#and also after the change of heart he'd totally understand how hard it would be for her to adjust...

[triangularz]

ZORO- FORGIVENESS

sfw- last line nsfw, maybe 700 words, soft zoro, est. relationship, wisely waiting to be forgiven, reader envisioned as blk/f, enjoy and imagine your thing! many of my fics are really "dense fanfictional narrative character studies" or something like that. Working on including more dialogue

Zoro's apologies are total like his sweet, unyielding love, seeping from his bone marrow, from every red blood cell- earnest, absolute, lived. Never burning or suffocating, each moves like convection heat from him to you- always warm, always healing. He has no need to search for you when he's caused distance, or use haki to sense your aura- instead, he draws on what he deeply and so accurately understands about you, and drains every drop from his stores of intuition to see beyond your rough exterior, passed your strained smile- notice your rigid movements or one too many blinks to hold back hot tears you hope he won't witness.

To fix and fuck the feelings away- shit that's all he wants; he hates it, hates it, but these are his consequences, to wait and refrain and respect, to fight his will, to conceal his impatience while pensive and in pain.

He refuses to weigh you down, won't allow you to become the comforter because of his own self-pity, scrambling to assure him you won't leave, that you do love him, that he isn't a horrible man. He'll own and absorb his mistakes, bow and honor you. So he makes no promises to placate you, doesn't bargain with you or swear on his life he won't do it again. To do those things would be to erase or medicate your pain without healing the wounds he's caused, and the promise would be a lie; perfection doesn't exist. He might- he will speak too harshly, ignore your needs, act selfishly... apologize again. But the coin's other side pisses you off and is hard for him: He won't take your upper-handed shit while he waits, allow you to be manipulative or lash out in ways he knows you'll regret; he gently pushes back. Later, you can't thank him enough for it- having calmly stood his ground with such love.

When you forgive him, he recognizes that hurt or anger or sadness may not dissipate right away, and he'll gladly wait longer, quietly processing how best... to be better. He stands on the edge of your universe, making his way towards your galaxy, then your solar system, then your planet and eventually back to you when you signal readiness for it. It feels like an age to him, but it's never long before you extend your hand and walk him home to your heart.

This perspective, this agony- he's stumbled to learn it in ways grievous to you both, after raging, fists through the side of the crow's nest, blame and defense, bewilderment. Shit you've also inflicted heinous wounds- but what happens in it (he, with a smidge of advice from Sanji and Nami) really is as beautiful as it is messy, your roots together growing deeper and stronger, better handling drought.

▪️

This morning, he scribbles a note on torn cartography paper before joining Jinbe at the helm: I know you'll have a good day. Don't let me spoil it. I'll miss you. Challenging for him to write, but a small thing you can choose to throw away, maybe smile about. Instead you cry, experiencing every little word and recalling a moment yesterday- his sorrowful eyes, his restraint and clenched fists when full of anger you left to wander the ship:

"Heading out."

"Okay. Whatever you need." Not me. I know.

*

The bed dips now with his weight; he'd first hovered near the bedroom while you showered and changed, giving you space before you sleep.

"This ok?" His hand rests tentatively on your hip.

"Yeah." You struggle with ambivalence- an urge to punish him and your own desperate need to reconcile.

"Thanks... I'm so sorry. I mean it," he whispers. Gratefulness to touch you again and a precious few words he always means; they melt away the last of your angst. You gently grab his hand and nestle it on your chest, interlacing his fingers with yours, and he cautiously plants a kiss on your shoulder- you aren't delicate, but he recognizes the kiss should be. It's automatic after a few minutes, to cuddle closer to you when he thinks you're asleep. His soul relaxes, but he doesn't, every muscle flexing to keep you close, aroused and fine with it, expecting nothing. You're wide awake, and just as he's found contentment, your back melts into his chest and your ass presses against his cock, heart pounding. You're repaired. He fucks you through tears, both relieved, and roots stretching longer into nutrient-rich earth.

▪️

[cumplanecrash]

So not to pathologize the blorbos, but Shen Jiu totally has OCD, yeah?

(I so wanna reblog and come back for style reasons but I also want the whole thought in one place.)

Okay so qijiu reconciliation is on my mind, right? And the thing is, Yue Qingyuan thinks that he made one specific mistake (did not come back for Shen Jiu at the Qiu Estate) that, if he can just make up for it somehow, he can be forgiven and he and Shen Qingqiu can become close again.

But honestly, we know he had a good excuse for not coming back: he was locked in a cave by some of the most powerful cultivators he could be held hostage by at the time, with no hope of overpowering his Shizun, especially with his life being drained by Xuan Su. And you'd have to be a completely petty, heartless bastard not to forgive him knowing that.

The kind of petty, heartless bastard that would take advantage of the Sect Leader's guilty conscience for his own benefit.

And Shen Jiu does not ask for this.

If anything, he's irritated by Yue Qingyuan's favoritism. He also never speaks in his own defense when his crimes, true or false, are brought up. Because Shen Jiu has decided that he's an irredeemable monster, unworthy of defence and too tainted to be allowed to touch the flawless sect leader, and the sooner everyone else sees that, the better off they'll be. (This is a type of OCD.)

You see, once upon a time, he had written off his dear Qi-ge as dead (or dying, or in need of rescue) and mourned him in his heart, because he believed that only death or dismemberment would keep Qi-ge from at least trying to keep such an important promise. But then, when his best-of-a-lot-of-bad-options shifu took him to the Immortal Alliance Conference to raid the inevitable dead bodies and, not so secretly, make some of their own, he saw that same Qi-ge there, and there was no sign of permanent injury visible. He didn't even make any excuses, just apologized for not coming. And Shen Jiu — accepts that "No matter how [Shen Jiu] changed, he was a rat", that "Some people were rotten from birth. Shen Jiu thought of himself in exactly this way — someone vile and poisonous from the start. Because, at that instant, he came to a crystal-clear realization:

That he'd rather have met a Yue Qi who died in some unknown corner, his remains unsightly and forgotten, then a Yue Qingyuan who was elegant and powerful, his prospects and future boundless."

It's a hell of a thing on a young person to wish someone dead, truly and with your whole heart. To do it to a loved one can be especially hard. But the thing is: brains aren't literal. Especially when they're trying to understand emotional pain.

To go all Pop Psychologist on the character who definitely does not have access to therapy for a brief moment, he doesn't want Qi-ge dead anymore than I want to commit a random shootout on the way home from work after a long day. It's dram;, it's poetry, in a sense. I think what that quote literally means is that having Qi-ge betray him to the point of not even attempting to come back for him when he actually did well for himself, hurts just as bad as if he had died. But that's where the OCD comes in, he takes the literal meaning of his thought and condemns himself as the worst kind of human being, or rather "rat", imaginable.

And if he's the worst, what's the difference if he does whatever it takes to fulfill his every whim, as long as he doesn't get caught?

Shen Jiu performs the role of Scum Villain because he's convinced himself that he must be one, for having a dramatic thought in a moment of weakness, and that he can never earn forgiveness for that thought, that it's a thorough and unforgivable betrayal of the young man who dreamed of it being his turn to save Qi-ge, and that's exactly what makes us want to see him grow and change.

Where it often falls flat, is that we think that Shen Jiu needs to forgive Yue Qingyuan, when who he really needs to forgive is Shen Jiu.

[so-long-soldier28]

Idk if this makes sense but thoughts on ceo Kai parker with assistant reader???

are you ready for my longest response to an ask yet? because here it is...

so i'm currently working on a bonkai with a workplace AU that i've admittedly forgotten about that was requested in october. but working on that gave me inspo for this... and then i took it in a whole 'nother direction

fluff & smut below!

this could go 2 ways (or it could include both)

we've got the one where he's super sweet on her.

or we have him teasing & being super sexual until she gives in.

we also have possibilities for the reader to be more shy or more confident, and that majorly changes things.

kai will be kai no matter what, but there will be variation in how he reacts to her.

if she's more shy, i think he'd be a lot more teasing with her. gentle, bc he doesn't want to scare her off, but definitely pushes sometimes.

if she's more confident, he would be taken aback (and definitely turned on) from that. he recognizes that she won't take shit from anyone & respects that about her.

with the shy reader, her co-workers sometimes do try to take advantage of her, but he snaps back at them & checks on her after.

shy reader

he instantly has a liking towards you.

you're quiet and respectful, but do your job well.

you do things in a timely manner & treat others appropriately.

going above and beyond to make his job easier.

kai, at first, doesn't want to overstep your boundaries.

he's gentle towards you & thankful for your hard work. is very appreciative.

calls you names like "darling," and "sweetheart," or even "peach," that always make you blush.

he means it as innocently as you receive it.

… at first.

with time, feelings grow.

you both push them down to maintain a professional work environment, and even go as far as to deny they are there at all.

there's talk in the office, but no one is bold enough to mention it. plus, there's no proof of anything between you guys.

hold on, i have a side story for this, since it's december, and this just sounds so cute to me.

okay so kai has a holiday party he has to attend, but no one close enough in his life to bring as a plus one.

his mother demands he brings someone, and if he doesn't, she'll set him up with her best friend's daughter.

kai doesn't want to get stuck in that awkward situation, so right before break, he asks a huge, huge favor of you.

"i'm, uh, not quite sure how to ask this, y/n, but i have a huge favor to ask of you."

"anything you need."

"it's okay to say no, i completely understand if you don't want to, it's totally your choice."

you giggle, closing your eyes, and his heart races. "i'm sure it's fine."

he grimaces, "would you mind accompanying me as my plus one to a holiday party? it's on the 23rd and local, only about thirty minutes away. it's just between friends and family, but if i don't have a plus one, my mother will set me up…. i just… actually, this is, i shouldn't have asked. i'm sorry, y/n."

you're surprised at first, a little confused, but not ready to reject the offer. your boss begins to ramble about how inappropriate it was of him to ask, and while he may be right, you don't want him to be in such a situation with his mother. you know how family can be.

"sure, i'll go with you."

"i'm- wait, what?"

"if the offer still stands, i'll be happy to go."

he stops. "you're positive?"

"just give me the time and place."

kai does more than that. when he tells you the dress code (relatively fancy), he offers to buy you a dress, but you say you already have one. he then picks you up at your apartment and immediately compliments the dress you wear. he notices your eyes, and how well your makeup compliments their color. his eyes linger on your lips, bold with a shade of red. he tries not to look at your body, but sneaks a glance that you totally catch.

he insists on driving you to the event, and gives you a rundown on the attendees on the way. those in his family who are crazy and that you should avoid, those to whom he's closest, those who have a weak understanding of personal space, and those who will not come within six feet of an unknown person. he tells you about his favorite cousin and the questions he may ask. he prepares a speech about you being his assistant, and not a girlfriend. you practice this speech together, bouncing off one another, about when you started, what you do, and how appreciative he is of your help.

you expect his mother to be stern and strict, but when you meet her, she turns out to be a very sweet lady, despite her high expectations for her family.

she's clearly not convinced that you're a work friend / assistant and not his girlfriend, and no one in his family is convinced, either.

he takes you around the house, introducing you to the necessary people, but never lingers in any one group for long. he knows you're shy and this must be difficult.

after you finish introductions, he pulls you into the garage to check on you.

"doing alright, darling? i know my family is huge. just take a moment to breathe."

you're thankful for this, and hold his hands while taking deep breaths.

after you settle, he promises food and brings you to the snack table.

there's no judgement about how much you eat; no one comments about you eating too much or too little.

alcohol is offered, and you grab a drink only to calm your nerves. he drinks one to "tolerate family" but promises it won't affect his driving later that night. promises, right there, to keep you safe. you believe him completely.

after snacking for a while (and being thankful it's not a sit down dinner), you go back to talking with his family.

you sit on the couch with a couple aunts as one plays a piano. to your left, kai talks to one of his nephews, no older than six, and your heart warms at the sight.

one of his aunts enters and comments he's next to have kids, then looks at you.

the two of you erupt into your "coworkers, not dating" spiel, and she scoffs with a roll of her eyes. "could've fooled me."

neither of you look at each other after that for a moment. you turn back to the conversation you were in, but his nephew runs off, leaving him alone.

kai watches you talk to his family. all those buried feelings rise to the surface and his throat dries. he takes a second look at how beautiful you are. your smile, despite however tired you must feel, respectfully never falters. your small fingers grasp your cup, once filled with a festive party drink, now with coffee as the end of the night draws near. your dress fits your frame perfectly, and your heels match the exact shade of your dress.

several members of his family catch him staring. his nephew whispers something about love in his ear. he hushes the child quickly, but his tinted cheeks give him away.

kai isn't the only one caught staring, though. his mother watched you visibly sigh at the sight of him with his nephew, a smile tugging on your lips. his father saw the way you relaxed when he brought you away to the kitchen, checking on you a second time. his cousin heard the stutter when you told him kai was just your boss and that there was nothing going on between you two.

when the party isn't filled with talking and laughter, the silence is filled with lingering stares. bated breaths and twinkling eyes. the urge to cross the line between a boss and his assistant.

you disappear for a couple minutes to help his mother clean up after the party. kai talks with his father about "business" but you wonder if that's really the topic.

his mother is nosy, but polite about it. she asks about work and asks if he treats you well on the clock. you reply that he certainly does, and that you're grateful to have a boss that cares about you like he does.

she then double-checks that you're not really dating, and doesn't miss the cloud of sadness in your eyes when you insist that you are not.

she then tells you he's been single for a while because trust doesn't come easy to him. she mentions the blueness of his eyes. how it's been a bright, baby blue all night; a stark contrast to the gray tinted blue she's grown used to seeing. she doesn't elaborate the reasoning, but you don't need her to to know what she's hinting.

by the time you leave the party, most of his relatives have grown comfortable enough with you to hug. the six-feet apart one gives a wave. his mother's hug is the tightest; his father gives a firm handshake, but then draws you in for his own hug. his nieces and nephews attach to your legs and make you promise to see them again. you agree, not wanting to break their little hearts.

it's dark by the time you begin to drive home, and it has been for a while.

kai wants to hold your hand in the center console. he refrains. you rest your elbow there, hands close, but not touching.

you rehash the night, speaking highly of his family. he checks up on you a third time to make sure you're not overwhelmed, but to your own surprise, you feel okay. happy, even.

he apologizes for anything his aunts or mother might've said, but you promise every conversation was good.

eventually, the mention of the various comments came up. a count of how many times you had to tell people you were just friends, co-workers, and not dating. you share a laugh over it, but the walls are down already. whatever feelings had been buried have now resurfaced. kai internally curses himself, afraid of your reaction.

your mouth opens to say something, and his throat goes dry again. his heart would break if you are uncomfortable by it all.

"thanks for the invite, but i think i should transfer," he fears, "we shouldn't work together any more".

instead, you turn to him. "thank you for the invite. i had a good time."

"thank you for accompanying me."

it's silent for the last couple minutes, then he walks you to the door of your apartment. he stands outside, forcing words out of his throat while you stand in front of him, bathed in the gorgeous warm glow of your porch light.

"thank you again. i'm glad my mother didn't scare you off. it would've been so boring without you. see you at work."

you nod, "see you at work," but then as he turns to leave, you can't bear to let him go. you reach out to grab his coat and he turns. you make up an excuse about his scarf not being straight, though that doesn't really matter, and in the next second, you pull on it gently to bring him closer to you.

his eyes dart down to the grip on the wool between your fingers, and then to your face. you wear an expression equal of shyness and determination. he translates it into the consent he needs to cup your face in his hands and press his lips to yours.

warmth travels throughout both your bodies immediately. the kiss deepens to you pulling his coat closer, his steps forward, backing you into the wall behind you. he kicks your door shut and your hands bury into his hair.

kai's hands start to feel your body, but then he breaks it off. he doesn't want you to think he's only wanting you sexually. he wants something real. he's wanted it for ages.

he admits this. you shyly, admit you feel the same.

but while sex is put on pause, kai locks his car and you invite him in. you share a glass of wine and spend the night talking, growing closer.

the next day at work, it's hard to hide your blushing faces and giddy attitudes. all of your co-workers know immediately, but they also saw it coming for a long time. a couple congratulate you, some ignore the lovesickness like it's a disease, but no one makes a fuss.

maybe kai will be the next in his family to have kids after all. you're certain you've found something good with him, and you're determined to keep it.

now, onto a different path where i could take this idea… get ready, because this is a complete 180 degrees from the previous little bit.

ceo kai with a respectful yet confident assistant.

something is definitely brewing between these two. there are feelings to be felt. …even if neither of you recognize them yet.

kai is incredibly protective over you. you are his assistant, and if anyone needs your help, they must ask him first.

he doesn't want you being overworked or taken advantage of.

you also defend him when co-workers talk shit.

"i don't know why boss is making us do this stupid shit," someone complained once, "it's not like it matters, it's extra work."

