, you see Feyd-Rautha, wielding his own blade, take a step into the pit.

"GET BACK," you roar, and he is powerless to refuse.

You turn back to your opponent still on top of you and you butt her head with your own. She loosens her grip and you kick her off to hastily crawl to your weapon. When she reorients herself and attempts to grab you again, you hook a knee under her arm and flip the both of you over. With your weight on her chest and both your knees pinning her arms down, she thrashes underneath you, claws digging into your right ankle. You take your blade in both hands and her screaming is silenced when you sink your knife deep into her heart.

When you rise, the room is quiet. Your chest heaves. The stark white ceiling lights don't help the lightheadedness that begins to wash over you in the post-adrenaline rush. Feyd-Rautha says something from behind you but his speech is garbled as you reel from the thrill of what just transpired. You were electrified. You almost... wanted more.

Then, the realization of the revolting scene you are in settles upon you and you are knocked off your high. You look at the leather-clad bodies scattered around you, the grotesque way they lay on the floor, the red blood pooling around them made brighter by the sterile grayness of the room. You did this.

A hand on your shoulder snaps you out of it. In reflex, you turn and raise your blade at the offender.

Feyd-Rautha holds his hands up, "Whoa, easy, Atreides. Trying to kill me? Don't want to start a war, do you?"

You yield your weapon. Your eyes dodge his as you look to your feet and try to steady your breathing.

"Enjoy your first taste of blood?" Feyd-Rautha says, the look in his eyes indecipherable to you. He raises a hand and swipes his thumb on your cheek. It comes away covered in crimson.

You gasp and reach for your face with your own hand. You don't even know if it's your blood or theirs, or when it got on you. Your heart pounded, unable to decide whether you were repulsed or proud.

"Look at you," he says licking the red off his finger. You could not help but stare at him through the strands of your hair that had come undone in the fighting. "You're beautiful like this," his hand reaches for your face again.

"No," you say low and quiet when you swat his hand away, "you're sick." You didn't know if you meant him or yourself. You calmly turn to leave. No one stops you when you make your way up the shallow steps of the pit. As you pass Iassa—no, Zora—by the doorway, you tell her flatly, "Prepare a bath."

You had never taken a life before. Today, you took three. You were glad you didn't know their names. You decided you'd never find out.

After Zora pours a final pitcher of hot water into the bath, you tell her, "You may go. I'll dress myself later, thank you."

She bows and makes her way out of your rooms.

In your solitude, you bring your knees to your chest. You had been quick to wipe the blood off your cheek before you even reached your quarters. Now, you cup the water into your hands and rub it into your face, the slight sting of the heat comforting you.

He was a cruel man, your betrothed. This is what you've decided. Having you kill the concubines he claimed to want to keep so much. But wasn't it you who threatened to kill them? He started it, you argue with yourself, when he had Iassa killed. You felt like a child.

When you used to hear of Feyd-Rautha's exploits, you had to mask your disgust. And yet now, you had killed so easily in that pit as he had in the arena. What was this place doing to you?

When you left Caladan, Paul had never killed anyone either. You wonder if he ever does, would he feel the same exhilaration you did when you slit that first concubine's throat. No. Your brother was fierce but, like your father, he had a good heart. You beat him by three. You hoped it would stay that way.

You think about your future here, marrying Feyd-Rautha. Producing heir after heir under the Baron's watchful eye. You were a broodmare. Despite all your fancy training and education. Despite your little demonstration earlier. It was the bitter truth.

You missed home. You missed walking along the beach at night with your father. You missed your mother's gentle hands brushing your hair. You missed the banter and teasing with your brother. You missed Gurney, and Duncan, and the cold breeze on your balcony, and getting to roam free and going anywhere you pleased. When the tears come, you sink deep into the bath so they might fade away in the water.

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

Taglist: @torchbearerkyle @austinswhitewolf @dreamlandcreations @emeraldsgirl @strawberryfieldsforevermore @bornslippys @vexis-world @aoi-targaryen @alexandrainlove @mamawiggers1980 @sstardussty @aboutthenabaron

[minus-plus-zer0]

OKAY! i have another one!! so hear me out. i’ve been really into alice in wonderland and.. what about like. a cheshire cat! reader? like they have their own subliminal space to enter and can do so with some of their body or their whole body and has cat like fangs, ears, tail. whose mischievous and stuff!! sorry thats a rant!!

or like a white rabbit! whose sweet and caring! and has rabbit ears and a rabbit tail and their quirk is to warp time??

Oh dear, I knew never watching Alice in Wonderland was going to bite me in the butt someday.

I'll still try and fulfill your request though! I can only do the white rabbit one though since I have a pretty good idea for how to write them. It'll be a bit long though to make up for not being able to write the cheshire cat reader. This took a while to publish since I had like 2-3 ideas for what to write but I hope the end result is good enough.

As always thank you for requesting!

Alice in Wonderland White Rabbit Reader x Bakugou

♡ Genre: Fluff, little suggestive, little crack ♡ Pairing: Bakugou x White Rabbit!Reader ♡ Tags: Alice in Wonderland inspiration

Your Quirk allowed you to summon telekinetic shields, all of which had the appearance of a watch and functioned like real time clocks. You could defend yourself with the shields or telekinetically spin the shields to go back in time by a few minutes. Because you were born with such a useful power, you knew you had to be a Pro Hero to use time travel for the sake of the greater good.

You often helped out your classmates on the field, including Bakugou Katsuki. You two were total opposites. Due to the nature of your Quirk, you were incredibly patient and cautious, always paying attention to the slight differences in the timeline each time you changed things. Bakugou was neither of those things, and always got into trouble. You often had to warn him of problems oncoming in the near future.

Despite your differences (or maybe because of them), you two quickly grew closer than any other duo in your class. You relied on each other heavily not just due to your Quirks, but also your complementary personalities. Just this afternoon, you had to save Bakugou from his impending demise.

"Bakugou!" you cried, hurrying to him as he sat on the dorm's living room couch. "Kaminari's gonna burst in through the entrance doors with a homemade confetti gun and he's gonna blast you in the face. We need to run!"

Bakugou set down the magazine he was reading on the coffee table. "I'm gonna kill him."

"No, please don't! We need to run!"

"I'll kill him and then neither of us will have to run! I'm saving us a jog!"

"No, you don't understand, he'll--"

"Bakugouuuu!" Kaminari yelled, bursting onto the scene. "Where are yoouuuuu?"

"You're dead, Dunce Face!"

"What the--who snitched on me to Bakugou? Agh!" Kaminari narrowly dodged an explosion by Bakugou. "Hasta la vista, Bakugou!"

You ducked behind the couch. Bakugou received a full confetti blast to the face. You sighed and summoned your time shields. You rewound time back to when Bakugou sat on the couch.

"Bakugou!" you cried, popping up behind the couch.

"AH! Fuck, shit, why the hell are you back there?"

You hurried around the couch. "Maybe because you didn't listen to me when I warned you the first time!"

He looked confused. "Is this something future me did?"

"Yes. Kaminari's about to come through the entrance with a confetti gun and we really, really need to run."

Bakugou set down the magazine he was reading on the coffee table. "I'm gonna kill him."

Bakugou stood up but you placed a hand on his chest, pushing him back. "Please, I've already seen you get blasted with confetti more than I've ever hoped to see in one lifetime. Just run."

"But I--"

"Bakugouuuu!" Kaminari yelled, bursting onto the scene. "Where are yoouuuuu?"

You grabbed Bakugou's wrist and summoned your time shields, spinning them and sending you both back into time. Kaminari walked backwards out of the entranceway as you returned to the past.

"I probably should've done that in the first place..." you said.

"I could've taken him!" Bakugou yelled.

You groaned and dragged Bakugou away from his impending doom. He kept protesting but didn't leave your grasp. He knew if he left your grasp, you'd just rewind time and stop him all over again.

You hurried over to the nearest small closet and shoved Bakugou inside the cramped space, shutting the door behind you two. The closet was only filled with a few random items people left behind, such as an unused deck of playing cards, a large dresser somebody left there long ago, and other unrelated things. You barricaded the door with the dresser. You knew your classmates wouldn't destroy school property just for a joke, so there was no way they'd be physically busting that door down if they couldn't open it normally.

"Why the fuck can't we just hide in one of our rooms?" Bakugou asked, leaning against a wall. The closet was small enough that he was still within arm's distance of you.

"Because that was one of the first places they looked in a previous timeline," you said matter-of-factly. "And Kaminari's not the only one searching for you with a homemade confetti gun."

"Our classmates are such nutjobs."

"Yes, but they're still our friends!" You lightly tapped Bakugou on the nose.

"You mean your friends." He tapped you back on the nose, somewhat more vengefully. "If I had it my way, our problems would've been buried six feet under ages ago."

"Well they're not, and now we're stuck in a closet." You rapped your knuckles on the closet walls. "There's not a lot of safe hiding spots, so let's just wait here until they pick another target and/or run out of confetti. I'm pretty sure they're gonna start blasting each other. I overheard them suggesting that in a different timeline and they were getting a teensy bit antsy until they found you."

Bakugou scoffed. "See? This is why I don't wanna call these nutjobs 'friends'!"

"But we eat lunch with them almost everyday..."

"I'm only there because you're there."

"Lies."

"Not lies. I never lie."

You both stood there, staring each other down suspiciously. You simultaneously both broke into grins.

Bakugou laid his head against the closet wall. "I'm being honest, you know that?"

You rubbed you arms, a little shy due to his earnestness. "You don't have to follow me around everywhere, you big dork..." You lightly punched him in the shoulder.

"You're the one that yanked me into a closet."

"I just want to protect you!" you said. "You know I don't like seeing people get hurt."

"I know I've told you this a million times, but stop worrying about me, okay?" He stopped leaning against the closet wall and got a little closer, which was easy since the space was so cramped. "You're always running yourself ragged for me."

"Only because I know you'd do the same." You beamed at him.

"Yeah... why do you think that is?"

"Huh?"

"...Nevermind. Shit, if we're gonna be in here for a while we need something to pass the damn time. My phone's almost dead."

"Mine too," you whined. "Let's sit down, I'm tired."

You both slid into a sitting position, your legs in-between Bakugou's.

"Since we got all the time in the world, quite literally with my time powers, I kiiiinda wanna style your hair!"

"What the fuck? No!"

"Pleeeease?" Your hands ran through the fluffy spiky locks before you. His eyes peered up at you, surprisingly innocent and curious as to what you would do to him. "I think you'd look really cute with a braid. I've been reading some fashion blogs and it'd look super trendy!"

"It'd look bad. Don't wanna. I'd rather do your hair." His hand curled behind your head, pulling you forward to him. "Yours is softer." He looked at you, cocky and teasing.

Sometimes Bakugou did things like this that really made you question the true nature of your friendship. You were the only person to seemingly see Bakugou's... flirty side? Was this flirting? You couldn't tell with him. You didn't know if he was being serious or not, given that he's never dated before you had no point of reference on how he would react in a situation like that. So this couldn't be flirting. Yeah, that's it.

But the way Bakugou was looking at you, all smug yet simultaneously a little flushed and nervous, made you doubt that thought. Just a little.

"Well?" Bakugou asked, his voice low. His hand was still in your hair, his head was still so close to yours. "What do you wanna do?"

You knew what you wanted to do. You've wanted to kiss your best friend for the longest time. But one thing you would never do was kiss and rewind. You couldn't live comfortably knowing that you got intimate with someone, but they just forgot. It felt wrong to mess with their memory like that. So you had never kissed Bakugou before.

You couldn't tell him that, you couldn't risk your friendship. Shyly, your hands exited his hair as you brought them back close to your chest. "Um... I don't know... I'm fine with anything you want, I guess?"

"But I was asking you, dummy!" He exhaled through his nose, his hand leaving your hair. "Again, I'm serious here. You're always thinking about what I want to do, what's best for me. But what do you want to do with your life? I won't judge you for your answer, if that's what you're thinking."

"Um..." You bit your lip, wanting to look anywhere but at Bakugou but there was really nothing to look at in this small closet space. "Well, if you really insist... I kinda wanted to kiss you."

"W-w hat?!" His face heated up.

"Like, everywhere. It's 'cause you've never had your first kiss before, so I wanted to see your reaction to a million different kisses with my time powers. But I know that's not cool, so I've never done it. I didn't want to bother you or ruin our friendship..."

"Try me."

"What?!"

"You heard me!" Bakugou started sweating a little but nonetheless, he wasn't backing down. "Do you damn thing. It's not like I'm gonna remember it."

"Bakugou, that's not exactly moral."

"It's moral if I'm telling you I'll allow it. I trust you and I wanna see what timeline we end up with."

If he was giving you the go-ahead, then you assumed this was okay...

"I'll be gentle at first, alright? I would never wanna hurt you..."

He looked a little frustrated, as if you weren't understanding something.

"...You won't."

You cupped his face and his eyes widened slightly. You wanted to give him his first kiss (it's been your dream for a while), but you'd rather dip your toes into the water than dive deep head first. So you leaned up and kissed him on the nose.

Bakugou perked his head up. "What?! I thought you--don't chicken out!"

"I'm not chickening out, I'm just testing the waters..."

"On the nose isn't the same! You gotta--"

You rewound time to before he started complaining. You returned to your new present time, giggling a little.

"...The hell?" he asked, still sitting in front of you awaiting his first kiss. "...Were you gentle?"

"No," you said, evilly. "You almost died of a heart attack from how good a kisser I was and I had to rewind to a point where you didn't die."

Bakugou cocked his head, looking at you deadpan. "Now why don't I believe you?"

You snapped forward and kissed his cute vulnerable forehead. He gasped.

"You'll believe me eventually!" you said, acting coy.

"You little--"

You rewound time to a point where he didn't want to retaliate against your sudden sweet kiss.

"Wha--you look too damn happy!" Bakugou said, pointing at you accusingly. "What the fuck did you do?"

"Bakugou, you told me it was your first time kissing..." you said, hands on your face looking shy as you turned away from him. "You didn't have to go that far..."

"What the fuck are you on about? I don't even remember what you're referencing! Just... what... what did we do?"

He looked genuinely anxious and you wanted to burst out into laughter because you literally did almost nothing besides a few kisses, but he didn't know that.

"Something like this," you said.

You cupped his face again and pulled his head forward, kissing him on the lips. You started soft, wanting your kiss to be something he could safely fall into. But he quickly bit your lip and pushed himself in, not settling for anything safe. The sensation was much better than whatever you'd daydreamed about, especially knowing that he wanted this, that this was real, and that his lips kept asking yours for more.

Bakugou moved much more eagerly and desperately than you. What he lacked in experience, he made up for by going all-in, all the time. He just wanted everything, all of you, all at once. But you were more focused on taking everything slow to make sure he enjoyed every second of your lips as much as possible. Your fingers dug through his hair, while one of his hands snaked around your waist to pull you further into his lap and your mind couldn't help but agree with all of it.

You broke the kiss and you both breathed heavily in each other's faces. Bakugou looked so incredibly vulnerable and exposed in the dim closet lighting, his mouth slightly open in surprise.

"Do you wanna settle on that timeline?" you asked.

"No." His mouth quickly morphed into smirk. "Keep going. I wanna see how far this rabbit hole goes. How many times you'll kiss me and still come back for more."

With his permission, you rewound time again to the same spot as usual, right after the point where Bakugou gave you the approval you needed for this idea. Once you emerged, Bakugou gave an undignified yelp.

His back instinctively hit the closet wall. "Shit! The fuck are you doing in my lap?" He eyed you up and down.

You curled up into a ball, still between his legs. "You pulled me here! It's your fault!"

"I did?" He looked so genuinely confused, it was so cute. But then he soon returned to his arrogant self. "Oh, I see. Of course you must've let me drag you in. You really are--"

You shut him up with your lips. He gasped in your mouth, frozen in place from the shock. But as your hands crawled up his neck, he sunk further into your embrace as he realized what you were doing. Then he pushed back, turning this kiss competitive. You just wanted him to stop mouthing off all the time, but he wanted to show he wasn't easily gonna surrender this moment, not when you were finally giving him the attention he so desperately craved. Bakugou kissed you with much more force than you ever gave him, his hands greedy with you knowing he was able to hold you after waiting so, so long. You broke through his waves of passion by biting his lip lightly to catch him off guard and slowing him down.

Your hands slowly danced around the collar of his shirt, feeling his rapid heart beat before you tugged him towards you. Now your sweeter lips could find better purchase upon his rougher ones. His lips mixed somewhat clumsily with yours, his technique suffering from the intensity of his nervousness and passion. His body felt like a jumbled bundle of nerves against your own. But his kisses oozed his personality, all the good and the bad, that you just couldn't help but want more of him, no matter what he gave you.

This kiss was longer, allowing you both to get your fill before you separated, both gasping for air.

"I think that was the best one so far," you said.

"Knowing you, you're only saying that 'cause you haven't tried anything else."

He got you there. The day had barely begun.

"I see that look on your face," he said, tapping your forehead which was so close to his. "I'm betting I'm right. You wouldn't look so shy in my arms right now if you've kissed me a lot more. But you're clearly not as shy as before..."

"Stop reading my mind, Bakugou, that's not supposed to be your Quirk!" You pouted at him, crossing your arms.

"Then rewind so you don't gotta hear me speak!"

"Well... I don't really want to. Maybe I want you to remember this. Maybe I don't want to be the only one who knows what these kisses were like... It's not what I thought it would be. Rewinding to catch your first kiss isn't as fun as making sure you share all the memories I have." Your hand ran through his spikes. His expression was so tender when you touched him. "So I really want you to remember this next part, okay?"

He stared at you. He nodded.

You slowly drew upon him, backing him against the wall as you leaned forward to kiss him. You felt his body automatically stiffen before you met each other half-way. His hands remained on your hips, copying your careful pace as you drank his lips in, savoring his sensations and showing him how much you wanted every memory you made with him.

Instead of fighting you or teasing you, he followed your lead, letting your mouth move upon his however you wanted it to. He let you take control of him. Bakugou bit your lip, just as you did to him earlier, giving the kiss a little more spice. As your hands dipped around his neck, his hands mirrored yours around your waist. He didn't rush through the kiss this time, didn't rush to see everything you had to offer as soon as possible like he was so starved for your affection. Now he wanted to do whatever you were doing, and to be with you wherever you were going.

His strong arms tightly pulled you against him as you continued your slow-motion makeout session. You wanted to relive this moment seconds after it started, but you didn't dare use your time powers so he wouldn't forget.

You finally let him breathe again, your foreheads still touching even though you parted. He gazed down upon you, lovingly.

"You gotta be my girlfriend after this," he said, voice quiet. "...Please? You can't tell me that meant nothing."

"Yes..." you said, and he served you the cutest smile you'd ever seen. "I wanna be with you, always. Just like we are now."

"Of fucking course." He laughed a little out of relief as he pecked your jaw a few times. You knew he'd never kissed anyone anywhere before, but damn was he a fast learner when he was copying you. He also couldn't help but give you one last hug, squeezing you like a stuffed animal.

He finally released you from the hug, his hands still clung to your body. "I'll always be with ya. Never wanted anything more. Jeez, I've been waiting for you to say that since forever."

You pecked him on the nose. "Guess I was just a little late. But you've probably been waiting as long as I have for you." He grinned warmly at you for that comment.

"Can we spend the afternoon hiding in here?" you asked. "I kind of don't want to leave... Not while they're still out there."

"I still think I could take 'em," Bakugou said.

"No offense, but from what I've seen I know you definitely can't take them. I'm saving you by keeping you in here." You poked his chest.

