#damnit you have so many names

[necrotic-nephilim]

for the ask game (1)

au where bruce is attracted to his robins and batgirls. he tries not to think about it or act on it, but it's getting more difficult with every new member of his team he acquires. does anyone know? do the robins and batgirls notice his weird behavior? what do they do about it? do they ever find out the truth? who would think it's terrible and who would find it strangely hot/comforting/nice? does bruce ever act on his feelings?

for the ask game!

oh my GOD do i have thoughts for AUs like this, i love this shit so dearly, dirtybadwrong Bruce who's trying to keep a lid on it my beloved.

i think the fun of this AU is if characters would notice Bruce lusting for themselves vs would they notice Bruce lusting for a different Robin/Batgirl. like does Dick pick up on it when it's just him and Bruce? no, because it's just. him and Bruce. he and Bruce are weird and complicated and hold endless bounds of nuance. that's just How Bruce Is, and Dick is the "test run", in a sense. he knows Bruce is new to this whole sidekick/family thing and is giving Bruce grace for being rough around the edges. but when Bruce starts looking at Jason or Tim or Cass that way, that's when Dick starts to notice. it's never enough of a suspicion he feels justified to bring it up, but the thought lingers. he's hyperaware and grows less and less comfortable with leaving them alone with Bruce. it's a weird game of chicken, Dick and Bruce staring each other down when Bruce's touch lingers too long. each waiting for the other to say something first. if Bruce ever broke and actually acted on his feelings, Dick would be eaten alive by the guilt of knowing something was up, but never saying something until it was too late.

obviously, Cass would know. there's no world where Cass *doesn't* know, the nature of who and what she is would immediately clock it. but the issue is, Cass doesn't have a good framework of what family looks like. she doesn't really understand familial vs romantic love bc she has no firsthand experience of what a parent's love should even look like. so she never calls it out. she just watches. i'm a fan of Cass believing this is normal and believing she too can express and act on attraction that's vaguely incestuous. maybe it's with Babs, maybe it's with Dick or Tim or Bruce himself. but she recognizes this as Normal and Accepted within the Batfamily, so it severely fucks up her understanding of familial love and i just. man it's my favorite thing about Cass in Batcest honestly, is how you can play with her lack of experience with love, boundaries, and sexuality.

Tim is the fun one for me. because my favorite flavor of BruTim is when Tim knows, as he agrees to be Robin, that there's a non-zero chance that Bruce is going to be Weird and agrees anyway because he's decided it's an acceptable risk. so Tim knows from the get-go because he's expecting it. if Bruce acts on his attraction, i think it's either with Tim or Cass first, because they're the most likely to confront him about it in a way that isn't entirely negative. Tim has accepted it's a possibility and Cass just seeks being loved and touched so. it leads to the first time someone's ever confronted Bruce about it. and the thing is, Bruce really doesn't like confrontation about his flaws. the first time Tim tries to imply he's okay with it, Bruce would lash out at the idea, tell Tim how inappropriate that is and benches Tim for a week. it'd probably take a united front from Cass and Tim to get Bruce to even *admit* to the attraction. still Bruce wouldn't allow it to happen and he brushes them off until finally, the dam breaks. it's fun if there's a cause like sex pollen, but i think it's *more* fun if it's just. a random fucking Tuesday and finally Bruce is at his limit. he has no real reason, there's nothing particularly different about that day's routine. he just sees Tim or Cass striping armor and sighs and gives in.

i don't think Steph, Jason, or Babs would notice until anything substantial happened. not because they're not wicked smart, but just because none of them were looking for it. Jason put Bruce on a pedestal when he was alive, and when he came back from the dead he wasn't close enough to be noticing Bruce's interpersonal dynamics outside of his narrow scope. Steph has no real framework for what healthy fatherhood looks like, so if Bruce's touches linger, if he stares too long, she just shrugs and assumes it's how it is. and Babs was just never quite close enough to Bruce to notice. if and when she notices, is when actual sexual things start to happen between Cass and Bruce. because Cass would see no reason to hide it. Babs would be pissed, but it'd be tricky to navigate. Cass would be an adult, even if she's only 18/19, so technically, she's old enough to be consenting. if nothing else, Bruce is a careful man. even when he breaks and gives in to his desires, he covers his tracks well. he makes sure he has enthusiastic consent and there's no legal recourse that could be taken. age of consent and all that. there's not much Babs can *do* other than try to tell Cass (and/or Tim) that this isn't normal or okay. not that it gets her anywhere, but god would she try.

by the time Duke comes along (if we venture out of the pre-Flashpoint era) i think it's a sort of. open secret, in the Batfamily. talked about in nothing but hushed whispers and knowing glances. at some point, they've all had sex with Bruce, caving all for different reasons. some more than others. Tim sees it as a duty, Cass sees it as a way of seeking comfort, Steph sees it as getting Bruce's approval for once, etc. it's never forced on them, but eventually, they all come to Bruce sooner or later. and that's the fun irony of it, i think. they try to convince the others not to, but would go to Bruce on their own well. because complicated reasons they can't put into words. sometimes, Bruce is just a messy man who doesn't realize how prized his Attention to for the rest of the Batfamily. that weird duality of not liking him, but also wanting desperately for him to like you. all of them have dealt with it, at some point. so for Duke, it takes a while for him to understand this... whole dynamic. it's Cass who tries to explain it to him, and he's a little horrified, a lot confused. especially when Bruce starts staring at him a little too long as well. i think he'd only want to watch first but well. they all cave eventually.

also fun bonus if we venture into the Dark Knight Returns universe for my bestest girl Carrie Kelley: there's such a like, "i'm fucking around and i'm finding out" vibe to Carrie. like Tim, she's very proactive in just. deciding she's going to be Robin and she's ready for whatever that entails. (IMO canon Carrie is closer to fanon Tim than canon Tim is but *that* deserves its own post-) like she takes one look at the old man that is Batman and goes yup. he's never fucking getting rid of me now. if Bruce started having weird feelings about her, i think she'd have *fun* with it. she's decided she's in it for the long haul and for whatever being Robin means so. she's almost teasing about it, seeing how hard she can push before Bruce snaps. since it's an older, gruffer Bruce, i think he'd express open annoyance at it first, almost a sort of banter about how Carrie behave. but of course he caves and Carrie leans into it, because there's a fun in having all of Bruce's attention to herself. in the main timeline, Bruce is pretty split with so many Robins and Batgirls, but during their era, it's *just* her and him and she's very proud she's got him all to herself.

[suuuupernovaaa]

what if

summary: joel lives and is HAPPY damnit

warnings: just watched ep2 (&3)and im so unbelievably sad and mad so im making a happy ending to cope - smut, 18+, FMC in her 30s, dirty joel, a hot gf who GETS THERE IN TIME

MASTERLIST

Hand on the doorknob, Ellie looks back to you, and you shake your head. Not yet, you want to tell her. Just listen. Just be quiet and assess what’s happening in the room.

You hear a shout inside, and you know it’s him. You know his voice as well as you know your own.

There’s multiple other voices, male and female, impossible to say how many are in there. Joel shouts again, and your body tenses up, your stomach churning.

While she turns the door knob, you press your back against the door, out of sight.

It’s a mess of action once she opens the door. Her gun fires, but it takes only moments before two men are on her, pinning her to the floor, though she does get a good swipe with her knife at one before she goes down.

You peer around the corner, just for a whisper, to take in the scene. Joel, with a bloody knee. A girl before him, hair braided, holding a golf club.

Two men holding Ellie down. At least two other women in the room, and Dina, on the floor. You don’t know from the doorway if she’s breathing or not.

They don’t know you’re there. They’re too stupid to have checked. So, you enter.

You fire a shot, straight through the neck of one of the men holding Ellie down, and the other falls away.

She’s up then, and fast, her gun back in her hand, or maybe it’s someone else’s gun. There’s screaming, so much screaming, but you can’t hear it. You can’t hear anything besides Joel yelling your names. His woman. His daughter.

Ellie’s shot two more, they’re on the floor, both men.

Two women in the room - one bald and one with curly hair - back away, their arms up, their weapons on the floor, Ellie aimed at them.

That leaves the golfer. You turn to her, weapon raised, and she steps closer to Joel.

“Not another fucking step,” you whisper, finger on the trigger. “I will blow your head off.”

She has the nerve to look angry instead of scared, but she’s smart enough to drop the golf club. You kick it away, never taking your eyes off her.

“Who are you? What the fuck are you doing?”

Her lips are pursed, her eyes red with tears and rage. She looks so normal, someone you wouldn’t recognize or remember.

“Joel?” you ask.

“I’m okay. I… killed her dad.”

“Salt Lake?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he replies.

You fire. One bullet, to her heart. She drops down, and you step over her to Joel.

TWO MONTHS LATER

The ground is thawed out enough for burials to take place now. They’re burying dozens of dead. The wall is secured again, but people stare at it warily now.

They’ve seen it come down. They wonder if it will happen again.

You wake up in the middle of the night, when the moon is still high, with a scream in your throat and a sheen of sweat covering your body.

“Baby, baby,” Joel is whispering next to you. You sit up, heart pounding. Joel reaches to his side of the bed for the water he keeps on his night stand, and hands it to you. You take a long drink, blinking the nightmare away.

“I’m here. I’m alive,” he reminds you.

The what if disturbs you sometimes. What if you and Ellie had been 5 minutes later. What if you had not come at all. What if, what if, what if Joel was dead.

He takes the empty water glass from your hands, and you’re on him when he turns back to you, kissing him with all the desperation you feel whenever you think of those what if’s.

What if the best thing you’d ever had was taken from you? What if Ellie’s dad had died before they could reconcile? What if, what if, what if.

“I’m right here, baby, I’m okay,” Joel mutters against your lips, and you’re pushing him down onto his back, climbing on top of him.

“I need to feel you, Joel,” you say desperately. “I need to feel that you’re here.”

His hands run up your back, under your tank top, his calloused hands on your hot skin, and you grind into him, making him moan.

“Whatever you need, sweetheart,” he says, and you reach down for him. He’s hard, always so hard for you, and you can feel you’re dripping wet, desperate to be filled by him.

It takes no time to remove your clothes, and you run your wet cunt up and down his hard length.

“God, Joel,” you moan, kissing his neck as he squeezes your ass.

“I’m here, baby,” he breathes, and slides into you.

It feels so full, so real, so fucking good. You place your hands on his chest, and look down at him as you begin to move, up and down. He never closes his eyes, always stares at you, always watches you when you ride him like this.

His fingers find your clit, moving over it expertly, and you cry out.

“Take what you need, baby,” he says, his voice dripping with need. “Take whatever you need.”

You just need him, to be sure he’s real and here with you. To feel him pulsing inside you, to bring you coffee in the morning, to be grumpy with you when he’s sore or tired. You just need Joel.

He brings you to an orgasm that makes you see stars, and finds his own release just seconds after, and you collapse on his chest.

He holds you then, tracing patterns on your bare back, both of you breathing so heavily with your eyes closed.

The what ifs always disappear in these moments when you are so connected to Joel. He’s here. He’s real. He’s not leaving you.

You won’t let anyone take him.

[alyakthedorklord]

Batman the Playboy

Justice League, not quite early days but before proper identity reveals, though everyone knows Batman knows theirs, bc he has Opinions™ and Constructive Criticisms™ on their secret-keeping.

The issue is brought up on random occasions. The most notable incident- the Justice League, including Batman, being Drunk for Bonding, (or hit with some kind of drug while out saving the world) and Batman, in a fit of paranoid good intentions because he CARES about these idiots, damnit, why must they be so careless, starts insulting them.

Batman, leaning heavily on the table: “GL, you’re a mess, I don’t even know where to start with you. And Arrow! Your goatee is so distinctive, it’s a wonder no one has called you out on it-“

Green Arrow, also drunk: “Alright, there’s no need to insult my awesome facial hair-”

Batman, in despair: “It’s so ugly.”

Green Arrow: (offended noises)

Green Lantern: “Okay, the only reason you know our secret identities is because you’re a rude nosy bastard who needs to know everything about us like a creepy stalker who needs an ego boost! We’re not stupid, Spooky, we’re just polite. We could figure you out easily if we wanted to. Superman can see right through your mask!”

Usually, Batman would have a good response to that. Something smart and reasonable like “villains won’t care for your privacy, I’m testing you,” or something cutting like “I don’t care enough about you to go digging, I set your secret identity as a training exercise for Robin.”

However, Batman is Drunk, because for some reason imbibing drugs that dampen higher brain function is socially acceptable and often, for some reason, expected, because it’s “team bonding” and “come on just loosen up a bit.” (Also for him, drunk=Brucie)

So what Batman ends up saying is: “I could kiss you full on the lips in my secret identity and you wouldn’t know a thing.”

Superman, plucking the glass from Batman’s hand: “Aaaand that is enough alcohol for you!”

Batman nods. Thank God. He wants to go home and sleep. But first: “Superman, yours is so stupid it’s almost impressive-”

———

Of course, Green Lantern has smelled a challenge. And Green Lantern must annoy Batman. It’s his true superpower. So, the next time they meet (sober) he brings up the issue again.