"it's in your best interest to complete the task assigned to you. it'll make your job ten times easier when quarterlies roll around."

the coworker rolls her eyes, but kai, who could hear from his open-door office, smiles to himself. he's glad you see the tasks he assigns have purpose, and is grateful for you to try and help others to see that.

there are rumors going around that you sleep together, but he shuts them down immediately.

it's not even on your minds to have a relationship outside of work.

until that one night where he asked you to stay late to help him finish something.

you had seemingly hundreds of paper stacks to grow through, and he was on phone call after phone call.

he ordered food at some point for the two of you, wanting to take care of you since he was needing your help.

you're always eager to help, and even though it's a lot of work, promise to help until the job is done.

when it happened, it was an accident. a complete and total accident.

kai had been watching you sort through papers for too long and didn't even notice he was growing hard until he had to shift.

you looked so beautiful from where he was sitting. hair, once neatly tied up in a bun, now messily falling around your face. your shirt sunk further down every time you stretched to grab something on the other side of the table, exposing your chest a little more each time. your heels were kicked off to the side, and one foot was tucked under your lap.

earlier, he had asked you to enter the room whenever his phone went off to come and take notes.

on your way in, you accidentally make eye contact with the bulge that formed underneath the table.

that phone call is a particularly difficult one to focus on.

after it, you try to shuffle out of the room to give him privacy, but he knows you know and asks you to stay so he can apologize.

he accidentally gives tmi and talks about how it's been so long, and being there with you, looking so beautiful, got him worked up.

instead of shying away, you offer to help rid him of the problem.

not a lot of words are spoken, but somehow you find yourself giving him a bj under the desk.

he's so focused on your doe eyes and the shape of your lips and the way your mouth feels on him. your hands grasp his length & squeeze with the perfect amount of pressure. you jerk off what you can't fit. a string of drool connects your lip to his cock when you pull off for just a moment to admire him. his hands dig in your hair and urge you on, but he doesn't push. never pushes.

quiet moans escape his lips between praises, but you ask him to be louder for you, craving to hear the sounds he's holding back.

getting him off earlier than he expected, and you swallow it before it can hit the floor and leave evidence.

he then pulls you up on the desk, welcomes a kiss, and then moves down to taste you.

feelings he held back & feelings you didn't know you had come bursting out of the floodgates, making for an emotional experience combined with pent-up sexual desire.

supports your back as you come down from your orgasmic high, and fucks you on the desk as soon as his refractory period is over.

has impressive sex drive and says he spent most of his early twenties studying to prove himself.

now reaps the rewards with not only a high-up position, but a perfect assistant.

no motivation for work afterwards. enjoy the rest of your takeout and then he makes sure you get home safely.

the next couple days are awkward until he finally requests you to his office to talk about it.

this talk includes feelings that you had time, by now, to mull over. you both share them and find you feel the same thing for each other.

decide to try a hand at a relationship, starting slowly and keeping it on the down low (minus HR).

grow more comfortable with it & it blossoms into something good & healthy for you both.

now, a handful of smutty office scenarios to shuffle through. i can certainly expand on any of these upon request ;) (or i might anyway)

fooling around after hours. him laying you down across the desk or over top of it. having you on his lap while he answers phone calls.

blowing him under the desk when he's trying to focus on an important call.

sending him dirty texts or nudes from the bathroom when you're both supposed to be working.

itching for your lunch break to come already so he can finally have his way with you.

maybe even being so bold to snap the blinds shut, slap a hand over your mouth, and take you during work hours bc you wouldn't stop teasing. your co-workers all know exactly what's happening, but have lost the will to care.

retrieving him coffee but accidentally spilling it in his lap & trying to dry it with a thin paper towel.

wearing short skirts or low tops on purpose for him.

accidentally sending him a nude that was meant for a tinder date & having to talk about it the next day.

brushing past him on your way back to your seat & getting a little too close - on purpose or on accident.

rubbing your foot on him under the desk whenever you sit across from him.

and that's all i have for now! i'm deeply considering making that holiday party a one-shot, maybe, or taking these other scenarios and expanding on them. i also have way more ideas for this topic but made myself stop because i'm pretty sure this response hit 3k words.

[thelediz]

Hi there! I just wanted to say, you single-handedly made me see the potential in sonamy. I’ve always been a hardcore sonadow fan from the start, but reading ‘The Lost Prince’? I remember starting the fic, noticing the romance subplot and quietly thinking “aw man”, cause sonamy is usually just not my cup of tea. But the way you wrote their relationship was unlike any sonamy dynamic I’ve seen before. The way they just have this understanding of where they stand, not caring to label it, Amy seeing a relationship with sonic as exciting and interesting no matter what he’s doing - it was such a wonderful take on their relationship. What might seem like miscommunication and unrequited love (manic telling sonic to stop leading amy on) is actually just pure, complete understanding of each other, their boundaries, wants and needs. It really feels so stable, and irrefutable once they work things out in the fic. That heart-to-heart in ‘Long Shot’ was really special, and I LOVED the conversation they had with Sonia they had together afterwards.

Your writing gave me a whole new perspective on a ship I’d never much seen the appeal of. If I’ve misinterpreted anything of your writing, please correct me, of course.

Thanks again for such a wonderful fic!

Aw, thank you! You're way too kind.

I think I love Sonic and Amy together so much because they're the perfect mess. They're both chaotic and difficult to understand, with such strong beliefs in how they personally see the world. They match each other in ways that can be really hard to understand.

But I totally get why a lot of fandom doesn't like them.

I've said before that one of the reasons I love Amy is because she's so passionate. She wants what she wants, damn the consequences.

And Sonic will do what he thinks is right, damn what anyone else thinks.

They're wild, they're strong, they're quite literally violent in their beliefs, but they're fundamentally good people and heroes besides. They're weird.

The creators of Sonic have said that he's not ready for romance, though I think they're changing their minds lately (it's cooler for boys to feel things these days), and while I think that's true, I think it's also because a 'normal' relationship would start to feel confining to him. He can't settle down - he has to be able to go where he wants, when he wants, and not feel guilty about that. So I don't think he's ever going to be ready for happily ever after.

And that's why Amy is a good match, because she's strong enough in her self and her love to believe he'll come back eventually. And if he doesn't, well, whatever, she's perfectly capable of tracking him down!

And I think Sonic loves that. From Sonic Adventure, he's always let Amy chase him. He's always waited for her to catch up. I think he always will.

He'll make a big show about how annoying it is, and how pushy she is, but honestly, I don't think he could be with anyone who wasn't willing to chase after him. He'd just leave them behind.

That said I totally get Sonadow for people who want someone who's capable of running beside him. Or Sonnuckles for people who want someone that can calm Sonic down. But I am first and foremost a fan of Sonic as a chaotic force for good so you know.

The lovely couple. I love them.

[skiiyoomin]

I was wondering if you could write a saiki & reader oneshot fic with a reader who has DID & C-PTSD and paranoid tendencies? I understand that that might be a bit too hard to write but just in case I got some recorces that might be handy, here is the link to DID listing from my own copy of the newest version of the DSM https://www.dropbox.com/sh/htaraej65e34tg9/AADBATmelRQFUBfTMxaJ3W6wa?dl=0 as well as this website that has a lot of good info on it https://did-research.org/ and this page I found that has a brief overview of C-PTSD https://my.clevelandclinic.org/health/diseases/24881-cptsd-complex-ptsd but I also recommend quickly reading thru the different types of flashbacks (shouldn't be that hard to find info on)

The main idea is that because of the mix dissociation,switching,paranoia, different types of flashbacks etc that the readers thoughts are very fucking confusing to saiki (feel free to use this premise for any kind of plot you want just try not to make it overly angsty is all I ask, well as un-angsty as you can get with C-PTSD anyways lol) I just wanna see more y/n / reader inserts that I can actually relate to but the saiki K fandom is so small

Can be platonic or romantic

Hi!! So sorry for the late reply, I researched as much as I could so if theres anything remotely wrong or different please tell me! Ngl, im not very sure i like how it turned out, nevertheless I hope you enjoy :))

Also i totally get that its hard finding stuff for saiki k which is the reason why i write for it in the first place, they totally deserve more recognition!! Feel free to send more requests in the future!!

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Content: somewhat angsty but not really, i tried to be as vague as possible so as not to trigger anyone, reader suffers from trauma, DID, CPTSD, swearing, fluffy ending? slightly oc saiki

Summary: Saiki was used to listening to many types of thoughts, and at one point, nothing he heard surprised him. However when you came around, he was beyond confused. What sparks as a little curiosity might turn into something more.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

ღNo matter what

He was used to it, or at least that's what he used to tell himself. Throughout the years he had heard all sorts of thoughts, at one point, he learned to tune them out when need be, having listened in on weird enough ideas that now don't surprise him anymore.

When you came in the picture, he was...baffled, to say the least. Confusing wasn't even close of a word to express how he felt. Your thought process was anything but simple. At times it'd be a fuzzy mess almost as if you lost part of your memory, other times, you'd think as if you were a completely different person, contradicting many of your previous thoughts. But what disturbed him most was the series of traumatic thoughts that would cross your mind. Flashbacks he realized in that moment.

In the beginning he felt annoyed, as per usual. Often times, he'd find you in class with a dazed expression, which to be frank, he had seen enough times to not give it a second thought. But then his attention would be caught when your mind would wander and you'd start thinking in a very unusual way. They were so unlike the person you presented to be, so much so that Saiki was left perplexed and in need to understand exactly what was going on.

The more it happened the more worried he'd be. There were days where you acted a certain way, and other days where you acted completely different. He could tell you weren't being fake trying to act differently for attention, after all, your thoughts lined up with the you acted and the things you said. Rather, it was the abrupt changes in your behaviour that had him thinking for far longer than he normally would.

Along the way, he also picked up how you'd flinch if you were in sudden physical contact, the way your shoulders would tense and the way your heart beat would speed up. Saiki wasn't stupid of course, he was aware that all of this was caused by some form of trauma.

He knew not to pry, yet his heart strings pulled everytime he saw you having a bad moment. So he began to follow you, in disguise of course, and even if he seemed like a stalker, he couldn't help it. Eventually he began to connect the dots, your reactions, behaviors, everything. It made sense now.

Unconciously, his words began to soften around you, his touch became gentler, he looked out for you in ways he had never done so with others. You began to notice but in no way did you mind, if anything, Saiki was someone you took great comfort in. What started of small slowly grew into something neither of you expected.

Of course, that didn't make it any less hard for either of you. Like right now. You were laying in Saikis bed, your head resting on his shoulder as you watched a movie, when suddenly a specific scene had triggered an anxiety attack. Your mind was racing through flashbacks of the many disturbing events you had gone through. Saiki was up almost immediately, having read your mind and sensed your reaction.

His touch was soft, his hands cupping your face so gently you'd think he was scared to break you, which he was. He was in no way someone who could comfort others easily. Nevertheless he tried his best. He attempted to lower your heart rate, rubbing small circles against your back as his other hand held the back of your head. No words were needed, they never were. He had, in a way, been there for you, way before you two even became a thing, so none of this was a surprise for either of you.

That didn't ease the guilt in your heart any less. You always felt bad. You knew Saiki could read you, literally. And well, it wasn't pretty. Countless times you had attempted to push him away, yet he never budged.

"'m sorry" you mumbled against his shoulder as your rested your head on it.

He cupped your face in his hands, pulling you to look at him.

`I won't let you push me away. The things you went through won't make me see you any differently, because to me you'll still be someone I cherish'

Your eyes welled up as you looked him deep in the eyes, finding nothing but love for you. Still cupping your face, he ran his thumbs under your eyes, wiping the tears away. He leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

'I love you'

"No matter what?"

`No matter what'

[typingatlightspeed]

Metal Gear/TF2 Crossover - cp_shadow_moses_event Chapter 8

After saving Dr. Hal Emmerich from Gray Fox and establishing a code name, Snake asks him if he's heard anything about this Australium Cache. Also: Mantis and Pyro have a little talk.

Ao3 Link!

Had a lot of fun writing Mantis v. Pyro. The dichotomy is so striking to Mantis and Pyro's like idk who you even are dude lmao

---------

"All I want from you is information," Snake said plainly, realizing just how long he'd lingered in the engineering lab, listening to the lead Metal Gear designer pour his heart out after learning his passion project's true nature.

It was fine, of course. The poor guy had just had his world rocked. He was just a civilian, a nerdy guy who clearly didn't have a lot of people to talk to, let alone open up to. And then all of a sudden his whole world comes crashing down and the trauma of a family legacy that had been weighing on him had swelled and threatened to drown him like a riptide. He needed a minute. It made sense. Plus, the guy's infodumping had given him a much better picture of what he was working with when it came to REX.

It wasn't just that, though. Snake couldn't help but feel for the lonely guy. After all, he was young and naive, and had been strung along and betrayed, lied to and used for others' ends, put his finely-honed skills to use on something he thought was going to be for the good of the world, only to find out it had all been manipulation, a bait-and-switch. And now he was merely a loose end to be tied at some point. Snake could sympathize with that. He'd had two ops go down that way, and no matter how much you try to push it down, it affects you.

He had already begun to wonder if this op was going to be the hat trick.

While he didn't understand everything Emmerich was on about, especially the Japanese cartoons, he did understand what it was like for his passion to be turned against him, and it didn't seem fair that someone so earnest had to deal with that kind of bullshit too.

But they'd been talking—well, Emmerich—no, Otacon, had been talking—for a good ten minutes, and he needed to get moving.

"Sure, I know everything about this whole base," Otacon replied, taking Snake's short tone in total stride. He was probably used to people talking to him in clipped tones and matter-of-fact phrasing. Pleasantries were probably in short supply in covert weapons development. "Ask me anything about REX or about this place."

"There is something," Snake began, thinking back to the battle two floors overhead. "Right now there are two groups of mercenaries that have also entered the base. One's been hired by FOXHOUND. The other from outside."

"Mercenaries? Are you serious? Are more people after REX?"

"No. I've made contact with both, and neither care at all about Metal Gear."

"You're serious? Then what could they want here? The dismantled warheads?"

"They claim there's a cache of Australium somewhere in the base."

"Australium? Here?!"

"You're saying you don't know about it?"

"No! You'd think something like that would be integrated into the REX project. Australian technology is decades ahead of the rest of the world's, largely because of Australium both as a building material for its electronics and as a sort of psychoactive substance. They say its radiation can turn an idiot into a genius with enough exposure, and can even increase muscle mass and hair growth."

"It can change your mind and body in positive ways from its radiation?"

"That's the story. It's how it got the nickname, 'the transformative metal.' But it's so rare and prized that formal studies are hard to conduct."

Snake reeled a bit. He'd heard Australium was prized and expensive, but the ability to alter one's body and mind with it? He wondered if it factored into Liquid's plans with the genome soldiers. "One group of mercenaries, Builder's League United, is here to try and take control of the base so they can get that Australium. The other, Reliable Excavation and Demolition, was hired by Liquid to keep people away from the cache."

Otacon hummed in understanding. "That doesn't surprise me one bit. While those two companies are ostensibly engaged in a war over the New Mexico gravel pits, wherever Australium tends to show up, you'll often see them around, too. But considering neither company deals in Australium, I have to assume they sell it to the highest bidder, or are specifically contracted ahead of time to get ahold of it."

"I've met both teams. They're perfectly identical, down to mannerisms. How is that even possible?"

"Nobody knows," Otacon shrugged, shaking his head. "There's a lot about that war that's startlingly secret, especially a lot of the tech development involved."

"Tech development?"

"Well, yeah. When you have a Conagher on your payroll, you're hardly going to hire him just to shoot people."

"A Conagher?"

"Dr. Dell Conagher," Otacon supplied. "The Engineer. Though he's kind of too famous for code names to really matter for him. I've met him a few times; he was loose colleagues with my father." He pursed his lips for a moment at bringing up the man, and continued. "He's a legend in cybernetics and biomodification sciences, in addition to all of his practical weapons development, like the latest model of his family's line of automated sentry guns."

"Which one?" Snake asked.

"Which one?"

"Which Engineer. There's two, remember?"

Otacon frowned, realizing he'd never interrogated that before. "You know, I'm not sure?"

Snake sighed. "So you have no idea where the Australium could be, though?"

"No idea. If there's a secret cache in the base somewhere, President Baker kept it off of any and all public records, including building blueprints."

"Damn." Snake sighed, again reminding himself of the time. "You should get going."

"Okay. I'll keep an eye out, though. See if I can find anything out about the cache."

"Thanks."

"Also, with this stealth camouflage," Otacon flashed a small device out of his coat pocket, an optical camouflage emitter, "I can sneak in out of the armory and mess hall. If you need ammo or rations, just tell me and I'll bring them to you." He activated the camouflage, nanomachines creating a small cloud around him and projecting mirror images of his opposing sides, making him appear as though he were transparent, the barest hint of his outline visible as he moved. "I'm on frequency 141.12. See ya later." With that, he turned and dashed out of the room.

*

"Through the caves!" Heavy bellowed, the RED team pouring out of the elevator and onto floor B1 of the nuclear storage building, where offices lined the hall. They surged around the corner, down a long hallway and through doors until they reached a large, well-appointed office with wood paneled walls, stone tile floor polished to a mirror shine, and a large wool rug dominating the space along with the wooden desk atop it. It was decorated with framed photographs, paintings, and busts, all very ostentatious for a facility like this. Seated atop the desk was Psycho Mantis, legs crossed knee-over-knee, watching with bemusement as the office—formerly Baker's—was flooded with red-clad mercenaries.

"You've been pushed out," he said. It wasn't a question.

Heavy ignored the sass and moved the bookcase against the back wall, revealing a secret passage to the underground caves beyond, and a swift egress out of the building. "Move!" he ordered.

"Wolf's dogs are out there," Mantis reminded him. "She'll get testy if any harm comes to them."

"No worries," Sniper chuckled. "Dogs love me."

"Yes, they can smell their own," Spy hummed, brushing past and into the passage. Sniper pouted and followed, grumbling.

It was all noise and commotion for too long of a moment as the mercenaries filed through the passage and out of the office, leaving him alone again with only thoughts he chose to hear.

Except...

Mantis turned to look at the exit. Pyro stood there, staring at him for a long moment. He could read him, but just barely. Curiousity. Flashes of flames, of colour, of phantom music, of screaming. It was never clear, never an internal narrative or a series of memories. It was disjointed, like trying to recall the fine details of a dream from three nights prior, slipping through your fingers like sand as you try to articulate any of it. "You."

Pyro perked up, pointing to himself exaggeratedly. "Me?" he asked, voice muffled by his mask even more heavily than Mantis'.

"You're different from them," Mantis replied, standing and approaching a few steps yet maintaining a sizable distance between them. "You're like us. No past, no future, just living in the moment."

Digging his toe at the floor, Pyro kicked gently, hands on his hips with a soft, "Aw shucks," and a chuckle.

Mantis continued, unperturbed by the sarcasm. "But more than that. There's beauty and joy in you. In your mind. You have love. You see your team as friends; your Engineer as the closest. You find them funny, entertaining, enjoyable, even. Us, we're pushed forward by hate, revenge, fate, whatever ties us to this life. It's what drives us to violence and bloodshed. I see your mind. I can see what you are, what you've done. The violence, the atrocities, the death and destruction. But through your eyes, it's play. And beauty." Mantis shook his head, his hands trembling with the strain of trying to make sense of Pyro's mind. All the same, he couldn't stop seeing flashes of his own memories; memories of his burning village, of his father's dying screams, of the Man on Fire, of the lab facility ablaze around them, of escaping with Liquid as the Diamond Dogs bombed an entire island with napalm. "I don't understand. Fire a tool of desolation and rage. Destruction. Revenge."

"You're wrong," Pyro huffed, stamping his foot. His gloved hands balled up into fists as he stood tall, his posture straight, his passions aflame. "Fire's beautiful. It destroys, but it gives birth to the new. A forest burns down, and those ashes feed the new growth, the new forest to replace it, which burns again. It's a cycle. Dancing, writhing, reaching toward the heavens and breathing deep as it consumes. It's a living thing. Hell, it is life!"

"What about the lives it takes? The lives we've both used it to take?"

Pyro shrugged at that. "Sometimes, people need killing. Doesn't mean you gotta be such a tryhard about it. Why not make it beautiful? Why not make it fun?"

Mantis smiled behind his mask. "We're two sides of the same murderous coin. One side hate, one side joy."

Pyro smiled behind his mask. "You're wrong. You clearly care way more about everything than I do." He shrugged again, posture slowly returning to its customary slouch. "Nothing really means anything. Once you realize that, you're free." He giggled and waved goodbye, then trundled after the rest of the group without sparing Mantis so much as another thought. "Hey guys! Wait up!"