He looked exasperated with the suggestion. "Saving me, huh?" He pecked you on the forehead. "Well fine! I didn't wanna leave this spot anyways." He gave your hips a few appreciative pats. "I'll stay wherever you are. You're the only one I'd let boss me around like this, got it? I still trust ya so much."

"Gotcha! Here, hold onto me. I wanna rewind so we'll have more time together..."

You squeezed Bakugou's hand as you summoned your time shields again, rewinding further back.

However, you didn't notice that you had rewound time too far, moving the dresser back to its original position.

It wasn't until several minutes later that you realized your mistake. You and Bakugou made just a bit too much noise, leading to Kaminari opening the closet door.

"Hasta la vista, Bakugou!"

And you both were shot with confetti, full blast.

(Fun fact: The reader's Quirk was partially based off of a certain characters' time powers from Puella Magi Madoka Magica as well as the White Rabbit's watch, so it might seem familiar to some)

[satorusugurugurl]

I Think He Knows: (Chapter Eight)

Summary: When your novel takes off and becomes a best seller, doors of opportunities open for you. You can work on the series you have dreamed about all your life. And you’re also given the chance to stay in a tiny cottage in Europe for two years to help with inspiration! Your best friend, Geto Suguru, shatters at the news. How could he tell you how he feels when you leave him? His opportunity appears right before him when you confess that your editor thinks a change of scenery will help with your not-so-steamy romance scenes. They’re lacking a particular spice because you’re a virgin. So, Suguru does what any best friend would do. He offers to teach you how things work. Will you cross that line as friends? Or will you both say goodbye?

Pairing: Geto Suguru x FAB!Reader

Word Count: 4,759

Warning: nightmares, mentions of character death, panic attack, night terror, blood, PTSD, suvivor guilt Language, suggestiveness, grinding, neck kisses, dry humping,

A/N: oh man!! We have three parts left after this update, maybe two. Still plotting out the last chapters!!

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven

Suguru knew something was wrong with you. Something was up the second you both boarded your plane as you mindlessly stared at your computer screen. He wanted to believe that maybe something happened with your agent or you were stuck doing rewrites, but his anxiety told him you were beginning to regret your decision to come with him. He didn’t want to hold you back if staying in Tokyo with something you wanted to do. He wanted you to follow your dreams.

He just needed to figure out how to bring it up.

However, that seemed like a terrible way to start this trip. He should be elated, jumping with joy over the fact that he spent time with you. You were going to be living together for the next four months. It would be if there were any time to tell you how he felt now. If he could muster up the courage to do that, he would follow his friend's advice, preferably today or tonight, once you guys got to your condo.

Suguru was going to tell you how he felt finally. He was going to be upfront and honest. He didn’t want to be your friend anymore. He would much rather be your boyfriend if you would accept him.

If he continued to beat around the bush, there was a chance he would lose you. That was something he could not afford to do. Losing you would be like losing part of his soul.

For now, he just needed to keep things lighthearted and stress-free. Which would be easier if you weren’t mindlessly staring at your computer screen. Your eyes were slightly swollen, and your manicured nails tapped against the side of your laptop as the word seemed to evade you, seeing you were so lost in thought.

Without thinking, Suguru reached over and gently grabbed your hand, holding it tight, drawing you out of your fantasy world and back into reality. Your tired, swollen eyes glanced down at your conjoined hands, and for the first time since you boarded the plane, you smiled. It wasn’t the fake smile that you had put on since you both sat down. No, this was your genuine, honest smile.

Which made his whole heart sing.

“You okay?” Suguru asked as you pulled your headphones up to listen to him.

“Oh yeah, I have a nasty case of writer's block. I hope going to the beach when we get there will help.”

Hearing you speak so freely about the issues you were having lifted some of the tension on Suguru’s shoulders. Knowing that you were just stuck in writer's block and not regretting your decision to join him, he slumped back against his chair as his fingers slowly interlaced with yours. He was afraid if he moved any faster, you would disappear.

“I’m sorry, having a blockage like that sucks. Is there anything I can do to help?”

A flush crept across your cheekbones and over the bridge of your nose. “H-Here?” The shushed, almost reprimanding tone of your voice had your best friend smirking. “W-We’re in public! And people would catch us.” Suguru gave your hand another reassuring squeeze.

“I didn't mean like that. Is there anything I could do to help you get through your writer's block?”

“Oh,” your flush deepened in color, “right, yeah, you didn’t mean us fucking in the bathroom.”

Fucking?

You hadn’t noticed the word you had used, but your best friend did. None of your sessions thus far had gone farther than touching and dry humping. So, for you to outwardly say something like that, it was entirely out of left field. Suguru’s cheek flushed a rosey shade as you continued to ramble on about how there were no planes in your fantasy world, and you didn’t see how that would help with your writer's block but profusely thankful for his offer.

Fucking?

That word had been something he was familiar with countless times before. He had had his share of partners in the past, but you were different. You weren’t just some girl. You were his best friend, and you deserve the absolute best. Fucking, was something he never wanted to do with you. No, Suguru wanted to make love with you.

Love. Making love. That sounded so much better than fucking. Making love sounded like something you were so deserving of.

“Suguru?” Your free hand reached forward, touching his forehead with the back of your hand. “Are you okay? You look a little flushed.”

“Oh, yeah, I uh—it’s just a bit warm in here.” it sounds like a bullshit excuse because it is a bullshit excuse.

You just softly grin, dropping your hand down to cup his face. The gentle touch alleviates all the stress and thoughts continuously forming in Subaru’s mind. He finds himself in the back of your hand, leaning into your touch. Everything would be okay as long as he had you by his side.

He could return to Okinawa and paint a mural of a girl he had failed. He might be able to go back to the street where she had died eventually. And he would tell you how he felt.

All because you were with him.

Even though you were by his side, he found himself shaking as he looked out at the ocean as the taxi drove you both to the condo you would call Home for the next four months. Thoughts of Riko and Gojo playing with sea cucumbers on the beach and enjoying soba noodles at a restaurant just up the shoreline, there were a lot of memories in this place, ones that had been fueling his nightmares for years.

Before those dark thoughts could dig their claws into his arms, pulling him under, you leaned your body against his back, peering out the window with him. “Whoa, look at those waves!” Your breath fans against his cheek before you press your face against his. “We should go for a walk tonight once we’re all settled in!” As he had thought on the plane, you were doing exactly what he knew—making this whole excursion easier for him to process.

“Yeah, a walk sounds nice.”

Anything involving you sounds nice. The remainder of the ride to the condo is quiet. A peaceful, calm, serene, until you're dropped off at the condo building. That relaxed, tranquil feeling is replaced with a sense of excitement, especially when you both walk inside.

The condo was a one-bedroom, one-bath, one-bath condominium with a living room, kitchen, and balcony. What made it even better was that it was fully furnished with all the necessary furniture and necessities. Making it a perfect home away from home for the next few months. Suguru stepped inside, holding the door open for you, watching your eyes sparkle as you kicked your sandals off, running across the polished wood flooring. You made a beeline for the balcony window, your back straightened before your world around to face him as he shut the door.

“Suguru! We’re super close to the beach! We should go for that walk later tonight!”

The excitement planted across your face and thick in your voice had Suguru’s heart fluttering. “Yeah, weekend. I have to call the aquarium first and let them know we made it.”

“Hell yeah! I’ll go start unpacking!”

Suguru chuckled, watching as you carried all the bags to the bedroom. He quickly called his employer. Much like he thought this time in Okinawa would involve a lot of working and less playing. The aquarium Director wanted to stop in the office to discuss what they wanted and where the mural would be. They had also been kind enough to purchase all the supplies for him. Paints, brushes, ladders, everything he could want or need would be provided.

The director wanted Suguru to take the rest of the day off to settle in before you came in the next day, which was great—having a day off. Which meant he would be able to spend it with you. Maybe if things went right tonight, he could finally tell you how he felt because he was getting tired of hiding behind some bullshit excuse to ‘help’ you with your book.

“Hey,” Suguru tapped his knuckles against the door frame as he shoved his phone into his pocket. “So the aquarium said that we could—” When he enters the room, you glance up from your phone, and Suguru can see tears swelling in your eyes. His heart drops into his stomach as you quickly wipe at the falling tears. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing. I’m okay!”

“Please don’t lie to me.”

The talent of his voice leaves no room for arguments, which she’s anticipating you giving him. “Sugu.” But instead of arguing with him, you smile, blushing yourself off the bed before grabbing his hand. “I was just reading a fan someone wrote about Oaklynn and Ilsan!” You swallow hard, whiter as you squeeze his hand tight. “But what were you say about the aquarium?” Suguru knows there's more than just some fanfic behind your tears, but if you keep pushing, he’s afraid he’ll ruin the first night in the condo with you.

“They said we could take today to settle in.”

You both head to the store to get groceries to cook dinner together. The whole time, Suguru watches you with weary eyes. Knowing you guys were out and about, you seemed fine, but he also knew you. You were pretty talented at putting on a mask behind your genuine emotions. He signs that if you’re not doing better by the following day, he will bring it up again and confront you about what was happening.

The next day, you’re okay, and the following day and the day after that. He’s happy to see your smiling face with no traces of tears in them. He wishes his face mirrored yours. Instead of worrying about you, he’s beginning to worry more about himself. It’s not that being with you makes him sad or that living together for the last week hasn’t been what he has always dreamed about. Being with you was a dream come true. Waking up next to you, cooking meals with you, taking an evening stroll on the beach, and being with you were the best part of returning to Okinawa.

But it was the flashbacks he wasn’t loving.

Images of Riko on the beach, running down the sidewalk. Enjoying her life to the fullest, not knowing this would be the last trip she would ever take because of him.

The second night in the condo was when the nightmare started up again. The same ones he’d been having for years. Riko in the aquarium, the blue hue of the lights around turning red before he was lying down on the street, staring into her lifeless eyes, while her blood-stained mouth told him it was his fault. He hadn’t been fast enough and pushed you out of the way. He had chosen one over the other; those toxic thoughts were the source of the nightmares plaguing him. That also had him stirring in his sleep next to you.

You had been struggling to fall asleep. You and Suguru had been in Okinawa for a week, and you still hadn’t been able to break the news about the cottage to him. That was why you were so upset when you arrived and had been crying a week prior. Eventually, you knew you would have to come clean about it, but you couldn’t do that right now, not when he needed you.

Not wanting to linger on those thoughts any longer, you were about to turn onto your other side when Suguru gasped, yelling your name as he sat up in bed.

“Sugu?!”? You sat up with him, watching his chest. His eyes are brimming with tears. “Hey, I’m right here.” Very gently, you grabbed his thigh, squeezing him, grounding him. “I’m right here with you.”

Suguru breathed heavily and yanked your hand to his chest, holding it there as if he was afraid he would vanish if you didn’t touch him. Scooted towards him, sitting on your knees, watching the adrenaline coursing through his veins slowly settle down. His muscles relaxed, and he watched as the pulse in his throat slowed down. Once he calms down, you lean closer, copying your hand against his cheek.

Leaned into his lips against the palm of your hand. “Sorry.” He pressed another gentle kiss. “Did I wake you?” Shame and embarrassment clouded his eyes as they roamed over your face.

“No, I was already awake.” That seems to make his shoulders relax more. “Were you having a nightmare about me?”

“How did you—?”

“You screamed my name.”

Suguru averts his gaze, biting down on his bottom lip. “Sorry, I—I—uhm—“ your hand leaves his face quickly, grabbing his hand again and squeezing it.

“Talk to me, please.”

Suguru never went into details about his nightmares with you. He only talked about it with his therapist and had mentioned them to Gojo one night when he had been drinking. His therapist had said that it was his conscience. The guilt of what had happened was eating away at him. After increasing his meds, he had encouraged Suguru to talk to his friends about the nightmares, but he had never had the urge to.

Right this second, as he sat down in bed with you. Countless times, you had woken up alone, having to deal with the pain, fear, and memories in the dead of night. Now, it was different. You were with him held. This was why you had agreed to come with him to Okinawa. Even if the nightmares revolved around you, want to talk to anybody else about it

“I have nightmares about the accident over and over again. And it’s not just about Riko—it’s about you too.” Suguru went into details, telling you about the aquarium, Riko, and the street where she had died. In that dream, he described how Riko always blamed him for pushing you out of the way of the moving car. The entire time, you were silent, taking in his words, holding his hand, caressing the back of his knuckles with your thumb. You would give him a gentle, reassuring squeeze whenever his voice would crack or his gaze would linger on the sheets for too long.

You had known his nightmares were terrible, but you never knew how bad they were. Suguru had to suffer with them constantly. Of course, he would have insomnia! But there was one thing about the dreams that didn't make sense.

“Suguru, why do you think you pushed me out of the way?”

Your best friend blinked slowly, looking up from the bed to focus on your face. “Huh?” Confusion was etched into your features. “Be—because I did?” Suguru’s face contorted with confusion as you quickly moved forward, cupping his face in your hands.

“You didn't.” When he says nothing, you feel like your stomach is crawling up your throat. “Oh my god, Suguru, all these years, you seriously thought you had picked me over Riko?” His eyes go wide, and a mixture of relief and confusion swirls in the pit of his stomach. “Suguru, honey, I was across the street. Satoru stole my boba, so I chased him.”

“I—I don't remember that—”

“Of course you don't.” You stroked his cheeks with your thumbs. “You were crossing with Riko when the car lost control.” Images of that day flashed through Suguru’s mind. Him walking in front of Riko, grinning back at her on a perfect sunny day. “The second you saw the car coming, you turned around to grab her—” Your eyes watered as you could feel the heat creeping into his cheeks. “You wrapped her in your arms, shielding her. But her head hit the crib when you guys hit the ground.”

Hearing you tell him the truth, the details of what happened, brings the memories back. They were fuzzy and distorted, like a television during a horrible thunderstorm, but he could see the picture. You pouted, jumping up and down across the street as Satoru held your boba above his head. You were right; you were nowhere near him when the car lost control. It had just been him, Riko, and Kuroi.

He remembered the screaming and yelling as he heard the blaring car horn. Jumping into action, he grabbed Riko, pulling her into his chest, with his back towards the car. The hit hurt, but he tucked his body as he and Riko took the hit, slamming against the street hard. Everything hurt, and his ears had been ringing, but what mattered the most was that he and Riko were okay.

At least, that's what he had thought until he felt the warmth of spreading blood pooling beneath them.

The room felt like it was spinning as everything hit him at once. He hadn't pushed you out of the way. He tried to save Riko! He had shielded her. He didn't choose you over her.

“I—I tried to save her.”

“Yes, and it wasn't your fault that she passed. You did everything in your power to save her.” you brushed your thumbs over his flushed cheeks, watching as tears streamed down them. “It wasn't your fault.”

That truth, in a way, had set him free. Well, part of him, at least. That night, he lay there with you, watching you sleep, remembering how you screamed his name after he was hit, how you were the first person running towards him as soon as traffic stopped. You had been sobbing, stroking his hair back, holding his hand; you had been the one, holding his hand, sitting in the chair next to his hospital bed.

You, god, it was always you. How was it even possible for him to fall even deeper in love with you? He had to tell you how he felt, but he couldn't just blurt it out; he needed it to be perfect.

A week passed, and you were dragged down the sidewalk, grinning up at your best friend, who was holding your hand as tightly as he could. He was talking you to the aquarium to show you his work on the mural so far, which had been a vast improvement since he always dreaded going. But since last week, he seemed to be doing a bit better.

Just because he had realized that the accident itself was not his fault didn't mean he was going to heal overnight miraculously. It was more like he was a glass of dark water, and you had turned the faucet on, allowing clean water to start flowing in. Over time, the dark water would become more transparent and clearer. Riko and everything that happened here in Okinawa will always be part of Suguru, but thinking about it would be less painful over time.

“Come on, this way!” he grinned, pulling you through the halls and leading you to the area he’d been hired to work on.“I can’t wait to show you.”

“Okay! Okay!” You giggle, gripping his hand tighter as you enter the main aquarium you had been to when you were seventeen on your class trip.

The room had a certain blue hue as blue whales and other fish swam in the tanks around you. A wall on one side of the room had been zoned off with plastic covers, hiding what was going on behind the scenes. Suguru pulled the plastic cover back for you, and as you stepped inside. The second you’re both behind the fronted cover, Suguru turns on a light and points it to the wall.

There in all its well-sketched glory are Riko and the whales. You walk along the wall, fingers gently grazing over her sketched-out form, following the sketch. The wall had to be half a kilometer long, and seeing Suguru’s art on a wall like this was surreal. The pencil work was excellent to see it painted—you stopped in your tracks, taking in the wall.

It wasn’t just Riko, not anymore.

All your friends were there: Gojo, Shoko, Nanami, Haibara, Suguru, and you. Each of your friends was spread out, mixed in with different people, each other except for you and Suguru. The two of you were standing near each other. Seeing you on the wall near your best friend, depicting both of you grinning at each other, made your heart race.

God, you wanted to be with him so bad. You wanted to be more than friends. Especially now, seeing what he had drawn made you realize how badly you wanted to be his girlfriend.

“What do you think?” Suguru asked as he joined your side, his hand rubbing against the back of his neck. “Do you like it?”

“I love it.”

“Yeah? The aquarium staff seem to like it, too.” His fingers trace over the pencil markings on the wall. “I can’t remember the last time I had been so excited about doing a piece like this.” You watch with bated breath as Suguru runs his thumb over your drawing on the wall. “I have a pretty amazing muse and friend to thank for pushing me.”

Friend.

You swallow hard, clenching your hands tight. Tonight, you would finally take Yuki’s advice and show him how you felt about him. You could do this!

While those thoughts were in your mind, you ran through different scenarios. Suguru was thinking about his plans. Tonight was the night he was going to tell you how he felt. He’s going to sit down with you and have an honest conversation about how much you meant to him. he wasn’t going to allow this façade to continue. Now was the time for honesty.

Honestly, it ended up with you kissing each other the second you made it back to the condo. Your hands tangled in his dark hair, and you kissed him with no remorse while he reciprocated with gentler kisses. You kicked the door shut, moaning into his mouth while he locked the door. You pushed him inside, turning into the bedroom, where you shoved him against the bed.

“Wh-whoa—“ he chuckled nervously, pushing himself on his elbows. “What’s gotten into you—mmhm!” You straddled his hip, kissing him harder, rocking eagerly against his crotch with whimpers and whines. Suguru groaned, hands twitching as he resisted the urge to grab your hips and rock you faster against him. “Y-You break that writer's bl—ahh fuck.”

“Mhmm.” Your pussy twitches against the hardening bulge in his pants. “Mmm~.” Gentle kisses are planted down Suguru’s neck, over and over, down to the collar of his shirt, where your teeth nip at.

“Princess—we should—“

“Shh, just relax.” You pull back, tugging your shirt over your head and throwing it to the ground before you do the same to Suguru.

Fuck, it was hard to relax with you being so seductive. Your perfect, beautiful body rocks and rolls against him, leaving Suguru wholly enamored by how gorgeous you look on top of him. His shaky hands gently grab your hips holding them, and you try with all of your might to rock against his cock.

You fight against his hold; you need him to know how much you care about him. You wanted to be more than just friends. Showing him how you felt was going to be your best bet. What better way to tell him you want to be more than friends than sleeping with him? If it worked for Yuki, surely it would work for you.

Reaching around your back, you unclasp your bra, allowing the flimsy fabric to fall to the bed, revealing your bare tits. They jiggle with each roll of your hips against his. You can feel his fingers digging into your hips before you slowly trail up the sides of your body. His fingers caress over your sensitive skin before inching further and further up until they cup your breasts.