GL: “So about what you said at the party… the part where you could kiss us full on the lips without us knowing. You still confident in that without liquid courage, Spooky? Bet you your real name you can’t do it.”

Batman, regretting the fact that alcohol has ever passed his lips: “I could do it, but I will not.”

Flash, curious: “Why’s that?”

Batman: “Informed Consent. I will not risk making any of you feel violated, or manipulated, for the sake of a stupid bet and my ego.”

GA, still offended by the goatee comment, trying to back Batman into a corner: “So if we give consent, we’re fair game? Try me, Batman. Even you can’t pull this off. Anyone else game?”

Some of the Justice League laughs, raising their hands.

Flash: “Come get me, hot stuff! I’ll call you out!”

Wonder Woman: “It could be amusing.”

Martian Manhunter: “I would be far too difficult a target.”

Green Arrow: “Not just you. C’mon, Spooky, flirting well enough to get a kiss from me? I’m a classy lady.”

Black Canary: “D-class, maybe.”

Superman, wants a kiss in on the fun: 🙋🏻‍♂️

“So that’s it then!” Green Lantern says smugly. “Batman, if you can kiss… how many people raised their hands? Ah yes- HALF THE JUSTICE LEAGUE, without anyone realizing it’s you, then you win.”

Batman scoffs and walks out, leaving the Justice League in stitches at their joke. Because- Batman? Being good enough at flirting to land a kiss on half the league, without it being forced or awkward, without them recognizing his body language, his voice, his build? How ridiculous!

The Batman is Autistic. The Batman does not understand jokes, especially not ones that are half truths. The Batman has consent, and something to prove.

And Bruce Wayne, billionaire, playboy, and sexy DILF, has targets.

(Please tell me how you think he gets each League member.)

Edit: there have been a bunch of awesome additions in the notes! My own take here.

[faggotbeloved]

Failed Experiments | Scientist!Albert Wesker x M!Reader ~2-3k

Cw: porn with plot, obsessive wesker, sex pollen, dubcon (see sex pollen PLUS reader is threatened w a gun but is into it regardless), sub/brat wesker?, wesker is in love with reader, reader is not in love with wesker, nsfw, gun play if you squint, rushed prep, anal fingering, anal sex, belly bulge, creampie that reader didn't particularly want to give, aftercare included, angst at the end (?)

This work contains smut and is 18+. AN at the end.

└───────────────────────┘

Day after day, your boss has been cagier and cagier. You'd run him his coffee (a Ph.D required for the application, and you still have to remember how he likes his coffee?), get an assignment, then get shooed out of his lab to work while leaving him alone. He started intercepting you before you could enter his lab, so you hadn't even seen inside it for a week now. When you remembered you'd forgotten the spare key to your locker in there last month, you decided to go in, grab it, and get out. Damn you for losing all your keys.

You're not sure why you thought it would be so easy.

Wesker was hunched over at his desk, piles of paper almost forming a wall beside him, muttering something about testing. You would have told him of your presence, but he hated being interrupted and you didn't want to face his wrath for crashing his train of thought. When you got to the counter where you distinctly recall putting the key, you found it missing. Suddenly, Wesker growled your name more clearly than his previous string of sentences and you spun around to face him, but you were surprised to see that his back was still turned and his muttering was continuing.

"No, damnit, oxytocin, not norepinephrine. You think I just want a quick fuck?" You heard Wesker hiss as he typed angrily on his keyboard. "Haven't talked to him in nine days, and all I've got to show for it is a glorified aphrodisiac. Need more subjects."

Since when had Wesker meddled with hormones? Virology was his strong suit, but endocrinology? You were more used to mutative viruses than SSRIs when working with Wesker. You crept closer behind him and found the key hanging on his lanyard, which was most certainly not a normal place for your locker's key to be. However, you decided against any form of stealing it, since the noise would alert Wesker of your presence and you didn't want to deal with that. As you made your way to the door, a loud chirp came from your belt, meaning you were being paged by Wesker.

Wesker flinched at the sound, spinning around in his chair to see you. He looked unusual; his sunglasses were replaced with blue-light glasses, his hair gel had weakened from his constant running his fingers through his hair and a few strands fell on his face, and his eyes were as intense as usual but held a hint of instability.

"You're not supposed to be in here unless I ask you to," Wesker snarled, standing up and striding to you with powerful steps. "What are you doing?" He asked as he grabbed the collar of your lab coat. He seemed to remember he was wearing glasses, and tore them off to appear more intimidating.

"Alright—Doctor Wesker, I was just trying to find the key to my locker I left in here," you replied, prying his hand off. Wesker had lost his cool with you many a time, and it gets less scary every time he chickens out on killing or firing you. "Have you seen it?"

"Why would I care about a locker key? I'm working on things of actual importance," Wesker deflected, but you knew damn well he knew where the key was.

You strolled away from him and approached his desk. "What were you paging me for? More rats?" You questioned as you observed the work on his computer.

"Get away from that!" Wesker snapped, grabbing your wrist and tossing you from his desk. "Yes. Find me more subjects, I need to tweak this formula," he huffed after a moment.

"We don't have any more Norwegian browns. You've been using them all," you retorted. "Looks like the rats you have there are fucking. Wait three or so weeks, you'll get a whole bunch of them."

You were used to his coldness since you'd worked closely with him for ages, but the tenseness in your boss's back was mildly alarming. Maybe he would actually kill you this time, you joked to yourself. He seemed on edge by your mention of his experiments, but curiosity really was eating away at you. "So what's your formula aiming to do? I'm not bad at endocrinology, and this seems harmless enough so I'm happy to participate."

"How would you know it has to do with hormones?" Wesker glared as he sat back down in his chair. "Separate those rats. Just wait for the gas to—" Wesker sat straight up in alarm as you just opened the door, exposing yourself to lungfuls of his yet-imperfect serum. "Are you incapable of listening to directions?" He shouted, storming over to close the tank before anything too bad happened. Unfortunately for you, a sickly sweet smell invaded your nose while Wesker, who'd inhaled accidentally, tasted it in his mouth.

──────────────────────

You felt your brain grow fuzzy and barely remembered to put the rats away before Wesker uttered a weak "fuck" and opened the tank yet again. "This," he murmured between breaths, "this is my gift to you. More to me. It's not finished—fuck," he wheezed, staggering away. Did it affect him more than you? "I used my DNA as a placeholder until I could get yours. It's targeting me."

Wesker slumped down into his chair, shucking off his lab coat as a sheen of sweat broke out across his face. He panted and looked at the ceiling pathetically, his throat bobbing as he tried to swallow the saliva that had come up at the sight of you. "Come here. Come here, damnit!"

Your head in a trance, you hurried to his side and he enveloped you in a hug. "Don't you dare mention this after we're done," he hissed before burying his nose into your armpit and inhaling as deeply as he could. A keening whimper left his throat as your scent was all he could smell and taste and he moved his nose to your neck to smell there but then returned to your armpit where your musk was more potent.

"Wesker, what—fuck, what is that we breathed in?" You asked, snaking your fingers in his hair and enjoying the whine that escaped him as you tugged like he'd dreamed you would.

Wesker pressed a feverish kiss to your shoulder, then the crook of your neck, then your neck, throat, and repeated on the other side. "It's for you. You need to feel how I feel, to understand... it's not ready, but you already were exposed, darling, we can't waste it," he rambled. "It was supposed to be simple. Something to boost dopamine and serotonin and oxytocin when we were working together. Stimulate your brain, make it think you loved me and soon you really would."

"Wesker—" you tried to say, but he was too busy talking about his experiments to listen. "Wesker—" you tried again, but he still couldn't process it. It wasn't until a sharp pull on his hair that he looked back up at you, his pupils blown wide and nearly overtaking his debauched orange irises. "Wesker. Shut up and let me fuck you."

Wesker stopped dead in his tracks, his lip trembling as he processed your words. Did you love him? No. But that serum, whatever it was, made you unbelievably horny and Wesker was undoubtedly a good-looking guy. He'd take it for now, you were sure, but you'd have to deal with his feelings for you sooner or later. You chose later.

──────────────────────

Why did Wesker have lube in his desk? You weren't sure. But when he held a gun to your head demanding you finger him right there on the paperwork, with his legs over your shoulders and his tight hole right in plain sight, you couldn't resist. "Just two fingers. I want it to burn," Wesker groaned as he leaned back against the surface of the desk. His cock was an angry, twitching red and sticky with a mess of precum. He was sinfully pretty, but you resolved not to touch his dick until you were inside him, no matter how much that serum made you want to swallow him whole.

As your first finger swirled his entrance he choked out a gasp and his hips jutted forward. "Hurry!" He whined angrily as you took your sweet time in opening him up. His gun hand shook as you breached the rim, gasping once he felt a cold, lubed finger inside him. "There we go. Come on, halfway there, I want your cock," he babbled brainlessly.

When you didn't thrust the second in immediately afterwards, he growled and pressed the gun into your forehead. "Faster. I have things to—oh, fuck! Ha-ah, yes, thank you," he actually whimpered as you curled your finger right into his prostate.

"Still need to rush prep, or will you let me do this right?" You murmured in his ear while thrusting your finger, to which he moaned at the mixture of stimulation and your low timbre. "Put the gun down, Wesker. I'm fucking you either way, you don't need to threaten me."

Wesker nodded shakily, forgetting he had the gun in the first place, and leaned back while you slipped the second in, grinning sadistically as you watched a spurt of precum leak from his cock. Your head was buzzing with the lust that you were barely holding back just out of want to watch Wesker come undone. You sped up your fingers, hitting his prostate every time, until he was about to cum. Then, you abruptly removed your fingers and he growled.

"The hell are you doing?" He snapped as you drizzled lube your own cock. Once he realized what was happening, he propped himself up on his elbows to watch, grateful that he was superhuman and could flex without any resistance.

Once the head of your dick breached his hole, Wesker gripped his desk so hard he heard splinters. But you were slow, so painfully slow and he was already trying desperately to keep from orgasming. He tackled you, still spearing himself onto you, and landed you on the floor with your head cushioned carefully by his hand.

"Mmh, you're so much bigger than—ah!—than I thought," he murmured as he sank down on you. He'd already marveled at its look, and you had to push him off to fuck him instead of let him try to suck you off for the next fifteen minutes, but now that it was inside him...

When he encountered resistance halfway down your cock, he let out a pathetic sob-slash-moan and weakly tried to get to the base, but you gripped his hips. "Come on, you have more than enough in. Get up so I can—" you tried to say, then gasped as Wesker forced himself the rest of the way down. "Fuck, Wesker, you're so tight," you groaned as you helped him slowly develop a rhythm. He, however, ignored your help and began at a brutal pace, making the both of you arch and let out a string of moans and curses that mingled in the air. Damn his stupid superpowers.

"Ha-ah—christ, Wesker, slow down! Does that even feel good?" You gasped as he threw his head back and let out a manic laugh.

"Shut up—oh, god, I've wanted you like this for so long, ngh, we've got to do this again," he babbled with an uncharacteristic grin splitting his face. A grunt escaped his throat every time he slammed back down onto your pelvis, which was every second to half a second, what with his increased agility.

You grew annoyed with Wesker's impatience and flipped him over, starting at the same brutal speed but targeting his sweet spot. As you pistoned harshly, all he could do was moan your name and scrabble at the floor. All you cared about was your own release, but you pushed down on his stomach to feel your cock scrape his walls. "Feel that?" You panted. If he didn't have enhanced healing, he'd sure as shit have been bruised in the morning.

"Wesker, gonna cum," you warned. As you began to pull out, he clenched tight around you and wrapped his legs around your waist, forcing you to cum deep inside him. At the feeling of being filled, Wesker screamed (though if anyone heard, he'd kill them) out your name and spurted a heavy load of cum on your chest, dripping and pooling at his own pelvis.

You felt your head clear after you came and slowly moved to lie on the floor next to Wesker, still nestled inside him. "I'll clean up in just a bit," you promised hoarsely, "give me a minute."

──────────────────────

Wesker was more than happy to lie uselessly on the lab bed while you wiped down the scene. You thought you saw him stuffing your cum back into his dripping asshole, but you decided against calling him out. Soon, your mixed fluids from the floor were discarded in the trash and a warm wet towel dragged across Wesker's bare body. You gently dressed him as he murmured things you could hardly hear. "Wait, was—was I good?" He asked in a dazed voice.

You looked at him softly and noticed the aftereffects hit him hard; his hair gel had deteriorated completely, his eyes were low and adoring, and a weak frown stuck on his face. "Yeah. You were really good. Best I've had," you promised as you set his sunglasses and reading glasses beside him.

"Will you kiss me?" Wesker asked, avoiding eye contact. "Just once. You can pretend nothing happened tomorrow," he added. "I—I was doing the damn experiment so you would..."

You decided to kiss him; you're not sure why. He was your boss, he clearly had serious feelings for you, those feelings manifested negatively and obsessively, and you didn't reciprocate: all these were true. It was also true that he was hot, he was begging you so sweetly, and some part of you kinda liked the idea of stringing him along to see just how pathetic the proud head scientist could get in his affections before you decided to see where it could go.