Mantis stood there, staring after the masked mercenary, unsure. Unsure whether he was angrier at Pyro for being so fucking flippant, or at himself. Because Pyro was right.

[xenon-demon]

WIP Weekend! 🖋️

So I've been tagged in various WIP games this week by @stobinesque @penny00dreadful and @steves-strapcollection - thank you all Very Much for the tags!! <3 (even if the tags were because I am an Enabler Of Fic, I recognise my true calling is to be a hype man and writing is my side gig lmao)

Anyway I have a reasonably free weekend this weekend and a BURNING DESIRE to get something ao3-ready. Also FYI these rules are a slightly modified version of the ones Sam (penny00dreadful) is using, because I am using the "Fuck It We Ball" approach and cobbling together all the various WIP games into something that will work for me.

🎆 Rules 🎆

In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can’t share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

I am listing my WIP names as a poll; the poll will run for 24 hours and at the end I'll do the maths on how many votes each WIP received. I'll then set a goal to write 100 words per vote* for each WIP, and make a post of the vote breakdown for accountability! (*I may change this to be more than 100 words per vote if I don't get many votes in total.)

Snippet from "steve overstimulation projection manifesto" (SOPM) under the cut!

So yeah. Eddie can’t handle sudden change, big deal.

Steve can, for the most part; he's a lot more adaptable. No, Steve's weakness is people.

It took Eddie a while to realize it, and even then, he didn't truly understand until after they'd started dating. After all, how could the former King of Hawkins High possibly find socializing difficult? Eddie remembers all those bitter glances he used to shoot King Steve's way, jealous of how effortlessly he commanded the court of public opinion - not that he'd ever admit to it. But then Steve fell from grace, underwent more character growth than Eddie thought one man was capable of, and now Eddie knows the truth: uneasy lies the head that wears a crown. (Eddie is forever in debt to his freshman year English teacher for pointing him in the direction of the battered copy of the Complete Works of Shakespeare in Hawkins Public Library. If only poor Mr Collins knew Eddie was only interested so he could use it as inspiration for D&D campaigns.)

Steve is absolutely charismatic; he knows how to tell people exactly what they want to hear, or make them feel special in a way that keeps them coming back for more. The catch is it's an intentional act. It's a mask that Steve used to be terrified he could never take off, as he mournfully confessed to Eddie one night while sharing a joint in the trailer. As it turns out, Steve just needed better friends; with Robin, with the kids, with Eddie, he finds it so easy to just be himself. He doesn't have to censor himself or fret over what image he's presenting to the world, and can instead relax and actually enjoy the company. Steve's joked around with Eddie before that it's actually kind of good for their relationship that Steve used to have to try so hard - he knows how to flirt without even consciously thinking about it. What Steve doesn't know is that he could go into graphic detail about the shape of his toenails and Eddie would still be listening with hearts in his eyes.

—————

And now some tags, both for visibility and as an invitation to join in if you'd like to/aren't already doing a writing game for the weekend! <3

@sailing-through-hawkins @onirislanding @inairbinad @eriquin @scarcrossdlvrs @patchworkgargoyle

[cornfields-td-nonsense]

i kinda wanna know more of esther as a character, how her personality differs from zeeks, how her farmgirl brain works, etc. it would also be cute to see if the siblings have any quirks they share

Yesss an excuse to talk about the character that kicked this whole thing off! You will (probably) not regret this.

Alright y'all might have seen that character ref sheet I made of her a little while back. It was made back when I was first creating her (before most of the nautilus cast even existed) and I'm thinking of redoing it, just to keep it up to date. There haven't been any super drastic changes but I wanna make sure it's all accurate. Anyway, Esther time!

(This turned into a life story recap so im putting it under a readmore so it doesn't clog ur feed :P)

Like her older brother Ezekiel, Esther was born and raised on a farm far from the alien world of the suburbs, by Mary and Patrick Miller (bonus points to anyone who can guess who the parents are named after). And, like Zeke, Esther was taught some... regressive values by her father. She was described as a 'free spirit' as a child - she couldn't sit still, she'd hurt herself while climbing trees or playing with the animals and brush it off like it was nothing, and she seemed to have an endless well of energy and enthusiasm for pretty much anything. But as time went by, Patrick decided that these traits had stopped being cute or endearing, as he viewed her free-spirited nature as something to grow out of. And quickly.

When Esther and Zeke were still young, but old enough to work with food without injuring themselves, Mary would allow them to help her in the kitchen, preparing meals and baked goods. It was some great and valuable bonding time for the siblings, and for them and their mother. But then Zeke turned thirteen and Patrick decided that just like that, it was time for him to become a man - and as he saw it, men certainly should not waste their time in the kitchen. The more the siblings grew older, the more it felt to both of them - Esther especially - that they were being raised individually by their parents. Patrick taught Zeke to toughen up and act more like the future 'man of the house' should, and Esther was taught domestic chores by Mary. Both of them had to 'know their place', but Esther always felt like her mother's heart wasn't in it. She didn't show nearly the same passion in teaching Esther to sit still, smile, and speak when spoken to, as Patrick showed when teaching Zeke how to hunt. (He never talked about what happened on these hunting trips, and Esther never asked. She got the feeling he didnt want to talk about them.) Neither Mary nor Esther were happy with their place, and though they never spoke about it, there was a sort of camaraderie between them, an unspoken understanding that they were in the same boat.

Then Zeke found out from his permitted 10 minutes of television per day that there was going to be this new show called Total Drama. And everything changed.

Esther actually helped her brother audition - they both worked together to make their father extra happy so he'd be more likely to say yes. Esther tried extra hard to do all her chores to perfection, didn't complain once, and almost forgot what the sound of her own voice was like. Patrick said it was the most well-behaved he'd ever seen her. (She had to accidentally-on-purpose burn the food and knock over the milk jug the week after to make herself feel better.) And she even held the camera to record Zeke's audition tape.

They... probably should have taken the fact that Zeke accidentally shot Mary with a fake arrow as a bad omen, and not sent in the tape. That's what Esther thought later, anyway.

The episodes air and Zeke is the first boot. Patrick is not happy about this. What followed was Patrick spending the rest of the day at the nearest available phone, making a series of long angry phone calls to the producers of the show, while Mary and Esther go about their day wearing earplugs.

I should mention that Esther was twelve at this time, soon to turn thirteen, and she was kind of dreading her birthday. Given how much had changed when Zeke hit this milestone, she didn't want to think about what would happen if the same was in store for her.

Turns out not much was different, to her relief. She was sent on more errands out of the house, but that was pretty much it.

This marked the point of Esther spending more and more time outside of the house, always returning home late and having some excuse in her back pocket. Being at home was just... too complicated. With Zeke gone, tensions were rising, and she did not want to be there when they boiled over.

Spending more time out of the house also gave Esther ample opportunity to snag more time watching TD. She managed to watch the first two full seasons while sitting in a 70s themed diner with a tiny little TV set that happened to play a lot of Total Drama. And, like literally every other preteen/early teen girl watching TDI, she had a crush on Gwen. Watching the show was the starting point for her figuring out she was bisexual, which was a whole journey in of itself.

Not only that, but watching the girls on the show helped Esther question what Patrick had instilled in her. These girls were strong, and cool, and skilled, and smart. The final four were two boys, two girls. The final two was a boy and a girl. They were equals, something that wouldn't have been revolutionary to your average viewer, but was utterly earth-shattering to Esther.

Then after TDA, Zeke returned for a little while and he seemed... different? But he was still Zeke and Esther was just happy to see him.

And then he got called back.

And then World Tour happened.

And Esther watched the whole thing unfold in that 70s-style diner, watching everything her brother went through on that tiny little television set while surrounded by people who had no idea who she was.

...

Okay that was a downer so have a few light hearted Esther facts to wrap this thing up

- She had a pet horseshoe when she was five. She tied twine around it like a leash and dragged it along the ground behind her. She named it Harry.

- Her favourite colour is green.

- She used to go digging for buried treasure out in the fields when she was young. It got so bad that her parents thought there was a mole infestation. She did find a few old coins, a bottle and a handful of animal bones, so that was pretty cool.

- She and Zeke used to play 'the corn chip game'. The idea was that you would take it in turns to eat from a plate of corn chips, only taking a small handful at most each turn, and the person who ate the last chip was the loser. It would get very competitive, and made a single plate of chips last hours. No joke. You were technically allowed to break the chips to create more, but you had to do a forfeit if they broke (usually stuff like: kiss the ground, say the ABCs while standing on your head, drink pond water).

[demidevildiva]

welcome to marina, TAER LAWRENCE ( cis male, him/he ) ! they are a/n TWENTY FOUR year old who has lived on the island for EIGHT YEARS. word on the street is they’re currently living in TOWER HILL and works as a BOOKSTORE CLERK/STUDENT. everyone also says they look a lot like ANTHONY KEYVAN. what do you think?

TW: drug abuse mentioned

Taer was born to a drug addicted mother, and an absentee father. His mom did everything in her power to get clean after finding out about her pregnancy, but was not fully successful leading to Taer being born with a narcotics addiction.

Due to the conditions in which he was birthed, legal authorities did get involved in his progress throughout the years. Since his mother had proven to be clean by the end of her pregnancy, they were lenient and did not take him away. Instead they were visited multiple times in the year to ensure his wellbeing and safety.

By the age of nine, his mother fell back into drugs and unsure of what to do or how to help, Taer spoke with one of his school teachers. That only lead to them taking him away from his home, and putting him in the foster care system where he stayed for a good five years before being adopted.

While in the system he hung around one older boy who cared for him and helped him to understand his new life. Taer and Teddy were together for a total of two years before Teddy got adopted and he was left on his own once more. Switching from foster home to foster home after getting into fights with some of the other boys.

Taer wasn't the biggest or strongest of kids growing up. Due to his unfortunate birth, he was frail and smaller than other kids his age which lead to a lot of them picking on him.

It wasn't until he was fourteen that a loving family gave him a second change at a family. A real change despite his medical file, and the mountain of discipline paperwork drafted from all the fights he was getting into with the other boys.

He was also reunited with Teddy, and that had been one of the best gifts that he'd ever received in his life. Someone that he grew to love and respect like family from the moment he was taken away from his mother. Taer looked up so him immensely, and did everything in his power to be 'cool' enough to hang out with Teddy and his older friends.

Growing up, Taer found a loving for books like no other. It was something he could go do without having to spend any amount of money. He got himself a library card and began to read books to his hearts desire. His favorite being that of romance and all things fiction. An escape in his own head.

Later on in life he began to think of ways that he could help his new family in the long run. They had given him a second chance at a real life, and he wanted to pay them back for that. Wanted to ensure that no matter what he could take care of them too, so he began working hard on improving his grades and making something important of himself.

He dreams of becoming an important figure in the island. Someone with power, and riches who with the snap of a finger could make all problems disappeared. Someone who could provide and protect. But that takes work, and he's still just a child so he spends most of his days volunteering around the island. Putting his name out there as well as he could, so that later on when he's done with school he can become a local representative. He's a little boy with big dreams.

Other stuff:

Has an incredible amount of books. His bedroom is practically a little library with all the walls covered from floor to roof

gay gay gay - but don't tell him that

more to come

Personality:

Taer's very gentle and caring. Tries his best to be good to others, and stay out of trouble. He is not one to start fights, and would probably hide if he knows someone's trying to start something with him. A HUGE SIMP. Slightly clingy if he get's attached to you. He just got to grow a pair honestly. <3

[waynes-multiverse]

I already read it on Patreon way too long ago and wanted to reblog this forever with my favorite quotes, but it's like April came and slapped me in the face 😂 Anyways, I'm here now lol

And omfg Alex!!! Said it to you last time, but what you created here with your awesome brain was absolutely magical!! You connected book, show, and your version of Russell and this world so flawlessly, and as your friend, I'm just incredibly proud of you for this one 🥹💜💜💜

“Super soldier, huh?” A smirk curved his lips. “We talkin’ Captain America or Schwarzenegger?”

Nah. We're talking this, Russ 😏

(Also: Is it just me or why does SB look even hotter in Gen V? Never mind, ADHD brain is swerving off 😆)

And I loved the banter and cuteness in the supermarket! Also, so accurate he'd throw everything in the cart. I legit hate taking my husband grocery shopping with me because of this exact problem 😂

“That’s a lot of rabbit food,” he remarked.

His Dean is showing 😝

“Heeeeell, yeah. With the special sauce, right?” he asked hopefully.

And it might be random or me reading too much into it, but I loved lines like that and those parts of domesticity because it truly shows Russell finally had a home and something close to a normal life for the first time, and that just does something to me 😭❤️‍🩹

I probably sobbed too much while reading this over the smallest shit lol. Something about your writing and the way you tell stories really makes me think about life and emotions, I guess. Stop doing that lmao!!!

Key word being sometimes, because even now, he considered your question with more uncertainty than it should warrant. "You mean, uh, on the compound?" he asked.

Ooof, here we go! And honestly, I can so understand both sides of that argument. Plus, on Russell's side, there always seems to be that sense of shame about his past and desire to pretend he's normal, which is totally understandable but so heartbreaking as well that he can't even fully open up to the woman he's been loving and living with for a year now. Rips my heart apart 😭

“Maybe that explains why you’re such a foodie,” you wondered aloud. Because your man didn’t just like food. He was borderline obsessed with trying new spots with you, whether it was an upscale restaurant on the bougiest part of downtown, or a sketchy taco truck on the side of the freeway.

Same HC, my friend 😂👌

“We had these milestones…” he trailed, as the memory reappeared in his mind. “Heh. I remember being woken up and dragged out of bed in the middle of the night. Dad had me scale a cliff in almost pitch blackness. Couldn’t see the ground below me, could barely see a few inches above me. Was the day I turned thirteen years old.”

Loved how you worked this in! That story from the books stuck with me a lot too! All the "never" rules, the weird milestones... Really feel for those kids, but especially Russell and Colter 🥲💔 (The few times you think John Winchester was actually more humane and reasonable 🙈)

“That. That look right there,” he said, pointing at your face. “That’s why I don’t talk about this shit.”

The line guts me every time I read it 😭

And again, so understandable he doesn't want to be pitied and in a way just move on with his life without constantly thinking about the dark spots. And, on the other hand, completely makes sense reader wants to *know* him on that soul-deep level, especially since she loves him and clearly plans on spending the rest of her life with him. Such a hard situation for everyone involved 🥺

Like we always say: Only a good argument when you can understand both sides 😅 And you executed this entire scene perfectly 🫶

“That’s classified,” he said, only somewhat joking.

I still love you for this 😂🩵🩵🩵

If he did, maybe it would change the way you looked at him with those soft, loving eyes. 

Another line that hits so fucking deep 😭

“I don’t know. Make yourself a sandwich,” you said, just before he heard the door shut. “Shoulda saved that conversation for after dinner,” he mused.

But I genuinely loved how you balanced all the angst and heartbreak with humor. I was still crying when I snorted at this exchange 😂😂

“Nuh-uh,” you warned without even looking at him. It was a firm no on the touching, to which Russell exhaled and leaned back on his pillow, carding a hand through his hair. 

And I also loved this from reader! I always love a good "nuh-uh" from a woman lmao

Still, he hesitated. Like what? How I’ve spent a long time doing what I’m told, and not a lot of asking questions. Probably not as much as I should’ve.

Again, you're really punching deep with this whole story. And maybe it's me being too attached to Russell after reading the books as well and really knowing all their pain, but you're really hitting the nail on the head with all his thoughts and his true essence 😭💙

Russell swallowed. The truth was, he’d made the target goal on his business account months ago, but he’d also found one reason or another to accept the last few jobs out of town. There was pressure from Horizon to stay on. They didn’t want to lose a valuable “contractor,” after all. But it was also his own unwillingness to give up the feeling of knowing exactly what he was doing, what he had been trained to do, and secretly, the way his work kept him on the edge. 

Yup, and that's a whole other story, too. There's his past on the one hand, but also how that childhood influenced the rest of his life. We already know from people like Charlie how hard it is for soldiers to return to civilian life, but I imagine it's even twice as hard for Russell because most soldiers still have a family to come home to. They still had that sense of normalcy like Christmases and birthdays, even family checking in over laggy Skype calls, you know? And Russell had none of that for two decades and even throughout his whole childhood. I don't even blame him for stalling because he literally doesn't know a different life – not in the slightest.

Aaaaan I'm crying again... 😩

Russell washed your car and took out the trash and washed the dishes whenever you cooked, but standing here right now, it finally clicked just how much you actually did for him. How much you cared, and put your actions behind the caring part. You’d given him a place to come home to after decades in service, and years more on the road. Hell, you were his home. You and his sister.

Still fucking crying. You really slapped me with all the feels in this one!!! 💔

“And you remember what I had to do to get us out of that mess. Out of Nicaragua.”

I love all the Easter eggs in this 😂🐣 (And I believe the burgers and fries sweatpants might have been referring to Dean?)

“Couldn’t blame you. That place made some weird-ass sounds at night,” he replied, though he sighed deeply through his nose. “You were just a kid.” “So were you, Russ,” Dory reminded him. 

Wanna know what I did here? CRIED. That's what.

“She knows the main bits, but you’re asking if I told her how our brother thought I killed Dad?” Russell scoffed. “No. Didn’t think that little footnote would go over well.”

Can't blame him honestly 😂 Even I saved that one in TCF for a almost a deathbed confession lol.

Unlike Colter, it seemed, Russell had an image of his father that had lasted in his mind. It wasn’t a good one. 

Yup 💯 I don't know exactly why. It doesn't seem to be just age sometimes of why Colter always comes across as more detached and neutral about their whole childhood. As if in a way Colter is even grateful for it because it made him who is, whereas Russell seems to hate what it's done to him. A lot of that can probably be attributed to Russell having to leave the family behind as a result, and Colter never had to give up his mother or sister at least.

But yeah, of course Russell's memories of a normal life were a lot stronger than his siblings. So heartbreaking all around 😭

“Chillin’ at home. Working through some stuff on my new business venture. Though if the next question’s ‘What am I wearing,’ I gotta remind you that I’m happily off the market,” he teased.

*snorts* He can be such a dork 🤣

And I absolutely loved Dory in this part! She was so genuine and open with both Russell and reader. She's really walking that balance between brother and best friend well 💕 (Also love a good girls night with New Girl)

Oooof and that ending! Glad I already read Part 2 because that damn cliffhanger killed me the first time around 😜

Again, friend, this was so amazing and you've really outdone yourself with this series!! You weaved all those little pieces together masterfully, and I can't wait to see what you have in store for them next. I absolutely wouldn't mind if it took a different direction from the show or books even. I fully accept your version as canon 💜💜💜

BREAKING POINT - Part 1

Pairing: Russell Shaw x Reader

Summary: Russell made you a promise, but “getting out” of government contract work is even more difficult than he thought it would be. Is he willing to put the past aside, or is this going to be your breaking point?