As his hands gently massage them, your head rocks back while you rut your hips faster against his jeans. His cock throbs hard at your sensual rocking while his thumbs gently rub circles over your nipples, and his fingers knead at your sweet soft breasts. Out of all of the sessions you two had shared, this was by far the most sensual one. This felt real and raw.

Suguru felt it, too, as did how hot and heavy things were getting. He could feel how wet you were through your panties that hid underneath your floral skirt. He could see it in your face, the way your skin flushed, and your eyes rolled back as your hands gripped his pectoral muscles for support as you rolled your hips harder against his throbbing cock. That’s when he knew this wasn’t about your research; this was you taking control, taking what you wanted. He would’ve been happy for you to do that any other time.

But he didn’t want to be a one-time thing.

“Princess.” He began watching as you sat back on the heels of your feet, unbuckling his belt, the clanking of the metal deafening. “Princess.”

“It’s okay,” you pull the zipper to his jeans, tugging them down to his thighs.

“Hey—” his boxers are pulled down.

“Shh—” The Floral skirt is the next to go, flying across the room before your panties join it.

“Hey.”

“Sugu—”

“I can’t do this!”

He shouted, sitting up completely and staring at your naked body as your eyes widened with shock. Did Suguru not want to take this further? Was all of this to help you with your book, like really help you, nothing more than that?

Your chest heaves as your hands cover your breasts while you quickly slide off of his lap. Embarrassment, shame, and Amy of other emotions settle in your heart and stomach as his words repeatedly replay in your mind. This is not what you had anticipated when you sent your plan in motion. You thought that maybe deep down inside, he felt the same way you did.

Your eyes and the inside of your nose begin to burn with tears that you’re trying hard to hold back. What were you even supposed to say in a moment like this? What was the proper etiquette for being turned down by your best friend you had fallen in love with over the years? The only thing you could think was to collect your clothes and leave.

Before you even have a chance to jump off the bed and grab your panties to slide back on, Suguru pulls you back into his arms. Your bare chest is pressed firmly against his. The sudden reconnection of your body makes you inhale sharply as his hands slowly down your back.

“I can’t hook up with you.”

“Yeah, you made that clear, Sugu—“

“Stop!” One of his hands rests against the smell of your back while the other grabs you by the back of your head, pressing your forehead firmly against his. “I can’t just hook up with you because I love you!”

Forever Tag List:

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INHK Tag List (TO BE ADDED AGE MUST BE IN BIO)

@lemonintrovert01 @spankmydepression @renttheannihilator @witchbybirth @missmuffinr @lialia3945 @theobsidianempress @aquasan29 @toffeebrat @aussiemeerkat @chimichangagirl @zoroisminty @spankmydepression @em-aizawa @gojosimp26 @moonlightazriel @candy-s72 @makingtimemine @strflp @angel-academia @xocandyy

[maigo-san]

What are your zolu hcs?

this is inspired by a scene from the anime during Luffy's flashback post Marineford. It's the way Luffy doesn't cross Zoro's boundaries. At first, Luffy sees a lot of himself in Zoro and that's why he finds that Zoro can take the way he treated him (i.e. the manhandling, flinging around, teasing him relentlessly) and he was right to some degree, Zoro seems to tolerate pain despite not made out of gum so he does sometimes still yanked Zoro when he ran in the wrong direction and stuff like that. Zoro also does the same thing as him, pinching him, bonking foreheads, using his full power to fight Luffy, scolding or teasing Luffy back. But Luffy realizes that Zoro is an immovable force when it comes to things like sleeping or training and he stops bothering him. Sometimes he still asks Zoro to play with him as a way to share his excitement but he doesn't disturb him or poke him or steal his stuff anymore and just tap on Zoro's shoulder or his weight. Luffy doesn't even need to say anything because Zoro already knows what he wants and he also knows that his "clingy" captain likes to do this just for the sake of seeking Zoro. Sorry, it's such a small gesture but I will die on this hill because Luffy cares for Zoro as much as Zoro does for him

they call each other aibous/partners LOL either in the final saga or post-canon or when they get together. Had this idea after a Sabaody arc rewatch and saw RayRoger call each other that. Also why I find a lot of parallels between ZL and KidKiller. I find it even more fitting than right-hand man or vice-captain (but he could be all of them)

Zoro has a weird way with PDA. He doesn't do that much because he gets embarrassed by it. But he can't keep himself away from Luffy's personal space. Probably because Luffy does the same. He likes to sniff him discreetly; swing his leg on top of Luffy, acting like he was just nonchalantly chugging his beer; randomly pin Luffy down with his whole weight and falling asleep on top of him while Luffy looks so confused at first; press a palm on the back of Luffy's neck and pulling him to press their foreheads together while staring intensely into Luffy's eyes; neither of them saying anything until Nami told them to get a room; Zoro likes to bite Luffy, on his shoulder blades or his cheeks, due to cuteness aggression. He is actually the one who started it before Luffy developed a habit of biting him.

In modern AU, I really like to HC kindergarten/daycare/preschool teacher Luffy. His jobs can be pretty diverse, ranging from errand boy, to sex worker, to sumo wrestler, to boxer or MMA, to child care, to delivery service, pet sitter, warehouse operator, oil rig worker, beetle expert/scientist, and (a moot suggested) animal whisperer. Did he get a degree? maybe. Did it take him multiple tries to get a degree? could be. Did Sabo or Nami hook him up with a fake certificate? also possible. He might not even need them, this and that offered him after he helped them or something. While Zoro for me is usually pretty straightforward. A kendo athlete or teacher, anything by Luffy's side, bounty hunter or a hitman, or he gets paid to do the math equations in his classmates' assignments. At one point he was offered a data analysis or statistics job where he didn't last for a week because he got bored, had a bad attitude, and was often late due to getting lost

I have so many zl hcs I have not made any fanwork of, but these are the ones I thought abt at the top of my head so I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know what you think.

Bonus mature one to make this five hcs in total

Luffy bottoms, Zoro tops. Sometimes, Zoro is more of a side or touch-me-not, so they would use toys, hands, or tongues. Luffy looooves Zoro's mouth, almost more than getting dicked down. They either have quickies almost every day or they can go months without having sex so they don't have it planned out and they don't really experiment. One or both of them will just ask the other if they're horny or not, if they want to let off steam or not and just go at it. Zoro finds more pleasure in Luffy's reactions and looks than his own while in return, Luffy lets him in his most vulnerable state and gives him all his unbridled attention. Oftentimes, Zoro does it because he misses Luffy.

[izel-scribbles]

Hello! I just want to say I absolutely love your art your John and Arthur drawings give me life they are so good and help feed into my Malevolent obsession. I started Malevolent just recently and I’m only on episode 14 so far (I am terrified for episode 17 because my friend told me that episode broke him and I have my own personal theories as to what is happening with certain things but I will never be prepared) and I have loved it so much and I also love seeing people’s art for it and everyone’s own personal interpretations of John and Arthur’s relationship. My favorite character so far is John I am so intrigued by his story and character development and also his voice is quite nice and I absolutely die every time he talks to Arthur affectionately or whenever Arthur is dying and he is speaking to him so gently as he’s trying to be there for him in what he believes are his final moments I just agdhxxysgchchdhfhfxh. Also your human John just looks like he would give this best hugs I love him so so much.

Anyways that was a bit long but as far as requests go I recently felt the need to think of what Arthur’s death scene in episode 9 would look like if human John or at least a visual representation of a human-looking John was there in the scene (I am making a google doc of “stage notes” for the whole thing because I need to either draw it or play it out with one of my friends) and so I’ll describe one particular bit if you think it would be fun to draw. So after the officer gets ripped in two by the creature in the lake when John is talking about the tentacles coming onto the ship I imagine human John standing in front and to the left (Arthur’s left not the viewer’s) of Arthur looking around at the tentacles looking tense and urgent but when he turns around to see Arthur slumped over in a puddle of his own blood his expression immediately turns to one of sadness and he quietly kneels by Arthur’s side. As John says “just… let it go, you’re not alone.” he takes Arthur into his arms and holds Arthur’s head close to his chest, keeping him close as he draws his final breath.

So yeah if you want you can draw anything from that or you could draw John wearing this dress (because we love men and specifically John in dresses) if you’d rather do that.

Sorry this is a bit long, I hope one or both of these requests is to your liking. I will say again I love your art, I love Malevolent, and both inspire me in my own creativity and I just want to say thank you for that. You’re awesome and you deserve to have your art be seen and appreciated. Hope you have a wonderful morning, afternoon, or evening.

hi!!! thank you so much!!! i'm currently relistening to malevolent and i happened to get to part 9 as i got this ask!

i couldn't come up with a good composition for your request, so here's john in a dress 😅

[x-press-it]

Devilish Desires - 4/9?

Dangerous Temptations, Irresistible Touch 🎞️❤️‍🔥🌹⚔️🖤💻🖱️

Sub!Logan Howlett x Dom!OC (They/Them)

Summary: Logan, typically guarded and dominant, finds himself captivated by E, a mysterious being with a devilish allure and ancient presence that challenges his control.

Context: This story unfolds 'within' the "Days of Future Past" new timeline, during Logan's early years as a history teacher at Xavier’s School. It’s set well before his consciousness from the original timeline reconnects with him in 2023, as seen at the film’s end.

Content Warnings (for the whole story): Smut 18+ (Dry humping, Edging, Unprotected p in v.) - Dom!Logan into Sub!Logan - Pet Names (Good boy, pretty boy, pet, pup, amongst others...) reversed age gap (Logan is younger) - OC Notes: Established name, backstory, powers, fighting style, female body but gender fluid character (Logan misgender them at first because he doesn't know, even in the descriptions) - Mention of other character from the MCU and subtle references to the comics for flavor (not mandatory to understand what is happening) - Flash back and mention of past trauma - Fluff with Dark Undertones: Emotional tension and possessive affection - Worship Themes: Religious imagery, reverent language and awe - Ancient Mysticism: References to otherworldly or demonic presence - Mental Health: Power dynamics, personal vulnerabilities - Trope: Rivals to lovers. I'm back after 10 years of iatus and fairly new to how things are done on tumblr now, so sorry if I missed any warnings. Also english isn't my first language so there might be typos/weird sentences...

Notes: Got very inspired by sub!Logan and repeated listening of "Between wind and water" by Hael. Cover made with canva from an idea I got from this post. If you know who made the picture, tell me so I can credit them - Click on the divider to find the creator. Also this was meant to be an imagine turned into a full story. Just so you know, some chapters are very short, other are long. I'm in the process of editing/writing/rewriting parts so I'll post a chapter everytime I have one fully edited. This was another hard chapter to edit/rewrite, but I did it ^^ I hope you guys like fighting/sparring scenes ^^" Ok, let's feed that hunger, shall we? ;)

Need some music? I've got you

Previously: in Devilish Desires

Chapters: 4/9?

Word Count: 9.9K / 50K+ for now

In the days that followed their meeting in the library, E kept their distance from Logan. They must have been tangled up with all the contract adjustments and whatever else came with their mysterious agenda, or at least that’s what he assumed. Logan couldn’t say he minded their absence; if anything, the tension between his shoulders had finally started to ease, and his routine felt a little less invaded.

He hardly saw them around the mansion. E would appear in passing, usually on their way to Charles’s office or briefly dipping into the library, but they seemed to vanish as quickly as they appeared. They never crossed paths otherwise. Not in the gym, where he’d half-expected to catch them training, nor in the kitchen, where they always managed to get there before him and leave behind only faint traces—a mug in the sink, an empty coffee pot. Even Ororo, who spent most of her time outside tending to the gardens, mentioned she hadn’t seen them lingering around the grounds. And as the days dragged on, Logan felt the empty space they’d left lingering.

A part of him was curious now, his wariness easing as he'd learned more about them. He’d gotten a glimpse of them beneath that composed exterior, enough to see that they weren’t the threat he’d originally thought, maybe even enough to say they weren't so different from each other—if he squinted. Their goals didn’t seem so far from his, and neither did their need for freedom. He found himself wondering, almost against his will, what they were doing when they weren’t working. It didn’t sit right, not knowing.

And soon enough, he realized he’d started keeping an eye out for them. Them, the person who’d been in his face day in and day out for weeks, was now barely a shadow in the mansion’s daily rhythm. It was… odd, and the feeling only grew with each day they didn’t cross paths.

But then, on the fifth day after their meeting, Logan’s curiosity finally got a break when Charles called the team to his office. He could sense something was coming—the air in the room was thick with it. The team gathered, shifting uneasily, the only absentees being the three younger members. Logan leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his gaze as sharp as ever as he watched each person in the room. His eyes kept circling back to E, who stood slightly off to the side, their expression a wall of carefully constructed calm. They didn’t look at him or anyone else, a clear signal they weren’t here to play nice.

Charles cleared his throat, drawing their attention as he settled behind his desk. “I’ve called you all here to discuss an important matter regarding the security of the school.”

Logan’s gaze narrowed, his instincts already piecing together that this had to do with E. Sure enough, Charles’ steady look swept across the team, his voice carrying a calm authority. “It has been decided that E will be training with you all from now on. They won’t be part of the team, but as they work here at the school and have the right to defend it, it’s important for everyone to understand their abilities. In case of an attack, we all need to be on the same page.”

The discomfort in the room was tangible. Everyone shifted, casting skeptical glances at E, who remained silent, almost impassive. Their appearance looked more severe today—dull skin and eyes, their horns lacking their usual shine, and their hair pulled back in a tight bun. They wore mostly black, save for a few touches of dark red, with no jewelry and only the barest hint of makeup. Jean watched them closely, brows furrowing as she tried to read their thoughts, but E’s sharp glare in her direction made it clear that wall wasn’t coming down.

Scott was the first to voice his hesitation, clearing his throat as he looked between Charles and E. “Is that really necessary? We’ve never had any outsiders train with us before.”

Logan couldn’t help the low chuckle that slipped out. “Forgot about me, Summers? I was an outsider once, too.” The words hung in the air for a heartbeat before he cast a quick glance at E. Just as he expected, their attention—once fixed on their perfectly manicured red nails—flickered to his, briefly meeting his gaze before quickly looking away, the moment slipping by as quickly as it had come.

If they weren’t friends, Scott would’ve probably fried him with his visor for that comment, but Charles remained patient as he waited for the room to settle. “E works alongside us here,” he said, voice steady but unyielding. “They have every right to protect the students, just as we do.” His gaze swept over each person, settling on them a moment longer than necessary. “It’s important we trust one another in times of crisis.”

Logan’s gaze drifted back to E. They stood rigid, a subtle tension in their posture that hadn’t been there before. If he was reading them right, they didn’t want to be here any more than the team wanted them here. It wasn’t just distance, it was a quiet wariness, like they were on guard against everyone, Charles being the only exception. Even Jean’s curiosity only earned another glare from E, a silent warning to stay out of their head.

As the murmurs of agreement wrapped up the meeting, Logan lingered, eyes settling on E. He wasn’t wary of them anymore, not exactly, but something about them made him curious. He’d seen a glimpse of who they were under that mask. He wasn’t sure he trusted them yet, but he respected them—at least enough to want to see more of what they were capable of. And there was that other thing, too; he’d noticed it in the faint shadows under their eyes and the worn edges of their aura. Whatever was keeping them going seemed to be running thin.

“Hey,” he called out before they could leave. They turned slowly, an eyebrow raised, the only indication they’d heard him.

“When d’you have time to spar?” he asked, trying to read their reaction.

Their face barely shifted, but he could see a glint of amusement behind their guarded look. “Right now, actually,” they replied, their voice steady and even. “Unless you’re busy.”

Logan pushed off the wall, straightening his posture. “I’ve got time.”

They nodded, excusing themselves to change and, twenty minutes later, they met him at the bottom of the staircase. They were both now dressed in gear more suitable for what lay ahead, and Logan couldn’t help but notice the way their presence had shifted from the last time they spoke—the carefully polished exterior was there, but the energy behind it was dimmed, like they were holding something back. As they stepped outside, Logan led them to a secluded corner of the grounds, far from prying eyes. The shaded glade lay far from the main paths, ensuring no students or teachers would wander by, a quiet space with plenty of room to move freely.

As they reached the clearing, he rolled his shoulders, flexing his arms and testing his range of motion with a low, almost eager hum in his throat. “Alright,” he said, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

E’s lips curved into a faint smile, tight at the edges, as they removed their shoes, grounding themselves in the cool grass. Logan studied them, and it seemed like even the glint in their eyes was dimmer than he remembered; they looked tired, worn.

“You sure you’re feelin’ up for this?” he taunted. “Look a little beat.”

At those words, a faint smirk tugged at their lips, a dangerous spark lighting in their eyes—not quite playful, but charged with a hint of anticipation as they settled a few feet from him, their toes curling slightly in the green blades. “Looks can be deceiving,” they stated, their eyes narrowing with a brief, steely flash. “So don’t hold back.”

Logan chuckled, a low growl under his breath . “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

They shifted into their stances, circling each other slowly, and Logan took a moment to assess them, noting their balance and posture, looking for signs of fatigue or hesitation. E looked drained, their skin and eyes lacking the usual intensity, their expression guarded but when they lunged forward, it was with a speed and grace that took him off guard. They were light on their feet, with an economy of motion that spoke of years of training. Even so, they lacked their usual edge. He’d felt their agility before—those brief, charged touches when they went after him over the past couple of weeks. But now, with their first steps, he saw a whole new side to them.

As Logan moved in, he blocked their strike, and the force behind it surprised him. They were damn quick, and strong enough to make him realize he couldn’t take this lightly. He dodged a swift kick, aiming a punch in return, but they twisted smoothly out of his reach, moving with a precision that was… stunning.

A flicker of respect—maybe even awe—stirred in him, and he noticed the shift almost immediately. E’s movements, initially strong, suddenly sharpened, a faint glow sparking in their eyes as they draw strength from his reaction. Each impressed thought, every ounce of admiration, pulse under their skin like fuel, strengthening them further.

Their smile widened, feeling the strength coursing through them now, a flash of teeth as they spun around him, arms a flurry of open-palmed strikes and swift fists. Logan blocked most of them, dodging the rest. They weren’t just good—they were damn good. And as his recognition grew, he felt an odd, almost tangible energy radiating off them, a surge that seemed to seep from the esteem they stirred in him.

“Not bad,” he grunted, his breath steady despite the exertion. The thrill of a real challenge was humming through his veins, the kind that made his blood come alive. But he couldn’t ignore that other feeling creeping in, like something slipping just beyond his control, something wild and powerful in E that his respect seemed to unlock.

They closed in again, and as their bodies met, Logan realized just how agile they were. It wasn’t only that they were fast; it was the precision of each movement, the way they slipped around his strikes like water weaving through rock. He found himself pushed harder, each dodge and block requiring his full attention.

Their style was unlike anything he’d seen before: smooth, swift, each movement flowing into the next like a performer weaving between shadows. There was a seamlessness to their steps, an exotic grace laced with foreign influences he couldn’t quite place—Arabic, maybe, or something even older. As they exchanged blow after blow, it felt like choreography, mesmerizing—E’s motions were fluid and graceful, carrying a rhythm and elegance that Logan could respect, even as he fought to keep up. This wasn’t just skill; it was... Art. And the more he admired it, the stronger they became, each spark of his interest feeding into their movements like an unseen force binding them.

Realization struck him like a blow—yes, they were good, but their power was intensifying, fueled by him.

He’d heard of mutants who could channel the emotions of others, drawing strength from positive thoughts like attention and interest. But feeling it now—feeling their strength mirror his thoughts… it was unlike anything he’d experienced.

They were more than a match for him, and his respect for their skill, their grit, surged. The moment that thought crossed his mind, E’s strikes grew even faster, their focus intensifying, and he was almost sure of it now. His every impressed reaction were seeping into them, fueling their intensity.