Wesker let out a breathy, weak giggle into your mouth, grabbing your head to pull you closer. His smile could be felt, contagious through the kiss, yet when you pulled away, it faltered back into a bitter scowl.

Wesker pushed you away and stood up, brushing past you as he put his sunglasses on. Wesker swallowed before he spoke again, his voice colder than before. "You know, I really don't understand you. I'm a stellar sexual partner, I have wealth and power and strength you couldn't even dream of, and I'm set to start a new world order with me at its helm. Yet you still. won't. look at me. Metaphorically speaking," he mused aloud. "Clean yourself up and take the rest of the day off. Until further notice, you'll be serving as the lab rat for the..." he faltered as he couldn't think of what to call it.

"The love potion?" You guessed. Wesker shot a glare at your juvenile description but hummed out an affirmative. So your new job was to get hit with an aphrodisiac every day until someday it worked and you were chemically in love with Wesker. Oh, well. At least you weren't going to be doing grunt work. You could probably catch up on a book while you were at it.

"So, the sniffing from earlier—"

"Don't."

"I'm not! But I can't help but wondering..."

"Stop. Now."

"Was that why my locker key was on your lanyard? That's where I put gym clothes."

"I'm not talking about this."

┌───────────────────────┐

I write on mobile on tumblr so I'm not sure how many words I'm at. Anyways watching Aether's cinematic RE playthroughs and it's all I can think about right now 💔

Apologies if the mood and stuff is all over the place, i don't care to put much into something when the target audience is like 5 ants and a single dude in iowa LMAO. Wesker's probably not too in character but hey yk i really don't give a damn

[moonriseoverkyoto]

Wearing your brother’s dog tags brings a lot of questions, which meant problems. Especially from men, especially at a bar where said men try to pick you up. Or strike a conversation about the mysterious dog tags. Lucky for you a certain Scot lovingly doesn’t think to ask too many questions. Not until Johnny “Soap” Mactavish’s tongue is down your throat in the back of his car on holiday do the gears begin to turn. But only, yes only after, a few odd weekends of small dates and letters when he can write, he finally decides to ask who your tags belong to between deep kisses and pants. You frown as you pull away to respond, the mood dampened.

“Oh I really shouldn’t say..” you sigh not wanting to explain the long story typically because it ruins the mood “my brother gave me these so I wouldn’t worry about him when he leaves on missions. His call sign is Ghost and…” Shit. Johnny’s whole body seizes up as his heart makes a pitfall down his body. His hearing stops as his brain repeats your joined last name over and over and over; Riley, Riley Riley Riley. Fuck why didn’t he connect the dots. Ghost always was secretive and protective about his younger sister, everyone knew he always declined to bring you as his plus one or even show photos to the rest of the 141. Damnit he knows somewhere down the line if Gaz or even worse Price hears about this that he’ll never live it down. If Ghost hears about this - shit he’ll never live. He finally zones back in to hear you say

“…but that doesn’t matter because you guys don’t run in the same circles, right?” Soap’s nervous smile gives you all the time for your heart to join his in dropping down below. But as your phone rings both of you are sure your hearts have dropped down to hell as the caller id reads: Simon Riley.

Drabble Drabble, I’m tired and I wanted to put this on paper before it slipped my mind. I’ll expand upon this later but this is mostly an idea for @glossysoap to enjoy because Glossy loves Soap as much as I do. So I hope you enjoy btw not proofread so toodles xoxo - Moon

©️moonriseoverkyoto 2024. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, or translate any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission.

Reposts are 100000% appreciated. Also my inbox is open for requests!

[kajibunny]

⟡˖ ࣪ ren kaji as your boyfriend ₊˚⊹⋆

✿ summary: relationship headcanons (ren kaji x reader) ✿ warnings: awkward silliness, some parts are a lil suggestive ✿ a/n: i love this man so much you don’t understand pls ;__; hi i'm new here and ofc my first post is abt my love, ren kaji hihi pls be nice!! ✿ wc: 960

ꕤ kaji is more than just your bf, he’s also your bff, partner-in-crime, and sometimes guard dog (lol).

ꕤ he’s a little mean, but he means well. 

ꕤ everyone in town refers to you both as each other’s “other half”, as he relies on you quite a lot. not because he wants to boss you around (well, well, iykyk second year grade captain ren kaji mode on) but because he immensely trusts you.

ꕤ you also rely on him a lot, and he is a very protective boyfriend. he won’t let anyone harm a single hair on your head if he can help it.

ꕤ lots of people thought you two were already together way before you two actually got together, since you two were always…well, together. to the point that you adapted each other’s habits and vocabulary. (you catch yourself picking up kaji's direct tone of speaking and occassional "damnit!") no one was at all surprised when he introduced you as his lover. to everyone, you two were practically married already.

ꕤ it’s either both of you are bantering or play fighting one second, then all over each other the next. if ever you two have serious arguments, he’s usually the first one to apologize and ask how he can make it up to you. kaji is very mature that way, and is scared of hurting you, as he treasures you with all his heart (and body lol).

ꕤ has this habit of putting his lollipop in your mouth - just to see what you would do. loves the faces you make when you least expect it. thinks you’re so cute like that, but of course, will never admit it out loud. 

ꕤ when agitated, he calms down when you give him head pats and tell him that he’s a good boy. (double meaning i’m telling you)

ꕤ his love language is definitely quality time! he loves hanging around with you, walking home together, having deep talks in high places like a grassy hill or rooftop until the sun rises, listening to music together while you lean on his shoulder absorbing the sound from his headphones.

ꕤ your pet names for each other are lowkey insults like “idiot, dumbass, stupid” but affectionately. it became kind of like an inside joke between the two of you. he’d say the sweetest things, then pair it with a completely opposite word, like “it’s because i love you…you fool.” and you can't tell whether he wants to fight you or if he wants to kiss you. 

ꕤ kaji likes having collaborative playlists with you. doesn’t matter if you two don’t have the same music taste, since he’s always curious about what you’re listening to. sometimes sneaks in a few hidden messages using song titles in his playlists, for your eyes only.

ꕤ during the cold season, he lets you slip your hands in his hoodie pockets, embracing him from behind, like he’s your natural heat pack.

ꕤ when sleeping together, he’s a (literal) freak in the sheets. a blanket and pillow hogger, takes up more than half of the bed, ends up in the strangest sleeping positions, and at times accidentally pushes you until you end up on the floor. 

he definitely does not mean it though, if you hug him or hold him tightly while sleeping, there’s a higher chance he’ll stay still.

ꕤ when not on the bed, kaji likes to take naps on your lap or your shoulder, because according to him “it’s comfy and soft. like a pillow”

ꕤ lets you hold his valuables - lets you wear his hoodies, lets you hold his headphones, lets you drink from his bottled water, and even lets you suck on his lollipop (the one in his mouth okay but maybe also sometimes the one in his pants asdjbjdjcnd;;) but only you are allowed, because you’re special.

ꕤ you had to learn basic first aid because kaji always ends up with many injuries after fights, and gets angry at anyone who tries to touch him or disinfect his wounds, except for you. (soft!kaji *sighs* the effect you have on him aaaa) 

ꕤ makes a barrier with you in his arms whenever you’re passing with him in a crowded or busy street, to make sure no one bumps you or gets too close to you, to keep you safe.

ꕤ kaji is naturally such a good kisser, but claims he doesn’t really know what he’s doing. he tells you it’s just because he’s eaten a lot of lollipops, so he probably practiced unknowingly with his mouth and tongue. (help this is so funny)

ꕤ so many awkward and cute moments, that makes you love your little idiot ren kaji more and more each day (if that’s even possible) 

accidentally bit your hand when you fed him food. (from that day on, woke up to the realization that he might have a little bit of a biting kink)

once tried to do a kabedon on you like you two saw in one film you watched together but ended up tripping a bit, landing on top of you and squishing you.

there was a time he asked for love advice from hiragi when you two started dating, and umemiya ended up eavesdropping on them, and kaji ran away so fast as if he saw a ghost (ref: ch 58 kaji-senpai lol)

forgot he was wearing his headphones with music on full blast and broadcasted a little too loudly about how much he missed you because “you were gone on your trip for so long” and he “wanted to kiss your annoying face” all in front of his giggly vice captains, who of course heard every single thing he said. you made sure to tease him a lot about it afterwards.

© kajibunny 2024 / all rights reserved

[formylovetodaryldixon]

"Like gravity." Daryl Dixon Imagine.

@fluffy-dixon: Okay, so this is my request. Maybe prison era? Daryl and OC became quite close during their time at the Quary as she was one of the only people (obvs minus Carol) that checked in on him, spoke to him, spent time with him etc and actually cared about him. She was a bit of an outcast as well. But when they get to the prison they have a little bit more time to settle down and actually become a thing, daryl is utterly in love with her but is too afraid to say but he takes her out hunting and while they're hunting he comes accross some rabbits that he wants to kill for food but she won't let him because she used to keep rabbits herself and the thought of it broke her heart but he let's it slip that he loves her because he says something along the lines of, 'god damnit woman, if I didn't love you so much they'd be cooking in a stew' or something like that. Take of it as you will but yeah ❤️

Hi, love! You are my first request and it was soooo sweet I loved writing it! I really, really hope this comes a little closer to what you had in mind. If not, I'm sorry :c But thank you so much♥

A/N: I laughed a little writing Merle even though he's also an idiot haha ​​but spoiler alert: Merle telling Daryl that he should marry you or fuck you or both made me laugh. I borrowed a scene from Carol and Daryl too hehe. Hope you like this!

When a woman is in love, you can see it in her smile. When a man is in love, you can see in his eyes.

Daryl’s eyes, they spoke so loudly the words he was so afraid to say. And now, they can’t hide that sparkle of hope every time he sees you. But if you could ask him when he started looking at you differently, he would tell you it was the first time you sat down next to the bonfire he and his brother made, too overwhelmed to be around so many people in the camp outside the city.

It happens the moment it starts raining pretty heavily, with Merle cursing the sky before locking himself in his tent. That was the first time Daryl heard your laugh since he met you: a sweet, innocent sound full of colors in that grey world. For a minute, you’re too immersed in your own happiness looking up, a hand outstretched to feel the raindrops. But the moment you look back at Daryl, he shifts his gaze to the arrow he was carving with his knife, because the way you looked at him was almost overwhelming for Daryl, so deep as that color of your gaze.

You were a sweet thing to look at, but the more you talked with each other, the more he saw different facets of you.

The first time you actually talked, you told him to fuck off, and Daryl could say that was one of his favorite moments with you. It happens when he comes back from hunting, with some squirrels in his bag, and he sees you a little bit far from the main group, pulling a pack of cigarettes from your black jeans.

You don’t notice that he is looking at you, with a confused expression but with a deep gaze, as if you were the most difficult puzzle to put together. Daryl never liked riddles, those mind games, and you looked exactly like them, too difficult to understand at first glance.

He approaches you.

“Care to share?” Daryl asks when he stops next to you, so you give the package to him. “M’ Daryl, by the way.”

“(Y/N).” You say, simply.

Daryl can’t help but scoff as he lights a cigarette, because it was his nature to repel anything that seemed soft, tender, weak in his eyes, almost like your name.

“That’s a princess name, y'know?”

However, to his own surprise, you chuckle.

“Fuck you, Daryl. I didn’t ask for your opinion on my name.”

But your voice full of boldness telling him fuck you makes him chuckle too: a low, masculine sound, but transparent as Daryl pushes the smoke away before looking at you.

“What's on the menu tonight?” He nods towards the group.

You take the cigarette from your lips, pushing the smoke out before talking, too.

“Canned beans, just like yesterday and probably tomorrow and for the rest of our lives.”

As you look straight ahead, analyzing always the situation you’re in, Daryl watches you, taking in everything: at first sight, there is this fierceness in your gaze but that seemed to be compassionate too, with a free attitude but that seemed to analyze everything. You seem to be a rebellious soul, almost as lost as he was.

“Have ya ever tried squirrels?” Daryl asks softly, kind of awkward. You look at him, shaking your head. “M’ cookin’ ‘em if ya wanna join us.”

He starts walking towards his own camp when you talk again.

“You don’t hunt rabbits, do you?”

Daryl turns around, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“Why?”

It was stupid, you know it, so you just shake your head.

“It's nothing. I think I'll accept your invitation, so thank you.”

Too confused, Daryl nods before walking again so he misses the way you look at him this time. You can notice the beautiful color of his eyes behind that mocking, condescending expression on his almost stupid but very attractive face. A few strands of his hair, dark blonde or almost brown, fell over his forehead, framing that deep but accusatory look he had for everybody. His shoulders are broad, and although he didn’t look like a person who flaunted himself, his sleeveless shirt doesn’t leave much to the imagination when you can see the muscles in his arms. It was the end of the world, the beginning of a new one, but that didn't mean you had gone blind.

However, the next thing that happens with Merle, must have given Daryl some clue as to the feelings he would develop for you in the near future, because the moment you reach his camp that night, Merle is alone.