AN: Welcome back to the Every Second Counts-verse! After the cliffhanger in Bubbly, I know you guys have been wanting this next part of their story. Get ready for a rocky ride — in two parts! 😅 (Also thank you again for all the birthday wishes. You guys are the best. 🥹💜)

Special thanks to the lovely Michelle - @luci-in-trenchcoats - for giving me tons of Tracker spoilers from the books that helped me shape the idea for BP! Both Michelle and Wayne - @waynes-multiverse have been incredibly encouraging and supportive in this one. 💚

Song Inspo: “Come in From the Night” by Chicago

Posted on Patreon: 3/28/2025

Word Count: 6.8K

Tags/Warnings: Fluff, angst, secrets and lies of omission, hints of Russell’s shady past, 2x02 events, and a twist…

⌖ Series Masterlist

Part 1: One Step Ahead of the Past

You paused in the middle of the grocery store aisle when you heard the thump. Yet another item dropped into the shopping cart.

You turned your head from the display of buy-one-get-one coffee brands and rose a brow at your boyfriend, trying not to smile.

“Uh, no. I don’t think so,” you said, grabbing the box of Zebra Cakes out of the cart.

“Aw, come on,” Russell implored.

“Babe, Dory and I call these cancer cakes. And you know what, for a guy who somehow keeps in like, Super Soldier-level shape, you’ve got a mega sweet tooth for all things junk,” you teased, and then smiled hard when he snaked an arm around your waist to try and distract you. You knew what he was really aiming for.

“Super soldier, huh?” A smirk curved his lips. “We talkin’ Captain America or Schwarzenegger?”

You laughed and tried to wiggle out of his grip. He had you trapped against the handles of the cart. He sneakily clawed a hand for the cartoonish black and white box of treats, but you held it just out of reach.

“If we have these in the house, you know I’m gonna eat them too, and it’s all just going to go straight to my ass, stomach, and thighs,” you quipped.

Russell hummed a kiss into your neck.

“I got no issue with that.” He squeezed your hips. “Just makes you softer to tenderize.”

A hot blush lit up your face, especially when an older lady gave you two some side-eye as she passed by with her cart. You bit your lip to temper your embarrassed smile, but you still reached back to pinch Russell’s side in retaliation. He just laughed and dodged your hand, ultimately wrapping his arms tighter around your waist.

“It’s true,” he whispered lowly in your ear.

“Hmph, I’m sure,” you replied in amusement. 

Despite your better judgment, you tossed the Zebra Cakes back into the cart and kept it pushing, literally. Russell’s pleased grin had you almost rolling your eyes. Yes, he knew how to play you like a fiddle.

You grabbed a couple packages of Gevalia coffee and continued down the aisle, but you didn’t realize that your shadow had disappeared. Russell caught up to you after a little while, withdrawing a peach cobbler from behind his back. It was from the bakery section. Another goddamn dessert?! And how’d he get over there and back so fast?

“I know I might be pushing my luck, but what about this guy for tonight?” he asked. “At least it’s homemade, right?”

You chuckled. “Yeah, homemade. Right from the factory that delivered it to the grocery store.”

But you sighed and relented on that one too, waving a dismissive hand. Eh, it’s on sale. Pick your battles, I guess.

Russell took that as consent to place the cobbler carefully next to the carrots, broccoli, and asparagus. He was slightly mollified by the bag of potatoes.

“That’s a lot of rabbit food,” he remarked.

“Oh yeah, and it’s gonna go great with the steaks tonight,” you sweetly replied. You knew the only way you were going to get him to eat said broccoli was if he had a slab of meat to go with it. Again, pick your battles. Your man was many things, but health-conscious wasn’t exactly one of them. It surprised you, considering he’d spent most of his life in the military.

“Heeeeell, yeah. With the special sauce, right?” he asked hopefully.

“Yes, with the special sauce,” you smirked.

And no, that wasn’t a euphemism.

Russell smiled, that one that crinkled the crow’s feet around his eyes. His hand fell to a comfortable place on the small of your back as he fell into step with you. It was his habit whenever you two went out together—a familiar hand on your hip, your waist, or brushing your hair back to massage the back of your neck. You liked the contact; the reminder that he was with you, and that he wanted to be.

But his touch fell away after you entered the cereal aisle. You did hear a short buzz, but you didn’t notice until you were almost at the end, halfway through asking if he wanted oatmeal or Fruit Loops. When you realized you were talking to empty air, you looked over your shoulder and saw Russell stopped in the middle of the aisle, staring down at his phone with knitted brows.

His attention was wholly on the screen, where a brief message held more weight than it should.

Are you in?

Russell kept digesting the words.  

“Russ?” you called to him, breaking him out of his reverie. “What’re you doing?”

Shit. He typed out a reply, and he sent it before he could think better of it. He pocketed his phone and caught up to you in a few of his long strides, his long hair bouncing along with him. His hand slipped around your waist and found purchase on a belt loop of your jeans. 

“So with our soon-to-be three course meal, what’cha thinking on a movie? Wanna watch Terminator again?” he proposed.

You rose a brow at three courses, but you skipped ahead to pushing back on said proposal. 

“God, no. We watched all six movies last weekend!” 

“Aw, come on, get to the choppah!” Russell invoked his best Arnold impression, prodding at your waist all the while. Never mind that the line was from Predator, not Terminator.

You flinched, and a giggle bubbled up in you on reflex as you swatted at his hand. You pushed the cart onward to the checkout counter. 

“All right, just the first one though,” you replied. “Then I want to watch Bridesmaids.”

He playfully groaned. “Gonna make me sit through another chick flick, huh?”

“Oh no. It’s hilarious,” you said with a snicker. “Though maybe it is better if we watch that one after dinner. There’s a scene with food poisoning from some sketchy-ass meat and…yeah. Anyway, you’ll like it, baby. I promise.”

Russell gave you an indulgent smile, but inside, he hid a guilty twinge. 

“What was your favorite thing to eat growing up?” you asked.

Russell was helping you unpack the groceries in the kitchen in a familiar routine. He’d been living with you for almost a year now, and still, little questions like this sometimes helped you get a window into the man.

Key word being sometimes, because even now, he considered your question with more uncertainty than it should warrant.

"You mean, uh, on the compound?" he asked.

"Sure." You'd take any brief spotlight into his childhood.

“Uh…kind hard to answer that one. We mostly ate whatever wild game we could catch,” he admitted. “A lot of rabbit. Which honestly wasn’t my favorite, but I learned to like it.”

He soon abandoned that thought to take out the peach cobbler from a grocery bag with a devilish cackle. You knew by the boyish look on his face that he’d be cutting at least two generous slices out of that one later.

“Maybe that explains why you’re such a foodie,” you wondered aloud. Because your man didn’t just like food. He was borderline obsessed with trying new spots with you, whether it was an upscale restaurant on the bougiest part of downtown, or a sketchy taco truck on the side of the freeway.

“Could be,” he acknowledged with a chuckle.

“What was it like having to hunt for your own food?” you asked. You’d studied history and ancient civilizations for both of your doctoral degrees, let alone your experience as a professor at Wyoming University, but studying hunter-gatherer communities was much different from having to learn how to survive for your next meal.

Russell set down the cobbler on the counter. He took advantage of the task of grabbing the vegetables next, handing them off to you so you could sort them the way you liked in the refrigerator.

“Wasn’t easy,” he said, “My dad was a taskmaster. And that wasn’t just about skinning rabbits and squirrels.”

You grimaced. “Squirrels too?!”

Russell nodded.

“We had these milestones…” he trailed, as the memory reappeared in his mind. “Heh. I remember being woken up and dragged out of bed in the middle of the night. Dad had me scale a cliff in almost pitch blackness. Couldn’t see the ground below me, could barely see a few inches above me. Was the day I turned thirteen years old.”

You paused what you were doing to meet his gaze. Jesus. Happy fucking Birthday, you thought, both in sarcasm and incredulous dismay.

Russell sighed and shook his head. He continued balling up empty grocery bags.

“That. That look right there,” he said, pointing at your face. “That’s why I don’t talk about this shit.”

You quickly recovered yourself and shut the fridge.

“I’m sorry, it’s just…” You turned to him and laid a hand on his forearm, sliding down to slip your hand into his. “I’ve given you the deep cuts, right? And my brother has no problem spilling all about my awkward teenage angst, and basically every embarrassing thing I’ve ever done since I was two. But with you, there’s still so much I don’t know, Russ. Not just about how you grew up, but about your life since then.”

Russell brushed his thumb over the back of your hand, but all he could really give you was a quirk of his lips.

“That’s classified,” he said, only somewhat joking.

“Look, I get that. I know there’s a lot you can’t tell me,” you said, “but give me the broad strokes, okay? Besides Doug, who have been the important people in your life? Where were you stationed? How many countries have you seen?”

Russell let out a deep breath. None of your questions had easy answers. He knew he needed to give you something, even if it was just broad strokes. But…he just couldn’t bring himself to look back anymore. There was too much tied to things he couldn’t, shouldn’t tell you. Mostly it was for your own safety, but selfishly, there were also things he didn’t want to let loose. If he did, maybe it would change the way you looked at him with those soft, loving eyes. 

“Look, maybe that’s not something we should get into tonight,” he said. 

 Your expression shifted into disappointment. You seemed to be making that face a lot lately, whenever he told you about another job out of town, whenever he didn't come home when he initially said he would, whenever he closed up on you.

But this time, you closed up on him.

“You know what, it’s been a long day. I think I’m feeling too tired to cook,” you said. You tossed the wad of empty grocery bags under the kitchen sink and passed by him on your way out of the room, and over to the bedroom.

Russell blinked in confusion. 

“Well, wait, what’re we gonna eat then?” he called after you.

“I don’t know. Make yourself a sandwich,” you said, just before he heard the door shut.

The loud thud made him sigh through his nose. He surveyed the ingredients you’d intended to cook with strewn across the kitchen counter and rubbed a hand over his bearded face. 

“Shoulda saved that conversation for after dinner,” he mused.

You and Russell were still at odds as you got ready for bed that night. After what happened in the kitchen, you cooled off for a bit. You did end up making the steaks and watching Terminator with him, but afterward, you went back to the bedroom to read by yourself, leaving him to watch old reruns of Seinfeld on TBS.

It was never really the same without you and your colorful commentary, or the way you often burrowed into his side and commandeered most of the couch. (He didn’t mind, long as he got to cop a feel every now and then.)

He could read you all too well though. He knew you were still mad at him.

He now eyed you in your silky negligée, which he thought you’d worn to bed on purpose just to torture him a little. It was the pretty purple one with lacy edges. He bought it for you while you two were on vacation in California a few months ago. 

Russell’s phone buzzing on his nightstand distracted him. He checked it before you had a chance to see what was on the screen. It was from his handler at Horizon, detailing a string of coordinates for his next gig—plus a ticket for his flight taking off in two days. Russell planned to tell you tomorrow after you cooled off a little more, though he knew it wasn’t going to be an easy conversation. 

He tried slipping into bed behind you and wrapping his arm around your waist, kissing your bare shoulder. He nosed past the thin strap of your nightgown and inhaled the pretty, floral scent of your soap…which he totally didn’t use himself.

“Nuh-uh,” you warned without even looking at him. It was a firm no on the touching, to which Russell exhaled and leaned back on his pillow, carding a hand through his hair. 

“Come on, baby. How long’re you gonna ice me out?”

“Until I actually know the man who’s in bed with me,” you snipped back testily.

“Hey, that’s not fair,” Russell said. He drew back in and kissed the side of your head, rubbing a hand down your shoulder. “You already know the important bits.”

“Oh, yeah? Like what?” you dryly replied. It was a struggle not to give into his touch, but this wasn’t the first time you two had a conversation, verging on argument about these things.  

He knew it all too well.

Still, he hesitated. Like what? How I’ve spent a long time doing what I’m told, and not a lot of asking questions. Probably not as much as I should’ve.

He shook his head. “I’m not gonna lie, I’ve seen a lot of shit that would blow your hair back. But even though my growing up was…unconventional, to say the least, it’s made me good at what I do. Most importantly though…” He pressed another gentle, lingering kiss into your neck. “This is where I want to be. You’re the one I wanna move forward with.”

He felt you take a long breath. He hoped it meant that you were hearing him, that you were softening.

“How are you going to do that when you’re away on another job?” you asked. 

Russell paused. 

You moved away from his hold and sat up in bed. He followed suit as he noted the look on your face, tired and upset. His brows furrowed, despite the prickle of guilt bubbling under his skin.

“What’re you talking about?” he said.

“Don’t even try it. I saw the coordinates pop up on your phone just now!” you snapped, and you make a sound of frustration, rubbing your face with both hands. “You promised me, Russell. You promised you’d be done with contract work months ago now. So what is it? Is it that you need more money for your brewery?”

Russell swallowed. The truth was, he’d made the target goal on his business account months ago, but he’d also found one reason or another to accept the last few jobs out of town. There was pressure from Horizon to stay on. They didn’t want to lose a valuable “contractor,” after all. But it was also his own unwillingness to give up the feeling of knowing exactly what he was doing, what he had been trained to do, and secretly, the way his work kept him on the edge. 

That flip in the stomach that forced him to make decisions in the breadth of a second? 

Well, it was a hard feeling to give up, and an even harder life.  

He rubbed a hand over his face with a tired sigh.

“Look, it’s more complicated than that,” he said. 

“You know what, I don’t think it is,” you shot back. “I think you’re a lot like Charlie, except this—this kind of work is your fix.”

The accusation stung like a hot iron poker. Russell opened his mouth to sling back a retort, even though he knew your aim was deadly when you wanted it to be.

You just turned away from him and shut off the light. 

In the morning, Russell woke to your side of the bed being cold and empty. It made him feel hollow, shitty, after the events of last night reared back up in his mind. 

He lied there between the sheets and listened. He could hear your familiar movements in the kitchen. Letting out a deep breath, he forced himself out of bed. 

After brushing his teeth and raking a hand through his messy bedhead, he cautiously approached the kitchen. Russell lingered in the doorway just outside of view. He found himself watching you putter around in your little nightgown, fuzzy slippers, and frizzy hair. Your fingers got tangled in it while your free hand grabbed the eggs from the fridge, your hip propping the door open. 

You’d made a pot of coffee and even set out his mug for him, as was your habit. Your own mug laid half-empty on the counter. His mug was somewhat special, though not just because it currently had a spoon resting inside it, ready for his sugar and cream.

You bought it for him last time you blew half your paycheck at Marshals; a home goods store he could rarely drag you out of within an hour. That mug featured all the major condiments, including sriracha, which was what made you think of him. It matched the sweatpants you found for him, covered in cartoony fries and burgers. 

They might’ve been silly gifts, but he liked that. He liked that you thought of him in the little things that somehow added up into the big things. They reminded him that you’d given him a chance. You’d given him home cooked meals, and let him make you a few too. You’d watched virtually every popular ‘90s movie that had ever been made with him—or at least, every one you thought he’d might like. You had a list of the 2000s to tackle next. 

You were an encouraging sounding board for him, whether it was talking about what he’d serve on the menu of his future brewery, brainstorming names, or even looking up what paperwork he would need to get started. You’d also been helping him navigate his relationship with Dory, and your brother Charlie, and even Colter, whenever Russell’s still admittedly distant relationship with his brother came up.

Russell washed your car and took out the trash and washed the dishes whenever you cooked, but standing here right now, it finally clicked just how much you actually did for him. How much you cared, and put your actions behind the caring part. You’d given him a place to come home to after decades in the service, and years more on the road.

Hell, you were his home. You and his sister.

But now, he realized why you were so upset. You thought he had one foot off of the firm foundation you were trying to build with him. You thought he wasn’t wanting to fully commit here, to you, and to the things he claimed he wanted. You were struggling to understand him.

So Russell entered the kitchen officially, padding in on sock-covered feet until he could slip his arms around you from behind. You stiffened in his grasp and turned to look at him over your shoulder. 

“Russ,” you warned, but he shook his head. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said. “You were right.”

You paused, allowing the fridge to close. Slowly you turned in his arms. You bit your lower lip and granted him a dubious gaze. Still, he counted it as a win when you tentatively held him back, slipping your hands over his biceps for stability. 

“About what?” you rose a brow in challenge.

“I’m gonna start shopping around for real estate here in Laramie, but first, I’m gonna start making moves on the business proposal for the brewery. Would you mind looking it over for me?” he asked. 

Your head tilted as you considered what he was saying, as well as what he wasn’t saying.

“But aren’t you…leaving?” 

“I’m not taking that job,” Russell said. “I’m calling Horizon today, tell ‘em I’m retiring. For good this time.”

It took a while, but his words seeped into your mind and settled there on the ocean floor. Tears began to sting in your eyes, but you nodded and reached up on your toes for a sweet, lingering kiss. You stroked his cheeks and slipped your fingers through his hair when you hugged him. He held you back just as tightly. 

He knew he hadn’t given you everything you asked for, but this felt like a good start.

Russell expected the call at some point, but half an hour was a new record. It was a Saturday, and he made sure you were busy in the laundry room before he took the call in your brother’s old room—AKA: Russell’s office. 

Charlie had been out of rehab for a few months now, rooming with Manny, one of his old unit buddies. Your brother agreed to leave the family house to you though, since you’d always been the stable one who could actually take care of the mortgage and the general upkeep of the house. Russell joined Charlie and his friends for beers every so often, either at Charlie’s apartment, or a new bar close to downtown. 

They traded stories and friendly fire at one another, Russell from his side of the branch in Special Ops, to Charlie and his friends in the Air Force. Dave and Manny could be especially loud-mouthed when tequila was involved, but Russell welcomed the good-natured ribbing with a few good pot shots of his own (he was still a little proud of “glorified flight attendants”).  

Now though, Russell held the phone to his ear and greeted the man on the other line.

“Hey, man. What’s up?” 

“What’s up?” Adam intoned. “‘What’s up’ is that you’re leaving us high and dry, Russ. What’s that about?” 

“Look, you know this was never a permanent gig for me,” Russell replied, speaking quietly just in case you were close by. “It’s high time I took a break, settled down, you know?”

Adam snorted. “You don’t have a civilian fucking bone in your body, Russell.”

“Well, that’s nice. I appreciate the vote of confidence.”

“Look, you’re the best man I ever worked with. The best CO I ever had. You pulled my ass outta the fire more times than I’d care to admit,” Adam said, “but you remember that last tour?”

Russell sobered. “You know I do.”

“And you remember what I had to do to get us out of that mess. Out of Nicaragua.”

Not like you’d ever let me forget it, Russell thought. Though it was nothing he didn’t see behind his eyes when he went to sleep.

“But when I got this gig, and they asked me who I’d recruit, you’re the first guy I thought of,” Adam said. “Well, you and Dougie. He fucking quit on me too.” 