Their strikes picked up speed, and Logan found himself on the defensive more than he’d anticipated. They were fucking sharp. For every hit he blocked, two more came at him from new angles, as if they were testing him, pushing him to see just how far they could go. And with each strike, with every dodge, their energy grew, their fatigue seemed to melt away. The fire in their eyes reignited, and their form tightened, honed into something intense and unyielding.

He went in close, using his instincts to counter their movements, but with each passing moment, he witnessed how his respect only made them stronger. It was mesmerizing—and unsettling. The bond felt tangible, like an invisible current between them, and it was taking on a life of its own.

Logan ducked under a high kick, his instincts leading the way, and countered with a low sweep that nearly knocked them off-balance. E rolled out of reach, landing on their feet with a fluid twist that made Logan pause, even for just a fraction of a second. The way they moved was intoxicating—a mix of elegance and deadly purpose that sparked something inside him. He couldn’t help it; for a split moment, he was simply watching them, almost spellbound.

But there was no time to linger. E closed the distance with a burst of energy, a flurry of controlled, powerful strikes, fists and open palms, that had Logan moving on impulse alone. Each hit was controlled, precise, but damn, the force behind them kept him on his toes, like they were trying to push him to his limits. And maybe, deep down, he wanted them to. He blocked, deflected, and when he caught their wrist mid-swing, he allowed a small, knowing smirk to flicker across his face. That’s when he saw it—the glint of mischief in their eyes, quick and bold. E twisted out of his grasp with a move so smooth it felt like he’d tried to catch water.

Logan tightened his grip as they shifted, pulling them back to him, but the moment their faces were mere inches apart, time seemed to pause. Their eyes were locked onto his, unflinching and intense. There was something fierce there, a silent challenge that pulled at something deeper inside him, stoking the embers in his guts. It was like they were daring him, testing him not just as an opponent but as someone who understood the fire behind their eyes.

E must have seen the battle between reason and desire flicker in his gaze because they seized the moment, breaking free in a swift motion. Logan let them go, both impressed and curious, wanting to see what they’d do next. They didn’t waste a second, attacking with renewed vigor, moving like a force of nature, their body a seamless weapon of precision and raw determination. Logan could feel the shift—a resolve in them, the power that had been lying dormant now fully awakened. They weren’t holding back anymore, weren’t playing it safe. The series of blows they threw with rapid precision drew him into that primal place where his instincts ruled, and he was forced to meet them there, letting the feral part in him slip closer to the surface. The thrill of it sparked through his veins like wildfire.

“Alright,” he growled under his breath, almost laughing as he absorbed another blow and stepped back, chest heaving. “So you’re not playin’ around.”

Their eyes glimmered, never breaking eye contact, that confident grin tugging at their lips. They let out a breathy laugh, low and challenging. “You finally noticed?” they teased, their voice smooth with the thrill of the fight. There was something almost predatory in the way they held his gaze, the way they readied themselves for the next round. The air between them was tight, charged, every breath a shared battle. They circled each other once more, both panting heavily now, both intent, and Logan shifted his stance, ready for whatever came next.

He braced himself as they lunged, and this time, he met them head-on, gripping their fist mid-swing. The impact sent a shock through them both, a raw electricity that stilled the moment. E didn’t pull back, and neither did he. The space between them buzzed with an unspoken understanding—a recognition of equals, of opponents who respected each other enough to give everything.

Logan’s gaze drifted over their features, taking in the fierce focus, the glint in their eyes that had come alive in the heat of combat. He could feel his own pulse thundering in his chest, the thrill of the challenge, the sheer admiration for their skill. Whoever they were, whatever their story, they were damn impressive.

Their faces stayed close, eyes locked in a dance of silent words and wild, racing thoughts. He realized then, amidst the push and pull, that they weren’t just sparring. They were testing each other, challenging what they thought they knew.

When they finally broke apart, their breath heavy, Logan took in the slight rise and fall of their chest, the gleam of sweat on their neck. He let out a slow, impressed hum. “You weren’t holdin’ back, were ya?” His voice was low, rough with something more than exertion.

“Not my style.” E’s sly smile was full of restrained satisfaction. “But I thought you’d be a little faster, Wolverine,” they taunted, breathing hard, a mischievous edge to their tone.

Logan chuckled, the sound more rumble than laugh. He rolled his shoulders, a smirk playing on his lips as he nodded. “And you’re better than I thought. Maybe I misjudged ya.” The admission came with its own weight, but it felt right. “Wasn’t expectin’ you to get that fired up.”

And there it was again, that pull in the air between them, a flash of mutual acknowledgment that only seemed to heighten E’s energy. It hung in the air like an invisible thread, binding them to something that was no longer just a sparring match.

“Guess you bring out the best in me,” E added, their voice softer now but no less charged as they straightened, wiping a sheen of sweat from their brow.

This fight, this moment, was more than just a test of strength; it felt like a line had been crossed, an unspoken understanding forged in the heat of battle. Logan’s heart skipped a beat in his chest, and for once, he didn’t bother suppressing the feeling. He’d had his fair share of fights, of sparring matches, but this had felt different—charged, almost like a trial, a test that had changed something between them.

He let a smirk tug at the corner of his lips. “Seems like we both do, huh?”

Their gaze glinted, a hint of mischief mixed with something he couldn’t quite place. “Careful,” they said, voice low, “You might actually start liking me.”

He shook his head, though a glint of something warmer shone in his eyes. “Don’t go gettin’ ideas. I still don’t trust ya,” he said, though there was a reluctant admiration in his tone. “But I can’t deny you’ve got skills.”

They both stood there in the quiet clearing, the tension between them heavy and electric. It wasn’t just the fight that left him on edge—it was that undeniable force that surged through them, the energy that seemed to bloom under his attention, his respect.

They held his gaze a moment longer, something unspoken passing between them. And finally, E’s expression softened, the intensity in their eyes dimming as they nodded slightly. “You ever want another round, you know where to find me,” they said before turning on their heels, the tension between them lingering like the echo of a battle not quite over.

As they walked away, carrying their shoes in one hand, Logan felt a strange pull, something magnetic urging him forward, a reflexive need to know more. Before he could think better of it, he called out after them, half-jogging to close the distance. E paused, glancing back with a raised eyebrow and a hint of amusement in their eyes.

They were checking their phone, frowning at a few missed calls, their thumb hovering over the screen to call back. But before they could hit the button, Logan spoke up, his voice steady despite the racing of his heart. “When d’you reckon we could do this again?”

They looked up, and for a second, there was a gleam of something mischievous in their eyes, a playful spark that was hard to miss. Their lips curved, and that teasing smile tugged at him in a way that caught him off guard. “Oh, can’t get enough of me now, huh, pretty boy?”

Logan felt a tingle in his gut, the playful edge in their voice threw him for a second, that casual nickname landing unexpectedly. They made him feel like he was fifteen again, trying to play it cool in front of someone who seemed way out of his league—a completely new feeling for him. A part of him wanted to fire something back, maybe a quip about how he wasn’t in it for them, but for their skills. But he deflected instead, maintaining his composure. “I want to know more about your style. It’d be good for the team. Could give us an edge, y’know?”

“Good for the team,” E echoed, amusement flashing in their gaze as they cocked their head, weighing him. “If you say so.”

They turned their phone over in their hand, clearly tempted to tease him further, but before they could say anything, he cut them off, “Remember the training sessions Charles mentioned in the meeting? Did he told you about the Danger Room?”

E raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at their lips. “I might have heard of it… but maybe you could tell me a little more?”

Logan nodded, sensing an opportunity. “Well, it’s…let’s just say it’s our own personal, high-stakes training ground. If you want, I can walk you through it sometime.”

E considered him for a moment, their posture straightening as they regained their composure. “Alright. How about we meet back here tonight, after dinner, for some sparring again, and then you can tell me more about this danger room you’re talking about.”

“Tonight, huh?” he said, a hint of a smirk returning. “Yeah, I can make that work.”

“Good,” they murmured, their hand brushing his arm as they stepped past him, a fleeting, electrifying touch that sent a shiver through his skin. It was nothing—a casual touch—but it was enough to spark that strange charge between them again, something he could feel deep in his gut.

“See you tonight, then,” E said with a half-smile, their voice low, almost intimate. They turned, heading back toward the mansion with that damn sway in their step, every move as deliberate as their fighting style, leaving him there, watching and feeling just a bit off-balance. He couldn’t shake the feeling that, tonight, he was in for more than just another spar.

Logan was no stranger to being haunted by his thoughts, and most of the time, it was his past. But this was different—it wasn’t memories lingering in his head, it was someone alive and present, shifting through his thoughts like they had every right to be there. He’d spent the better part of the day moving from task to task, hoping that the routine would get his head on straight. He’d given three history lectures to classes who looked mostly bored out of their minds, walked the mansion perimeter twice, and even joined Hank in the lab for a solid hour before irritation got the best of him.

And still, every damn time he tried to clear his head, they were there. E. A quiet thrill snuck through him at the memory of their last spar, at the way they’d moved with that sharpened focus, picking up on his admiration like they could feel it.

Which they probably could. If his suspicions were right, E could sense admiration the way he could sense a lie—and that alone was a reason to keep his distance. But he hadn’t, not really. He’d leaned into it, watching the way they seemed to glow under his attention. That look in their eyes when they caught his gaze? Couldn’t shake it.

Damn it, it was making him question everything.

You’re not some lovesick puppy, bub, he thought, dragging his hand through his hair, frustrated. Get your head on straight.

E wasn’t his responsibility, not in the usual sense. He wasn’t there to watch over them or protect them. That wasn’t his job. Not that they needed him to, anyway. But the pull they had on him—some strange mix of curiosity and something else—wasn’t something he could easily shake off. He wasn’t sure if it was admiration, attraction, or something more dangerous, but it gnawed at him all the same.

Things never ended well when he got close, especially with someone like them. It was better, safer, to keep his instincts in check.

But still, when he thought about seeing them again, it felt like a twist in his gut, like he was waiting for something he couldn’t name, something primal. It was maddening, intoxicating—a feeling he hated as much as he longed for. And he couldn’t help himself.

His thoughts braught him back to them again, as he remembered the way E’s strikes had picked up speed, their movements sharpening with every surge of his admiration. The memory sent a chill down his spine. His jaw clenched as his mind raced. The urge to spar again—to see how far he could push them, what more they could become—tugged at him. But damn it, he had to remind himself to focus. He was here, not in the damn glade.

“Get ahold of yourself, damn it,” he muttered, hoping the sound of his voice might help break the spell. “You’ve got enough ghosts followin’ you around, don’t go invitin’ another.”

But E wasn’t a ghost. They were sharp, present, and so fucking alive. He didn’t want to admit it, but that made all the difference. This wasn’t some lingering regret or phantom from his past. It was real. And that made everything harder.

It wasn’t just his admiration—it was the way they challenged him, the way they made him feel. That pull, that instinctive response—it was there, simmering under the surface. And maybe that was what scared him the most.

Because even now, he couldn’t decide if it was them or their powers making him feel this way. The pull was real, but was it them? Or just some side effect of them feeding off his admiration?

Damn it. Logan clenched his fists, trying to shake it off. But no matter how much he fought it, E’s presence lingered, just out of reach, but never really gone. They weren’t his responsibility, not really—but hell if his instincts weren’t practically begging to make them his.

Hours dragged on, the sun dipping lower in the sky, but Logan found himself waiting for night to come. Waiting for the next sparring session. His body was wound tight, focus frayed, and he knew damn well it was because of them. No matter how hard he tried to pull himself back, some part of him was already leaning forward, eager to step into that clearing again, to see how much further they could go, how much more they could push each other.

His reason fought to resist, but he honestly wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep fighting it.

Logan settled into his seat in the dining room, but he wasn’t really there. He’d forced himself to join the others for dinner, hoping that the casual chatter would ground him, help shake E from his mind. But as plates clattered and conversations flowed, he found his thoughts still circling back to them—and to the way their strength had fed off his admiration. It gnawed at him, that feeling he’d fueled them somehow, that his respect had made them stronger, sharper. A part of him didn’t want to go down that road, but damn if he wasn’t already obsessing about the next sparring session, counting down the minutes.

He tried to focus on the idle talk around the table, but most of it only seemed to make his hackles rise. People were talking about E—debating whether they’d be joining the team in the future or if this was just a one-off thing. To them, it felt like E was edging their way in, and they didn’t like it. He could see the unease in Bobby’s frown, the way Marie’s gaze flitted to him, clearly feeling out where he stood on all this.

Eventually, the young woman turned to him, her brow raised in question. “So, Logan… what d’you make of her?” she asked, misgendering E without a second thought. “You’ve spent more time with her than the rest of us. ”

His reaction was swift and sharp, his tone a bit harsher than intended. “Them,” he corrected, voice edged. He took a steadying breath, reigning himself back. “They prefer ‘them.’”

Marie and Kitty exchanged a glance at that, a silent conversation that didn’t escape his notice. He forced himself to ignore it, though the sting of irritation remained, mingling with a faint, unexpected defensiveness. He wasn’t the type to stand on ceremony or correct people just to be polite. Still, he wasn’t going to stand by and let them talk about E without a damn bit of respect. But again, why the hell did he feel like he needed to stick up for them?

He tried to keep his tone casual as he shrugged, downplaying it like he didn’t care one way or another. “They’re alright. They’ve helped me out with some legal work, actually. Seems like they know what they’re doing. We sparred too… they’ve got a style that’s different. Pretty sharp. Could be good for you all to pick up some of that.”

The more he spoke, the harder it became to keep the admiration out of his voice. It wasn’t just that they were capable—there was something in the way they moved, the way they fought. Respect had never come easily to him, but with E, it was there, raw and undeniable.

Kitty raised an eyebrow, intrigued, and Logan felt a small spark of irritation as she leaned in. “What’s so special about it?”

He tried to keep it casual but the words flew out of him before he could stop them. “It’s… fast, strong, fluid… almost like watching something crafted. Like art.” Damn it. He hadn’t meant to let so much appreciation slip through, but it was hard to ignore how their moves had lingered in his mind all day.

His comment hung in the air, and he could see the others’ gazes shift toward him, noting how his tone had softened. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, feeling a bit exposed under their scrutiny.

“What’s their power, though?” Bobby asked, curiosity written across his face.

Before Logan could even think of a response, a smooth voice coming from the doorway cut him off. “Don’t you know it’s rude to ask a lady about their powers?”

Logan turned, catching sight of E leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over their chest, a teasing smirk on their lips. They looked different than they had after sparring earlier—not as radiant, but still damn good, with that casual confidence that could set anyone on edge. They had changed again, now in some kind of foreign traditional outfit, somehow looking both beautiful and dangerous as their gaze shifted over each face at the table.

Bobby’s cheeks flushed pink at E’s words, and he fumbled for a response, while Marie shot them a half-hearted glare. Logan didn’t miss the slight flicker in E’s expression—a hint of something softer, like a crack in their armor, but it was gone in an instant, too quick for anyone else to catch.

Ororo was the first to break the silence. “What brings you here, E?”

E straightened, sauntering into the room with an air of nonchalance, though their smirk said otherwise, metal chiming on their ankles and wrists. “Sorry to interrupt,” they said, though the smirk made it clear they weren’t sorry at all. “I’m just here for Logan,” they added when reaching him, their hand finding his shoulder and resting there, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Logan’s frown deepened at their words and actions—like they owned him, like he’d just been summoned. Something primal flared within him at the look in their eyes, and he fought to keep his own expression in check, unwilling to let that part of himself show.

“We had another sparring session planned,” he explained quickly, shrugging off their hand, his tone a bit too abrupt. He didn’t want them getting any strange ideas about what this was.

E gave a small nod, a glint of mischief in their eyes. “Yes, a sparring session,” they repeated, voice low and almost playful. Their gaze lingered on him for just a beat too long, that glint sending his instincts flaring.

They turned with a casual wave of their hand, bracelets chiming with the motion, before glancing back at him over their shoulder as they sauntered back toward the hallway. “I’ll be outside. Don’t take too long,” they tossed back with a wink, disappearing around the corner.

The room went quiet as E left, the tension hanging thick in the air. Logan forced himself to finish his meal, trying to ignore the eyes on him. He could practically feel the questions lingering unsaid, the looks exchanged behind his back. But he kept his focus on his plate, forcing himself to eat slowly even as impatience thrummed beneath his skin. Finally, he excused himself, heading into the kitchen to put his dishes in the dishwasher before slipping out the back.

When Logan reached the clearing, he found E sitting cross-legged in the grass, the deep black of their tunic blending with the shadows, disturbed only by the dark red sash at their waist. When they shifted, the golden and crimson bracelets at their wrists and ankles chimed softly, each note cutting through the quiet night. Even their hair and makeup, immaculately done, added an edge to their poised, lethal beauty—a sharp contrast to the rawness of their last sparring session.

They looked like they were dressed to perform and, for a few heartbeats, he was mesmerized. They were utterly still, chest rising and falling so slowly that they could almost pass for a statue, something sculpted by a master, with an eye for each curve and line. The moonlight washed over them, casting an ethereal glow that only added to the aura around them, one part mystery, one part raw strength.

They had felt him, of course. He didn’t have to make a sound; the energy rolling off him was enough. A faint, knowing smile blossomed on their red-painted lips, soft at first, then sharper as it settled. Eyes still closed, they spoke, their voice smooth as silk in the quiet night. “I’m glad we’re doing this again, Logan.” They paused, savoring the weight of his gaze. “I couldn’t focus all day. You… lingered.”

Logan felt his pulse kick up a notch, his mind flicking back to his own restless day—the way he’d had to force himself to push through the usual motions, when all he really wanted was to get back here, back to them. He tried to keep his expression steady, giving a small shrug as he stepped closer. “Your style’s… intriguing,” he said, hoping it sounded casual, unaffected. But he knew better, and they did too; the spark of warmth they felt from him seemed to seep into their own energy, feeding them.

They savored it, and now he could tell. He watched as something in them shifted, as if they were becoming more than they had been a moment earlier, like his presence and attention added a new depth to their form. Finally, they opened their golden-hooded eyes, meeting his gaze head-on. The shimmer of the powder accentuated the sharpness of their stare, turning it into something almost regal.

Rising to their feet with the delicate chime of metal, they moved with an effortless grace, stretching in a way that was deliberate, flexing their muscles as though reminding him of what he was about to face. “It’s called kalaripayattu,” E said, their voice steady. “It was my foundation. But… it changed, especially in Turkey.” Their gaze darkened momentarily, a flicker of something painful passing through their expression before it settled into a smirk, masking the past. “Not all evolutions come from the best places.”

Logan's jaw tightened at the admission, a familiar pang settling low in his chest. He’d seen that look before—the one that spoke of scars hidden under skin, memories too heavy to carry yet impossible to drop. The urge to say something, to tell them he understood that kind of burden, nearly surfaced, but he bit it back. This wasn’t the moment for words; they both knew that. Instead, he nodded, letting the unspoken understanding hang between them as he rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck as he watched them, that low hum of anticipation lighting up in him again.

E grounded themselves, digging their toes into the grass like they did before their last fight, finding their balance in a way that was both practiced and primal. Their stance shifted, flowing into something new—a crouched position, one leg stretched back and the other supporting them low to the ground, arms raised toward the sky, palms pressed together, like a warrior in prayer. The pose was unexpected, striking, and undeniably dangerous.

“You ready for round two, pretty boy?” They smirked, mischief dancing across their face, challenging him in a way that was hard to ignore.