“Well, well, ain’t ya a beauty?” Merle smiles and looks at you up and down, practically eating you up with his eyes. “Ma baby brotha said he invited ya but I didn’t think ya would come to him, not when m’ the good–lookin’ one.” He comes closer, slowly and dangerously. “Ya got a name, darlin’?”

“(Y/N).” The women and men in the camp warned you about Merle Dixon, but you manage to smile at him, playing with fire even when you knew you could get hurt. “Don’t tell this to Daryl but you are the good–looking one.”

He smiles, he just can’t help it, wildly like a predator when the animal knew in its gills that it was about to capture the prey.

“Ya really look like a refined woman, darlin’, If I feed ya squirrels too, would ya moan ma name at the end of the night? I promise I’ll make ya beg for more.”

You raise an eyebrow, looking at him, but before you can answer back, Daryl walks back from the woods.

“Merle, for once in yer life, shut the fuck up.”

However, Merle finds that even extra funny, and he keeps walking towards you. But you know well that the first to look away in the staring game loses, so you, without any fear in your eyes, wait until Merle is close enough, and at that moment, you catch the handle of the gun that was hidden at the back of your waist, under your black cardigan, and you press it to Daryl’s asshole brother’s chin.

Merle holds his breath, unlike his baby brother who finds the situation strangely attractive, and kind of hot too.

“I’m begging you now, Merle, please repeat everything you just said. I promise you that before you finish saying the last word, you will run out of a mouth and jaw to say it.”

He swallows the lump in his throat, because he was an idiot, yes, but even Merle Dixon knew when to back off at the threat of a bullet, which came from a person who really seemed determined to do it.

“I was jus’ kiddin’ with ya, sweetheart.” He tries to laugh, but his smile trembles at the cold of the gun. “Ya wouldn’t do that to yer new friend Merle.”

You chuckle, pulling it away.

“I am normally a sweetheart, Merle, but I am also the person capable of sinking the fucking ship with myself inside just so that no one is saved. You know what I mean by that?”

He nods, clearing his throat so his words wouldn’t break off mid–sentence.

“Guess yer ma brotha’s new friend?”

You look back at Daryl, who is looking at you with a frown (something normal now for you), but also with an amused expression.

Then, you look back at Merle.

“Something like that.”

“Well… welcome to our lovely home, darlin’!” He smiles, after taking a silent deep breath of relief, and he looks at his brother. “You got to fuck or marry this woman, baby brotha, or both. Condoms are on ma tent!”

He laughs walking to the woods, and that was disgusting and it makes you wonder, where the hell did you got yourself into?

But things from there, were like a roller–coaster going only up. You and Daryl were like an unlikely duo, but maybe that was why you both looked good together. Despite the danger, you two found a new world in which you wanted to continue living, delving into the unknown that was falling in love.

The moment the family you made reached the prison, that gave you two a safe place to, start a thing, you could say.

During one of the first months and when your sleeping world turned red like bright blood, you come out to see the stars from the front of the prison. So you sit there, in an old desk, with your legs falling from the edge and a dead feeling in the depths of your soul.

From afar, Daryl watches you with a cigarette in between his lips. By that moment, Daryl already knew what name to give to his feelings for you, but although he was an brave hunter, he was also too shy to accept that revelation. However, it was the way your eyes used to look at everything that caught him from the beginning: always with attention, always thinking what was best for your safety and what would keep you alive. But also the way your gaze seemed to rest from that life, from pain and fear, and then all that force disappeared when you used to look for something better, something meaningful.

Like gravity, you became the person who kept him standing on the ground.

Daryl blows out the smoke from his cigarette, watching you as he walks towards you. What you were caught him in a way that should never have happened. But your strongest side and your weakest one, the good and the bad that could be in you: he found himself looking in your direction all the time since he met you, always aware of where you were inside and outside the prison, always stuck to you like a lost puppy as Carol used to say.

“Hey…” He says softly, in a deep, hoarse voice as he sits next to you. “Shouldn’t ya be sleepin’?”

You smile gently at him, enough to brighten your eyes.

“Shouldn’t you?”

And there it was, the way you sounded like a worried girlfriend. Fuck, Daryl loved that, Daryl loved you. But there he was: feeling too much for you, or maybe feeling too little for a life that deserved to be lived to the end.

“I don’ sleep.”

You look at him with a curiosity expression.

“You dream too much?” You ask. Daryl frowns at you, not because he is upset, but confused that you knew exactly the reason behind his sleepless nights. “When I was a baby and I couldn’t sleep, my mom used to caress my hair so softly that I felt sleepy quickly. Do you want me to do that to you?”

You are joking, kind of, but you know your words would only make him shy as he scoffs.

“I ain’t a fuckin’ baby.”

You chuckle.

“Fuck you, Dixon. I was just trying to be nice.”

However, Daryl looks at you with a frown, and an almost exasperated expression.

“Woman, almost every day ya curse at me. I dunno how I let ya kiss me with that mouth.”

His words make you laugh, and Daryl would be lying if he said that wasn't his favorite sound in the whole world.

“I do that because you deserve it.” You chuckle, taking the cigarette from his fingers to take a blow, looking at the stars as an idea came to your mind. “Now that we are awake, you wanna screw around while everyone is asleep?”

You try to hold back your laughter as he looks back at you, thanking the night that you didn't see his ears starting to turn red at your bluntness. 

“Ya could ask me nicely. Y’know?” 

You roll your eyes as you jump out of the desk, walking back to the door.

“Fine. If you are not in the mood, I will go back to sleep. Goodnight.”

The painful truth revealed in front of Daryl’s eyes, and it was more frightening than being near death, but more exciting than… Daryl couldn’t compare that feeling with anything else, because he never loved anyone until you came along.

But as Daryl walks towards you, he can’t say it, not yet.

“Fuck, wait. I ain’t sayin’ no.”

But what a great feeling that pressure on his chest was. It was sweet and kind of terrifying at the same time, so real and unreal at the same time. It was like a dream where he could feel everything, but wanting to stay in that place if it meant living there with you.

The next day after everyone received their assignments, Daryl took you hunting with him: that was his silent way of saying he wanted to be alone with you. He was always a quiet person, but while been there with you, Daryl asked you question after question because he wanted to hear long answers, to know more and more about you.

“Ya got a favorite color?” He asks, walking side to side with you, attentive to your words but also to everything around, crossbow in hand to catch the day's food.

“Well…” You bite your lips as you chuckle. You never had a favorite color before, but the night he invited you to eat with him, it seemed like that blank space was always reserved for the color of his eyes. “Blue, I guess. You?”

Strangely, Daryl wanted to say the same thing about your eyes, but when a sound in the bushes catches his attention, he asks you to be quiet as he walks in front of you. His steps are light, but you stay close the moment Daryl pushes the branches aside.

Two little white rabbits froze there, too terrified to move.

“I got us the food.” He says, raising his crossbow.

It takes you a single second, and you know it is wrong, but sometimes feelings are stronger than good judgment.

“No, wait!” You stop him before he shot them, making him turn to you. “Please, don’t. Just, fuck…” You curse under your breath, feeling like a little girl again. “The night you invited me to eat those squirrels, I asked you if you hunted rabbits, remember?” He nods. “I didn’t say this before but before my mom died, she gave me a rabbit that I raised as my son for many years.” You shake your head, feeling a little silly. “Please, don’t kill them. I’m begging you.”

Daryl can see the prayer in your gaze, in those shy eyes that most of the time used to be full of life, always glowing when you used to say things just to make him nervous. So finally, Daryl lowers his crossbow, looking at the rabbits before looking back at you.

“God dammit, woman, if I didn't love ya so much they'd be cookin' in a stew.” He freezes for a second, listening clearly to his heartbeat as he walks away, but Daryl has to clear his throat so his voice wouldn’t break off mid–sentence. “Let's go over there and see if we can get some squirrels instead.”

You smile to yourself as you start following him.

You knew well you could die tomorrow, or the day after that, and although you were afraid your dead could be painful, it could be quick too and then you would die in the middle of a breath, with an incomplete phrase that you will never be able to finish. And you didn’t want that, you wanted to be honest with yourself, you wanted to say what was in my mind and not let your thoughts die If something happened to you at any time.

You wanted to say I love you too aloud. And that night, as you stroked his hair, again, (because he secretly loved it just like he loved you) you said those words to him.

[misslovasstuff]

Op!men seeing you hurt

sanji x reader, zoro x reader

Sanji

The only occasion when he calls you by your name and not one of his words of endearment

With the speed of light, he rushes when he hears you’ve been shot in your leg.

He’s panicked but tries to keep his cool

“Show me please, - Sanji touches your thigh gently, touching the end of your dress to pull it up but you stop his hand. - Y/n?”

“I’m fine… it’s nothing.” - you claim, trying not to let your expression give away your pain.

Sanji stared at you, clenching his jaw as he shakes his head, anger building up. Who even dares to hurt you this way?

“Please, let me see. - he notices the worry on your face and tries to lighten up the situation. - What, are you shy? Love, it was only yesterday when you had my head pressed in between. Now…”

Your cheeks blush, looking away and getting somewhat a sense of relief seeing him smile, although you know deep down it was forced to reassure you.

Sanji raises your dress up, noticing your wound on your thigh. His eyes widen and he curses.

“Damnit!… - he caresses the unwounded area of your thigh as he looks at your eyes. - It must hurt a lot, right? Let’s take you to Chopper!”

Sanji picks you up and you put your hands around him, head resting on his chest.

“I’m really sorry, Sanji. I didn’t mean to be a bother for you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. - he says sharply. - If you wanna feel sorry about something, feel sorry for the bastards that did this to you and that have to deal with me. I’m gonna give them ten times more of the pain you’re feeling now, love.”

“I am in no pain when I’m with you.” - your voice gentle and soft and words so genuine and selfless make Sanji feel even more at fault for letting you get hurt. But his heart starts beating faster and he can’t deny it as your hand rests on his chest.

“I won’t let you get hurt ever again. I promise.” - Sanji kisses your forehead, flames of anger extinguished by your gentle love only to burn brighter than ever after he leaves you at Chopper’s care, kissing the palm of your hand and finishing the business he has with the ignorants who dared to touch his woman.

Zoro

“Are you ok?! Oi, answer me!” - Zoro shakes your body, noticing a lack of reaction.

“…who did this… - he whispers, putting strands of hair behind your ear. - Please answer me, baby. Open your eyes… please…”

He’d never beg for anything, but now more than ever, Zoro felt most helpless. Hi strength could not help, nor his swordsmanship or any other asset he deemed as important.

He had his lover layed on the ground and hurt, and he wasn’t there to protect, to defend, to lay down his life for you.

“fucking hell… - he cusses, grip on his sword tightening. - … why didn’t you call for me?!”

Zoro takes your body, pulling you close to his embrace as his forehead meets yours.

“How can the world hurt such a soul like yours… tell me… open your eyes and scold me as always… please, love…” - his voice has a distinctive desperate tone, jaw clenched that relaxes when he feels his clothes pulled.

You reach your hand to the nape of his shirt, opening your eyes and giggling slightly at his widen gaze.

“You’re so silly, you know?” - and there, you scold him. But instead of having a counter argument, Zoro hugs you tightly, pecking your lips before asking many questions.

“Are you in much pain? Are you feeling fine? Which bastard did this to you, give me his name cause I swear to-

“Relax, - you breathe heavily but still manage to relax your fuming boyfriend. - the fight is over isn’t it? Let’s just go back to the sunny.”

Zoro sighs, scanning your face before saying:

“I could have not handled a second more in this world without you. I’m so glad you’re okay.”

It’s true, although your vision a bit blurry, you can feel his voice shaking and his tight grip on your arms as he holds you, perhaps to convince himself that you’re here with him, and you’re alive.

“Then I’ll make sure to love you for a lifetime, Zoro.”

This man doesn’t usually shed tears but, his eyes get a bit watery as he presses his lips against yours, then shaking his head and sighing in relief.

“Ok enough kissing now, let’s get you treated.”

“You’re the one kissing me, idiot!”

[hey-itsdollie]

You're All I Wantˎˊ˗

‧₊˚ ┊ In which your best friend confesses his feelings for you.

જ⁀➴ Yoichi Isagi x fem! reader

⋮ ⌗ ┆cw ⪼ friends to lovers, female reader, use of pet names, fluff/smut, aged up!, minors dni

You walked besides Isagi through your college campus. The sun was setting, the night lights of the school were turning on. His hair was wet from his recent shower in the locker rooms, a smirk still light on his face from his recent winning match.

In addition to his winning score, seeing you wearing one of his jerseys made his ego larger.

"So are you going to the party tonight?" You ask drifting your gaze from the ground up to your friend. Normally the football team threw a party at their team house after every winning match. Isagi only went if someone made him go; if someone didn't then you would find him staying over at your place.

"Nope, so..." He nudged your shoulder giving him a knowing smile. You sighed nodding, "Yeah, yeah. What do you want to order for dinner?" You question, Isagi thought for a minute. “Something simple, want to order from that noodle place down the street from your place?”