Russell was happy for Doug. He and his wife just had their first baby a few months ago. One chunky little boy. 

“Look,” Russell said. “I’m grateful for…everything, you know that. But this is just something I gotta do. I’ve got other responsibilities now.”

“Yeah. How is your girl, huh? Been wanting to grab a beer with you, maybe get to finally meet her.”

Russell’s lips twitched. He didn’t talk about you as a rule, not to anyone in Horizon. Aside from Doug, Adam was the only one on the payroll who knew Russell’s real name, let alone about you. This was supposed to be a secure line though. 

“She’s waiting on me, Adam. Can’t keep doin’ that to her,” Russell replied. 

After a while, Adam sighed. 

“All right, Russ. I hear ya. I’m fucked, but I hear ya.”

“You’ll be fine,” Russell smirked. “You’ll find someone young and fresh off the meat market.”

Adam scoffed. “Right. These kids. Half of ‘em anxiety ridden pussies or juvie fucking flunkies. Can’t hack even half the shit we went through in basic, let alone eight months in Baghdad.”

That led into familiar territory. Russell shot the shit with his old friend for a few more minutes before he finally let Adam go. The phone hung from Russell’s hand after, and he expelled a sigh. He felt a twinge of regret, like he was letting go of hell of a lot more. 

After he left home and enlisted, it didn’t just become his life. It became who he was. Both his body and his mind were shaped by the structure of the chain of command, the mission, the follow-through. Muscle-memory.

Putting that aside had been harder than he imagined. After all, what the hell was he, if not a soldier?

Russell wrestled with that question longer than he cared to admit. It even had him getting up from his desk to consult a glass of bourbon he kept on the bookshelf. 

…It’s for the best, he reasoned. 

Even now, Russell didn’t get to see his little sister as often as he liked. Their work kept them moving in different directions, her busy teaching schedule not often gelling well with his more unpredictable one. But today, a Tuesday, he was taking her to lunch between classes.

She stopped short in the doorway of her office.

“Oh! Damn, I forgot…”

She meant to invite you too, but when she took her cell phone out to call you and see if you were busy, Russell laid a hand on her shoulder.

“It’s okay, she already knows I’m here,” he said. “But you and I are long overdue for some brother-sister time.”

Dory hesitated, but at his grin, she smiled back brightly and put her phone away. “Okay, then. Where do you want to go?”

He took her to a nearby café you told him about. It was one you and Dory frequented at least once a week, either for coffee and pastries, or for a nice protein bowl.

“Why is everything a damn bowl nowadays? They’re all just trying to be Chipotle,” Russell groused, but he ate his bowl of wild rice, steak, and arugula salad with just as much gusto as a carton of Chinese fried rice. He polished it off with a beer and tried to stifle his belch.

Dory rose a brow, but after a beat, she couldn’t hold in a laugh.

“Well, doesn’t seem to bother you that much,” she remarked. Her amusement slid into a teasing smirk. “Matter of fact, looks like you've been eating well since you started shacking up with my best friend.” 

Russell grinned around the lip of his beer. "What're you tryin' to say, D? You fat-shaming me right now?"

"Aw, I wouldn't go that far," she laughed. "You just look like you're settling in to this civillian thing."

Russell smirked. He couldn't argue with her. According to you, he was in super soldier shape. Still, he knew you were being a little too generous. He had softened around the pouch a little since he’d stopped moving around from motel to motel, no time to get comfortable, as he was now. His hard work was also looking different these days—sitting at his desk or on the couch with his laptop. He wasn't a complete sloth though; he still worked out on the regular.

“Gotta admit, she keeps me well-fed,” he said. Though there was no mistaking the glint in his eye, or the waggling of his brows. Dory snorted and shook her head. 

“Please, I don’t wanna hear about any of that. It’s bad enough I had to endure the beginning stages when you two couldn’t be in a room together without eye-fucking each other. Or sneaking off into a public restroom at our work Christmas party—to actually fuck each other.”

Russell spluttered a laugh into his beer, making a slosh of amber liquid run down his shirt. Dory smirked and handed him an extra napkin. He coughed and blotted out most of the stain himself, but gave her an accusatory look through his amusement. 

“You guys seem to be doing well though,” Dory said, her eyes softening along with her smile. “She told me that you finally quit Horizon.”

He rose a brow and set down the empty beer. “Finally?”

“Well, sorry, but she’s not the only one who worries about you, you know?” Dory grabbed her brother’s hand. “It’s been good to have you around this past year, getting to know you again. It feels like having a bit of home back.”

Russell smiled ruefully, squeezing her hand.

“Thought you didn’t like to think about all that.”

“It wasn’t all bad,” she admitted. Her head tilted in thought. “I remember, you used to sing to me whenever I couldn’t fall asleep.”

His mouth twitched, his eyes softening.

“Couldn’t blame you. That place made some weird-ass sounds at night,” he replied, though he sighed deeply through his nose. “You were just a kid.”

“So were you, Russ,” Dory reminded him. 

He held her gaze for as long as he could stand. Eventually, he lowered his eyes. He released her hand and went back to polishing off the flourless chocolate cake she’d ordered for dessert. 

“That night…you really recognized the man Dad was talking to?” Dory asked after a while.

Russell was a little surprised she was bringing that up, but he nodded slowly. 

“I did, but hell. That was twenty years ago.”

She bit her lip. “I still can’t believe Colter thought you…”

“That’s in the past too,” Russell said, his tone even more dismissive.

Hmm. Protesting a little too much, Dory thought.

“Did you ever tell her?” she asked.

They both knew who she meant. You.

“She knows the main bits, but you’re asking if I told her how our brother thought I killed Dad?” Russell scoffed. “No. Didn’t think that little footnote would go over well.”

Dory stared back at him with concern in her blue eyes. She didn’t like keeping things from you, even if it wasn’t her secret to tell. Unfortunately, her family had a lot of secrets.  

“It’s not worth getting into, D,” Russell said. “That, or any of it…though I don’t know. I don’t think Colter’s ready to let it go. He believes me now, but he wants to know who got to Dad, and why. He’s tenacious, I’ll give him that.”

Unlike Colter, it seemed, Russell had an image of his father that had lasted in his mind. It wasn’t a good one. 

Paranoid son of a bitch. 

Russell couldn’t really blame Colter though. He was young when they were taken to the compound. He probably didn’t remember his friends, the house, the way they lived before. 

Russell had been ten years old. He remembered being on the baseball team doing well as a pitcher, and having to lie to his coach and quit the team. Russell remembered saying goodbye to his best friend, Randy, who he never saw again. Russell remembered having to lock up his tears and help his mom take care of his younger siblings, and make sure they were settling into a musty old cabin in the middle of the woods. 

“I’ve tried looking into it before,” he admitted.

Dory’s brows raised. “When?” 

He waved a dismissive hand. “A long time ago, when I had government access to some things. Got a whole lot of nadda.”

“No good is going to come of it, and I told Colter the same thing,” Dory said, shaking her head. “Whatever happened, it’s better if we all just move on.”

She continued eating. After a beat of hesitation, Russell followed suit.  

A couple of weeks later, Russell felt like he’d made good progress. He narrowed down his search to three different spots in downtown that were up for leasing, though one of them was a bit too close to Howley’s for your comfort, which meant he really had two options. Both were walkable, but one had more parking availability, while the other was a better price for the amount of interior square footage. It was a lot to consider.

You’d given him the number of a good commercial realtor you knew, thanks to your boss, Dr. Goldstein. Looked like that stuffed suit was good for something, other than piling his work onto your plate so he could get his monthly back wax. 

You were still at work on a Thursday when Russell’s phone rang. He quirked a brow at the caller ID, but a grin tugged at his lips when he answered. 

“Well hey there, Ms. Greene.”

“Russell, where are you right now?”

“Chillin’ at home. Working through some stuff on my new business venture. Though if the next question’s ‘What am I wearing,’ I gotta remind you that I’m happily off the market,” he teased.

“And thank God for that,” Reenie dryly remarked. “Listen, I need your help. Actually, I think Colter needs you.”  

He detected the urgency in her voice now, and he sobered. 

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“I don’t know, but I need you to find him. He’s been missing for over 24 hours.”

“Looks like I’m gonna be a little late for dinner,” Russell told you over the phone. "Uh, okay, maybe a lot late."

“What? It’s kind of hard to hear you. Do you have the top down on the Chevelle?”

“She’s a Chevelle Malibu, baby. Well, technically, Malibu for short—”

“Russell, what’s going on?”

“It’s nothing to worry about. Reenie called, and it looks like Colter might be in a hard spot. I just need to go help him out,” he replied. Really, he was fighting his worry as he pressed his foot a bit harder on the gas. The sleek Chevy flew down the highway at a speed that would make you hit his arm, if you were here. 

“Why does it sound like you’re giving me the kitty gloves version?” you asked him in suspicion. 

Russell smiled ruefully. This was why he loved you—for your mind. 

“Again, nothing to worry about. I’ll be home by the morning…probably.”

He heard your heavy sigh. 

“Okay, Russ. Just be careful, please.”

“Hey, you know me. I’m always careful.”

“Right,” you snorted. 

The curve of his lips kicked up into a grin. “I gotta let you go, but I’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah, okay…I love you.” 

His face softened a fraction. “Love you too, sweetheart.”

You hung up with your boyfriend and slipped your phone back in your purse. An undercurrent of worry churned in your stomach. You knew Russell was downplaying whatever was really going on. Reenie wouldn’t call him for help unless Colter was really in trouble, or else why wouldn’t she call the police? 

That rewardist work that Colter did, it had led him into some shady shit, according to Dory, like insidious cults, serial killers, and corrupt politicians. She talked to Colter now more than she used to, but even then, she knew he wasn’t giving her the whole story about most of his adventures. 

Must be a Shaw family trait, you thought sourly. 

With Dory on your mind, you decided to call her up and make tonight a girls’ night. You hung out at her apartment after work, splitting a bottle of wine and several orders of Mexican takeout while watching reruns of New Girl. 

“Where do you think they are right now?” Dory asked, for a moment sobering from laughing at Jess’s antics. 

You had your glass of wine poised to your lips in thought. “I don’t know, but I do know Russ wasn’t telling me the whole truth. I think Colter’s in trouble.”

Dory worried her lip. It clearly didn’t sit well with her that both of her brothers were MIA right now. You tried calling Russell earlier for a check-in, but his phone went straight to voicemail. Colter’s number didn’t even ring. It was just a dial tone, with a disembodied voice saying this number has been disconnected.

But there was nothing you two could do. Reenie had advised you to sit tight and wait for one of them to check in. 

“You know, I may not understand them sometimes, but it makes sense to me why they are the way they are,” she said. “They had it worse than me growing up, either because I was the youngest or because I was the only girl.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, though you had a feeling you knew where she was going with this. 

“I remember, Dad used to make them sleep outside sometimes. Somewhere in the middle of the damn woods, without supplies, without food,” Dory said. She actually began to tear up, her blue eyes turning pale and glassy. “I heard him and my mom arguing about it once. Finally he agreed to go out there and watch out for them—from a distance though, so they wouldn’t know he was there.”

You stared back at her in dismay. That hurt your heart so fucking deep. No wonder Russ didn’t want to open up about this shit. How can I blame him? How can a father…

You shook your head, resting a hand on her arm. 

“But why? Why did your dad do all this? Russell said he was paranoid, but…what was he running from?” you asked.

“We don’t know,” Dory admitted. After a moment, she looked over at you and held your gaze. “All that we did know, was that his death wasn’t an accident.”

That revelation shocked you. Your mouth parted, though no words escaped. 

Dory set down her wine and got up from the couch. Then, with a certain decision weighing in her eyes, she went over to her room. 

“D?” you questioned. “You’re just gonna drop a fucking bomb like that on me and walk away?!”

Not getting an answer, you rose to follow her, where you watched in bewilderment as she dug into the recesses of her closet until she found a plain white shoebox. It was just some old cardboard, frayed at the corners, but Dory hesitated to even open it. 

“What are you doing? What is that?” you asked.

“A few years back, a family friend gave this to me. Apparently it has some of my dad’s old stuff,” she said. “I’ve never wanted to go digging through it because I wanted to leave the past behind me. I think it’s been easier for me to say that, but not so easy for Colter and Russell.”

After a beat of hesitation, she handed the box over to you. 

“Would you give this to Russell when he gets back?” she asked. “He can do whatever he wants with it. Look inside, try to piece together what happened, or just burn it all. Either way, I’m done. As far as I’m concerned, my dad wasn’t really my dad after he took us to live in that place. And my mom…” She laughed humorlessly. “She was no saint either. She went along with everything my father did.”

You took the box from her with some concern. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Honestly, I don’t even like having it here. It’s just a…bad reminder.”

You rubbed a hand over her arm in comfort. "You guys never went to the police?"

Dory shook her head. "Mom didn't trust anyone, least of all the police. She probably thought it was safer for us."

"God, I'm sorry," you said. After a beat, you set down the box and pulled Dory into a hug. She rested her chin on your shoulder and squeezed her eyes tight for a second.

"It's okay," she said. "...It's in the past." 

Sure, you thought. But there were some scars that didn't fade, no matter how much you ignored them, banaged them, or tried to soothe them.

You took the box and left her apartment shortly after. She offered to let you stay the night so you wouldn’t be alone, but you declined. Russell installed a state-of-the-art security system in your house, making it feel like the safest place in the world to you. That was where you’d be able to sleep tonight, even with this mysterious old shoebox.  

The drive back was devoid of traffic this late at night, but after what happened with Eddie Mendez last year, you always felt uneasy driving alone at night. A good part of you was also still trying to digest all of this.

On one hand, you could understand Colter and Russell wanting to know what happened to their father. If Ashton was murdered, the reason could explain everything they went through growing up. 

With all of these thoughts rattling through your mind, you couldn’t even be completely relieved when you pulled into the driveway of your home. You walked into the house quickly, shut the door, and input the code to lock everything behind you.

Holding your purse on one shoulder and the box under your other arm, your first instinct was to find a good hiding place for it. You began to wonder if you should’ve accepted it from Dory at all. If her father’s death was no accident, then what was he killed for?

But…Dory had this thing in her closet for all this time without incident. Surely there was nothing diabolical about it. Ashton Shaw had been a professor too, right? It probably just held some keepsakes, a few old essays, some paperclips and 20-year-old dust bunnies…

You found a place in the house that a burglar would be unlikely to look for something valuable (again, really, what kind of burglar would want to steal a shoebox of old junk?), and you took a deep, calming breath in the middle of your living room. 

You still hadn’t been able to get in touch with Russell. All your texts had been going unanswered. You grabbed your phone and began to find Reenie in your contacts, but you paused. You were reminded of something you forgot to do when you walked in the door. 

Along with the coded door lock, there was an app on your phone where you could monitor the cameras strategically placed outside the house. However, when you checked the app, you realized that the camera feed said Unavailable. For every single camera. 

Your brows furrowed. That’s weird… 

Seconds later, the first bullet broke through your impact windows. 

AN: 🫣 Oh sorry, did I not mention there was a cliffhanger? You can rant and scream in the comments, it's totally fine. 😂

As you can see, we're in the middle of 2x02, with my own twist on some things around it. Plus some material from the books making it into this part - and more heavily implied in the next part - coming next Sunday!

Next Time:

While the phone rang, tucked between your shoulder and your ear, you were forced to set down the gun. With trembling hands, you quietly rifled through your medicine cabinet for gauze or an ace bandage. Fuck, yes! Okay. This could work. You found the big square bandages that stick on. Russell bought them the last time he came home with a couple of nasty abrasions from a job.

Still, the phone rang.

Come on, come on, come oooon!

“Hello?” The lawyer’s voice was smooth and retaining a note of exasperation.

“Reenie! Where’s Russell?” you whisper-hissed.

“I have him right here. What’s wrong?” she asked. Immediately, her tone shifted to concern. You’d never met Reenie in person, but you knew she worked with Colter and, according to Russell, was damn good at what she did. 

You didn’t give a shit about any of that right now.

“Put him on the phone, please!” 

In a few seconds of shuffling, you finally, finally heard his voice. 

“Sweetheart, what’s going on?”

A breath of relief escaped you in a rush.

“Russell,” you sobbed.

⌖ Keep Reading: PART 2

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[cherrycola27]

The Tipping Point

Summary: When Jake learns that no one has ever satisfied you, he makes it his mission to change that. Inspired by my favorite Seresin Slut @thedroneranger and my favorite Rooster fic I've written Just The Tip

Warnings: Language, Smut, 18+ Minors DNI

Pairing: Hangman x Reader

...........................................

Your eyes are as wide as the dinner plates the two of you were eating off of. You couldn't believe what your boyfriend had just suggested.

"You can't be serious." You said, looking at him in disbelief. "Jake, please tell me you're kidding."

"I'm as serious as a heart attack, darlin." Jake smiled back at you. "Jake, I—" He cut you off before you could finish.

"You told me that when we first started dating, you wanted to take things slow. And I'm totally okay with that. But you've also told me that no one has ever been able to get you off. I want to change that." He stated.

"I understand that, Jake, but I—" you protested.

"But nothing, honey. I'm a visual learner. Show me what you like. I want to take care of you. I want to show you that I'm better than the guys you dated before me. Prove that I am the best of the best." He smirked.

It really shouldn't come as a surprise to you. The fact that Jake 'Hangman' Seresin, Naval aviator extraordinaire, would want to prove to you that he is the best. The two of you had been together for just over five months, and in that time, he'd already prove himself to be the best boyfriend you'd ever had.

When you first started dating, you told him you wanted to take things slow. After a while, you told him the real reason was because no boyfriend or hook up in the past had ever made you cum. He had been trying to rectify that situation for a while now.

Though, him asking you to touch yourself so he could watch was not something you expected. You met his eyes. At first, you thought he was kidding. But with just one look, you knew he was serious.

You sighed. "Okay" you said in a voice just above a whisper.

"Yeah?" He asked. "Yeah." You confirmed.

A huge smile broke out across his face. Before you could change your mind, Jake was scooping you out of your chair and hauling you to your bedroom.

He gently deposited your feet on the floor. "Where do you want me to sit? You're in charge here." Jake said, kissing your head.

"Um, you can pull my desk chair to the foot of the bed. You said shyly. Jake quickly grabbed it and positioned it. With your back turned to him, you stripped off your shirt and pants. In a moment of confidence, you turned to face him. You were wearing a baby blue set. You could see he pupils go wide at the site of you.

Without saying a word, you reached behind your back and unhooked your bra. You slipped it off your shoulders and tossed it to the ground.

Silently, you let your panties slide down your legs. They were already damp, just from the intensity of how he was watching you.

Feeling cocky, you balled them up and tossed them to him. He caught them and immediately inhaled your scent.