Logan felt his pulse spike at the nickname, an involuntary reaction he stubbornly refused to acknowledge. It got under his skin in a way that was both infuriating and exhilarating, making his chest tighten with something unspoken. He cracked his knuckles, returning their smirk with one of his own. “You think you got it in you to keep up?” His tone was thick with confidence, with that hint of wild pride that only emerged when he faced someone capable of pushing him to his limits.

“Oh, I know I do, sugar.” They let the word roll off their tongue with a teasing lilt, eyes gleaming with challenge.

They shared a look, two rivals who’d found a rare equal, sizing each other up, caught between the thrill of the fight and the satisfaction of knowing that tonight, there was no one else who could possibly match them.

And then, as the tension reached its peak, both held taut in that breathless moment, they launched at each other. Their bodies collided, a clash of motion and control, every inch a dance of precision—not with brute force, but with a dynamic grace, a synergy that felt almost primal. E moved first, sliding low to the ground, almost flowing, their actions fluid and deliberate, bracelets and anklets chiming with every shift. Each touch, each brush of their hand along his arm, shoulder, and side was deceptively soft, like a caress meant to lure rather than harm. But Logan wasn’t fooled. He felt the energy coiled in every motion, understood just how deadly each one could be if they chose it to be. He knew the strength they were capable of. Those strikes—gentle as they were—carried a restrained power, and he sensed it, a whisper of the damage they could inflict if they changed their mind and decided to hurt him.

They circled each other in a rhythm that came as naturally as breathing, bodies weaving in and out, almost as if bound by a magnetic pull. E struck out with an open palm, a grazing motion that skimmed across his ribs, a warning rather than a blow. Logan responded, ducking low and twisting around, countering with a restrained swing that they sidestepped with ease, pivoting on one leg, the other extended gracefully behind them. Their fighting style was a thing of beauty—each move sharp, controlled, yet inherently lethal. It was all in the restraint, the elegance in the way they flowed around him, closing the distance only to slip away, like waves ebbing back from the shore.

The touches, brief as they were, left lingering warmth against his skin, almost delicate in contrast to the fierce intent that lay beneath them. Logan could sense it with every shift in their stance, every breath they took—if E wanted to, they could bring him to his knees. It was a tantalizing threat, one that made his blood sing with the thrill of the fight.

In return, he matched their intensity with his own. He countered with his own practiced moves, his ferocity meeting their grace—rougher, rawer, like fire pushing against wind. He didn’t back down, wasn’t about to let them get too close without a response. He dodged, weaved, barely avoiding some of their strikes, slipping by with mere inches to spare. When they made contact—a calculated strike to his shoulder—he could feel the charged intent behind it, even as they held back, making him stagger back just enough to shake it off, smirking, before charging in again. They danced around him, a perfect, untamed rhythm building between them, and he found himself moving faster, sharper, like every step forward fueled the energy between them, both testing the other without any intent to truly harm. He could feel it in the air between them—something feral, almost like a mating ritual, the way their movements mirrored, challenged, and matched.

They struck again, this time low, forcing him to leap back and adjust, his grin widening with every movement. It was as if they were bound not by competition but by an unspoken connection—a bond that thrived on the intensity, the way they pushed each other without ever holding back. They were not opponents, nor allies in the typical sense. There was no give, no yield. Neither wanted to win or lose. They just wanted to keep moving, to stay in that almost sacred moment, as if time could stretch itself around them, infinite, like two forces swirling endlessly into one another, an ouroboros that neither began nor ended.

E’s presence seemed to shift, to pulse with each strike and dodge, a captivating intensity building under the lights as if drawing energy from the exhilaration in Logan’s gaze. The more he felt—admiration, awe, the raw thrill of the dance—the more vivid they seemed, their form almost transcending reality in the moonlight. Their eyes gleamed with pure, unfiltered joy, and he saw it, saw the way they thrived under his gaze, every ounce of respect and challenge he sent their way amplifying their allure, making them seem more vivid with each passing second. They absorbed his fire, his strength, and reflected it back, their entire being moving with an entrancing grace that felt more alive than the world around them, their movements turning quicker, sharper, a need to show him more, to perform for him, to be seen. It was like they wanted him to witness the full extent of who they were, to understand how much he fueled them, empowered them.

And still, they did not relent. They wove through their attacks with such artful grace, arms sweeping in wide, lethal arcs that never quite struck him, but came close enough to make his heart race. Logan could feel the tension build in every swipe and brush of their hands, a coil wound tight within him, a primal urge to keep going, to fight like this until the stars themselves faded from the sky.

In a final sweep, they pivoted and leapt into the air, their body twisting mid-flight as they spun over his head, landing with barely a sound, crouched low, their gaze burning as they looked up at him, alive with energy, skin aglow. They seemed transformed, radiating something almost otherworldly, as if their exchange had unlocked something deep within them.

They rose slowly, never breaking eye contact, a faint smirk tugging at the edges of their lips, and Logan felt a surge of awe and something deeper, something inexplicable. This hadn’t just been a fight—it was communion, the give-and-take of two forces that could spend eternity bound in this endless, exhilarating cycle. In that timeless, breathless exchange, Logan felt the truth of it. He’d found someone who matched him, who fed off the same fire, who thrived under the heat of his gaze just as he could under theirs. And as he steadied himself, breath ragged, he knew one thing for certain—he didn’t want this moment to end.

But then, unexpectedly, E burst out laughing—an honest, unrestrained, melodic laugh that broke free as if from a place long hidden. They threw their head back toward the sky, eyes closed, arms open, an untamed joy that caught Logan completely off-guard. That sound—it wasn’t mocking, nor was it triumphant. It was raw, genuine happiness and it sent a ripple through him, something deep and visceral. His chest tightened at the sight, at the way E’s expression softened for just a breath, letting the mask slip enough to reveal the humanity underneath all that skill and bravado.

It lasted only a few heartbeats, but in that space, Logan felt a shift. The air between them crackled differently, heavier, as if the laughter had broken down an invisible barrier neither had admitted was there. E’s eyes met his, searching, almost daring him to react, to see beyond the sparring and the guarded quips. For once, there was no battle in their gaze, only an invitation.

Logan’s eyes lingered on them as he tried to steady his breathing. A slow grin creeped across his lips, a rare thing that made the edges of his face soften, the soft, unguarded joy in E’s laugh still echoing in his mind. “Enjoying yourself, huh?” he said, voice rougher than he intended, a mix of exertion and something deeper. He’d seen them as fierce, elusive, hidden behind layers that only cracked in quick, playful smirks. But tonight, they’d shown him something true, almost sacred, and he couldn’t look away .

E’s smile didn’t fade as they stepped closer, their chest rising and falling in time with their breaths. “More than you know,” they replied, voice low and charged, carrying a promise unspoken yet understood. They stood close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from their skin, the space between them almost humming with potential.

Logan’s gaze couldn't leave them, their bare sincerity, their easy grace, the way they stood under the stars as though they belonged there more than any place he’d ever seen. For once, he was stripped of any clever response, any guard. He didn’t look away, either, though something in him warned he probably should. He could feel it—how much more they seemed to want to show him. How much closer he wanted to be.

They could feel the fire burning in his gut, feeding their hunger in a way that made the ache to stoke it grow stronger. Under his curious eyes, they began moving in slow, hypnotic turns, delicate and precise, metallic chimes echoing from their wrists and ankles. They were dancing—an ancient and untamed choreography, meant only for the night air, the moon, the stars, and him. Logan could almost feel the pulse of their energy in his bones, awakening that place deep inside him that almost never stirred, except in moments like this—moments fleeting and rare. His reason urged him to keep his guard up, but his defenses were slipping, worn down by the rhythm of their dance and the raw humanity of their movements. He found himself stilling, breathing slow, caught in the silent music only they could hear.

Then, they stopped, releasing a deep, contented sigh, like someone freed after being bound for far too long. They looked at him, an unfiltered calm in their gaze, and the sight of it drew something close to an ache in him.

“Thank you, Logan,” they said, their voice holding a warmth he rarely heard from anyone.

He gave a short nod, gruff as always, but inside, her words struck him with a strange weight. “Didn’t do much,” he muttered quietly, shrugging it off.

“Oh, but you did.” E’s lips curved up, but there was no teasing, no facade, only quiet gratitude. They extended their hands, twisting their fingers and wrists slowly in delicate, almost playful movements, while their bracelets chimed softly against their skin, as though savoring the freedom, the lightness they’d reclaimed. “Since you gifted me peace, tonight, I’m gonna give you a gift of my own,” they whispered, stepping forward. They reached out, their fingers brushing his forearm, a casual touch that set his nerves on fire. "You’re leaving yourself open here," they murmured, their skin grazing his, their voice close enough to send a shiver down his spine.

A current shot through him, sharp and electric, but he rolled his shoulders, masking his reaction behind a rough mutter. “Ain’t used to sparrin’ against dancers.”

“You’ll learn,” they replied, their smirk tugging back into place, the hint of that earlier mischief glinting in their gaze again.

For a moment, they both fell silent, the night air cooling around them. E’s eyes shifted upward, to the expanse of stars overhead, and Logan felt the pull too. The sky was scattered with pinpricks of light, stretching endlessly into the dark. It reminded him of how vast everything was, how small he was within it, how his years—his long, battle-hardened years—were just a blink in the vastness above. And yet here, with them, under this open sky, he felt strangely anchored.

Beside him, E’s voice softened, thoughtful. “You ever feel like you don’t belong anywhere?”

Their words hit him, catching him off guard, reaching into places he usually kept sealed. It gnawed at him, the way they stood there looking like a piece of the sky had touched down, that soft glow in their eyes, one of peace, of gratitude, maybe even of kinship. There were few people who’d ever asked him something like that, fewer still who might actually understand the answer.

“More often than you’d think,” he muttered, the words escaping before he could second-guess them. He kept his eyes trained on the stars, the expansive sky above, as if it could ease the ache that always lingered somewhere in his chest. “Don’t matter where I go, or who I’m with—there’s always this… hole. Even when I’ve got a good thing goin’ on.”

They stayed quiet, listening, and somehow that silence gave him the space to keep talking.

“I got a family here, I know that. Hell, got more people than I ever thought I’d get who actually care if I stick around or not,” he said, his voice gruff, but his words open. “But sometimes… feels like I’m just borrowin’ time. Waitin’ till somethin’ pulls me back out there.” He motioned vaguely to the woods, to the wild that always seemed to call his name when he lingered too long within four walls.

E shifted, their eyes softening, and that glow in them brightened almost imperceptibly, as if his words, raw as they were, had stirred something in them. They looked at him in a way that felt like understanding, a wordless acceptance of the parts he rarely let anyone see. He felt his pulse stir again, just under his skin, something vulnerable and hungry for connection clawing its way out.

“Maybe you’re meant to belong somewhere that’s not on a map, you know?” They tilted their head thoughtfully, a gentle shrug in their shoulders. “I know that sounds… vague, but some of us are a little too wild, even for this world. Doesn’t mean you’re without a place, Logan. Maybe it’s just somewhere different.”

Logan let the words sink in, feeling the honesty in them settle like warmth into his chest. He wasn’t used to anyone framing it like that. Usually, the mansion’s residents treated his absences like quirks, a fact of his nature, but it was different with E. They seemed to see through his wanderlust, to recognize something in it that went deeper than just the need to roam.

“Hell, maybe,” he murmured, running a hand through his hair as he tried to shrug off the sudden vulnerability that gripped him. “Dunno if anyone ever told me it was all right to be that way.”

“Guess I just did,” they said, that teasing gleam returning, but softer this time. “Wherever you belong, Logan… you’re welcome in my orbit.”

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “What happened to ‘I don’t need anyone, especially not you’?” His voice was rough, but there was an unmistakable spark of curiosity in his eyes.

E’s expression faltered for a moment, a flicker of defensiveness tightening their features before they smoothed it out. “I don’t need anyone,” they repeated, but the words held a different tone now—less sharp, more open. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t offer a place to someone who needs it… if they want it.”

The words hung between them, suspended in the night air. Logan felt himself drawn to them again, a subtle battle between reason and instinct churning inside him once more. The reasonable part of him couldn’t fathom giving in to that unspoken need, but another part of him, primal, wanted to reach out, to take up their offer without a second thought. So against his better judgment, he let himself step closer, studying the way they seemed to radiate with a quiet strength, a calm that fed into his own unrest in a way he couldn’t quite grasp.

E met his gaze, eyes steady and searching. “Who knows, maybe it could calm the need to wander for a time.”

A flicker of something softened Logan’s expression as he watched them, the words settling deep. “Not a lotta people see me,” he admitted, his voice gruff but his gaze locked onto theirs. “Not like this.”

E smiled, soft but sure. “Maybe because most people aren’t looking in the right places.”

They reached out, their hand brushing his forearm lightly once again, this time lingering—grounding him as much as it startled him. The tension between them was palpable, gnawing at his insides, at that hollow void that filled him. It felt like their connection was solidifying, and it was dangerous. It made his pulse race, his mind screaming at him to pull back, even as every fiber of him longed to stay close. He felt the warmth of their fingers as they pulled away, leaving a faint tingle in their wake. And suddenly, he wanted to know more about them—where they came from, what scars they hid beneath their words and allure, where they honed their fighting skills, what their true power was. So many questions burned on his lips, but he settled for something less intrusive instead.

“What about you… you ever stick around long enough to feel like you could belong somewhere?” he asked, voice low. He didn’t know where the question came from, only that it was out there now, drawn out by a need to connect, another piece of himself he rarely showed.

E paused, searching his eyes. “Once, maybe,” they murmured, and for a moment, a flicker of something deeply personal passed over their face. “But not for a long time.”

The weight of their words hung between them. They shifted again, the lingering sorrow barely visible before it was replaced by their usual confidence. But Logan caught it, the faint sadness, the echo of a familiar ache that mirrored his own. For just a heartbeat, they weren’t his rival, his partner in combat—they were something else, something fragile and human, someone who understood, and it awakened his protective instincts, making his claws itch under his skin.

“Guess we both got a little lost along the way,” he said softly.

They nodded, still holding his gaze, that warm glow growing just a touch brighter. “Then maybe we don’t need a map tonight. Just… a moment to be here.” Their eyes softened, catching his, and the way they looked at him, as if he was the only other soul in the universe, chipped away at some wall he hadn’t even known was still there.

Logan managed a rough smile, a smirk that barely covered the pull he felt toward them. “Guess I could live with that.”

E’s smile spread, almost in relief, as the two of them stood there—not fighters, not strangers, but two people sharing the same quiet space under the stars, filling the empty places between them, if only for a little while. Before he could stop himself, his thumb found its way to their cheek. The pull between them felt almost tangible, a lifeline connecting two drifting souls lost in the unending current of life.

Their face relaxed instantly under his touch, their eyes closing as a deep sigh escaped their lungs. They sensed his desire before he even realized what he was about to do. The world around them seemed to fade, the rustle of leaves and distant hum of crickets dissolving into the quiet thrum of their hearts. He leaned in, his lips so close they could feel the warmth of his breath, the space between them charged with anticipation.

And then they felt it—a subtle, almost magnetic pull as the energy began to flow, unbidden, from him to them. It was faint, like the first tremor of a storm. Panic flickered behind their eyes as they opened, the realization sharp and immediate. With a graceful tilt of their head, E shifted just enough for his lips to brush their cheek instead, the warmth there a bittersweet reminder of what could have been.

Logan froze for a moment, surprise flickering across his expression before he blinked, as if shaking off a spell broken by the soft press of his lips against their cheek. He pulled back, eyes searching theirs for answers, confusion and something deeper swirling in their depths. The space between them thickened, heavy with the unspoken.

“I—” E’s voice wavered, a soft, apologetic smile tugging at their lips as their fingers drifted to the necklace at their throat, the cool pearl grounding them. “It’s late,” they said, each word layered with unexpressed longing.

Logan’s brows knit together, confusion still etched across his face as he took in their expression, the unguarded look that spoke of things they couldn’t voice. E took a long, steady look at him, memorizing the rough kindness in his eyes and the silent question he wouldn’t push. The pull between them ached with what they had to refuse.

With a deep breath, E took a step back. “Goodnight, Logan.”

The silence lingered as he watched them walk away, their silhouette fading into the night. Logan couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted—something deeper than he’d anticipated. And for the first time since they’d met, he wondered just how much control he truly had over the pull that tethered him to them, an unknown force that defied the walls he’d spent a lifetime building.

To be continued…

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[randomimaginesideas]

Together again (Revisted/rewritten, full one-shot)

Summary;  Valtor saves you from your prison which separated you for 17 years. When you two are finally together again, plans must be formed and you two need to have a good look at each other after 17 years.  

A/N; So it's finally here. The revisited/rewritten chapter of together again. This time I decided not to split it up into two parts, so it's just one big chapter.

In case you are wondering you can find the original post here: (1) (2)

If case you prefer you can also read this new version on AO3 here.

So a little background information:

I wrote this one-shot orignally back in 2021, and I believe I had only written one smut scene before this in my Klaus Hargreeves one-shot. Reading the original together again chapter made the cringe terribly, especially the smut part because it just felt like they were going through steps. Kiss, take clothes off, foreplay, sex and done. This time, I hoped to give the scene a bit more emotion and context.

I also added in some new information regarding reader's and Valtor's relationship. Back then, I didn't know I would continue their story in Let me Rage, so I didn't give a lot of information away in together again. So with the rewrite I wanted to establish their relationship a bit more, for the readers continuing in let me rage.

I'm sorry for the long wait as I was having a terrible writer's block, which is slowly lifting up, but for now I am just writing what my brains wants me to write and not forcing anything.

Please let me know what you think of this revisted work, do you like this version better or the older one?

Ps: I want to dedicate this new one-shot to @winx-is-magic as a orignal fan from the first fic, and for the constructive feedback she had given me back then to inspire to rewrite this one-shot with hopefully better grammer and punctuation. And since her comments underneath the first part always motivated me to keep this rewrite going. Even if she didn't know it, but perhaps she does now. So thank you.

Trigger warnings; Smut (this includes vaginal sex, unprotective sex, oral sex in which the female recieves, not beta-read work.

With a loud bang the wooden doors of Griffin’s office flew open, hitting the wall in the process. The Trix, who had been patiently waiting - or more like dozing off- , immediately jumped up startled. The man they had been waiting for made his way through the door, which closed behind him immediately with the same loud bang as it had opened. “Valtor, you look like you are about to bring this whole tower down.” Icy noted as she saw the fury on Valtor’s face. An emotion he didn’t show often, which was the first clue to the Trix that something was wrong. But despite that Stormy couldn’t help but mutter under her breath, “And us along with it.” 

The Trix quickly shut their mouth when Valtor’s gaze landed on them, but when he saw the look on the Trix’s eyes he quickly straightened his face. It almost worked, but the Trix could still see the fury in Valtor’s eyes and the way his jaw was clenched. “I just had an interesting chat with your previous headmistress.” Was Valtor’s explanation before he made his way towards the desk. On it was a crystal ball that he often used for scrying, just like he did now. 

With a wave of his hand the crystal ball started to glow. The Trix couldn’t see much from the distance they were standing, only that it was raining at the place Valtor was looking at. Valtor saw a garden, the fountain Griffin had described, standing in a maze. Despite the rain that was coming down, the scene almost looked peaceful. Except for the multiple guards surrounding the area, more than normal.

Having seen enough Valtor waved his hand again, the light from the crystal dying down again. “Valtor, where are you going?” Icy said to him, while Valtor made a portal appear in the middle of the office. “Solaria.” Was the only reply the Trix got before Valtor walked through it and disappeared from their sight. The Trix quickly exchanged a look between the three of them, nodded, and followed after him through the portal.