“Yeah sounds good, I've been getting sick of pizza.” You sighed, rubbing your stomach.

The two of you shortly got back to your apartment after reaching your car at college. Luckily living on campus wasn’t mandatory, so you lived in an apartment off of campus free from school curfew and rules.

You sat down on the couch turning the tv on to a random channel before handing Isagi the remote. “Turn on whatever you want.” You offered; the both of you already knowing Isagi practically lived with you. The male having his own clothes folded away in the place, food and drinks he favored stored in the fridge and pantry.

Isagi turned on some music as you went through the updated stories on instagram. Grimacing at the many videos and clips of people partying, ranging from games, clips of people grinding on each other, and people just going crazy due to the alcohol.

Unbeknownst to you, your dark haired friend had his eyes permanently on you. The tv screen dimmed due to the lack of activity, Isagi’s hand gripping the remote tilting, his mouth shut tightly as his mind was wandering to inappropriate thoughts.

The sight of you in his jersey made it incredibly hard for him to act normal around you. The almost obvious feelings he had for you, in which you were too dense to notice them.

“Y/n…” Isagi began catching your attention, pulling your eyes from your device to his deep blue ones.

“Yeah? What’s up?” You question turning your phone off and placing it to the side. “You look really good in my jersey.” He spoke bluntly. You froze, “Oh thank you…” You replied not expecting his sudden compliment.

“Fuck… I mean–Y/n I want you to wear it more often…” Awkwardly, Isagi tried to hint at it more. “Uh, okay…”

“Damnit… I really like you… for so long I have liked you… Seeing you in my jersey does stuff to me–I’m sorry this is so weird.”

You watched Isagi embarrassedly place his head into his hands. Groaning at how pathetic he was acting. You moved to him, placing your hand on his. “You’re being really cute right now Yoichi.” You laughed softly making him look up at you.

“I think pathetic is a better word.”

“You’re being honest, that doesn’t make you pathetic.” You hummed. “I could tell something was going on…” He shot you a confused look from your added statement, “what did you mean?” he thought, filled with confusion. Was he being obvious?

“Well… you weren’t exactly hiding anything…” You explained with a blush, your eyes going down to the non-hidden tent in his pants.

Isagi’s face went red as he slowly looked down at his hard-on. “You’ve got to be kidding me…” He groaned covering his lap a little too late. “I’m sorry… Fuck…”

“It’s okay… but it must hurt huh?”

Isagi watched in shock as you moved down onto the ground, sitting on your knees in between his legs. Your head laid on his thigh, left hands grazing the waistband of his pants. 

With a gulp, the male met your doe eyes. He fully believed he was dreaming, only being knocked out from that delusion once you asked him a question. “Sorry, what was that?”

“I asked if I could help you…” You repeated your question sweetly. With a quick nod Isagi cleared his throat, “Are you sure? I mean… have you ever done anything like this before? I don’t want to hurt you…”

You pulled back your face covered in a red tint. “No, but I want to do this for you… It’s okay Yoichi… I promise.”

After a bit more reassurance Isagi’s pants were around his ankles. Your hands planted on his thighs as his hard-on was up against his abdomen. He watched you grab onto his cock, using two hands to jerk him slowly. Changing the pace the more you get used to it.

Soft gruffs and murmurs left his throat as his hands were buried in your hair. Holding the strands up for you as you helped him. “Yeah just like that…” Isagi murmured. His eyes never leave your movements.

You met his stare before sitting up and licking up his shaft. Feeling his body shiver underneath you. You slowly took him deeper into your mouth, inch by inch. Struggling the more you take. Isagi held back from taking over the situation, finding it endearing at the sight of you slowly learning how to take his length.

“Doing so good… such a good girl ‘f me…”

His praise made you go faster, you used one hand to jerk the inches that weren’t in your mouth as the other massaged his balls. “Fuck…” He cursed tugging your hair as you went down on him.

You slipped his cock out of your wet cavern. Spit covering his length, precum and spit evident on your chin. You gazed up at him, holding eye contact as you placed kisses down his cock and onto his balls. You sucked on his sacks gently making him moan.

Isagi was shocked that you got the hang of it already, with a few things you could work on as time went on.

Kissing back up his cock you licked his tip before placing a kiss on the slit. “Look at you go…” He murmured, his eyes filled with lust, his chest moving rapidly with his deep breaths.

You sent him a smile before taking him deep into your throat. The feeling made his hips snap up in response. “Shit!” He moaned as he thrusted into your mouth. The hold his hand had on your hair tightening in response to the pleasure.

“Fuck… ‘m sorry baby…”

Isagi muttered apologies, loosening his grip on you. He was worried it was too much for you, not wanting you to choke (yet).

The sound of the doorbell made the both of you freeze, realizing the food that you ordered was finally here.You pulled his cock out of your mouth, saliva connecting your lips to his length.

“What no baby…” He pleaded with you to continue and not get up. You looked at him softly laughing as you wiped your mouth and chin. Blushing at the sight of the substances that were on you.

“The food will get cold, plus we don’t want animals eating it before us.” You replied, already moving to the door, looking through the peephole before opening the door.

Isagi watched you bend over to pick up the food groaning at the fact he got blue balls due to the fucking delivery man.

You shut the door grinning at him. “Are you ready to eat?” You ask excitedly for the food since it smelled good.

“Baby.” He sighed, you gave him your attention placing the food on the kitchen counter. Waving his hand for you to come to him.

“We aren’t done.” He looked at you full of need and lust.

erm first time... hope this is good!

©hey-itsdollie please don't copy, change, or steal my work. Thank you!

[ghostlyglimmer]

The Fun Zone Part 3

You can find previous chapters here

Summary:

Danny Fenton’s part-time job at The Fun Zone—a chaotic arcade and entertainment center that’s secretly a gang front—was going great until a certain vigilante stormed in to shut the place down.

It was another day at The Fun Zone, and Danny was manning the counter like always, half-heartedly sorting through a stack of tokens while sipping on an overly sweet slushy. Business was steady enough to keep him on his feet, but not so busy that he couldn’t hear the unmistakable chime of the front door opening.

Danny didn’t look up right away. “Welcome to The Fun Zone,” he called out in his default bored tone. “Mini-golf is on special today. Please don’t fight over the clown hole.”

“Actually, I’m more interested in laser tag,” came a voice that was far too chipper for Gotham. Danny glanced up to see a young man with a camera slung around his neck and a backpack that looked too functional to just carry snacks. His black hair stuck out at odd angles, and his smile radiated the kind of curiosity that immediately put Danny on edge.

“Sure thing,” Danny said cautiously, taking in the guy’s face. He wasn’t exactly memorable, but he had the same intense energy as a kid trying to win all the prizes at once. “Laser tag’s fifteen bucks for unlimited rounds. You here alone?”

“Yup.” The guy smiled wider. “I like to… scout out fun places for my blog. Gotham doesn’t have many safe places for kids, you know?”

Danny raised an eyebrow. “A blog? About arcades?”

“And family fun centers,” the guy corrected, his voice practically oozing innocence. “Places like this are important. Keeps kids off the streets, you know?”

Danny wasn’t buying it for a second. No one with that much pep belonged in Gotham. “Cool. Name?”

“Uh…” The guy hesitated.

"It's for the ticket." Danny replied

“Tim.” The boy smiled sheepishly

“Tim,” Danny repeated, staring at him for a moment before shrugging. “Okay, Tim. Here’s your gear.”

Danny handed over a laser tag vest and a blaster, noting the subtle tension in Tim’s posture, like he was expecting something to jump out at him. “Laser tag arena’s through the back. Don’t break anything.”

Tim nodded and wandered off, though not without a suspicious glance at the prize counter as if he were cataloging the stuffed animals for some secret database. Danny watched him go, his unease growing.

About ten minutes later, the chime of the office door opening caught Danny’s attention. Red Hood poked his head out “Hey, where’s that slush—”

Hood stopped mid-sentence, narrowing his eyes toward the laser tag entrance. “God damnit-Stay here. Don’t let him leave until I get back.”

“Uh, sure, boss,” Danny said, watching as Hood stalked off toward the laser tag arena like a man on a mission.

Fifteen minutes later, Danny was back at the counter when Tim returned, looking slightly disheveled but otherwise unbothered. He placed the laser tag gear on the counter and smiled. “That was fun. You’ve got a good setup here.”

Danny crossed his arms. “You meet my boss in there?”

Tim’s smile didn’t falter. “Oh, you mean the guy who thinks laser tag is a viable interrogation method? Yeah, we had a nice chat.”

“Sure you did,” Danny said dryly, grabbing a disinfectant wipe to clean the gear. “So, what’s the deal? You guys just take turns harassing me, or is this some kind of weird Gotham hazing ritual?”

Tim tilted his head, genuinely curious. “You seem pretty unfazed by all this. Not many people can handle Red Hood breathing down their neck without sweating.”

Danny smirked. “I’ve had worse bosses.”

“Fair enough,” Tim said, pulling a notepad out of his pocket and jotting something down. “By the way, do you guys host birthday parties?”

“Yeah, but it’s mostly chaos and kids screaming for tokens,” Danny replied. “Not sure it’s blog-worthy.”

Tim grinned, slipping the notepad back into his pocket. “Oh, I think this place is definitely worth writing about.”

As Tim walked out the door, Danny sighed, already bracing himself for whatever nonsense tomorrow would bring. Hood emerged from the laser tag arena a moment later, looking equal parts annoyed and suspicious.

“He leave?” Hood asked.

“Yup,” Danny replied. “Said he’s writing about us.”

“Great,” Hood muttered. “Now we’re gonna end up on Bat's watchlist.”

Danny couldn’t suppress his grin. “We weren’t already?”

Hood shot him a glare. “Shut up and mop the arcade.”

Danny gave a mock salute. “Aye aye, Captain Hood.”

[hitchyboi]

Dating Havik Headcanons #1

Y'ALL OKAY THIS IS FOR MEEEEEEE XD I NEED MORE HAVIK AND GOD DAMNIT I'LL PROVIDE IT IF NO ONE ELSE WILL!

Oki thank you~

Content Warning- It's Havik. Gore, Blood, Violance, Self Mutilation, one small NSFW bit, Swearing (That's just me)

Cuteness aggression to the max. He can't help it, his partner is so precious when he's hugging them all he can imagine is squeezing them until their ribs break and pierce their lungs. If he's caressing their face, they can feel the way his fingers twitch, itching to dig his nails into their soft flesh.

He chews and bites. A lot. After Scorpion burned his face off he realized his ability to just straight bite things got easier without skin in the way. Will hug his partner from behind and chew on their hair cause he likes the texture. Cuddling? Random bites the entire time and they range from light and playful to you think he's genuinely trying to eat you sometimes. He isn't, kinda. Just likes biting.... Sometimes he may be trying to take an actual bite. Romantic Cannibalism.

His name has become a confusing mix of a disgust and comfort. If anyone ever calls him Dairou he gets insanely mad, remembering his life in Seido in the lowest caste and all the dictatorship over his life. Yet when his partner calls him his name... its almost like a comforting blanket he's never felt being wrapped around him. He doesn't have to be Havik, Cleric of chaos and symbol of anarchy. He can let himself relax for a moment, his worries can drift away for another day. With his partner... he can just be Dairou.

Surprisingly he is a good cook. Now his method of cooking may be a bit... unorthodox. You don't really know what he's cooking with. Or how he even got it in the first place. But give him some meat, herbs and spices and a fire. He'll be able to roast up a good tasting meal.

Has issues with monogamy. Not being faithful part but more the idea of having fidelity forced onto him? He doesn't like the idea of rules or societal norms re-shackling him after he's gained his freedom. If his partner is fine with polyamory or having an open relationship, great. If his partner isn't comfortable, communicating it as a personal preference and comfort level would gain more an understanding reaction from him rather than telling him he needs too.

Man's comfortable as hell in his relationship and partner. Would never tell his partner what they can or can't do or wear cause fuck that shit. You wanna go to a club wearing a sexy ass outfit and show yourself off? He's your hype man. Go out nude, he'd support it.

Will kill a man if someone messed with his partner.

Has killed a man for messing with his partner.

Has a habit of mutilating himself at the most random of times. Almost like the habit of cracking one's knuckles he starts to feel stiff and really uncomfortable if he hasn't snapped or torn a part of his body for a while.

His partner will have to force this man to put on a shirt if they are going out in Earthrealm. He doesn't understand the social norms of Earthrealm and frankly... he doesn't give a shit to learn. He'll eventually put on a shirt if his partner insists for their own comfort

Has tried to fight police officers, many times.

Getting this man to properly bath himself is a hassle on its own. He grew up in a way where bathing was a luxury few could afford so self care isn't something he's well versed or keen on. If his partner insists that they'd join him in the bath or shower then eventually they'll be able to pull his grimy ass into the water. Once he is in the water however, good luck getting him back out.

Lil NSFW~ Any marks his partner makes on his body during night time fun will always be saved on his body. He'll never fully heal them up, scars are like a badge on honor to this man. Now he gets to walk around with more scars and scars that his partner placed on his body from how well he was fucking their brains out.