"All of this just for me?" He asked. You giggled.

"Do you mind if I use my vibrator?" You asked him.

"Whatever you want, sweetheart. This is about you." He said. There wasn't a hint of jealousy in his voice. You'd been with a few gues who would have scoffed at the idea, but not Jake. He wanted to learn what made you tick. He was invested in you.

You opened your nightstand and pulled out your favorite purple bullet. You grabbed a pillow and laid down on the bed. Once you were comfortable, you put the pillow under your hips and spread your legs.

"Such a pretty pussy." Jake mumbled out. You raised your head just enough to look at him. His eyes were trained on your core.

You grabbed your vibrator and turned it to your favorite setting.

You let it slide through your slick and gathered it up before setting it directly on your clit.

You circled the toy around your aching bundle of nerves and sighed. Your left hand came up to squeezed your breasts, bringing your nipples to hard, pebbled peaks.

"Oh, Jake," you sighed. His names fell easily from your lips as you dipped your toy into your wet cunt before dragging it back to your clit.

"Fuck," you heard Jake grunt out. You looked up to see his shirt had been stripped off and that his pants and boxers were pushed down to his ankles and he was stroking his cock.

"Learning anything?" You asked him.

"Lots, keep going, baby. I want to see you cum for me." He moaned out.

Emboldened by his words, you turned the vibrator up a setting. The strong vibrations made your body jolt.

You kept circling the toy on your clit, applying pressure. You could feel your release approaching. Your toes curled, and you felt yourself clenching around nothing.

Your head thrashed wildly, and you couldn't contain your cries of pleasure.

"Oh fuck Jakey. Feels so good. Mmm, yes, Jake, yes!" You cried out.

"Keep going, baby girl. You have no idea how hot this is. My cock is so fucking hard from watching you. Better than any fucking porn." He moans out. You can hear him panting. It makes you even wetter knowing that he is enjoying this just as much as you are.

"I'm s'close Jake. I'm gonna cum." You cry. You can feel the tightness in your belly.

"Cum for me baby. I wanna see you cum for me. Please." Jake almost begs.

You flick your wrist and circle your bud a few more times before you are cumming hard.

"JAKE!" You cry his name as you work yourself through your high.

Once you've come down. You turn the toy off and set it to the side. You sit up enough to look at him.

Jake is panting, and you see the white ropes of cum covering his abdomen.

"Christ baby, you don't know how hot that was." He tells you.

You lay back on the pillows and sigh. You're trying to think of a smart ass reply, but your brain isn't working.

"Has anyone ever gone down on you?" Jake asks.

"No." You breathe out, still staring at the ceiling.

"Can I?' He asked. "Now?" You lean up and see that he's moved from the chair and is kneeling at the foot of the bed.

"There's no better time than the present." He states.

"You're sure?" You ask him. This is definitely not how you thought this evening would go.

He nods his head furiously.

"Well, why not?" You say before flopping back.

You'd no sooner gotten settled before Jake was pulling you to the edge of the bed. He made sure the pillow was still under your hips before he threw both of your legs over his shoulders.

"Tell me what you like and what you don't like, okay?" He asks.

"Yes, sir." You mock. But anything else dies on your lips as he broad, flat tongue slides across your slit.

Your hips jump at the pleasant but unfamiliar sensation. You hear him chuckle as his forearm comes to lay across your pelvis to keep you in place. He does it a few more times before tracing your clit with the just the tip of his tongue.

"Mmm.. that feels good." You sigh. He keeps doing it, speeding up and applying more pressure each time he does it.

It feels good, but you need more. You thread your fingers through his hair and push his face towards your core.

Taking the hint, Jake wraps his lips around the bundle and sucks it—hard.

"Shit! That feels so good, baby." You cry out. Jake hums against you and does it again.

He let's go of it would a soft pop before dipping his tongue into your greedy, wet hole.

He fucks it into you repeatedly. Your cries of pleasure, spurring him on. He laps at your core, tasting your sweet nectar. His nose bumps against your clit with every lick.

"Jake, I—I need—" you pant.

"What do you need, baby. Use your words. Tell Daddy what you need princess.

"Your fingers. Please, Daddy... need them to fill me up." You cry out.

He sinks his middle and ring fingers into you. You're so wet for him, the glide in easily. You're vaugly aware of the cool metal of his Naval Academy ring against your heat.

He curls them into you. Easily finding the textured spot that is guaranteed to have you cumming in minutes.

"Oh, Daddy, fuck, Jake, just like that!" You moan out.

Your hand grips his hair tighter. Your thighs close in on his head, trapping him there. The heel of your foot digs into his back. He'll probably have a bruise there in the morning, but neither of you seem to care.

Everything feels so fucking good. This is what you had been missing out on. Watching you get off had Jake hard as a rock again. He ground his hip into your mattress to relieve some pressure.

"You look so pretty like this baby." Jake praises you.

You look down and meet his eyes. The green of them is just a thin halo around his lust blown pupils. Never breaking eye contact, he sucks your clit back into his mouth and speeds up the motions of his fingers, curling them and scissoring your walls.

"Just like that! Oh, just like that! Please don't stop!" You beg him.

"Don't plan on it, sweets. Daddy isn't going to stop until you cum all over his face. Come on baby, give it to me. Make a mess all over my face!" He encouraged you.

You can feel your high building deep inside you. It's different, though. It's more intense than any orgasm that you've ever given yourself.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck." You chant.

"Jake, I'm gonna, shit daddy, gonna—" You try to warn him, but it's all too much, and before you can say anything else, you're cumming hard against his face. It's harder than you ever have cum in your life.

He works you through it, lapping and curling his fingers. He doesn't stop until you're cumming again. Screaming his name so loud, you know your neighbors can hear you.

He continues to drink up every last drop of your release. Your thighs are shaking as you push his head away. He unwrap himself and leans back on his haunches.

His spend coats his boxers because getting you off twice, with just his mouth and his fingers, God it was hot. But making you squirt for him? He feels like God himself because of that.

He crawls up beside you in the bed. Your eyes are glassy and your whole body is flushed.

"That was amazing." You gasp. You turn and look at him. He has a genuine smile on his face.

"So I'm definitely the best then?" He asks with a grin.

"Definitely. The others can't compete where they don't compare." You affirm.

He leans down to kiss you.

"We need to get cleaned up and change the sheets. We made a mess." He tells you.

"This goes without saying, but you're definitely the first person to make me squirt too." You tell him as you sit up.

"And I plan to be the last." He affirms as the two of you head to the shower.

"Is that so?" You cock an eyebrow and look at him.

"Absolutely."

Hope yall enjoyed this! As always, likes are great, but comments and reblogs are golden

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[familyvideostevie]

𝕟𝕠 𝕘𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝕒𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘: 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕣

a farmer's market steve harrington x reader au

part 1 [7.2k] | part 2 [8.3k] | part 3 [13.3k] | part 4 [4.7k] | au masterlist

Every day you wake up and wonder if today is the day you'll cry. It hurts to look at the blank walls of your bedroom and the small pile of things on your dresser you were going to put up: the drive-in ticket, a polaroid Jonathan took of you at the New-Bee's stall, a candle label from your first batch. Does it even matter now?

But the tears don't come. So you decide to push on the bruise in your chest, the ache that has returned full force but worse. It's in the shape of Steve.

You think about the first time you saw him, how you wanted him to touch you so badly even though he made you so mad. You think about him in the rainstorm, wet and willing to help you, you think about him under you at the drive-in, hands eager and rough. You think about him on top of you in his bed, gentle and tender as he panted your name. 

And you've ruined it all. You've ruined whatever was between you, that glowing, beautiful thing, and you've hurt him in the process. Which is the thing you can't forgive yourself for. 

You're eating breakfast in the farmhouse kitchen the morning of the first November market. Bob knows you're not coming -- you told him you weren't feeling great and he totally understands. You've worked hard the last few months and he knows it. He also knows that something is wrong, that Halloween changed something. That the phone call with Steve was about much more than just you getting home safely.

"Hey, kiddo," he says, packing his lunch before he leaves for the market. "Have you thought about what you want to do after the last market next week?" It's hard to believe that there really is only one more week in the season. The leaves are almost all gone and you can smell winter in the air. 

You swirl your spoon in your oatmeal and don't look at him. "I'm not sure yet," you sigh. A call home last week hadn't helped, though it did convince you that the last thing you want is to move back in with your parents. "Mom says it's up to me."

"Well," he says, dragging out the word. "You're welcome to stay here and keep working on the farm. We've got lots of things to make for the holidays. Or you can get a job in town!" You don't realize that you never thought Bob would want you to stay until the words leave his mouth. But how silly of you to think that he'd be anything but kind to you, even if you're not contributing to his business. "Point is," he continues, "you can stay here as long as you want."

For a long second your heart considers it. Staying in Hawkins, making it your home. Regardless of your current circumstances. 

Which you need to figure out. Regardless of how you feel and how Steve feels, you owe him an apology at the very least. 

But you're not feeling very brave yet, so you call Sara's Farm while the market is going on, hoping no one will be there and you can just leave a message. 

The dial tone only rings once before a sweet voice answers. "Sara's Farm, this is Jane, how can I help you?"

"Hi, El," you say. She gasps your name in delight, then says it once more in a tone you like much less. Did Steve tell anyone what you did? That you left him?

"Why aren't you at the market?" she asks. "Are you okay?" Her automatic concern washes away your own. 

"Don't worry about me," you say. 

"I do! Steve said you got sick on Halloween and had to go home. Are you still sick?" She doesn't totally believe you, you can tell. A lump rises in your throat. He's kept your business between you both. It makes your heart do something funny in your chest.

"I feel better," you lie. "Can you tell Steve that I called? That I want to talk to him?"

El pauses before she answers. "Do you think you're gonna figure it out? Whatever happened?" Smart girl, you think.

"I hope so," you tell her. She says your name again, this time sounding like a scold.

"Good, because you both are much more fun when you're happy together." That, more than anything in the last few days makes tears prick in your eyes. 

And maybe that's why you burst into tears when someone knocks on the farmhouse door and you see that it's Robin. You can barely speak when she spills into the kitchen, cheeks rosy despite her hat, gloves, and at least four layers. 

"So you are alive!" she says, and then realizes you're basically sobbing. "Oh, god. Wait, let me just --" She toes off her shoes and drops her gloves and outermost jacket on the ground before she opens her arms. "Okay. Do you want a hug?" You step into her embrace before she's finished asking. Her hands rub up and down your back in a slightly awkward way that's all Robin. 

"Sorry," you hiccup. "This is embarrassing. I don't know why I'm crying." That much is true. There are so many things you're feeling that you don't know which ones you're upset about at this moment. 

"I'm not good with crying girls," she says as you both sway side to side in your hug. "Crying anyone, really. I just never know what to say! But I do know that you have nothing to be sorry about. You can cry all you want. It's great for your skin! Well, I don't actually know that but Nancy told me once. And, well, you know Nancy. If she says it it's probably true, right?" You huff, throat thick but eyes starting to dry. You wiggle out of her arms and turn to wipe your face. 

"Do you want something to drink?" you ask her. "How was the market?" Ever adaptable to a change of subject, Robin sits at the kitchen table as you fill a glass of water without waiting for her answer. 

"It was...boring without you," she says slowly. "Strange, too. Bob told people you didn't feel great so I thought I'd come check on you."

You hum and sniff a little. You must look like a wreck from crying. "I, uh..." You can't look at her. 

"I know something happened." She sighs. "Steve didn't tell me what but I figure you guys had a fight or something? And look, he's my best friend but you're both my friends and I don't want to get in the middle of it but I do care that you're both miserable."

You turn around and she's looking at you with such kindness, such warmth, that you have to swallow another round of tears. "We didn't fight," you tell her. "The opposite, really. But I messed it up and hurt him because I'm scared."

"Kinda looks like you hurt yourself, too," she says, not unkindly. "Is it something...you want to fix?"

"I don't know if I can." You scrub at your swollen eyes with cold hands. "But even if he can't forgive me I need to explain myself and apologize. And then..." you trail off. 

"And then?" she asks. "I know you have a lot going on so I wasn't going to ask but there's only one market left and...do you know if you're gonna stay here? In Hawkins?"

You don't answer right away and Robin squirms in her seat but lets to think about it. Because a not small part of you wants to tell her that yes, you'll stay. You want to. You love it here. But things are a mess right now and it doesn't feel fair to make the choice before you've talked to Steve. 

"I don't know," you finally say. 'I don't know how staying would work. It might be better just to leave. Easier." The words taste wrong in your mouth but you can't take them back.

Robin's chair scrapes on the hardwood as she gets up and walks around the table to stand in front of you. "One thing at a time, then, right? And you'll tell me when you decide?" You grab her hand. 

"Of course, I will. I just have to talk to Steve first."

___

It takes you three days to work up the courage to call Sara's again. Hopper picks up. 

"Sara's," he says gruffly.

"Uh, hi, it's --" He sighs before you can finish your sentence. 

"Harrington!" he yells, though it's muffled as if he covered the receiver with his hand. Your stomach flips. "What do you mean who is it? Who else calls around here looking for you?" You can't hear Steve, and then Hopper's back on the line.

"I don't think I want to know why he won't talk to you," he says. This time, your stomach feels like a lead weight.

"That's fine," you rush out. "Can you give him a message for me? Uh, Hopper, sir?"

"Jesus Christ," he says. "I guess I don't have a choice. He looks like a kicked puppy."

"Tell him to meet me at the lake tonight, if he can? Where we had the bonfire? 8 pm?" You try to keep the pleading out of your voice but you must fail because Hopper's next words are almost kind.

"Sure, kid. I'll tell him." The phone clicks and you hear the dial tone. 

You don't really expect him to show up. It's freezing, cold enough that you're sitting in the cab of the truck with the heat on while you wait in the dark. The remains of your bonfire from weeks ago sit in the fire pit, the ash and charred logs illuminated by your headlights. Why did you think this was a good idea? Steve has no reason to hear you out. He has every right to never speak you to again, no matter how awful that would be. 

But then you hear it -- the rumble of a truck, headlights bright on the shore next to yours. Before the lights in the cab go out you can see Steve take a deep breath. He opens the door and walks quickly through the cold, his breath puffing in front of him, to your passenger door. You have to force yourself to keep your own inhales even at the sight of him. Your entire body feels like it's aching as he climbs in next to you. He feels miles away.

"Hey," he says. He clears his throat and doesn't look at you for longer than a quick glance up and down. "Are you okay? You weren't at the market on Saturday."

"I'm fine," you say, the lie now familiar in your mouth. "Are you okay?" You don't know what possesses you to ask. He looks fine, if a little cold. Same warm eyes, if a bit wary, messy hair pushed into his hat haphazardly. He looks pretty as always.

"Honestly?" You nod, though he's not looking at you. "Not really."

"Steve--" you start, but he interrupts you.

"I wasn't going to come," he says, then shakes his head. "No, sorry, that's not true. I've been jumping every time the phone rings for almost a week, hoping it's you. But I can't bring myself to answer it. I've been desperate to see you again but I also can't look at you because it makes me sad."

"Sad?" you whisper.

"Because I don't understand what happened. And I want to fix it, but I also want to be mad at you. And I can't figure out how to do either."

He doesn't say anything else and you take a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Steve," you say. You've said the words out loud to yourself hundreds of times by now and they taste funny in your mouth. Like missed opportunity. Like your own mistakes.

"Can I ask why?" he says, finally turning to look at you head-on. "Why you left?"

"I--yeah. Yeah, of course. I want to explain myself. I owe you that." How do you do this without telling him you love him? Without sounding like you're trying to manipulate him into forgiving you? Because that's the last thing you want to do. "I hope I don't need to tell you that it's nothing you did," you say. "It's all me. And I know that sounds like it's not you, it's me but that's the truth. It's me. I-- I freaked out. I freaked out because you have changed my entire life, Steve. You've turned it upside down and made me love a place I didn't feel right in at first and you-- you are good and kind and everything wonderful about this town." You've kept your eyes on your hands clenched tight in your lap but you look up at him then. His gaze is steady, brows furrowed. "And I...god, Steve. I don't want this to sound like I'm guilting you or anything because it's only been a few months but that night I realized that I'm falling in love with you and it's scaring the shit out of me."

You're looking at him as you say it, so you see that he doesn't react even a little bit. It makes your chest tighten, but you push that down. It's not about if he loves you or not. It's about apologizing. 

"I understand how that's scary," he says carefully. His own hands are shoved in his pockets. You wonder if he's clenched them into fists. "I just don't know why you'd leave instead of telling me how you were feeling."

"I wish I could take that back." 

He looks away again. "Do you regret everything else, too? Having sex? Everything before?"

"God, no," you breathe out. "No, Steve. I don't regret any of that." You want to touch him but you know you shouldn't. It wouldn't help anything.

"Do you get why you leaving like that hurt?" he asks. "Why the last thing I expected to come back to was an empty bed?" You chew on your lip as he keeps talking. "Because I thought we had figured that out. The whole...not talking to each other bullshit. Dealing with our emotions unfairly, being too hasty and hurtful. You helped me learn how to do that and I tried for you."

There's nothing to say. Other than the truth. "I know, and I'm sorry," you tell him. "I freaked out and I hurt you and that was the last thing I wanted to do. And I understand if you can't forgive me--"

"I didn't say that," he interrupts, tone a hair from desperate. The first real emotion you've heard from him other than frustration. "I just need some space, I think. Okay?" He lifts his hand in the air and it seems to hover in the space between you before he brushes his knuckles against your cheek. You inhale raggedly. 

"Okay," you say. He smiles but it's sad and climbs out of your truck and back into his, driving into the night with a little wave.

You sit in silence for a few seconds before hot tears trickle down your cheeks. But this time, they're of relief. Because he doesn't hate you. Because he might forgive you, someday. Your chest aches but just for a moment, you let yourself feel all of it: the overwhelming sensation of being in love with Steve. It washes over you and all you want is for him to be happy.

Maybe when you tell him you're going to stay in Hawkins he'll even be glad about it. He cares about you, no one can deny that. And maybe, maybe he can love you.

___

After you talk with Steve you allow yourself to lean into preparing for the last market. You barely leave the farm because you make as many candles and soaps as you can. You wander into the farmhouse after finishing your latest batch of candles -- Steve's candles, as you call them in your head -- to find a fairly large size wicker basket on the counter. 

"What's this?" you ask Bob. He's tying string onto honey jars. 

"I was hoping you could tell me," he smiles. The basket contains an odd collection of stuff, all from local businesses. A small bouquet from Byers Flowers, a bag of mushrooms from Rick's, some jam from Sara's. A tiny pumpkin with a face drawn on it and even one of your own candles. 

"Lucas Sinclair and Will Byers biked that over and dropped it off. Said it was for you." He points to the card you'd missed before that's nestled behind. the flowers. 