The Trix stood in another office, this one more light than the one from Cloud Tower. Standing behind the desk was Countess Cassandra or rather soon-to-be Queen Cassandra. It was clear that she hadn’t expected any visitors, guiding the shocked expression on her face and spell readied in her hand. When she saw it was Valtor, she lowered her hand and the shocked expression morphed into a more peaceful one.

“Valtor. I did not expect you. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” Countess Cassandra asks, smart enough to know that there had to be a reason for the dark wizard to visit her. She doubted he was just passing by for a cup of tea. “Your majesty,” Valtor started, the charm working as a pleased smile stretched across Lady Cassandra’s face. “I only wish to take a undisturbed stroll through the royal gardens. The fountain in the maze in particular holds my interest.” This caused Lady Cassandra to raise one eyebrow. “The maze, may I ask why?”

“You may, but it’s nothing to concern yourself about. You won’t even notice I’ve been there.” Valtor’s answer was cryptic, but Lady Cassandra and the Trix both knew that Valtor wouldn’t reveal any more. If he had wanted them to know, they would. The countess spared one look at the Trix, who were standing behind Valtor. The portal had closed the moment their feet had touched the office floor. The Trix just looked back at the countess, daring her to say anything.

With that Countess Cassandra nodded, and made her way towards the hallway. Valtor made himself and the Trix invisible as they walked behind the countess. The four of them were still wanted criminals after all. It wasn’t as if Valtor wasn’t able to bring Solaria down to its knees, but it would draw too much attention for now. It was better to take it another time. As they walked through the hallways the guards they passed bowed slightly for Countess Cassandra as she passed. Valtor focused his mind on that of the countess, using a new spell he recently learned to speak into her mind. I see you made yourself at home already. He had to give the countess some credit as her face betrayed nothing. I have. Came a reply in her mind, but Valtor could see a slight small on the side of her face.

Eventually they reached two glass doors which reached almost to the ceiling. Two guards opened them for their future queen, and out the group walked into the garden. Only one of the three suns from Solaria shining down on them. Two of them had lost their glow after their power had been taken. The power that now resides within Valtor. It was raining, Valtor knew that the rain hadn’t stopped falling ever since he had taken the power of the suns. With a wave of his hand the rain deflected from him, and the Trix followed his example. The countess had created a magical umbrella to keep the rain away. 

The group ended their walk at the beginning of the maze where two guards were standing. “You may go. I wish to enjoy a peaceful walk in the maze.” Countess Cassandra said, waving her hand in dismissal. The two guards exchanged a look before they turned back to the countess. “With all due your respect, my Lady, we are on strict orders from King Radius to stand guard here.” Countess Cassandra looked annoyed, and placed a hand on her hip. “And why does the King wish to protect some bushes?” Valtor debated just going inside the maze, and tearing down anybody who stood in his path. But he knew that patience came to those who waited. His plan was going to be easier if the guards were gone.

“We don’t know the details, my Lady. Only that it was on the advice of headmistress Faragonda.” The other guard answered. “And who’s order do you follow? Mine, your queen-to-be, or a headmistress who isn’t even on this planet?” Valtor wasn’t sure if the way the countess was handling the situation would be the solution. “Actually we follow the orders of King Radius, my Lady.” One of the guards countered. Valtor had to repress a small laugh threatening to spill from his lips. He had to hand it to the guards, they were loyal to their king, but things were taking too long. Perhaps he wasn’t so patient after all.

Valtor had been preparing a spell to put the guards asleep when the countess took a step closer to the guards. She had straightened her back and her chin up in the air, looking more royal than she had before. “After King Radius, you follow my orders. I will allow you one more chance to follow my orders. Otherwise I will fire you from this position and you can go home without any means of ever getting a job on this planet.” Countess Cassandra looked at the other guard, who had grown pale. “This goes for you as well.” 

Valtor doubted if it was wise to threaten the very subject the Countess hoped to rule soon, but he wasn’t going to interfere. When he ruled the magic dimension the countess could rule how she saw fit. But, apparently, it did work. The guards exchanged another look with each other before bowing their heads. “Yes, my Lady.” They said in unison before they walked off.

The group continued their way through the maze. It was clear Cassandra had been here before and knew the way. The group reached the middle of the maze where the fountain stood, along with five more guards. “King Radius has dismissed you for the next two hours. I wish to enjoy some peace and quiet. If anything should happen I will call for you.” The countess said, this time using a different approach. Now that she knew the orders the guards were under it was easier to dismiss them. And so they went.

When it was safe, and the group was alone Valtor dismissed the invisibility spell causing him and the Trix to appear again. Not minding the group, Valtor immediately walked closer to his target. His eyes on one particular thing only. The Trix also walked closer, now finally being able to see the reason for their visit. Valtor had mentioned in Countess Cassandra’s office that his interest lay with the fountain but they didn’t know why.

It was a square shaped fountain with each corner representing either one of the three suns or the moon. In the middle stood multiple statues on top of two layers. The first layer was made out of marble pixies and ocean gate keepers holding watering cans and wands where the water sprouted out.

The next layer consisted of different images. The Trix didn’t recognize all of them, but a few images with Cloud tower, Alfia and Red fountain they remembered as the history of the school. Valtor knew that the other images depicted the history of Solaria, and how they contributed to the build of the schools.

The top layer held four life size figures. On the far right stood, at first glance, a man with one arm raised holding a sword. At closer inspection it was clear that man was more a boy, the youthful characteristic would make the boy around seventeen years old. The outlines in the marble statue showed the signature red fountain clothing. In his remaining hand, holding it close to his chest, was the old red fountain building in miniature scale.

Next to the Red fountain student, more to the middle of the platform, was a girl. With her petite wings, a dress that twirled around her legs that kept her feet raised from the platform it looked like she was flying. The fairy had her arms reaching out, slightly bending forward as if offering something. In her hand she too held a miniature scale of her representation school.

On the far left was the statue that represents Cloud tower. The miniature scale building was carved into a marble sphere, making it seem as if the female in question was levitating in it. The artist had managed to carve a smile that looked sinister but also unbothered depending on how you looked at the statue. 

And in between the witch and fairy statue was a final statue. It was different from the other three. The female statue, as seen by her hair and clothes and outline of her body, held no statue, and seemed far more detailed than the others. The statue was also less dirty than the others, no moss or algae grew on her feet, unlike the others. It was as if even nature didn’t dare touch her. She held two hands next to her body, palms outstretched as if preparing to attack. A look of rage is displayed on her face. Even from where he was standing Valtor could feel it from the statue, as if the marble was trying its hardest to contain the rage inside of it. 

“Put on display for everybody else to see. A fate worse than mine.” Valtor muttered underneath his breath. His eyes were not drifting from the statue as he addressed the countess. “How long ago was this built?” From the corner of his eyes he could see Countress Cassandra shrug her shoulders. “I think about seventeen years ago, I’m not sure. I believe it was a gift to King Radius from the head of the schools, as a thank you for all the financial support Solaria has given over the years.”

Valtor gave a short nod to show he understood. “Thank you for your help, but I’ll handle it from here.” The countess hummed, and then slowly turned around. She knew a dismissal when she saw one, and while normally she wouldn’t let anyone dismiss her just like that, she knew that it was in her best interests to keep Valtor on her good side.

When the countess was away the Trix walked closer to Valtor, looking at the fountain that had captured the dark wizard’s attention. “So,” Darcy started. “What is so important about this fountain that made you drag us all the way here?” To the Trix the fountain was just an ordinary fountain, a bit tacky in their opinion or odd, but nothing special. “I didn’t ask you to join me, did I?” Valtor’s voice was cold as he glanced over his shoulder at Darcy and her sisters.

Darcy, out of pure instinct, took a step back. Valtor had been cold towards them before, angry even, but this time it had been something in his eyes that had made her take a step back. It was different from all the other times. But they just didn’t know why yet. “Now that you are here you might as well help me.” Valtor said, while turning his gaze back to the fountain. “Focus all your energy on the statue’s, focus on the curse surrounding them.” He ordered them. The Trix shared a look between the three of them, looking to the other to see what they would do. “Of course, Valtor. Let’s go ladies.” Icy was the first one to break the silence, and lifted herself in the sky, but not high enough to appear above the maze.

Her sister’s followed her lead, joining her in the air and surrounded the fountain. Valtor placed his hands in front of his chest as if in prayer, closing his eyes for a moment. “I can’t do this without you, it is time you return to me.” He whispered against his hands, energy started to crackle between his hands, as he slowly spread them apart. It may have, indirectly, been his fault that she was the state she was in, but he had promised her that he would be there for her. He would hold her again, after seventeen years apart. And after they had defeated the Winx and ruled the magic dimension they would have all the time in the world together. 

Valtor’s eyes briefly searched for the Trix, seeing that they were finding themselves in a similar position he was in. “Now.” And at the same time four energy beams hit the statue’s on the platform. The three average statues crumbled immediately under the force of the power directed at them. Slowly cracks started to form in the remaining statue, but it was a slow progress. The Trix started to look tired, and sweat formed on their foreheads. The curse was stronger than he thought it would be after all these years. “Keep going.”

Just a few seconds later Valtor could hear the marble crack, when he did he stopped sending his magic and the Trix followed quickly after. The remaining parts of the statue were glowing, and between the cracks Valtor could see the first pieces of her. Her (S/C) skin, and (H/C) strings of hair. Then another crack followed by a big explosion of light. The energy from the spell rang across the open space. The gust of wind blew the Trix back into the bushes of the garden. 

Valtor had quickly closed his eyes during the explosion, but just as quickly opened them again. It only took seeing your knees buckle that Valtor immediately flew up, as he caught you before you could fall off the platform. You fell against his chest, as he quickly wrapped his arms around you. Your skin felt strange as it was finally able to move, the sky - however dark it was - hurts your eyes, so as quickly as you had seen a glimpse of the world, you had closed them again. And you were so tired, your energy completely depleted, as if you had been casting the spell you had prepared for years. You would laugh if you could. You suppose you had been casting it, concentrating on it. You just had never finished the spell. But the thing that stood out most, among all your senses that were being overloaded was the smell. 

It smelled familiar, like leather, and spices or a smoldering fire. It was a scent you knew quite well. One you would recognize out of thousands. Your hand, you could use it again now, held on tightly to the fabric beneath it. Afraid to let this illusion slip away from you. Your mind must be playing tricks on you. You have finally gone crazy. You were so tired. “V-val..tor?” You tried to speak up, but your voice was dry from years of disuse. Your voice merely squeaks, but he knew what you were trying to say. “Ssh, rest (Y/N). You are safe, you are with me.” Valtor whispered to you. With the conformation of his voice, you close your eyes. Fatigue overtaking you, now that your body and mind knew you were safe.

Valtor held on to you, as he carefully removed his coat, before he picked you up bridal style. His coat, that he had made float in the air, draped over your body. When you were safely in his arms, he flew back down to the ground. In the short time he had been busy with you, the Trix had managed to get themselves out of the bushes. “Why does she get the special treatment?” Stormy commented, but Valtor ignored it. His head perked up at the sounds of guards approaching.

“We need to go.” Darcy said as the footsteps grew closer. Valtor wasn’t worried about the guards. He knew he could take them on, but attacking the guards or making a spectacle of it was of no use to him at the moment, it hadn’t been earlier and especially not now.. He had her back in his arms, and if everything went according to plan the Winx and the company of light would be none the wiser of her return. But for that they needed a quick and efficient escape. And so Valtor opened a portal in front of him, and stepped through it. The scenery around him changed from the rainy garden in Solaria to the dry office in Cloud Tower. As soon as the Trix had followed behind him, the portal closed. “Stay here.” Was all Valtor said to the three witches as he made his way to Griffin’s bedroom, the one he had made his own during their stay in Cloud Tower.

The door closed behind him, the shining outline of the door indicating the magic that was at work. Just like it was with the curtains that closed themselves, and a few candles that started burning. All the while Valtor made his way towards the bed, and laid you down in the middle of it. One of his free hands grabbed the covers, placing them on top of you. With his other hand Valtor had reached for his coat, thinking you would prefer the covers, but when he saw how tightly you were holding on to it, pressed against your chest and your nose buried into it, he couldn’t bear to part you from it. And so he just raised the covers above it, so you were lying under the coat, with the covers on top of the coat. Your barriers against the world. 

Valtor sat down next to you for a moment, his gloved hand stroking your bare cheek, before picking up a piece of your hair and placing it behind your ear. You looked almost peaceful, if not for the dark circles under your eyes, the scratches and wounds that had been there when you were first imprisoned still on your body. And the way you had been holding on so tightly against him, against his coat. Had you missed him just like he had missed you? Had you been conscious as well, all this time? Watched as people stared at you, passed you by as if you were not somebody to be feared, to be respected? Just the thought of it made Valtor angry.

Valtor knew he would have to handle the Trix first before he would join you in bed, before he would take the time to hold you into his arms peacefully. But when he moved even slightly on the bed, one of your heads reached out unexpectedly, holding onto his wrist tightly. “D-don’t leave me again.” Your voice was still rough, and it was clear it took a great effort to say this one sentence. It had been a while since he had seen you this vulnerable. But he also knew how you could rise from the darkness you were in right now. How you could make the world bow to your wishes. Valtor hated to admit it at first, but he knew he was stronger with you by his side. And now the two of you were together again.

“Do not worry, my love. I have one more task to take care of, and then I will not leave your sight until you grow bored of me.” He said, while kneeling down next to the bed. He moved his wrist to his mouth to place a kiss on the fingers that had been holding on so tightly against him. “I have you back in my arms, I wish not to be removed from them for any longer than I have too.” Your fingers slowly released his wrist, and went back to your own chest. Valtor leaned over the bed to press a kiss on your forehead, before he slowly rose up again.

Behind the closed doors, when it was just the two of them, Valtor wasn’t afraid to show the affection he held for you. And he had to admit that even his little act in the garden, had been more affection that he would usually show. It was an agreement that you had made long ago. Love made you stronger, but it was also a weakness. If their enemies knew just how much you meant to each other, instead of just partners in crime, they would do everything they could to use it against you. When you and him ruled the magic dimension, together, would you show the world what you mean to each other. A king and queen of darkness and shadows.

“I will be back, I promise.” Valtor said again, and he watched as you closed your eyes. Sleep overtaking you again. Valtor carefully made his way out of the bedroom, and back towards the office where the Trix were still patiently, or not so patiently, waiting for an explanation. Valtor ignored them, as he took his place on the seat behind the desk. “Well, are you going to explain yourself, Valtor?” Icy demanded, breaking the silence in the room. She walked toward the desk, placing her hands against it as she leaned against it. An amused smile crept on Valtor’s face, amused by the thought that Icy thinks she could intimidate him. “What should I explain then, my dear Icy?” As he leaned back in the chair, and folded his hands together in his lap. “Who is she, and why did we just save her from being a garden accessory? Why not start with that.”

One of Valtor’s eyebrows rose up, as he looked at the Ice witch. It was clear that Icy was talking to him the way she was out of jealousy. Demanding answers from him, as if she was entitled to them. “Do not forget who you are speaking to, Icy. I do like you and your sisters, but do not think that I will be able to send you to places far worse than the omega dimension should you continue to disrespect me.” The witches looked at him like he had thrown a glass of cold water in their faces. Good, let them be reminded of their place. If he won’t do it, you certainly will. The Trix won’t know it, but it was better if he did it instead of you. Although he did enjoy it when you were jealous.

“But, I am nothing if not an understanding man, and you will get to know her soon better, so it’s best to get some things clear beforehand.” Valtor had placed a hand on his chest for a moment, the glare in his eyes faded away and a charming smile had taken its place on his face. The dark wizard turned into a charming gentleman. “The woman we just rescued is (Y/N). The state she was in was because of me. The company of life cursed her to be a statue, as punishment for her aid in my crimes against the magic dimension.” 

As Valtor told them this, he could see doubt across Darcy and Stormy features, probably thinking if something like that could happen to them. But it was only because Valtor had been paying close attention to the Trix that he had seen it. He had to give the Trix credit for after that, their bodies betrayed nothing. “She is my right hand, as some would say.” He added, letting those words sink in with the Trix. And he could see some slight betrayal in their eyes, and maybe even a bit of hurt. Oh, dear. Perhaps he had charmed them a bit too much. Valtor could understand that the Trix thought themselves to be his right hand, since they hadn’t known of your existence. But they could have never replaced you. Valtor had just needed to figure out where the company of light had hidden you. 

It surprised Valtor that Darcy was the one to speak up first, thinking that Icy would have taken the lead. But it seemed that the Ice witch was just too absorbed with taking all this information in. But the slow ice forming on the desk beneath Icy’s hands betrayed the inner turmoil happening inside the witch’s mind.  “So what are we? Your minions, to do with as you command?”

Valtor knew that he had to play his card right at this moment. The Trix were useful, even if they had failed at some of the missions he had sent them on. And even if they may not be his right hand, every army needs generals. The Trix would fit that part, even with their mistakes. They were still trainable. With your help he would be able to shape them into the generals he needed while you and him gained the power of the magic dimension.

Valtor scoffed. “Of course not. Do you think so little of me?” Valtor asked, his voice almost sounding offended. “Do you think I will go through the things we have with just mere minions?” Valtor slowly rose from his chair, casually walking through the office, addressing Darcy and Stormy by looking them in the eyes. “The way I speak with you, the way I ask for your help, and ask your opinions. You think yourself as low as the Countess from Solaria? She is a minion, a means to a hand.” Valtor walked towards Icy, and gently grabbed her left hand away from the desk. The witch looked at him with calculated eyes, as she was trying to guess what point Valtor was trying to make. 

“You three are my left hand. Just as important as my right.” He looked Icy in the eyes, as he said it. He could see the ice witch almost melted, if it were possible. Then Valtor turned his head to look at all three of the witches, slowly dropping Icy’s hand. “I could not have done the things we have done without you, my witches, and I am grateful for it. So please, never see yourself as ‘just my minions’ again.” And with those final words, he could see the last of the Trix’s doubts fade from their eyes.

Now, with that taken care of, Valtor placed his hands together. “Now, if you will excuse me, I will make sure our companion is healed up. While I do that, I want to ask you to make sure I am not disturbed, and that Griffin is still alive, and in her cell where she should be.” Valtor wasn’t worried that Griffin had broken out, but he had left her in quite a state, and he had learned one thing throughout his life. Never underestimate anybody, that way they can’t surprise you. And this way, it would keep the Trix busy while he was with you. Luckily, the Trix agreed, and left quickly without making a fuss.

The moment the door closed behind them Valtor sealed the office door with his most powerful lock spell. Then he made his way back towards the bedroom, and gently opened the door. He didn’t want to disturb the rest you so clearly needed. You were still lying in the middle of the bed. The covers slowly rose with each breath you took. The shadows in the room were restless, twisting and turning as their mistress was recovering her strength, subconsciously obeying your command of blocking out the sun coming through small gaps in the curtains. 

As Valtor began to walk the shadows on the floor twisted and made way for him so he could see the ground until he reached the bed. When he did, Valtor gently pulled his coat from his shoulders, and placed it on the foot of the bed,then his gloves before taking his shoes off as well. Then he took his place beside you, lifting the covers as he did. You were lying on your side, and Valtor found his place behind you, his arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you against his chest.

You reached for his arm, holding it closer to your own chest. Your breath gently tickled his fingers. You laid like this together for a while, just enjoying the warmth of each other’s bodies, knowing that after seventeen years you were together again. Valtor was slowly drifting off to sleep when your voice pierced the silence. “I thought I had lost you forever.” Your voice was soft, and almost sounded broken. As if saying the sentence out loud was enough to crush your heart. 