[night-night-stories-before-bed]

There will be peace when we are done.

Warning ⚠️; slight smut, blood, mention of injuries, loss of limbs.

Pairing; bottom!Gojo Satoru/ Top!Male!Reader

Summary; You refuse to let Satoru die and be used as a weapon just like you refuse to let him fight Sukuna alone.

Note; Yes, I am still in denial. Let my gorgeous king live god damnit he deserves a happy ending. And that is my first smut so be kind :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your hands were shaking with anger after what you just heard. If it wasn't for Satoru’s hand holding your arm you would be punching them all this instant. How dare they propose such an abomination? How heartless could they be toward their friend? Toward Satoru? Or was he never their friend, just a weapon in their eyes?

- “Bullshit! As if I’m going to stand there and let y'all do something like that!” You snapped, feeling Satoru’s hand squeezing your arm tighter. “Satoru is our friend! He is a human being, not a fucking weapon!”

All eyes are on you, shocked by your reaction. You were a chill guy, not someone who was ready to jump at someone's throat like that. Even Shoko had stepped away from you, her face paler than usual.

Maybe it was the pure rage in your eyes or the murderous aura around you, but they all knew you weren't joking. They knew you wouldn't let anything happen to Satoru, was he dead or alive. You were, after all, loyal to your friends to the point you would gladly sacrifice your life for them. But right now? Right now you only stood by Satoru. You never thought any of them would come up with such a plan.

- “While it touched me that you feel this way, Y/N, we need to be prepared for every outcome.” Satoru said, voice calm but without its usual amusement.

- “Over my cold dead body, Satoru.” You replied, turning your head to stare into his blue eyes.

They were empty, tired and you could tell a part of him had given up. So much had happened within a few months. You had lost many friends and more would fall fighting Sukuna, you knew it. You rested your hand on Satoru’s, gently squeezing it.

- “I am not letting you die and I am not letting them use your corpse like a damn puppet.”

You can't tell your words are touching Satoru. His gaze softened as a small smile appeared on his lips, the first since he had been freed from the box.

- “Thanks, but I’ll win. We are just preparing ourselves in case something goes South.”

- “Nothing will go South, you won't die.”

It’s a promise, a vow to him that you won't let Sukuna kill him. You already lost too much to that fucker, you can't lose Satoru too. Not when you still had to admit your feelings for him, not when Megumi had only him left too.

And with that, the small meeting is over.

You have less than a month to prepare for the fight. It is not enough. The kids are not ready. Yuta has still progress to make and Yuji does too. A single mistake and you'll have to watch the children be torn into pieces, a sight your heart wouldn't support.

As you walk to your room, the night already advanced, you realized that Satoru kept walking by your side in silence. His hand was still holding your arm, something you didn't even notice until now. A small frown was painted on Satoru’s soft face and his eyes filled with something you couldn't really name.

Without a world you let Satoru follow you inside your room. From there, you couldn't tell what thing led to the other, but clothes fell to the ground and you quickly found yourself as naked as the day you were born, kissing and touching a naked Satoru.

It was Satoru who pushed you onto the bed, kissing you like his life depended on it. Your hands found his hips, pulling him against you as you explored his body. A scar here, another there. Your fingers traced them as your lips found Satoru’s throat and a gasp left his lips. You switched position, laying Satoru on the bed as you kissed and caressed his body. His hands grabbed your hair and let out soft moans.

Each touch, each kiss was met with a sound coming from Satoru and it was addictive.

You followed Satoru's needs and wants. Sometimes sweets, then rougher. You left little bite marks on his inner thighs and hips, then kissed his chest and jaws. Before long Satoru was a mess, enjoying your attention and the way you seemed to worship his body.

After that, Satoru would follow you every night, joining you in bed. Sometimes it would be slow with you cuddling and cherishing him. You would whisper soft words in his ear as took your time fucking him. On other nights you would be rougher, and harsher, as if it was your last night on Earth.

Your favourite part was watching Satoru riding you as if his life depended on it. Sweating, head throwback, he was the perfect depiction of lust and you were his toy. You never wanted it to end.

But even when you would both collapse exhausted, you never allowed Satoru to leave. You would cuddle and hold him in your arms until he would fall asleep.

The first time you told Satoru you loved him, you were balls deep inside him with your face buried in his neck. It had been enough to make him come untouched under you. You would tell him, whispering those three words in his ear every night, every time he was so close to coming. He would tell them back before falling asleep as he was cradled in your arms.

The others also realized that something was happening between you. While you had kept it a secret, Satoru wasn't very good with that. Neither were you.

Satoru would sit on your lap, pressing his ass against your cock on the first occasion presented. And there was the way he looked at you, with such hunger or softness depending on the day.

And you were always together.

If you were in a room, Satoru would be too. When he trained with the kids, you would sit somewhere and watch. You were hard with Yuta, telling him he wasn't doing enough or working hard enough when he would switch body with Satoru.

It disgusted you. You would see red each time, wanting nothing more than to force the teen out of your lover and beat him even tho it wasn't his fault. You still didn't agree with the plan and refused to accept it. Each time it was Satoru who calmed your nerves by wrapping himself around your shoulders and making bad jokes. But the second you would be alone, he would hug you and thank you before asking you to spare Yuta from your wraith. How could you resist him and his blue eyes?

Each time you would end up excusing yourself to Yuta even tho you both knew you would snap again.

And finally the Eve of the fight arrived.

That night, no sex. You lay in bed, cuddling each other. Satoru rested his head on your chest, his naked body pressed against yours. You could feel his heart racing in his chest just like yours. You both knew how dangerous the battle was going to be and that not everyone was going to make it. You had promised to not let him die, even if it cost you your life. That was something Satoru hated to think about, but he had nothing to say because you had agreed to let him fight alone. Until you judged the situation to be too bad.

And how right you were going to be.

The battle was a bloody mess. You were left tense and on your toes with each attack, the two men sent to the other. More than once you almost jumped to join Satoru, but resisted, seeing he was fine. When he lost his arm, you lost the little calm you had left. Heart racing, you could only watch him heal himself.

And then he won. Relief flooded you as he stood victorious until you noticed something wrong with Sukuna. Then you knew. Fast, you ran to Satoru and swung him off the ground as you jumped away just in time before pain exploded in your left leg. You heard gasps coming from the kids and other sorcerers while Satoru cursed in your ear. As you landed away, only one of your feet touched the ground. Looking behind you, you saw half your leg lying on the ground in a poodle of blood.

The rest of the fight was a bit of a blur. You obviously healed yourself and returned to the fight. Like the boss of a video game, Sukuna entered a second phase as he took his original form. The battle was long, yet Satoru and you always stayed close to each other. You had to watch your friends die one after the other or get severely injured.

Until Sukuna was down and Megumi finally free.

The first thing you did as victory was yours was to grab Satoru by the waist and kiss him. Your lips pressed hard against his and he kissed you as hard, like a man drowning at sea. You heard gasps and laughs but didn't care. You smiled and held him tightly in your arms.

It was over, finally. Megumi was free, Yuta had killed Kenjaku and Geto could finally rest in peace.

You pressed your forehead against Satoru’s, smiling tiredly.

- “I love you.” Satoru whispered as he plunged his blue eyes into yours, your fingers tracing his new scars. “I love you so much.”

- “So do I. I don't think I would have survived if that attack had taken you down.” You said as Satoru nodded, closing his eyes and just enjoying your embrace.

You could imagine his body cut in half, guts and blood everywhere. The thought brought tears to your eyes and you closed them, kissing Satoru again. But it didn't happen. Satoru was alive, his warm body in your arms was the proof of it.

You laughed when you heard Megumi tell you to get a room before three pairs of arms wrapped around you and Satoru. You smiled as you and Satoru hugged the kids back.

Yes. It was over and there was finally peace. You shared another look with Satoru, his eyes filled with love and gratitude. You knew this was just a new beginning.

[starsfeyes]

Hiii, can i ask for Yami Sukehiro Sfw and Nsfw headcanons😈

Yami is seriously on my mind constantly so yes absolutely!!!!

Request are open!

Sfw :

Yami is probably one of the most attentive boyfriends you could ever ask for. He notices small things like simple jesters and body language. Pat your tummy subconsciously- he’ll make charmy whip you up something. Rest your head against his shoulder for too long? He’ll have no problem crawling in bed with you to take a nap.

He would be hesitant at first to let you meet his team. He know that you simply speaking to him puts a target on your back and he’s scared they’ll run their mouth about his girlfriend to the wrong person.

For you to meet the other black bulls it takes a but load of begging and puppy eyes. “Suke, please? I want to have a relationship with your team.” “No damnit.”

Early into the relationship he takes note of your likes and dislikes. He loves loves getting you small simplistic gifts. He’s a busy man and doesn’t always have time to get you something big so when he’s in another village he’ll get you books, plushies, or any other different nic nacs he can fine.

Yami is a big man, you know it, I know it, and he knows it. He loves to hug you and press your smaller frame into him or hold your hands and watch them disappear, just something about him engulfing you just does it for him.

He rotates through so many pet names. Baby, babygirl, pretty, pretty girl, honey, darling. He’ll call you anything that sets your cheeks on fire.

Eventually when you do meet the black bulls yami is so anxious, poor baby. Be pacing around the living room keeping close watch incase one of them do ANYTHING you don’t like.

He doesn’t say it often but he loves you very very deeply.

Nsfw :

tw : size kink, breeding kink

Like I previously said, yami is a BIG boy and loves how small you are compared to him. He obviously has a huge cock and loves to watch you struggle to take him.

Yami is a MUNCH. He’ll eat it however, wherever, and whenever you want. All you have to do is ask nicely.

He is very very much a giver but when he receives he praises you like none other. “Mmhm, that’s it babygirl- just like that.”

His hand are so big and strong he loves holding you. Rather it’s up or down. He’ll hold your hips while you ride- he LOVES handle bars. When he holds you down he’ll keep your wrist above your head or a hand planted firmly on your chest.

Yami will cum in you over and over and until hes shooting blanks, he’ll have your knees to your chest telling you how much he loved you and that he’s going to give you his kids.

He loves for you to sit on his lap, anywhere anytime he wants your ass planted in his lap. When yall are alone he’ll pull you flushed to his chest and kiss up and down the back of your neck . In public he’ll hold one hand on your waist while adjusting every so often so you can feel how hard you’re making him.

I need him biblically.

[butlervibesonly]

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 |PART ONE| Wil Ohmsford

• Summary: While chasing freedom you get hurt and precious elf boy finds you. It turns out to be Wil Ohmsford and he is more than pleased to care about you.

• Pairing: Wil Ohmsford x human! reader

• Warnings: mentions of getting hurt, fluff, typos?

• I AM UNCONDITIONALLY OBSESSED WITH WIL OHMSFORD HAHAHAHAH 😽also this is just his song ngl

The sun shines high above, its warmth barely reaching you through the leaves of trees. Your legs ache with each step, exhaustion making its appearance more than visible. You don’t even know how many days you’ve been walking. Only thing you know is that you left to chase freedom, to escape the walls that felt more like a cage… But this kind of freedom is not what you expected. It’s hunger killing your stomach, sleepless nights on the hard earth, and the repeated ache in your bones.

You hear waterfall nearby, and as much as you’re trying to search for it you loose control over your legs. Your foot catches on a root, or maybe a sharp rock, and suddenly the world flips. The sky flashes above you before pain explodes through your leg as you crash to the ground helplessly. For a moment, you can’t even breathe. The sharp, sending agony drowns out every other thought. As much as you struggle to move, the pain gets worse. You ran away to be free. But now, you can’t run at all. “Damnit!” you hiss in pain, as you sit hopelessly on the ground. If you really didn't want something to happen, it's this.

“Are you okay?” you hear from the road. Looking up you see blonde and… indeed very cute boy. He is sitting on his horse but could be around 6 feet tall, his hair is blonde with dark shadows. Eyes blue, bluish than you ever seen. And his smile is more than charming. “I, uh… No…” is all that you can choke out after staring at him.

“I see.” he smiles softly as he jumps from his horse. “What happened to you?” the stranger says and approaches you. You hesitate to speak as you look at him. There is something so indescribable about him… “I… I was walking down this hill and tripped. Now I can barely move…”

“Ouch… Can I?” he crouches down beside you, gesturing at your leg. You nod shyly and let him do whatever he wants to do. He leans closer to your leg, and that’s when you notice it. His pointy ears. “You’re… an elf?” you ask. The elf boy chuckles and carefully lifts up the fabric of your leggings.

“Half elf,” he replies and carefully touches your leg. You respond with a hiss as the pain travels through your whole body. “Hm, it looks like it’s broken…” the elf replies, looking at you. Only thing you can do its that you look at him back. Stare maybe. “Oh, my name is Wil. Wil Ohmsford.” he gently hands out his hand. You take his hand and nod. “I am Y/n.”