We hope this humble offering helps convince you to stay in Hawkins! 

It's written in a steady hand you know to be Will's and signed by every kid individually: Will, Dustin, Max, Lucas, Mike, and El.

"Wow," you whisper. "I guess the rumor mill has started."

"I've heard that you might be leaving," Bob says. "Not sure where that came from." Robin, you think. Your darling friend might have gotten ahead of herself. "We don't have to talk about it, but have you thought any more about what you want to do?"

You don't hesitate, eyes on the card in your hand. "I want to stay."

__

The final market is the busiest Saturday you've seen, even though it's practically freezing. The November chill worms its way under your three layers, hat, and gloves. You should have worn two pairs of pants. There is laughter and your candles fly off the stand. There's a stand of hot cider somewhere that smells delightful.

And the weirdest thing keeps happening. People keep stopping you to say that they don't want you to leave town, and then when you tell them you aren't going to, they're so relieved. You've had the same conversation with so many customers that you've lost count. It really is a small town, you think. Your small town.

"Hey!" Eddie bounds over to your stall as the market is about to end, curls shoved into a black beanie with a pom-pom on top. He looks to be wearing at least three flannels under his leather jacket. "I heard you're leaving?" He looks pretty down about it, too. "I'd have brought you some mushrooms but I know you don't like them."

"Where did everyone get this idea that I'm leaving?" you huff. "I only told Robin that was still trying to decide--" Eddie scrunches up his nose and grimaces. "Did she tell you I was leaving?"

"Welllll..." he drags out. "She might have hinted that she thought you were going to and I think the story got out somehow." Then he brightens. "So you're not leaving?"

You smile, allowing the happiness of your choice to fill you for just a second. "I'm sticking around," you tell him. He whoops far too loudly.

"Thank Christ," he says. "Otherwise we'd have to deal with a sad Harrington forever." You look at your feet. "Oh, come on," he says. "You haven't made up yet?"

"How do you know about that?" you mumble, eyes still on the ground.

"Sweetheart," Eddie says. "Anyone can tell just by looking at Steve that he's down as hell. And he won't tell anyone why." 

"I--" You want to ask him more, ask him what he's talked to Steve about, ask him if he's seen Steve today since you haven't, but before you can Robin runs over. 

"You're staying?" she pants. "I heard it from Vickie who heard it from Brenda who heard it from her mom who heard it from you. I thought you were going! I told people you were going!" The memory of you crying in her arms flashes in your mind. Maybe it's not so outrageous that she got the impression you wanted to leave Hawkins.

"Well, here I am," you say. "If you'll have me."

"Fuck yeah we'll have you," Robin cries, grabbing your hands over the stall counter. A few people shoot her dirty looks for her language but she doesn't notice.  "Oh my god, we're going to have so much fun. You have to come visit me at school, and we'll do Friendsgiving, and New Year's Eve, and --"

She prattles on about all the things you're going to do, and you can't fight your smile. But there's a lingering barb in your chest because you still have to tell Steve. Have to see if he's forgiven you if he ever will. If he's okay with you sticking around, regardless. 

You want to ask Robin about him but you don't. He'll come to you if he wants to since he's the one who wants space and you want to respect that. But it would be nice to see him here, at the place where you met. The place where it all started. 

So after your friends wander away with a bounce in their steps, you soak in the last moments of your last market for this year. Vendors wave at you on their way out and you pack up as slowly as you can, stretching out the task as long as possible. And to see if Steve will come say hi after all. He must have hid in the Sara's tent all morning.

You're careful with the candles, eyes on the fading line on your palm. The giddiness of that day in the rain with Steve is a fond memory, even if it makes the ache more profound. His smile, his laugh, his gentle hands. Hands you hope to hold again. The crates are all done and you take a deep breath and tell yourself you have to bring them to the truck when you feel a prickle on the back of your neck. You look up and --

There he is. He looks frazzled, no hat or gloves despite the cold, cheeks and nose pink, and hair a riot. He walks towards you with determined steps, stopping a few feet away. 

"Hi," you breathe. "Hey, Steve," you say again, louder. It's like you willed him to come over here. 

"Uh, hi," he says, dragging one hand through his hair and shoving the other into the pocket of his jacket. "Sorry I didn't come over earlier. It's been really busy today and -- well." He sucks on his teeth and looks at the sky. "Listen, I heard some stuff today and I don't know what's true and I know I asked for space but I had to come ask you because --" He takes a breath. It's unlike him to ramble like this, you think. It's endearing. "Are you staying in Hawkins or are you leaving?" he asks. 

You blink. "Oh," you say. The rumors must have gotten to him and Robin hasn't set him right yet. "Yeah, that. Uh, well, first I just want to say I'm sorry again and I hope that the space is good for you." You clear your throat, swallowing the lump. "I want to fix things between us, whatever that looks like, but only if you want to. And I don't want to rush you, but --"

Steve takes a step towards you and your voice stops working for a second, long enough for him to start talking again. "Sorry, but before you go on and tell me you're leaving I just...please don't let it be because of me." He takes a hand from his pocket like he wants to reach for you but balls it into a fist instead. "If you want to leave I don't want to stop you because you have to do what's right for you and I know I asked for space but I don't think I want that and I should have just told you before." He takes a deep breath.

"Told me what, Steve?" you ask so softly you don't know if he hears you. He runs his hands through his hair again. He takes another step forward, so close that the tips of your shoes almost touch. His eyes are warm and bright when they meet yours.

"I'm in love with you. I love you. I don't know if you meant it by the lake and that's okay but I mean it now. It's soon and it's scary and I don't know what to do about it or where it'll take us but I just have to tell you so you know because...you can't leave without at least knowing that I do. You can't leave thinking I won't forgive you." He laughs a little to himself and takes half a step back. "And we need to work on our communication, especially if you leave, but I just want you whatever way I can have you--"

"Steve," you croak. It feels like your heart is going to beat out of your chest. He loves you.

He blinks a few times, shoving his hands back into his pockets. "Oh, sorry," he says. "Keep going with what you were saying."

Your thoughts are gibberish inside your head. All you can think is how badly you want to hold this boy in front of you. "Steve," you say again. He looks more worried this time, but before he can say anything you throw yourself at him, arms around his neck and chin hooked over his shoulder. He's quick to pull his hands out of his coat to wrap his arms around you and you feel his cold nose on the skin of your neck. 

"I'm staying," you say into his shoulder. "I'm not leaving."

He pulls away just enough to see you, noses almost touching. "Did I hear that right? You're staying?"

"Yeah," you nod. "I want to stay. I love this town and the people in it and it's home now. And I, uh, want to figure us out. If you want to." You are embarrassed to feel your lashes grow wet. Steve brings his hands between you and blows on them before he gently frames your face. 

"Did you think I'd not want to?" His thumbs stroke your cheeks. "I can say that whole speech again."

"No," you say, leaning into his palms. "I did think maybe you'd tell me not to stay. When we were at the lake. So I didn't bring it up." His face does something funny before he touches his forehead to yours. 

"I will never tell you to go because I want you here, wherever here is. I just want you with me." You want to pull him into your chest, to show him how your heart has his name on it.

"I still don't know what I want, Steve," you whisper. "I want to stay here but I don't know how long that'll last. I'm not sure of anything but I'm sure about you. I'm sure that I love you."

"We can figure it out," he says, mouth curling into a smile. His eyes shine bright at your words. You both know that you have a lot of work to do -- learning how to communicate better, how to love each other right, how to deal with your own wounds and insecurities and feelings. There is growing to do. But you can do it together. 

"Okay," you nod. Your noses brush. Maybe it is that easy. Just deciding what you want and seeing it in front of you and taking it. Calling it yours, holding it close. All of the hard stuff has led to this and maybe it was all worth it to get to this point -- the fighting and the misunderstandings and all of the kisses and the ache in your chest that you now know is just love. It's love with all its aches and pains and it's worth it.

"Can we kiss now, please?" he asks you. His breath is hot on your skin, visible in the space between you. 

"Yes, please."

The press of his lips to yours is delicate, soft. It's loving. His thumbs stroke your face lazily and you grab his forearms gently, feeling the strength and the warmth of him through his layers. All Steve, you think. All yours. It's like he's thinking the same thing because his mouth curls into a smile against yours and you're not so much kissing as grinning against each other but it's exactly what you want. It's Steve. It's home.

THE END.

tags: @cheerupbarry @srrybutno @97soroka @sunlitide @gloryofroses19 @carpediem1219 @themarvelousbee @sunshinehollandd @katsukis1wife @imherefortea @spideyboipete @lonelywidow @actual-mom-steve-harrington @steveharringtonscarkeys @pennyllanne @ducky-is-dead-inside @ih3artcry1ng @escape-in-time-x @sea040561 @manyfandomsfanvergent @blandyton @liberhoe @annaisweird @mrs-dr-reid @toomanyacorns @darlingoctober @selfdeprecatingnerd @dullsocietyy @keep-drivng @shireentapestry @mintfrostflower @freezaz123 @dahliamae @localbnbg @palmtreesx3 @eddiethesexy

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[awesomeanimelover39]

Hi!Since your request are open can I ask that IkeRev Alice is 2 or 3 months pregnant when she arrived in Cradle and the charactera are Ray,Lancelot, Jonah,Fenrir~~Advance thanks ^‌_^!

Yay! Ofc I can do this! (Lancelot and Jonah under the cut)

Requested by: @i-am-totally-a-weirdoo

Alice in early stages of pregnancy when arriving in Cradle

Ray Blackwell:

While he did notice your baby bump, he didn't exactly know what it was

He didn't want to ask, (he's not stupid) but he was curious

Eventually he wrote you a note and slipped it under your door, claiming another officer wanted to know

Of course, you knew he was in fact the one who was interested

Once you told him he was impressed

He thought you were pretty emotionally and physically strong for a woman who has a baby growing inside of her

He honestly admires you even more now

But as he watches you use magic, he suddenly grows more and more concerned

He didn't want you to hurt the human growing inside of you

He loves that you're stubborn, but maybe a break is a good idea?

He doesn't want to order you around, but he is worried

Maybe if you let him do some of the work he'd feel better

You noticed how his face twisted in concern every time you practiced

It was touching how he cared about you and your pregnancy, even though it wasn't his

Just let him worry, it's not only the cutest, but the most emotional side to him

Fenrir Godspeed:

Hmm. Alright here's the deal

He has no idea what it is

For a while he didn't even notice

But he did straight-up ask you

It didn't occur to him that could be offensive (please go easy on him)

Once you tell him, he's OVER THE MOON

You don't get why he's making such a big deal

But he thinks you're awesome!

He goes on and on about how strong you are and how thought it must have been for you to fall into an entirely new world after already having to adjust differently to your old one

He does act a little less reckless after he finds out

He doesn't want you to get hurt in any way

You took notice of the fact he was always with you

And how when he helped you get down from carriages, he looked at your bump to make sure you weren't straining in any way

You were shocked to see this caring side of him, it was a nice change

He was very dramatic when he told you one day that he would consider this kid his own

You were more than happy, he did seem like a greta dad

He really is so excited for you, you couldn't ask for a more supportive man

Lancelot Kingsley:

He also didn't notice

But that's because he was too busy

But he heard from another soldier that he noticed you were pregnant

Well, that soldier didn't tell him, Edgar did

And that's because Edgar heard him congratulating you

Now he's interested

He understands this must be hard

Having fallen into Cradle so unexpectedly

He asks you personally to take things easy

(You didn't know he knew)

When you tried to shake it off and work harder, he just kept sending soldiers to take you to a chair, or lunch

You figured he had something to do with it, so you went to see him

He was embarrassed when you called him out on knowing, but secretly happy he gets to talk to you about it (he is interested in how you are dealing with everything)

You told him your ex got you pregnant, but when you told your ex you were pregnant, he called you gross and ran away. You said that it broke your heart

He was furious

He wanted this man to pay in painful ways for abandoning you like that

That's when it slipped out

In all his anger he said "Ugh. I would NEVER abandon you like that,"

Lancelot: 😳 MC: 🥺

It was adorable to hear him say just how much he cared, it made you feel just a little braver and a little more loved

Jonah Clemence:

This is a mistake

Why would you tell him

Let him figure it out. Telling him was a death wish

Now he is ordering you around

He was very worried about you using magic, and about you walking alone, and unlike the others, he's not afraid to show that

He will duct tape you to the chair if he has too

He will have Kyle keep an eye on you all day and follow you when you leave the headquarters

Isn't that Edgar's job?

Everything you do becomes dangerous

You both got in a fight with each other when you told him he needed to let up

He must have felt bad because a bouquet of flowers were on your nightstand the next day

He doesn't say he's sorry, but he is saying he loves you in his own unique Jonah way

You were sure that he would call you gross

"Absolutely not!"

He thinks you are outstandingly strong and smart

He respects you deeply, and knowing you want to have kids makes his heart beat faster

He'll never say anything, but he hopes that even though this kid isn't technically his own, he is able to love him like a real father

He silently promises himself before the kid is born that he will never let anything bad happen to you, or them

[hebimoonlightwrites]

Hii :) May I request Kenta Cozmez and Reo with an idol s/o (gn pronouns)

Something about the reader not taking proper care of themselves and working too hard- 🌈

Writer's corner: Hii!! Yes, sure you may, dear!! Hope you like it! If not, please, let me know and ask for something else, so I can write another one for you! Enjoy~

Warnings: nothing in particular :D

⋆𝒦𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒶, 𝒦𝒶𝓃𝒶𝓉𝒶, 𝒩𝒶𝓎𝓊𝓉𝒶 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑅𝑒𝑜⋆ 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒶𝓃 𝒾𝒹𝑜𝓁 𝑔𝓃!𝓈/𝑜

⋆Well.. Kenta with an idol gn!s/o?

⋆Interesting...!

⋆Kenta would be kinda forced to watch a concert along with some of the other prisoners, like Shion and Ryoga.

⋆"What a waste of time...!", he'd say to himself while walking through the corridors of the prison, exactly next to Shion and Ryoga.

⋆He would prefer to keep playing some of his video-games, or even looking for a way to escape the prison..

⋆That concert would have been a waste of time-

⋆"Look at it in this way, Shibaken! We could get more ideas for our new songs! It's going to be funny~"

⋆Shion would be right. And Kenta would shut it up, only to think about those rap battles they all have to face if they want to be free again.

⋆He'd surely fall for s/o after hearing their voice, seeing their dancing moves, looking straight to their sparkling eyes.

⋆Interesting... This is interesting...~

⋆From that moment on, he'd wonder why he's got such an interest in them.

⋆He cannot really admit anything emotional, then why does he have some sort of a need to see them?

⋆Probably because his IQ would suggest him to use them as a way to get out of there...?

⋆Yeah... that's it.

⋆While s/o would fall for that harsh young boy immediately, following their heart, Kenta would just see them as a stupid idol who would indirectly bring him away from that place.

⋆Kenta would be the one to tease them, no doubt, at least at first for being an idol and famous. He'd feel a little bit envious, 'cause they could go wherever they want to, while he must stay there and, if he wanted to, he could only see the places outsides by some security cams!

⋆"How does it feel being idolized by a bunch of idiots?"

⋆After a big argue, though, Kenta would understand his own feelings.

⋆"Am I... really in love...?.."

⋆He'd start to feel jealous seeing s/o surrounded by fans, smiling to them but looking at him with a serious expression on their face.

⋆I feel like he'd love to receive another of those smiles, only for him..

⋆Of course s/o would argue with him after discovering his true intetions. Just imagine how disappointed they could feel..

⋆I mean... They actually loved him and... they were seen just like a toy.. That had been only a lie!

⋆But Kenta would discover that that lie wouldn't have been actually a lie... but the truth.

⋆He'd be in love with s/o.

⋆Kenta.. you have to admit yourself.

⋆That's how he'd start to get along with s/o.

⋆S/o on the other hand would seem surprised to see how Kenta has changed even if slightly.

⋆He'd still have such a sharp tongue, though.

⋆Only in front of the prison guards he'd come back as harsh as he generally is, especially when they come only to say that s/o have to go away.

⋆I don't know why, but I headcanon that Kenta would also help s/o with some special effects at their concerts, but only when they become a couple.

⋆He's such a genius in this kind of things after all!

⋆Maybe s/o also would manage to make him their personal manager even on social medias!

⋆If any ill-intentioned guy tried to hurt their image in any way on social medias, as long as in person, well..

⋆Kenta would make him pay for hurting them.

⋆He'd hate camera flashes, because he's used to stay in the dark of his room-cell, and paparazzi being loud, especially after the media discovers about his relationship with one of the most famous idol, s/o!

⋆I totally see Kenta closing his eyes because of camera flashes while he stands next to s/o, who on the contrary is quite happy and waves to paparazzis and fans.

⋆Also I pretty headcanon him loosing against his s/o during an arm wrestling, 'cause idols usually go to gym and are strong enough to perform and dance while they're singing.

⋆"You may be stronger than me physically, but remember that I've got a very high IQ!!... Why are you laughing?!-... heh... *smirks* 𝓎𝑜𝓊'𝓇𝑒 𝒸𝓊𝓉𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓈𝓂𝒾𝓁𝑒, 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽-.."

⋆What to say?

⋆Kanata would lose his mind if he saw s/o singing and dancing during one of their concerts or exhibitions.

⋆Especially if they breakdanced even slightly.

⋆He'd open his eyes wide and feel his own heart's beating incresing, becoming faster..

⋆Some "butterflies in his stomach" as he'd meet s/o's eyes and see their sweaty forehead.

⋆They would smile and that would be the moment when Kanata would completely fall for them.

⋆Let's be honest, though.

⋆Kanata would hide his feelings, maybe not to accept them.l

⋆He'd hate them at first, quite envy them for being famous and rich..

⋆..for living in a better world than his and his brother's.

⋆While s/o would try hard to befriend him, well...

⋆Kanata would keep the distance.

⋆At least at first.

⋆"I don't understand why you hate me that much, Kanata... I haven't done anything bad to you, nor to your brother.. so... Why?"

⋆I feel like s/o would ask him at least once, worried and sad, because it wouldn't be their intention to hurt him or his brother in any way!

⋆In deep S/o would understand that they feel more for him.

⋆Kanata would gasp and turn to face them while s/o is sadly looking at that Tsundere-rapper.

⋆"Wha-what?!?..."

⋆Yeah, Kanata...

⋆Why are you acting like that?

⋆Well..

⋆Kanata would change his mind only after a while, especially if s/o showed him to be genuine, to be a great person, to have an amazing personality.

⋆If s/o helped someone, showed to be modest even if famous, well..

⋆I think he'd change his mind in my opinion, at least a bit.

⋆Kanata would understand to be in love with them and slowly decide to accept it.

⋆But... why? Is he really in love?..