Valtor gently turned you around in his arms so you were facing him. There were no tears in your eyes, but he saw how much the years had taken a toll on you. “I failed you, I tried to save you when they captured you in the ice, but I couldn’t. I’m sorry.” Valtor placed his hand on your cheek, sushing you gently as he did. He did not need to hear your apology. There was no reason to apologize. You did everything you could have done at the moment. “And still you came back for me.” You couldn’t help but add, despite Valtor’s actions.

Valtor was almost insulted by the addition. The slight questioning tone as if you couldn’t believe he would search the entire magic dimension for you? Or beyond it? “My love,” He said gently, stroking your cheek while looking you in the eyes. “my heart is so full of you, I can hardly call it my own. And if you think I would live without my heart, you are mistaken.” Valtor reached forward to press a kiss on your forehead. 

When Valtor placed his head back on the pillow again, you placed your hand on the one holding your cheek. “We have a new chance now. I will not fail you again.” Your voice was resolute, full of promise as you gently squeezed his hand. A smile crept on Valtor’s lips as he slowly saw your strength return to you. “You are correct. I already have the strength of Solaria, the secrets of Andros, Domino is destroyed, Griffin’s school is under my power and it’s headmistress is currently occupying her own dungeons.” The smile on your face grew larger and larger, the more Valtor informed you about the current situations. “And with you back at my side, there is nothing that could stop us this time.” 

“What about the company of light?” You asked. The situation was looking good, but despite that you weren’t one to underestimate your enemies. The company of light had beaten you once, they could do it again. “The company of light is destroyed. Oritel and Marion are dead, Faragonda and Saladin are old, and Griffin can’t hurt us any longer, and Hagen wants nothing to do with the company anymore.” Your eyebrow rose up at the news. “So there is nobody who can stop us anymore?” You highly doubted it, so you wondered what Valtor wasn’t telling you.

“There is a new group of self proclaimed heroes. They call themselves the Winx, and are students from Alfia. No doubt Faragonda has something to do with their self proclaimed heroism.” You pulled Valtor’s hand away from your cheeks, playing with his fingers as it now lay in between you. “Have they caused trouble before?” Valtor wouldn’t have mentioned them if they hadn’t. “Not too much yet, but some of them have been able to break through my dark spells with the help of their Enchantix.” Valtor knew you well enough to know what question you would ask next, so he added; “Only two of the six of them have managed to gain their Enchantix powers.”

“Then we need to make sure it stays that way.” You said grinning. “I’m confident you will come up with something.” Valtor looked you up and down. Some color coming back to your face, and the hand that had been playing with his fingers slowly started to gain its strength again. “You seem to be starting to get better.”

“I am. I feel my strength slowly returning to me.” You confirmed before pressing a kiss on his fingers. “I should leave you to rest.” Valtor said, slowly moving his body to slowly leave the bed. But before he could go far you pulled him closer to you again, not wanting him to move even an inch further away from you. “And here I was, wondering when you are going to kiss me?”

“I have already kissed you.” Valtor said, one eyebrow raised. You brought his hand to your lips, letting his fingers glide over them. “Not on my lips, yet.” A smile crept on Valtor’s face at the mischievous smile on yours. “I’m sorry, how terribly foolish of me.” Valtor rose himself up, leaning on his upper arm as he leaned over you, your lips inches apart from each other. His long blond hair fell as a curtain around the two of you.  “A mistake I must rectify immediately.” His voice was low, almost breathless.

“Then what are you waiting for? I’ve waited-,” Valtor’s lips were on yours before you even finished your sentence. It started out slow, patience. The two of you are slowly exploring each other after your seventeen year separation. Your hand reached up, sliding past his cheek and into his long blond locks, pushing them back, ending on the back of his head. But it wasn’t for long until the kiss started to pick up the pace.

When Valtor softly bit your lower lip a soft gasp left your mouth, only to be swallowed up by Valtor. Your lips danced with his, only parting briefly to take a breath before they came back together again. You were starving for each other, exploring each other again after seventeen years.

Then Valtor slowly pulled away from you, only for his lips to connect with your skin. Your cheek, your neck, your shoulder blades. Your skin felt hot whenever his lips pressed against you, showing his love for you, his devotion. With his free hand he pushed aside the fabric covering the rest of your shoulder so he could continue his trail of kisses. As he moved his hair tickled against your skin. 

Valtor went lower, closer and closer to the middle of your chest. Could he feel your heart beating? The way it almost seemed to skip a beat because it couldn’t keep up with the way he made you feel. The way he made your blood race through your body, creating the flush in your cheeks. Just when you think Valtor would pull the fabric of your dress away to reveal yourself more to him, he pulls away.

“I think I should let you re-”

“Don’t you dare.” You practically growled at him as your hand in his hair tightened and pulled him back to you. An amusement laugh came from Valtor’s mouth as he listened dutifully to his own heart and continued his trail of kisses. “Wouldn’t dream of it, my love.” Since Valtor was still leaning on one of his arms to keep himself above you, he used his other hand to trail his fingers down your side, and up towards your dress. 

There was a breath of silence, both of you anticipating his next move, your eyes locking before Valtor reached for your dress and pulled your heart shaped sleeveless dress down, revealing your upper body to him. Despite your body feeling hot, your nipples still stood at attention, waiting for any kind of affection the man of your desire might give them.

Valtor’s eyes remained locked on yours as he kissed the soft mounds of your breast, alternating between the two of them. His breath graced your sensitive nipples, but his lips didn’t touch them yet. Instead Valtor wanted to torture you for a little bit longer, pressing kissing and little bites on the skin around them. “Valtor.” His name spilled from your lips as a prayer, and he listened. For how could he refuse you when you sounded this beautiful?

His lips finally pressed a kiss on one of your nipples, before he gently sucked. A small moan escaped your lips, as you slowly raised your hips at the sensation. Subconsciously you gently pulled on Valtor’s hair and a groan came from his lips, but you could feel him smile against your skin. 

After a few minutes Valtor pulled away, and this time you let him. Your breath came out quickly, as you kept your eyes locked on him. Valtor reached for your dress, hiking the rest of the fabric up to pull it over your head, leaving you in only your underwear since you hadn't needed a bra in this type of dress.

The two of you could just magically make your clothes disappear, and most times you did. But sometimes, like now, you two wanted the addition of taking each other’s clothes off. Of getting to undress another, to feel each other’s hands as you slowly revealed one another. To truly see each other. Like the way Valtor was looking at you right now. As if you were the center of the universe, his universe. As if you were the goddess of the universe, and him your loyal subject. As if he was made to worship at your feet, and worship you he would.

Anticipation filled your body as Valtor reached for you, crawling on top of you as he gave each of your breasts another kiss before he continued his path down. A kiss on your sternum, a kiss on your stomach, your navel, and just above the line of your underwear. Just as his hands moved to your hips to grab the edges of your underwear, his eyes locked with your again as he pulled them down.

You moved your hips up for a few moments to help him ease them off, before laying back down again. Valtor pressed a kiss on your pubic bone, and then on both insides of your thigh. Valtor slowly spread your legs, bearing you for him. His arms slid between your legs, as you had them slightly raised. One of his hands brushed over your hip and to your upper thigh, squeezing the skin underneath. His other hand found yours, which you didn’t notice until now, had been clutching the sheets. Your fingers entwine together, tightly holding onto each other.

“My heart, my love, let me worship you.” Valtor growled against your skin, as his kisses trailed lower and lower to the area between your legs. The place you need his lips, it had been ignored for so long. You longed, needed his touch, his lips, anything he would give you. "Please." A breathless plea was the only thing you managed to say, followed by a moan as Valtor’s lips finally made contact.

Your fingers gripped his fingers tightly as he worshiped you. It was not long before Valtor found the little button between your folds which made you see stars. He sucked, licked and kissed as if his survival depended on your pleasure. Perhaps it did, as you would surely kill him if he stopped now. No matter that he was the greatest wizard of all time. But luckily he didn’t.

Moans escaped your lips, along with his name as if in prayer. As if it was the only thing you knew how to say, but it wasn’t enough. You could feel your pleasure reach higher, and higher but you needed more. And so you tried your best to gather your thoughts through your lust filled brain to form a sentence. “My love, I need,-” A loud moan escaped your lips, and pulled you from your sentence as Valtor gave a hard suck on your clit. 

Luckily you didn’t need to gather your thoughts again as Valtor’s hand slipped from your upper thigh. Valtor pulled away for a moment, giving you a short moment to catch your breath. Then you feel the sensation of his fingers gliding through your folds. “My heart, you are soaking.” Valtor said, and you could hear the pride in his voice. You didn’t feel any shame, because you knew Valtor loved to see you like this. You could hear it in his voice, and see it in the way he looked at you.

“O-only for you.” You managed to say between breaths of air, and a dark chuckle escaped Valtor’s lips. “Mmmh.” You moaned as Valtor’s fingers slowly entered you. “I may hope so, for I pity the fool who dares touch what belongs with me.” belongs with him, not belongs to him. He truly sees you as his equal. You love this man, this wizard. You would travel to the darkest corners of the magic dimensions for him, you would die for him. If only he would continue to look at you like he is now, for him to love you like he does now. 

“V-valtor.” You moaned again as his lips now joined his fingers. The combining sensation of his tongue and fingers is enough to make your pleasure reach higher, and higher. Especially when he found that spot inside you that made you see stars. Your moans increased, your free hand grabbing his hair again to get a hold on him, to make sure he didn’t pull away, not now you were getting closer and closer to the edge of your pleasure. You were almost there, ready to throw yourself off the edge and fly.

“Come for me, my heart.” The vibrations of his growl added to the sensation, and with a loud moan you came apart. Behind your vision you saw light, and stars as your climax ripped through you. Valtor slowed down his ministrations to ease you back down from your high. 

When you opened your eyes again Valtor was looking at you with a satisfied smirk. You chuckled as you gave his hand a squeeze. “You are still wearing too many clothes for the next part.” You commented, earning another chuckle from Valtor, who in returns sat back on his knees, and slowly started to unbutton his blouse. Your eyes didn’t leave him for a second, wanting to take in any piece of skin that you have been missing for the last seventeen years.

When Valtor’s blouse was gone, you slowly pushed yourself into a sitting position. With the way he was still on his knees, you could easily reach for pants. Unbuttoning them as you looked up at him, and pulled his pants down, along with his underwear. You didn’t want to waste another second to see him in his full glory.

Valtor’s desire for you was evident, a drop of pre-cam leaking from his tip. He couldn’t wait to have you, to be inside of you, to feel you clench around him as you came undone. Just the thought of it was enough to make his cock twitch. Valtor saw you reach for him, but he placed his hands on your shoulders, gently pushing you back into the mattress again. “Another time, my heart. I need to be inside of you, sooner rather than later.”

Valtor quickly made work of his pants, pulling them down the rest of the way, as he crawled back on top of you. Your legs wound around his waist, as he slid his cock over your entrance a few times, coating himself in your arousal.

“I thought you needed to be inside-” Valtor slipped inside of you before you could finish your sentence, filling you up entirely. Your body needed to get used to his size again, but it only added to the sensation. Valtor taking your body, taking what belongs with him. A moan of his own had escaped his lips as he felt you tighten around him, as if even your body was trying to pull him even deeper. 

Valtor pulled back out again, before pushing himself back in again. Then he picked up the pace, leaning forward as your legs fully wrapped around him. He placed his elbows next to your face, and he leaned forward and captured your lips with his. You could feel your pleasure building again, as Valtor reached deep enough to hit that spot again which made your legs like jelly.

After your kiss Valtor slowly pulled away, and leaned back again. You already missed his skin against yours, but when he leaned back on his knees, grabbed your legs and placed them over his shoulders, you knew things were about to get serious. 

When your legs were over his shoulders, he pressed a kiss on one of your ankles, before Valtor set a brutal pace. In this new position Valtor was able to reach even deeper, and able to hit your G-spot even better. And this way you were even together for him, milking him for all he was worth. 

It wasn’t long that your second climax reached you, his name spilling from your lips like a prayer. And Valtor reached his pleasure not soon after. Your moans, the way you looked like a goddess, the way you clenched around him was enough for him to come undone. Just like you, but with your name on his lips, Valtor came.

When he came down from his climax Valtor slowly lowered your knees, massaging your legs to get the blood flowing again. Then he slowly pulled out, and he watched as the combined mixture of your juices slipped between your legs. Valtor waved his hand, and a wet towel appeared in it.

With the utmost care he cleaned you up first, before he did himself. When he was satisfied with the work, he made the towel disappear again. You had your eyes closed, and if Valtor didn’t know any better he would have thought you asleep. 

You had still been recovering from your seventeen years as a statue, and now with your activities you had used up all that energy. Not that you would complain, Valtor knew that. The two of you had needed this. To feel each other, to show each other the love between the two of you. The love that none of the outside world would know about until the time was right. 

Valtor knew you were awake, but just drowsy. His suspicions were confirmed when he laid down on his back beside you. You turned around to place your head on his chest, and one of your hands on his stomach. Valtor pulled the blankets over the two of you, before wrapping his arms around you.

“Please, just stay with me for a moment.” Your voice sounded sleepy, and Valtor knew it would only take a few moments for you to drift off to sleep again. He could feel his own eyes getting heavy as well. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a decent night's sleep. Probably because he didn’t have you in his arms. “Of course.” He pressed a kiss on the top of your head.

“I love you.” You said against his chest, fighting every instinct to fall asleep. Just wanting to hear those words replied back to you.

“I love you too.” Valtor confessed to the shadows, and their mistress that he was holding tightly against him.Not soon after he could feel your breath slow down, and he knew you were asleep. Not soon after Valtor fell asleep as well. Later they would strategize on how they would conquer the rest of the magix dimension. For now, he just wanted to sleep with the woman he loved, now that she was back in his arms for the first time in seventeen years. Now that they are together again.

[normansnt]

A book by its cover (Usopp x male!punk!reader)

This picture inspired me BIG time. Also I love that people are finally realizing how nice punks are🦦🧡 It may be a bit long but like not that long its aight I hope you like it

There are no warnings its just fluff🐥

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Black leather jacket with spikes, badges and whatnot. Spiky h/c hair piercings and tattoos all this with black ripped jeans with again different badges and other things on it and black combat boots. Usopp thought this looked quite scary. He looked quite scary. Well ok it looked badass not to mention the guy was handsome... but anyhow he looked like he was from a dark world which Usopp had no intention of entering

The strawhats docked on an island for supplies maybe a little rest and to reset the log pose they had about 1 maybe 1 and a half days. Robin, Nami and Sanji went shopping the girls for clothes Sanji to carry their bags and to buy food. Zoro went to drink beer and take a nap and Luffy went with him claiming he wants to eat (as always). Brook and Jinbe just wanted to look around town. That left Franky, Usopp and Chopper who wanted to go look for supplies for the ship or Usopps bombs and other things.

Thats where they saw him. The guy who sold every kind of parts for ships, to painting supplies, gases and more. He was a tall dude around 6'6 with h/l, h/c hair which was in spikes (or not you decide if it wasn't just ignore it), he had kind e/c eyes and greeted them with a friendly smile. Franky smiled back and got to business right away.

"Hey guys what can I help you with?" Asked the guy in a friendly tone. "We need some supplies for a ship" said Franky cautiously not to mention that they are pirates. "Oh you guys are the Pirates that just docked, ok what kind of parts do you need?" Said the s/c male. Franky, Usopp and Chopper stood there a bit baffled. Even after the guy knew they were pirates the kind smile didn't leave the strangers face.

While Franky was discussing the parts needed Usopp was quiet the whole time something was off with this guy, he looked scary (and handsome but Usopp did not admit that even to himself) but acted very kind and understanding. Not to mention based on what he heard from the conversation he knew what he was talking about. "HAHAHA" Frankies booming laugh got him out of his trance. The guy must have said something awfully funny since he was smiling as well a big smile, a very attractive smile. What? Usopp was very confused at this point. "I could really use someone like you on the ship to help with repairs wouldn't you say Usopp, Chopper?" Asked Franky smiling, the two were just standing there silently. "Sorry how rude of me" said the guy still smiling "I didn't even introduce myself Im Y/N". "Im Franky these two are Usopp and Chopper" smiled Franky while pointing at the two. Usopp and Chopper still didn't say anything. Teddy got down on one knee looked at chopper and reached in his pocket. The too scaredy cats were watching his every move when suddenly he pulled out candy from his pocket. "Do you want one little reindeer?" Asked Y/N with a smile Chopper immediately forgot his fear. Not only because the stranger had candy but because someone finally saw him as a reindeer at the first meeting and not a raccoon. He walked over to Y/N and took some candy. Y/N patted his head. Chopper looked up at him and a bit shyly but asked him: "what are those pointy things on your jacket?". The e/c eyed male laughed and answered: "They are spikes I wear them cuz I think it looks cool" smiled the man than put his tongue out in a rocker way to make the little reindeer laugh. Chopper did laugh and then asked: "Can I touch them?" Y/N smiled and motioned for him to come closer. Chopper liked his spikes very much he thought they are dangerous at first that they hurt, but they didn't. This way Chopper ended up sitting on Y/Ns shoulder. Usopp watched this whole scene with interest. You were THIS nice. Now he feels stupid for thinking you are mean or anything but the way you are dressed deceived him. Usopp was staring at you red faced. It was not only that you were really good looking you had the kindest personality as well and he really couldn't deny it any longer even to himself he liked you, a lot. Y/N looked at him next. "So you're Usopp?" He asked smiling maybe a bit red in the face...? Nah Usopps eyes were lying to him he surely just saw what he wanted to.

"I...uh...YES, I am the great captain Usopp indeed" he said while sweating trying to play it off full of pride. He was kind of embarrassed after a short silence and he was about to apologize when he heard the most pleasant laughter he had ever heard. Y/N laughed at his antics he thought it was hilarious. "Wow alright mighty and powerful captain Usopp" he said whit a mock bow, then they both started laughing Chopper didn't really get it he just sat on Y/Ns shoulder eating the Candy he got while Franky just looked at them with a knowing smile.

After they bought everything they needed (which took nearly the whole day since they had such a great time with Y/N) they had to go back to the ship. Usopp was not happy nor was Chopper and to be fair Franky also took a liking to Y/N so its safe to say none of them wanted to leave him on the island. Y/N was not happy either to see them go he had a great time and enjoyed Usopps funny antics to no end. How ever to recruit a new crew mate was not their job not to mention they had no idea if Y/N was any good in battle.

Usopp was sulking the whole way back. And on the ship as well. They planned to stay on the port of the island for the night then set sail in the morning.

Zoro was on night watch and all of a sudden he saw someone approaching the ship. He stood up to see if the person was actually coming to the ship, but there was no misunderstanding the person was coming to the ship with something on their shoulder and a small bag in their hand. Zoro reacted the moment he saw that that something on the strangers shoulders was an ax.

He jumped off the ship right on the stranger. However, to Zoros utter disbelief, they dodged it. Now that the street light helped him see he saw that it was a guy, wearing a leather jacket with spikes badges and what not. This did not interest him however the thing that bothered him was the ax on his shoulder and the fastness he dodged his attack with it was almost inhuman like.

"What do you want with this ship?" Asked Zoro accusingly. "Listen this is a misunderstanding-" but the stranger did not get to finish their sentence because Zoro attacked. To Zoros disappointed the stranger blocked all of his blows and dodged them with excellence and grace very much like he saw Mihawk do it. The only difference between this guy and Mihawk was that he didn't attack back he just kept defending and of course he used an axe. The rest of the strawhats woke up to this commission outside and watched the fight with shock. Someone holding their own against Zoro with one hand and a small axe without breaking a sweat or attacking back? This was crazy. The moment Usopp stepped on the front of the ship to see whats going on his eyes widened and he looked at Franky. "Isnt that-" "Yes he is" "shouldn't we-" "Yes we should" the two looked at each other then forward at the battle and started yelling "STOP STOP" very loudly Franky jumped off the ship to stop Zoro while Usopp ran over to Y/N to stop him as well.