Wil smiles and lets go of your hand. “Y/n, I live not so far away. And… you look like you need some place to stay-“ he glances at your broken leg. “and place to heal at.” You nod. What else can you do? You haven’t slept in days, eaten in days and not even spoken with anyone. “That would be nice…”

Wil nods and wants to scoop you up from the ground, but he asks for permission first. “May I?” he asks, his voice low but soft. You smile and nod. He scoops you gently from the ground easily like you weigh nothing. There must be strong arms under that jacket of his. He helps you sit on his horse and he walks beside you.

You keep looking down at him as he holds the leash and lead his horse towards his place. You then see a sign Shady Vale. “So, Y/n, where do you come from ?” Wil interrupts your thoughts. Should you tell him that you ran away? That you chased for freedom but ended up with broken leg?

“Uh… Thinking of how far I’ve come already - far away.” Wil glances at you with that playful smile again. “Far away? I don’t know a place like that.” he teases. You just chuckle and shake your head. “I tried to… escape. Wanted to have some freedom, you know…” you say honestly. Wil nods in understanding and stops the horse.

You look up and see a hut, a garden around it and trees surrounding it. “That’s my house,” Wil says. “More likely my kingdom.” Wil gently carries you in his arms. The world seems to fade as he carries you, his strong arms cradling your weary body. At some point, the scent of wood and earth shifts. Less wild, more controlled. The air is rich with herbs, dried flowers, and something faintly sweet. Just like Wil.

Familiar warmth surrounds you and you feel softness underneath you. A bed. Not the cold, hard ground you’ve grown used to, but something so comforting, something safe. As hard as you try not to fall asleep right away, you fail.

When you begin to stir, the light is dimmer, golden rays of the sunset slipping through wooden beams above. A blanket is pulled over you, and the steady crackle of a fire fills the space. And you smell herbs coming from the night stand.

“You’re awake.” The voice is calm, smooth — Will. He kneels beside the bed, setting something down on the small wooden table where steaming tea lays. “You were asleep for a while. Looks like you needed it.” he smiles warmly. You inhale sharply, fingers gripping the blanket as your broken leg reminds you its being. He notices.

“Here, drink this.” Wil lifts a small cup, steam curling from its surface. “It will help ease the pain.” You hesitate at first but take it. The scent of herbs and honey makes your heart flutter. When you take a sip, warmth spreads through your chest. The bitterness of the medicine lingers, but the honey dulls it.

Wil waits, watching as you drink. Only when the cup is empty does he move closer, carefully peeling back the blanket to check the splint on your leg. His touch is light, almost practiced. “You seem to be good at this.” you say, watching him work.

“Thanks. I am healer so… that’s maybe the reason.” he smiles warmly at you, before turning back to check on your fracture. “You’ll heal,” he says, adjusting the bindings with gentle precision. “But it will take time.”

You barely manage a nod, your limbs already growing heavy again. The exhaustion is too much, pulling you down despite your best efforts to fight it. As your eyes flutter closed, you feel the blanket being tucked more securely around you again “Rest,” Will murmurs. “You are safe here.” The last thing you see before sleep takes you is the him, watching over you, his expression soft and warm.

When you open your eyes the time passed. It looks like it’s night now. The fire has burned low, its embers casting a soft, flickering glow across the wooden walls. The scent of herbs still lingers in the air, comforting and familiar now.

And then you notice Wil. He sits by the window, his silhouette outlined in silver by the moonlight streaming through window. He is awake. His posture is still, almost too still, as if he got lost in thoughts. His gaze is distant, fixed somewhere beyond the trees outside.

For a moment, you simply watch him. You can’t tear your gaze from him, he looks so magical and precious. Almost as like he belongs to this place in a way you never have anywhere. You shifting in bed catches his attention and you take advantage of that. “Why aren’t you sleeping?” you murmur.

Surprise flickers across his sharp features before smiling at you. “I don’t sleep well outside my own bed,” he says simply, rubbing his tights. It takes a moment for the meaning to settle. You glance down at the soft blankets wrapped around you. His bed.

“You could lay me somewhere else-” you say, guilt stirring in your chest. “You need it more.” he cuts your words. You smile, but the guilt is still there.

His voice is actually so calm. But there’s something in the way he says it that makes your throat tighten. He has helped you so much already—carried you, tended to your wounds, given you warmth and bed to sleep in. And now he’s giving up his own comfort for your sake.

There is painful silence between both of you. Then, before you can talk yourself out of it, you shift slightly to the side, ignoring the dull throb in your leg. You lift the blanket just enough. “ There is enough of space,” you say softly. “You should sleep too.”

Wil doesn’t move at first. In the low light, his expression is unreadable, but you can feel his hesitation. Then, finally, with a quiet sigh, he stands up and smiles. “You are so stubborn,” Wil murmurs, though there is no real frustration in his voice. Just softness and warmth. A smile tugs at your lips. “So I’ve been told.”

Wil removes his shirt, because he sleeps without it and moves carefully, as if uncertain. You can see his toned body and the strong arms that carried you. When he finally lowers himself onto the edge of the bed, a strange sense settles in the air. He keeps a careful distance, lying on his side to face you. But the warmth of his presence is there, steady and real, a quiet reassurance in the dark.

For the first time in more than couple of days, you feel truly safe. Your eyes roam over him and you can’t unsee how beautiful he is even in the darkness. “What is it?” he asks after you have been literally staring at him. Your words catch in your throat as you hesitate to say it. But eventually you do so.

“You are so beautiful, Wil…” The words slip from your lips faster than you could even think about. Wil chuckles and his cheeks flush. “I don’t think the tea I gave you should have hallucinating effects.” he whispers. “And now go to sleep, you deserve rest.”

Wil opens his eyes, blinking few times to adjust to the morning light. The first thing he notices when he wakes is unfamiliar warmth. For a moment, he doesn’t remember; why? Why there is a soft weight of another body against his, why is his arm draped around someone? Why is the steady rise and fall of the breath so close.

Wil glances down and sees you. You’re still asleep, your head resting lightly against his bare chest. At some point in the night you must have shifted closer, and without thinking about it he must have pulled you closer. Now, one of his arms is wrapped around your body, his hand resting at the curve of your waist beneath the blankets.

He should move. Wil knows this. He should shift away before you wake up, before you realize it. But he doesn’t. Instead, he watches you, listening to the steady rhythm of your soft breathing.

In sleep, you look much different… Softer, peaceful in a way Wil haven’t seen you yet. When he found you, you have been all weary and exhaustion all over your face, barely holding yourself together. Now, here in his hut, in his arms, you simply look… safe and comfortable .

And in this moment something deep in his chest tightens at the thought. It’s unfamiliar feeling, something he never felt before. It’s not just the healer in him recognizing someone needs care. It’s something more. Something so unspoken yet so obvious.

A realization hits him as he watches your sleeping and unconscious state. He wants to protect you. Not just because you are injured and have nowhere to go, not just because you are practically alone. He wants to be the one you can trust in.

His fingers twitch slightly where they rest against your waist. He could move away now, could put space between the both of you before you wake up and eventually see something in his eyes he is not ready to confess.

But then you murmur something in sleep, pressing closer against him. And just like that, any thought of moving from you disappears. Let her sleep, he thinks for himself. Just a little longer. And so, for the first time in longer than he can remember, he stays still. Holds you close to him. He feels the need to be there for you. To care about you.

[salty-autistic-writer]

Tommy can't believe how fast everything happens. (tw: mcd)

Tommy gasps in shocked delight when the back of his head hits the wall with a dull thud. Evan is breathing into his ear, frantic and hot.

“Hm. Sorry. Fuck, Tommy. Can I …”

“Yeah.” Tommy is already tilting his head to the side, giving Evan more space to kiss, nibble, bite.

The answer is always yes when it comes to Evan. That’s probably a bit pathetic.

And this is probably a bad idea.

Tommy couldn’t care less. He doesn’t have the energy to think straight. Not when Evan is touching him like this. With this burning hunger in his eyes and his tongue sticking out between his teeth, grinning and laughing and moaning and begging, please, please, please.

Not when he breathes out Tommy’s name like a prayer. “Tommy. God. Tommy …”

Yes. Say my name, Tommy thinks, and he runs his fingers over Evan’s back, feeling the faint scratches his nails leave behind. His marks. Say my name.

He missed this.

And later, when he struggles to find a comfortable position to sleep in on the mattress, with Evan already snoring, his hair a mess, drool drying on his chin and his face relaxed, making him look so soft and young, Tommy wonders what this means.

He wonders so much, he buys a bottle of champagne and feels stupid when he leaves without it.

* Evan doesn’t call. But he sends a long text. 

It’s a lot of rambling about too many changes happening at the same time, being scared of being lonely, and about how it’s unfair that he used Tommy to feel something familiar for once.

It ends with: I’m sorry.

I’m not, Tommy thinks, closing the chat without writing anything. He thinks of the champagne in the fridge of Eddie's old house. A part of him is delighted at the idea of Evan finding it and feeling guilty all over again. He thinks of the hiss Evan let out when Tommy’s nail scratched a little too deep. I’m not sorry. I hope it still burns.

* “I did it for Chimney,” Tommy says, letting his voice sound as cold as possible, even though his heart is already fluttering like it always does in Evan’s presence. Stupid little thing.

Evan’s face falls. “Oh. Yeah. That’s fair,” he says quietly, looking away.

And Tommy can’t.

He can’t.

What did you do to me? I can’t even be mean. Never had a problem with that. Not if I wanted to be.

“And for you,” he admits. Damnit. But it’s true. Of course it’s true.

Evan looks at him, his eyes lighting up, his mouth opening in surprise and awe and … God. He’s so cute.

If it wasn’t for the military chasing them and for the fact that this time, Tommy probably won’t get out of this without consequences, he might have tried to kiss Evan.

* Bobby Nash is dead.

He is dead, and Tommy watches Evan break down in a hallway, wailing and writhing and despairing.

Bobby Nash is dead.

Tommy is so numb, he barely reacts when he’s told he will lose his license for the time being. There will be investigations, some people in uniform say sternly. And he doesn’t care.

Because Bobby Nash is dead, Evan is curled up on a cold floor, and Tommy can’t even hug him.

Bobby Nash is dead and they’re all alone with their grief.

Tommy stares at the monitor, watching as a couple of paramedics in hazmat suits try to get Evan to uncurl. He stares, hugs himself, and wonders how it all went downhill so fast.

(AO3 Link)

[katethetank]

Possession of the Heart - Chapter 10

Rating: 18+ minors gtfo Chapter Summary: Steve meets Wayne, and the pup makes its grand entrance CW: Mpreg, pregnant sex, labor, birth, and all the gore that comes with it, breastfeeding Pairing: Alpha!Eddie x Omega!Steve Word Count: 3.7k

Chapter 9<<Masterlist>>Chapter 11

Wayne Munson is a stern and quiet man. That is, at least, what Steve has been led to believe by the stories told to him. 

The morning after his arrival in Hawkins, Steve awakes to a knocking at the cabin door. He is sadly alone in Eddie’s bed, but the smell of sausage cooking on the stove makes up for it. He sits up from his comfortable spot on the mattress and blushes when the blanket falls around him and reminds him of his nudity. He had never slept without bedclothes on, much less with another person. The thought of Eddie’s body against his makes him flush with desire, and he forces himself to shake the image from his mind when he hears the murmur of two voices.

He searches for something appropriate to wear, but can’t recall where he unpacked everything the previous evening. He settles on a pair of Eddie’s pants from a matching set of bedclothes, soft cotton with blue and white stripes that he has to tie low on his hips, and a work shirt that just barely covers his belly, but is loose enough on the top that it keeps slipping off his shoulder. He feels quite the fool as he shuffles across the wood floor and the bottoms of the pants completely cover his feet. 

But he reminds himself that he’s not in high society anymore, and maybe it’s not so terrible to be seen when one is not completely put together. He’s also pregnant and hungry, and that sausage smells too good to not investigate.

Steve quietly opens the door to a conversation between Eddie and a man with a southern drawl.

“-promise I’ll introduce you when he’s up and has had some breakfast. He just needs his rest, Wayne.”

“Dang it Ed, I got nothing against your boy sleepin’ after travelin' so far. Just wish you weren’t bein’ so squirrely about him. You been telling everyone who’ll listen about this Omega of yours, I think it’s only right I get to put a face to the name.”

“And you will! There’s just…a lot that’s happened and I want to make sure he feels safe here, and that he’s fed and rested before he meets everyone.”

“I ain’t everyone, you little shit.”

“I know that, old man! I meant people like Joyce, and her whole pack.”

“Why would Joyce be comin’ around?”

Steve feels bad for eavesdropping, and that name rings a bell from yesterday, so he steps out of the room and startles both men asking, “She’s the midwife, right?”

Eddie’s eyes land on him and trail down his body, the shirt slipping again off his shoulder, the material stretched over his belly and most likely a peek of the bottom sliver he couldn’t quite cover, the pants tied around his hips, and flopping over his feet. A fond smile spreads on his face. 

Wayne, on the other hand, looks stunned and his eyes are locked onto Steve’s midsection. There’s a moment where he feels like the man he’s been told so many stories of will make a face of disapproval or have some stern words to say to him. But then he lights up and barks out a laugh.