⋆How..?

⋆I totally see Kanata and s/o dancing together, maybe doing some rehearsals together.

⋆But how would the media react to their relationship?

⋆Well...

⋆That'd be your answer!

⋆Personally I'd be sooo happy and even couldn't wait to hear some of their feats!!

⋆'Cause I feel like they would totally do some collabs!

⋆They would sing/rap together, no doubt!

⋆What about paparazzis and camera flashes?

⋆He would mind them, I'm sure.

⋆He'd try to cover slightly his own eyes, annoyed by all those cameras.

⋆Also I headcanon s/o being the one to work on the instrumental of the collab, while Kanata would be the one to write lyrics!

⋆"S/o? Have you finished with the track?... Let me listen... uhm..... It's... It's good!... Heh.. Cannot wait to hear the final result. 𝐼𝓉'𝓈 𝑔𝑜𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝒶𝓂𝒶𝓏𝒾𝓃𝑔… 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃𝓀𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊, 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽.."

⋆Nayuta would act similarly as his brother would.

⋆At first he would kinda despise s/o for being rich and different.

⋆For living in a total different world.

⋆For being one of those bastards who cannot live their own life properly..

⋆For not knowing what reality actually is.

⋆At first he would ignore them, even if he would also think of them as a great singer and dancer.

⋆Nayuta would be surprised by their talents, I'm sure, while on the other hand s/o would slowly fall for him.

⋆For his cuteness..

⋆For his soft voice..

⋆For his talents as well!

⋆"Hm..? What..? Why are you looking at me like that?..".

⋆He'd say one day, catching s/o who'd be staring at him blushing softly.

⋆I feel like Nayuta would understand, even if slightly, that s/o has a crush on him..

⋆But I think he wouldn't care at all..

⋆At least at first, though.

⋆"Nothing, Nayuta.. Just.. uhm.. Just wanted to check if you were fine!"

⋆Nayuta would just look at s/o without saying anything else.

⋆After that he would come back to work on some lyrics.

⋆Just like Kanata would act, even Nayuta would, in my opinion.

⋆Nayuta would change his mind after a while.

⋆He would do it after seeing that he was wrong.

⋆That s/o was more than how he actually thought.

⋆Especially if he saw them helping poor people..

⋆If he saw them entering that world of his.

⋆Then s/o wouldn't appear as different as they would have seemed to Nayuta.

⋆S/o would feel him nearer than how he'd have been before.

⋆I totally can see them both working on some costumes they would wear during some concerts.

⋆"I think you should wear something white.. hm? Well.. 'cause it could highlight you eyes and hair more, s/o.."

⋆Of course Nayuta would accept his own feelings for s/o after some time, not immediately.

⋆But once he would do it, then they both would be a great couple, no doubt.

⋆Nayuta and s/o would manage to set the concert on fire with their talented voices and rhymes!

⋆Even with their costumes and phantometals!

⋆I don't know why, but I feel like each of the illusions created by their phantometals would connect, creating some amazing perfomance for the audience, who'd be surprised.

⋆Contrary to his brother, Nayuta wouldn't mind camera flashes and paparazzis in my opinion.

⋆I feel like he'd be such a model himself, posing when paparazzis are taking pictures of him with his s/o.

⋆"Hm?.. What's wrong, babe?... Yeah.. I think we should get away from these flashes too.. 𝐼 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝑜 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒶𝓃 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒶𝒸𝒽𝑒, 𝒶𝒻𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒶𝓁𝓁.."

⋆Reo would love to have an idol s/o!

⋆He would totally be the one to take the first step after meeting them at a mall, while they're surrounded by so many fans.

⋆Reo is always so cheerful and happy.

⋆It's not hard to imagine him with someone who's famous and an idol themselves.

⋆Of course I feel like he would do some collabs with them.

⋆As well as hanging out and, surely, trying to avoid paparazzis and fans, who could ruin their dates!

⋆Wait..

⋆Dates?!

⋆S/o wouldn't know that those would be dates!!

⋆I feel like Reo would try hard to spend some time with them, maybe having just a slight crush on them at first, perhaps only to know them more.

⋆After a while he'd tell s/o about his feelings for them but...

⋆I don't know..

⋆Maybe it's because of his childish behaviour,

⋆But I feel like he'd in a strange way.

⋆Like suddenly, while they are both sitting on a swing at the park, swinging softly and chuckling as kids would do.

⋆"You know what, s/o? I like you.. I think I like you more than how I could have thought at first!!!~"

⋆Also, please..

⋆Change my mind if you want to..

⋆But why am I imagining him on vacation with s/o?

⋆Like they both on a cruise, into a swimming pool with some coca-colas or other kind of sodas in their hands?

⋆I'm not crazy, I promise..

⋆But I cannot deny it to myself.

⋆I have just headcanoned (?) them both being on vacation like two rich bitch£s!

⋆(Okay.. Maybe I should stop drinking coffee before working, if these are the results!..-)

⋆But yet.. it'd be funny and fun too!

⋆Also Akan Yatsura has already made a collab with a great singer named Kumi Koda, so why shouldn't we headcanon about our dear gn!s/o doing a collab with them?

⋆I'd listen to their song.

⋆Besides it's said that Reo is such a joyful person on stage, so imagine him dancing and jumping around with s/o, both keeping singing some new songs they made.

⋆Ship. Ship. Ship-

⋆Reo, on the other hand, does not strike as a guy who hates having everyones' attention.

⋆On the contrary he loves being the subject of others' attention.

⋆So he wouldn't mind being in front of thousand of paparazzis and camera flashes.

⋆He'd just hold childishly his s/o's arm and wave at those people, smiling brightly.

⋆So basically he'd be the best partner for an idol s/o.

⋆"Hm? You seem anxious for the concert, s/o.. Hehe! Do not be! Here.. Grab my hand, babe! 𝐿𝑒𝓉'𝓈 𝑔𝑜 𝓉𝑜 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝑔𝑒, 𝓉𝑜𝑔𝑒𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇!"

©hebimoonlightwrites_tumblr Please, do not copy my contents nor repost it without my permission.

[reigenhusband]

Psychic Wedding Time!

Art by @/cowboyologist

After months of holding back, we finally tied the ole knot! Me and the conman are officially hitched today September 10, 2021!

This silly little blonde anime man means an awful lot to me and its really more than I can say. These months with him have been a great help.

When I went through some of the roughest things I've ever gone through, I had him to think about for comfort. He is a little part in what keeps me going and I wish I could thank him for everything. He sparks a lot of joy so I think I'm gonna keep him!

I've never been happier and I'm so lucky to call him husband! He's had such a positive impact and I love him so, so much.

Special thank you to my friends and of course our son Mob who carried the rings!

Under the cut is a little fic about getting ready for the wedding. Thanks everyone for your support!

Reigen squinted at his reflection, dark eyes hauntingly focused on a strand of hair that didn't take to the product he put in it. A grunt of dismay rumbled low in his throat.

"Um…Reigen?" 

"Just a second, Serizawa. Almost got it."

The taller man's voice wavered but he managed to hold fast and keep his confidence. Reigen could almost hear his hands wringing. 

"Er...Well. Its just...you've been staring at yourself for a little over 20 minutes now and you haven't moved and…"

Reigen sucked his teeth and pressed his palm firmly to the side of his head. Damned strand of hair! Slick like the rest of it! Don't you know know day it is?!

"What I mean is..! Are you alright?" Serizawa finally asked, his voice heavy with concern. "Since it's your wedding and all I figured you'd be nervous but you seem really on edge. Is something bothering you?" 

The blonde twitched.

 "W...what are you talking about? Of course not! I'm calm and-" He stopped abruptly and slammed his hands flat on either side of the mirror, his eyes wide and bloodshot upon inspection of his suit. A fleck of black thread pervaded his white vest and he looked around frantically for the lint roller. "You thought you could hide but you can't best Reigen Arataka." He muttered as he furiously went over his all but pristine wedding attire. 

His best man scratched his own cheek nervously and looked on with clear uncertainty. "If you're sure." 

Once he was satisfied after a thorough inspection and having Serizawa scrutinize the back, he dropped into a chair. Nearby was a table decorated in what was probably a thousand congratulatory flowers from clients. He exhaled and stared a hole into the arrangement of colors. His heart was pounding. His brow, coupled with his hands, were visibly slick with chilled sweat. His stomach was full of stones. 

He met his own gaze in the mirror again. He looked well kept and yet...disheveled at the same time. Come to think of it, his face was flushed the shade of his usual pink tie. The last 3 days without sleep also hollowed out dark circles under his eyes. His shirt collar began to feel more and more constricting as time went on no matter how much he tugged on it. 

Maybe he really was scared. 

He didn't doubt that he loved Mitty. In fact, he wanted to be with him more than anyone. A case of cold feet wouldn't change that. It was himself he was wrestling with here. 

Spirits, monsters, and deadly espers. He'd faced them all and came out on top. But they were nothing compared to these looming expectations to be a person to rely on. This wasn't something he could bullshit his way through. This was marriage. Mitty was going to see the warted underbelly of when he was Reigen the man instead of Reigen the psychic. His fiancé was going to experience sides of him he only revealed when he was alone. Would he still like him even then?

Reigen was good at a lot of things but this had to be the one that counted most. Could he really be a good partner forever? 

Was he really going to cut it as a husband? 

"Hey, Serizawa?" Reigen asked, not looking at him. 

The man's shoulders lurched at his name suddenly being called. He straightened his back. "Oh! Yes sir?"

"Do you think we'll be good together?" 

Silence sat heavily for a moment. Every second felt longer than the last. 

His friend seemed taken aback by the question but nonetheless looked at the ceiling as though collecting the right words to answer. "Well…"

Another moment passed and Reigen waited with his hands clasped and breath baited. 

"I've never been with anyone so I can't say for certain what a good relationship is but," A compassionate smile spread across the esper's face before he continued, visibly more sure of his words. "I think you and Mr. Mitty understand each other. You always seem to know what the other is thinking. You motivate each other to be better and you seem happy when you're together. And...and you trust each other too. And I think that's whats important." 

Reigen looked at the velveted floor. "Then…"  

"You've become more honest by being with him and he talks like you're really important to him. So please...get married if it makes you both happy! I think you can really be something!" His friend was beaming with 

what Reigen could only say was genuine assurance. 

"I really believe you'll take care of each other." 

His co-worker actually really was resourceful. Maybe someday he ought to pay him more. The uncomfortable feelings waned slightly and his shoulders slowly slacked. Mitty was waiting for him so now wasn't the time to lose it. 

After a few seconds of letting his feelings iron themselves out, he stood and smoothed his hands over his suit jacket. "Well alright then. If thats what you think then I guess there's no backing out of this one." 

Serizawa pressed his hands together in delight. "YES! I've got your back, Reigen!" 

The door into the hallway opened and a set of black eyes peered into the room. "Master, It's starting. Are you coming?" 

The jarring announcement had him scrambling to fix the piece of hair he'd been fussing with. 

"OF COURSE." He jabbed his thumb into his own chest to feign total confidence. "Right behind you, Mob!" 

He held his breath. Alright, let's do this. 

Mitty POV

Teal eyes darted around the room carefully. 

"Hey...Dimple? You there?"

The whizzing of the spirit materializing buzzed next to his ear. 

"Yeah whaddya want? You're on soon, aren't you?" 

Mitty jabbed his right hook into the air where the voice was coming from. "AGH WHAT THE HELL?"

A swift flash of green dodged his reach. 

"HEY, why are you hitting me?! You asked for ME, remember?" The ghost clucked his tongue in disapproval and floated a few inches away for safety. 

"WELL MATERIALIZE WHERE I CAN SEE YOU, YOU BIG BOOGER! I'm on edge!" 

"On edge? What for? You're the one who wanted this, right?"

"W..well….yeah, sorry." He looked at his clenched fist and opened it. "...sorry." He said again more thoughtfully this time. 

Dimple raised a spectral eyebrow. "Whats wrong? Having second thoughts? I mean it's Reigen so who can blame ya."

Mitty scowled while straightening his tie in the mirror. "Hey! REIGEN'S…." His voice softened closer to a whisper. "A pretty good guy. Get off my case. Aren't you supposed to be my support? You're being kinda harsh!" 

"Well kid, something is obviously on your mind so let's hear it. Wedding starts soon right? Yeesh. Once you do all this he's your problem forever." 

"I'm not worried about him!! I'm more worried about...me."

"About you? What're you talkin' about?! You're too good for him!"

"Thanks for the flattery. You still can't have my body though."

"Well I didn't want it anyways, ya bastard. You're weak compared to Shigeo. I'm just being honest here!" 

Silence.

"So? Out with it, What did you want anyways? You're talking nonsense here!" 

Mitty wrinkled his nose in discomfort.  "I just needed to ask something. But you can't run your mouth off like you always do, you old gossip. You're like a knitting circle."

"TCH. like I'd blabber your business to someone. It's all so boring."

"Yeah, yeah just listen, alright?!"

Another few seconds passed. "So? Say it. We don't have all day, you know."

He was looking at his hands again like he was somewhere far off. "Well. D...D'you think I'll be good at this?" 

"Good at what, exactly?" 

"Being married." 

Dimple's form rippled with thought. "You're seriously worried about that?"

Mitty was going to make a sharp remark but his head dropped and his face buried into his knuckles. "Yeah."

Dimple deflated slightly in exasperated defeat. Humans could be so ignorant. 

"Listen. That fraud never shuts up about you. You think you're not good enough? You should hear him talk. It's annoying how you both don't realize things."

"Realize things?"

He sighed and shrugged his tiny arms. "I hear everything whether you like it or not. You two idiots never stop talking and moaning about the other is too good for the other. It's getting old, really." 

"HUH? He says that? No way! But he's always beaten me at everything! I always thought he was way out of my league." 

 "Kinda the opposite actually but...sure. What I'm saying is…! You're both seeing the best parts of each other. Keep doing that and it'll be smooth sailing."

"Yeah but...what if he stops seeing the best in me?'

"You planning on making things hard?" 

"Not really. I just know I can be difficult to deal with." 

"So is he. You really think you got this far because Reigen's all roses and sunshine? 'Course not. You've seen all the stuff he does and you still like him, right?" 

He certainly was flawed, that was for sure. Mitty spent most of Reigen's antics with his eyes rolled up in his head but that didn't mean he wasn't enjoying the moment either. 

"Right."

"Then it's the same for him. Sure it won't always be fun but that phoney won't give up on you just because you're annoying. He's way too persistent. It kind of ticks me off." 

I'm annoying???  That stung but he shook it off.

Reigen was going to have to deal with him for the rest of his life once they said the right words. But if Dimple was right...would it be so bad to annoy each other for the rest of their lives if the other was willing to put up with it? 

Reigen seemed okay with it so far. Mitty would just have to listen to him make a fuss about his coffee table clutter until he died. But really, he wouldn't have that any other way. His voice was kind of cute when he hit that inhuman octave he had when he was in disbelief. 

The door from the hall swung open and a blond clad in what was perhaps the most blinding and loud suit he had ever seen poked his head in. 

"Oh, You're still in here? It's bad luck to be late on your wedding day! Master Reigen is waiting. " He cocked his head to the side. "Or did you need some help with your suit? Its looking a little plain." 

Hanazawa. This kid would try to accessorize his suit in the worst way possible. He put up his hands to wave him off. 

"N-nah, kiddo that's alright. I'll be right there."

Hanazawa, after a few more attempts to get Mitty to let him help retreated back into the hallway. When it was quiet again he eyed Dimple. He was abrasive and unpleasant. He always had a motive for everything and rarely had something nice to say. 

But he came through when it mattered. 

"Hey Dimple?" 

"Yeah? What is it?" 

"Thanks." 

Dimple wouldn't meet his eyes and levitated towards the hall. He didn't want to acknowledge he was helping, he supposed. It was in character for that tsundere blob.

"You ought to get out of here now if you wanna make it on time." 

He stood and dusted himself off. 

"Welp. Here goes everything."

[majimasleftasscheek]

Hey idk if you're doing these rn, and I'm sorry if you aren't, but i was wondering: do you have any head canons for trans!kiryu? If that's even one of your head canons.

no worries, I'll take headcanon requests anytime! I don't particularly have trans hcs for characters since it's not an experience I personally relate to/have thorough knowledge about other than my trans friendos but I don't mind giving it a try!

I think he's super trans positive obvs but for the longest time he wasn't necessarily that kind to himself. He's often the bearer of burdens and feels the need for self punishment so I feel like he would struggle with such a concept that he can change himself and feel better about it. A man who struggles to self practice what he preaches in a sense, self doubt and all that

he's also prolly super ignorant of things. Like, doesn't know the meaning of terms or the nuances of it all. Not necessarily a bad thing of course, just when he's talking to other people about it he'll sound confused or get things wrong with the best intentions of course. He was raised very simply and I highly doubt Kazama was a fountain of knowledge for him. I would think he'd support Kiryu cuz that's his fav boy but outside of that he's like aight do whatever you gotta do kiddo, anyway keep beating up people with stop signs

Kiryu leans heavily into masculine behaviors and idealisms since his whole worldview has been brought up by these tough, manly yakuza dudes that he at one point idolized and that's just how he thinks men should be. So he becomes overly stoic, flatly emotional and strong. Values fights and muscles and manly shit like gut punching. Maybe it takes him a long time to realize things aren't so black and white but it makes it hard for him to open up and express himself. He's terrified of people finding out in such a hypermasculine community so he's easy to clam up and treat things with his fists over conversation unless proven otherwise

Nishiki would totally be the supportive best bro, helping him with confidence and day to day living n all that. Lil stuff that makes Kiryu feel normalized and cozy. Kiryu can be one for exaggeration but he likes to take things slow and feel like he's just another person. Nishiki could definitely keep things light hearted

because I can't NOT mention Majima in 99% of what I do, he would be super supportive of Kiryu. He treats everything so casually that Kiryu is actually taken off guard many times, not used to someone who doesn't really give a damn about how someone lives their life. It's comforting to know someone as wack ass as Majima would be outright accepting and very likely violently protective 

Haruka! I think at some point he'd have to explain everything to her - after like, really educating himself without fumbling over words or terminology and ends up doing that anyway but she gets the gist. Frankly she prolly understands more than he does and she helps him out, being really forthcoming and accepting. He's her dad in the end and that makes him happy. This also makes him pretty familiar with feminine issues n things so that’s a unique perspective for her growing up

I think he’d be really proud of that facial hair he has. He keeps it nice n groomed and was quite happy when it first came in. Same goes for his body. He likes to keep toned in that masculine way he wants to be. He probably was a lil unsure about things when he first started transitioning but Nishiki could have been there to help out and really encourage him

I hope this was good! I can't speak for the trans experience personally so I had a lil help from some of my pals. I like to talk about feelings and acceptance which really resonates with me so I hope I got that across