"Huh?" Asked Zoro after Franky stood in front of him. "Why are you standing in the way?" He asked kind of upset, Franky didn't answer just looked at Y/N and asked "What are you doing here Y/N?".

"Im sorry to disturb your night but after I was going to close the shop I found Usopps bag, and I wanted to return it, so after I left the shop I tried to find your ship based on how you guys described it and well I got kinda lost thats why I only got here this late" explained the s/c male panting lightly due to dodging Zoros attacks. Usopp got red in the face, very red, he left his bag there and didn't even notice since he was busy thinking about Y/N all night. "Thanks Y/N so much somehow I didn't even notice" "Wait you know this punk?" Asked Zoro.

"Wow you're quick" laughed Y/N lightly this made others chuckle a bit as well. "We bought ship supplies from him he was the shop keeper we were telling you about during dinner" yelled Chopper excitedly while running to Y/N to sit on his shoulders. "I don't care what shop you own how did you dodge my attacks this effortlessly?" Asked Zoro still a bit pissed. "Oh thats all thanks to my dad he trained me all my childhood" answered Y/N truthfully. "Your dad? Who is your dad if I may ask the way you move reminds me of someone" asked Sanji. He took a liking to the punk the moment he made fun of Zoro. "Mihawk, Dracule Mihawk" Everyones jaw dropped with their eyes bulging out of their sockets. "MIHAWK HAS A KID???" Yelled Zoro shocked. "Yeah Im kind of used to these reactions however y'all are a bit extreme Im guessing you know him" said Y/N in a usual tone not very phased by their reactions."Join my crew" said Luffy all of a sudden. Nami screamed when she notice Luffy was standing next to her because when everyone came out he was still sleeping. "You look strong and I saw you fight then I heard you are Mihawks son you are joining my crew" said Luffy smiling big. "Oh... eh I really didn't plan on becoming a pirate..." started off Y/N. Then he looked at Usopp who was looking at him with hopeful eyes and then at Chopper who was looking with puppy eyes Franky also tried doing Puppy eyes but it looked rather creepy from a big man like him. It was still hard though Y/N liked this town not to mention his shop. "But you are joining" said Luffy still smiling then headed back to his bed like the discussion was ower "uh..." Y/N stood there confused, then Usopp started laughing, "Yeah Im afraid it isn't your decision " Usopp continued laughing then started to walk towards the ship. With everyone else "Come on Y/N you are our nakama now" smiled Usopp while grabbing his hand and walking to the Thousand sunny. Never judge a book by its cover I guess you could say that for any member of the Straw hat crew Y/N will fit right in.

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WELP

My second fanfic🥳

I wrote this for an embarrassingly long time even I don't know why lol💀

Anyway I LOVE Usopp he is so goofy and no mf in the world will tell me he isn't gay not yo mention Im a HUGE believer of trans Usopp so😗

SO I hope you liked this fic I will write more with time but I have things to do

Ladies, gentlemen and others I hope you enjoyed your reading, good afternoon good evening and goodnight🧡🦖

[make-friends-with-the-rats]

Thoughts on Katherine

she's the king of new york <3

How I feel about this character: Okay I have so many thoughts about her. She's definitely not perfect, but I love her anyways. She's just trying to become her own person and control her own life and I respect her for that. At the same time, she's lived as an upper class woman her whole life, so the newsies strike helps her open her eyes to the real struggles going on in her city and beyond when before she'd only read about those problems on the printed page. The strike and her involvement in it really is a turning point for her as a character both in her career and in the way she views the world.

All the people I ship romantically with this character: Jack and Katherine! I'll be honest, I wasn't a fan of Jatherine when I initially watched the stage version (having watched 92sies first). It just struck me as yet another Disney fairy tale ending type thing and I didn't like how their dynamic was portrayed or how the entire story seemed to be shifted to focus on the love story. The portrayals of Jack and Katherine in UKsies felt much more authentic to me and is what made me like them together. I'd also like to note that I personally see Katherine as being bisexual. Katherine is interesting to analyze because, intentionally or not, her disinterest in Jack in the beginning of the show, her frequent presence at Medda's burlesque/vaudeville shows, and the lyrics “I thought I knew what love was/ Now I’m learning what is true/ That love will do what it does” kinda feel like Katherine was attracted to women and then had bi panic when she met Jack... just saying. Also Sarah and Katherine is cool with me 👍

My non-romantic OTP for this character: David and Katherine, I just think they're neat! They're both sort of outsiders together in the beginning and then they're the ones who gang up on Jack and keep the strike alive when he's losing hope. Their experiences of the strike are so similar, going from outside observer to passionate leaders in their own rights. I honestly wish that the sort of middleman position David had between the newsies and Denton had been retained in the stage musical between David and Katherine just so he and Katherine could have more scenes together and be the besties that they are. Also Race and Kath, and Sarah and Kath.

My unpopular opinion about this character: Katherine was just written wrong. Not entirely, but there are inconsistencies in her character from Act 1 to Act 2. The writers were trying for both "strong independent woman" and "improved love interest/love story" at the same time and I really don't think they knew how to marry the two. And while the love story between Jack and Katherine was definitely more of a love story than the 'love story' between Jack and Sarah in 92sies, I really don't think there needed to be a love story in newsies at all and neither did Kenny Ortega himself or Jack and Sarah would have been focused on. But they weren't because other themes are much more important to the story. Plus, it's a little messed up that Denton could exist without being anyone's love interest and Katherine couldn't. Also, Katherine being Pulitzer's daughter was an unnecessary plot twist and is also in bad taste considering that she's named after a real Katherine Pulitzer who died when she was two. I think they should have stuck strictly to the Nellie Bly inspiration for her. (Please read up on her she is so cool.)

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: Hey how about we get some resolution on the state of Katherine's career? Is she still backlisted? What do you mean she's going to follow Jack wherever he goes?? What just happened??? Sorry but I hate that one line so much, she would not f--ing say that. I really wish that the women of newsies could coexist. Give me Sarah, and Katherine, and Medda, and Mrs. Jacobs, and Hannah, and let's throw Charlie back into the mix along with newsgirl Spot Conlon. These characters do not replace or substitute each other!! We need them all to bring their own unique perspectives and add more depth to the story!! Newsies is not just about the newsboys and I am so tired of there being a quota on female characters in newsies.

Thank you so much for asking!!

ask game

characters answered: David Jacobs, Jack Kelly, Blink and Skittery, Bumlets and Swifty, Sarah Jacobs, Specs and Dutchy, Les Jacobs, Crutchie, Snitch and Itey, Mush Meyers, Spot Conlon, Racetrack Higgins

[authorhjk1]

What do you use to write and post your fics? Computer or phone? If by phone, any idea how to add the keep reading line? Sorry for asking here its just that you inspired me to write and I wanted to test the waters. So hoping you could help me out with that and also how to gather thoughts when writing? Ty🙏🏻

Hi, no need to worry. You can ask me anything.

90% of the time, I use the Tumblr app on my phone to write and post my fics. If they're longer, like the Halloween fic, I eventually switch over to my laptop. Because towards the end my phone needed 5 seconds to load the draft and my display went black everytime. I was scared I'd lose the whole fic hahaha.

For the read more link, because I assume that's what your asking, is for me on the bottom right, right above my keyboard. Right next to the poll option.

Happy to hear you want to start writing.

I don't know how much you've written so far, so I can't really go into specifics. But there are two types of writers, I think. Those who plan the whole fic, before writing. And those who just start and only have a vague idea of how it's gonna go.

I'm usually the second type. I just start writing and end up somewhere. Sometimes that's where I want to be, sometimes I need to add scenes or change others a little afterwards to get there.

If you're asking on how to concentrate on writing, then I'd say, check out some pictures of the idols you are writing. That always helps me. Or do some research about the stuff you'd like to write, that way you can describe it in more details.

I also found that talking to other people and sharing your ideas helps a lot. You get a second perspective on certain things and some of their ideas can be really good and helpful.

With that being said, I hope all of your questions were answered properly. If not, feel free to text me or send me another ask. If you have more questions, that's fine as well.

Stay healthy and have fun!

[sopuu]

I love your art so much, it's such an inspiration :D

2 questions about your champion au

First of all, Who would Romeo transform into after he forces Lukas and Jesse to fight? I would imagine Jesse because he needs that sort of power to do stuff to Beacontown. I could be wrong-

Second, would there be a confrontation scene in your au? Like that one scene in episode 5, Lukas confronted Jesse. Would that happen? I'm curious because Lukas also got teleported to the sunshine institute.

ooh ok so for the first, romeo still turns into jesse bc as you said he needs to have jesse's status as hero in residence to have the power to run the town as he wants- but i think this impacts jesse a lot more than it did in canon bc it literally happens right after he goes through the whole being romeo's perfect champion hell. like imagine going through all that, realising you've finally escaped and reunited with your friends, just to get hit with another immensely stressful situation that involves not only your friends but also your townspeople and possibly the world? everything just keeps getting worse for him

also i have this scene in my head where after romeo disappears and drops them all to the ground, the gang rushes to jesse to check up on him. but all he can do is sit there with his head in his hands, shakily mumbling that he needs a moment while he breaks down a little and processes everything. it's like he took one step forward and two steps backwards. the weight on his shoulders just got heavier and he's the only one who can lift it, but he's just...so, so tired. (everyone sits by him during this, and lukas gently wraps him into a hug, rubbing circles on his back until jesse feels better. once he's mentally caught up on everything he perks right up and frets over them instead, espcially lukas since he just had to fight him. typical jesse :,) ) i have no idea if i'll draw this later though so i'm putting this out there in case i don't sdjghf

for the second q, the confrontation still happens but this time it's with axel and olivia who's formed the dead enders (or whatever team name you chose in season 1). just like lukas they did that in hopes to remind "jesse" of what they, and most importantly he was like before they had any sort of fame, when they were just a bunch of nerds from a treehouse. also i kinda wanted to give them a more prominent role in the story since they barely had any screentime in s2 lol.

the difference between them and the ocelots tho is that the two aren't really fighters- not in the sense of power but in the sense that they didn't straightforwardly rebel against "jesse". some passive defiance was definitely there like telling him that he's not doing the right thing, but they didn't form the rebellion team until romeo threw them into the admin tower prison. that was their last straw and the final proof they needed to see that the new jesse no longer cared for them.

oughh this got so long im sorry ghfdjk. tl;dr, romeo still becomes jesse, and yes the confrontation happens but with axel and olivia. the thing about this au is that the major plot points stay the same: they go to jail, romeo terrorises beacontown, they find the weapon, romeo gets beat down etc- its just how they get there that's different. i just really like exploring how one small change in canon events affects everything else :]

[pseudowho]

Hi! I've never actually sent one of these before, I'm not a huge Tumblr user (definitely a lurker... I love to read, never post), but it feels fitting that the first time I ever say anything on this site that it's to you. I'm a huge fan and I've been following for a while. I've written for years (a very different format, try written roleplay) and you were the inspiration I needed to start writing independently, and I've been having a blast with it! I feel like I've finally started doing what I've wanted to do this whole time, and never realized it's what I should've been doing all along. JJK is also my poison of choice :) So thank you for the accidental epiphany! Lovely work as always and I adore you so so much from the shadows! My question: WHAT witchcraft have you employed to come up with some of the words and phrases you write with? Was there a ritual to unlock my third-eye that I forgot to do? Light some candles, maybe? I feel like I use a lot of the same words and descriptors over and over again, and it makes my writing feel so flat! The thesaurus is my best friend but that only makes so much of a difference I feel, do you use one too? Because I keep finding myself looking back at my writing during the editing passes and going: "man, I just don't know many words! Or at least not any interesting ones." Your writing is just so rich and colorful, and I would love just a smidge of your sparkle <3 Long winded request for writing advice! Hope you're doing well! <3

Hi!

God, this is so flattering. I've said it once, and I'll say it again: I love when creativity sparks more creativity. It's catching, and beautiful, and I'm so pleased that whatever I do has helped you like this. It's amazing to hear. And I'm pleased you're enjoying yourself and feeling fulfilled, which is the most important thing.

I don't mind being watched from the shadows, so pleased feel free to stay on Anon. It doesn't bother me. Thank you for reading my work for so long.

Honestly, with words, I find them to have colour. I feel like I can make a sentence or a paragraph run with any colour I want, depending on the pace or tone, or language. For the most part, if I look at a piece of my writing and it doesn't stand out as a fucking rainbow, I feel like I've failed.

I don't really think about the words I put down, I go by a feeling. I read a lot (though it's slowed down in recent years with how busy I am), so perhaps that?

I've spoken previously about viewing my stories like movie scenes before I write them. I still very much do this. It helps to capture the vibe of a written scene and makes it three dimensional instead of flat.

I play a lot of word and number games in my head when I'm performing mental tasks. Like...six degrees of separation word games, by choosing two very different words and trying to see how many adjacent words it takes to connect them. Also, trying to make patterns with sets of words in a verbal reasoning kind of way.

I do complex addition and division of numbers in my head, seeing how many decimal points I can divide something down to. I play 'common denominators' a lot, and have recently found some number patterns that I hadn't noticed before, which has been satisfying.

That sounds mental. I'm sorry. My brain is so much sometimes.

I wish I knew what to tell you. I'm very much a maximalist, and I think my writing carries a sort of maximalism too. I like it to be absolutely full, bursting and blooming. I love to read it back to myself and feel the richness on the page. It delights me.

Read more, perhaps?

Always here to give frankly unhelpful and useless advice, lovingly yours,

-- Haitch xxx

[msmargaretmurry]

friend, what do you do when you haven't written (fan)fiction in more years than you can say for sure, and you're bitten by a character arc for a story that keeps spiraling into more and more as you think about it? i am feeling VERY overwhelmed especially as it becomes more about that character arc than the original plot idea. i remember you saying that you thought HAW was going to be like 40k and obviously it ended up much longer - having gone through that process, what did you learn? is there any advice you'd give, especially to someone already nervous to start doing something for the first time?

hello pal! i'm sorry you're having an anxious time of it but i'm excited to hear that you're flexing your writing muscles, and i hope that i can offer some helpful reassurances here!

the short answer is: you just write it. you just do it!!! ultimately the two choices here are write it or don't write it, and not writing it is way less satifying. yes yes WAY easier said than done though, so onto the long answer. 💞

trying to write again when you haven't written in a while can definitely be nerve-wracking, so first of all, i want to say that it's totally fine to be nervous. very normal of you! obviously you want your story to live up to the idea in your head, so it can be really hard to shake the whole feeling of, oh no what if it doesn't? what if my grand foray back into writing is an EMBARRASSING FAILURE?? so i also want to say that it will not be, because there is no such thing as failing at creativity, and i forbid you from being embarassed of anything you create while learning. writing is a never-ending learning process. the best writers you have ever read are the ones who embrace learning something new every time they write. i would say this even if it hadn't been years since you last wrote, but especially since it's been years since you last wrote, but it is imperative to remember that you have to start somewhere. to quote the great sam reich, the only way to begin is by beginning.

my #1 tip for if you're working on a story and it feels like it wants to be long and you have a lot of thoughts and ideas and feelings about it is to WRITE EVERYTHING DOWN. don't make yourself try to remember it all. i use a note in my notes app for this, but you can use a physical notebook or a google doc or whatever works for you.

this isn't for writing the actual fic — you might end up with snippets of scenes in here but nothing more than a few lines. this is for literally anytime you think of something for your story, into the note it goes, as soon as possible, so you don't have to worry about remembering it. a fact you learn, a future story beat you want to hit, a line of dialogue you want to include in a future scene, a lyric that inspires you, a reminder to include a detail or reference. i also use mine to keep a list of subplots/running themes — things you don't want to fall off your own radar and wind up forgotten halfway through.

you don't need to check your note/document/whatever every time you write, but if you're an outliner you can use it to periodically update your outline, and besides that, occasionally referring back to it is great for a) sparking inspiration for where the story goes next, and b) reminding you to go back and be like, hm, how long has it been since i referenced [subplot]? maybe it's time for that to make another appearance!

i also ALSO use mine to keep a list of things i know i'm going to want to go back and edit for once i have a full draft. i don't know about you, but i am a CHRONIC edit-as-i-go-er and doing this has helped me so much with being able to take a deep breath, accept that something in the draft probably needs fixing, and know that i won't forget about it. i no longer have the HAW version of this note (because i delete things out of mine as i address them, so by the end of writing the story the note is empty 😂) but iirc it had things like — make sure it's clear that matthew is kind of a mama's boy, double-check the pacing/frequency of matthew's big intrusive thoughts, make sure we know where bowie is for scenes in leon's house.

regarding the story becoming more about the character arc than the original plot idea, try to let go of your expectations of what the story was supposed to be and instead try to approach it with a mindset of discovering what the story is going to be. this will give you a lot more freedom to let it grow and change without feeling like you're abandoning something. the reason HAW got so long is because, when i started, i had two big plot beats that i knew i wanted to get to (the first breathplay scene and the first kiss scene) and as i was writing, i kept thinking to myself, okay i need x y z and then i get to tackle that big plot beat. so i would write x y z only to discover that i still needed more development to make it feel earned. so i just wrote more development! this did mean letting go of the conception of the story's structure i had going in, when i thought it would be shorter, but it ultimately let the beats fall in the right places.

(obviously letting your story sprawl however it wants to isn't always the the best thing you can do for a piece of fiction. but in character-driven stories, in my opinion, it's vital to give the character the space they need. and if it sprawls too much, you can always edit it down later. you can learn stuff about your characters from scenes you wind up cutting or from versions of scenes that don't end up working just as much as from the scenes you nail.)

if you think it'll help with motivation, get yourself an alpha reader. enlist a friend that you trust to be what you need them to be in this role. for me, it's that i can trust when i send them the next 5–10k chunk of first draft that they will read it at their earliest convenience (not letting it sit for days), that they will be invested in following the story (i once had an alpha reader tell me that they had totally forgotten about a major story development in the week or so between one chunk and then next chunk, and it devastated me), and that they will understand that as i'm grinding out the first draft, i need enthusiasm and encouragement, and concrit ONLY if there's a major issue. concrit is the realm of my beta readers.

everyone's writing process is different, so if there's stuff here where you're like, ugh i hate that idea, feel free to ignore it! or modify it! just don't spend so much time tinkering with planning and research and playlists and outlines etc that you don't actually write. occasionally a good writing sesh CAN be 98% tinkering, but most of them should not be.

finally, let yourself enjoy the process. don't put pressure on yourself to finish it quickly so you can feed it to the internet for comments and kudos. comments and kudos are, of course, fantastic, and also it's fine to set yourself arbitrary goals/deadlines if that helps you (e.g. "writing"i'm going to write 3,000 words a week" or "i'm going to finish this section of story by the end of the month") but try not to get stressed if it's taking longer than expected to write, or it turns out you want to add more than expected to the story. it's worth it to have a story you're happy with.

sometimes writing can be really hard and frustrating, but that doesn't mean you're doing it badly. sometimes you need to talk an issue through with a friend. sometimes it takes a few tries to figure out how a scene should go. sometimes you need to let a plot problem rotate like a $2 hotdog on the gas station hotdog roller of your brain for a couple of days before the solution comes to you in a vision at the most inconvenient time possible. (jot it down in your notes app before you forget it.)

anyway. good luck and i believe in you ❤ you know where to find me if you need to complain about writing/talk through something/get a pep talk!