“Damnit, Ed! Why didn’t you tell me I’m gonna be a Grandpappy!”

Wayne makes his way over to Steve with open arms and wraps him in a warm embrace. He’s momentarily frozen in place before he returns the affection and breathes in the comforting scent of pine and leather. When Wayne lets go, he holds Steve by the shoulders and looks him over, spotting the bite on his neck.

“Well I’ll be. My boy’s bonded and has a pup on the way. Let me be the first to welcome you to the family, son.”

Steve feels his cheeks flame and gives a demure nod of his head. “Thank you sir. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Munson.”

Wayne looks at Eddie over his shoulder and smirks. “This one’s got manners, huh? You could learn a thing or two.” He turns back to Steve and pats his shoulder before letting go. “No need to be so formal, Steve. Just call me Wayne. You’re family now, so none of that sir stuff either, you hear me?”

“Yes si- I mean, yes Wayne.”

He chuckles and walks back to the kitchen, taking over the frying of sausages as Eddie comes over and cups his face, kissing him slow and sweet. “Good morning, princess. God, you look so precious in my clothes. Did you get enough sleep?”

Princess. He’s never been called that before and finds that he quite likes it. “I did, yes. Waking up alone wasn’t too pleasant, but I think you can make it up to me with some of those sausages.”

Eddie laughs and kisses his forehead. “Coming right up, darling. I’ve got potatoes and fried eggs too.”

Steve hums his approval and takes a seat at the kitchen table. Soon he’s joined by both Munson men and they dig into their breakfast. Steve is so grateful that his appetite is returning, because everything is delicious and a far cry from his toast and soft boiled egg he’s used to having at the manor.

Wayne holds off on any of his questions until Steve’s cleaned his plate and stolen a sausage or two off of Eddie’s. 

“So tell me, Steve. How’d you manage to make it out to Hawkins? Ed told me about that Hagan fella. Sounds like he wasn’t too keen on letting you go.”

“Wayne,” Eddie scolds.

“It’s ok, Eddie. You’re right Wayne, he wasn’t. It’s a long story, and still a bit difficult to discuss. But I was able to find some documents that stated some clauses in our marriage contract I wasn’t aware of, and proof that there were grounds to have it dissolved. I owe a debt of gratitude to Dr. Owens and Judge Newby. They were able to help me and had the deputy serve papers to Tommy telling him our marriage was over. They saved me, and got me the money to get a train ticket to Indianapolis. I don’t know what I would have done if…if…” A tear falls down his cheek and Eddie is quick to get out of his chair and take a knee next to Steve, offering comfort by rubbing his back and holding his hand.

Wayne clears his throat and shakes his head. “You’ve said enough, Steve. Sounds to me like you had some guardian angels watching over you. I’m glad you’re here, son. It’s no manor, but the farm is peaceful and quiet. It’ll be a real nice home for you and your pup.”

“Thank you, Wayne. I think so too.”

In the following weeks, Steve gets himself settled in the cabin, making sure his clothes are put away where he can remember, and gets acquainted with some of the residents of Hawkins. He meets the neighbor from down the road, Mrs. Henderson, who reminds him much like Wayne to just call her Claudia. Her son Dustin is a friend of Will’s, and seems to enjoy walking over to the farm regularly to follow Eddie around like a lost puppy while he works, telling him of all the things he’s learning in school about science and mathematics. He’s a brilliant boy, and Steve can’t help but laugh at the look of exasperation on Eddie’s face when he comes running up the road.

Claudia is warm and welcoming, and Steve finds out that she’s a seamstress in town. She promises Steve to show him some tips on expanding the stitches in his clothes to make room for his growing belly when she finds out that he enjoys embroidery and is no stranger to sewing needles.

He also has the pleasure of meeting the midwife Joyce when she found out from her boys of Steve’s condition, and came rushing over to introduce herself and ask him every question under the sun about his pregnancy. She’s energetic and talkative, and Steve takes a liking to her immediately. She’s much like the mother he wishes he had, especially when he finds himself being hugged by her every time they see each other. 

Her husband Jim is the sheriff and something in Steve settles knowing that there’s a strong and noble Alpha protecting the town. Jim’s daughter Elenore, or El as she prefers to be called, is part of Will and Dustin’s group of schoolmates and was so excited to meet Steve when she learned of the pup. She politely asked if she could feel his belly, and he obliged. She looked up at him with big eyes and a soft smile and told him, “It’s a boy,” before scampering off with her friends.

He eventually meets the whole gaggle of pups, and is delighted by all of them. Mike is the younger brother of Nancy, the Alpha he learned of from Jonathan on his ride into Hawkins. He’s a bit moody and doesn’t give away much, but clearly has a love for all his friends. Lucas is a sweet and respectful boy, and spends half of his time with his eyes on Maxine, or Max and she insisted Steve call her. She’s as bullheaded as a child can be, and he takes much joy in watching her boss the boys around. 

The community here seems rather tightly knit and Steve is amazed by all of it. He was never raised in circles where people knew each other so well and genuinely cared for each other. It’s refreshing to be among people who see him as one of their own. Part of a pack. They keep him busy and entertained, and he finds that the days pass quickly as he makes a new home for himself and his pup.

In early June, after a night where Steve rides Eddie twice, milking his knot for all it’s worth, he wakes up with a dull ache in his lower belly that quickly intensifies. It’s gone as soon as it arrives, but returns again even stronger. From what Joyce told him to look out for, he believes this is the start of his contractions. He shakes Eddie awake and tells him to run to the house and ring Joyce, that he thinks it’s time for their pup to make its grand entrance. 

Eddie paces the cabin helplessly as Joyce and Jonathan get everything set up for the birth. All he can do is stay by Steve’s side as the contractions hit and hold his hand through the pain. Steve has long lost any clothing and only wears a simple robe to cover himself. However, as the contractions increase in intensity and frequency, his body flushes and the feel of cloth on his skin is unbearable. Joyce moves him to the bedroom where towels have been laid out on the floor and a cloth is tied to the bedpost. She explained to him prior to going into labor that the best way to ease the baby out is by squatting, and the cloth can be used to pull on and steady himself as he pushes. 

Once they’re in the room, Steve tears the offending robe off, and Jonathan tries gently to get Eddie to wait in the sitting room or out on the porch. His Alpha is having none of it, and vowed to Steve when they married at the courthouse that he would stay by his side and protect him at every moment. Childbirth included, evidently. Joyce has never had a husband present for a birth before and forgoes shooing Eddie out in favor of tending to Steve. 

As the moment arrives and Steve is guided to squat over the towels, Eddie kneels by his side, holding the hand not gripping onto the cloth. Following Joyce’s instructions, he bares down and pushes as the next several contractions overwhelm him. Naked, exhausted, in pain, and screaming, Steve feels the moment his pup is released into the world, caught by the loving hands of Joyce Byers. 

Small cries fill the room and it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard. Holding up his pup, whose lungs are working quite well for the first time as they protest their eviction from the dark and warm home it’s known so well, Joyce smiles at Steve with shining eyes. “Congratulations, sweetie. You have a son.”

Steve bursts into tears and collapses to his knees. Eddie is quick to brace him and shuffles behind him to let Steve rest on his lap, careless of any mess that’s surrounding them. He holds Steve close and sobs into his neck, kissing his bare shoulder and telling how proud he is, how much he loves them. 

Jonathan is quick to wrap the wiggling pup in a towel and stays close as the placenta is delivered. Eddie takes the honor of cutting the umbilical cord and Joyce expertly ties it off. Then they finally hand the little bundle into Steve’s waiting arms. He’s so tiny, still covered in blood and fluids, wrinkled skin, and eyes that are barely open as he takes in the world around him for the first time. He’s perfect.

“Welcome little one,” Steve chokes out through a sob.

Jonathan helps clean the pup while Joyce and Eddie help Steve into the bed where more towels have been laid out. Eddie takes over his care and gently cleans where he can as Joyce and Jonathan check over the pup to make sure he’s responding well. Once their work is done, he’s unwrapped and laid on Steve’s bare chest. Joyce explained that it helps to regulate the pup’s temperature and bond with Steve’s scent. 

Eddie takes his place next to him on the bed, staring in wonder at the miracle they made together. He gently strokes his fingers over the dark curls on the pup’s head, as soft as the downy feathers of a chick, and kisses his crown. “My son…Stevie, you gave me a son.” A tear falls down his cheek as he locks eyes with Steve. “You’re amazing, princess. I love you so much.” 

“I love you too, Ed.” They kiss and their lips are wet with tears, and it may be the best kiss of Steve’s life. They part when the pup wriggles in his arms and nuzzles his face into Steve’s chest.

“He’s rooting, Steve. That’s a good sign, sweetie. He can smell your milk and he’s trying to find where it is.” Joyce helps to turn the pup in his arms so he’s facing Steve’s body, and assists in getting him to latch correctly. Once he’s settled, she drapes a blanket over them both and lets them enjoy this new bond. It's such a strange sensation, having this brand new little person knowing exactly what to do, as he suckles at Steve’s breast. He’s in absolute awe. 

When he’s done nursing, Eddie takes the pup so Joyce can examine Steve and make sure there’s no tearing. She tells him everything looks good and he’ll benefit from staying in bed as much as possible while his body heals. They both watch on in amusement as Jonathan teaches Eddie how to fasten a diaper. It only takes four attempts.

The sight of Eddie holding their pup in his arms, the look of pure love and wonder on his face…it’s enough to make Steve fall in love with him all over again. 

Once Steve has had a chance to wash properly in the tub, and is carried back to the bed by his husband, he’s settled into clean linens and the room has been cleared of all the soiled towels and sheets. Joyce and Jonathan make an incredible team, ensuring Steve and the pup are comfortable and well taken care of. She also takes the liberty of preparing some food so Steve can start to regain his strength. It’s nightfall by the time he gets to eat his first meal of the day, and he’s endlessly grateful for the hearty stew and crusty bread.

“So. Now that you three are settled, have you decided on a name?” Joyce takes Steve’s empty bowl and sets it aside, perching herself on the edge of the bed.

Steve looks to his husband. “Whatever you’d like, Alpha. He’s your son.” That was always the expectation in the world he grew up in. Alphas had naming rights to their pups, especially the first one, and even more so if it were a son.

Eddie gives him a funny look and kisses his temple. “He’s your son too, my love. You grew him. You carried him and brought him into this world. It’s only right that you choose his name.”

Steve is taken aback by Eddie’s willingness to hand this duty over to him. His looks down at the sleeping pup in his arms and a whirlwind of masculine names swirl in his head. But he keeps landing on one. “What about Samuel? We could call him Sam.”

Eddie strokes his fingers through the baby’s soft curls and mulls it over. “Sam…Samuel Munson. I quite like that. What made you think of that name, love?”

“It’s in honor of Dr. Owens…Samuel Owens. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him.”

Tears spring up in Eddie’s eyes and he kisses Steve before leaning down and kissing their pup. “It’s perfect. Any ideas for a middle name, darling?”

“Of course. Wayne.”

Eddie laughs quietly and shakes his head. “You’re going to make that old man cry, sweetheart.”

Just then, Jonathan taps his knuckles on the doorframe and pokes his head in. “I hope it’s not a bother. I went up to the house to let Wayne know that the pup is here and everyone is well. He insisted on following me back, but if you’re not ready for visitors I can send him away.”

Steve shakes his head and smiles. “It’s no bother at all, thank you Jonathan. Can you send him in?”

Joyce and Jonathan leave the room to give them a moment alone with Wayne. He looks timid when he steps in, like he’s uncertain if he should be there or not, and his eyes are already watering. “Heard tell there’s a new Munson in here.”

Eddie carefully climbs off the bed and greets Wayne with a tight embrace and firm pat to the back. “There sure is, pops. Come meet your new grandson.” He guides Wayne closer to the bed with a hand on his back and looks every bit the proud father.

“Well I’ll be. He’s got your hair, Ed. Sweet little thing, ain’t he?”

Steve looks up at him and tilts his head. “Do you want to hold him?”

It takes a moment of adjusting, being it’s been over twenty years since Wayne properly held a baby, but they get the pup settled in his arms easily enough not to wake him. Wayne stares down with that same look of wonder Eddie has and takes in all the little features of his new grandson. “So, this little fella have a name yet?”

Eddie looks to Steve with a raised brow and nods at him to answer.

“It’s Sam. Samuel Wayne Munson.”

Wayne’s breath catches and he tries to turn away to hide the tears that well in his eyes, but he can’t with a newborn in his arms. He laughs through a sob and lets the tears fall. “Well shoot. Y’all didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to. You welcomed me into your family and your home, you’ve shown me nothing but kindness. You’ve cared for me more than my own father ever did. I wanted Sam to carry your name.”

Leaning down and kissing Sam’s little button nose, Wayne takes a deep breath. “Well it’s an honor, son. And you did real good with this pup here. He’s beautiful.”

In the weeks that follow, Joyce stays at the house with Wayne so she can check in on Steve and Sam regularly and provide any care that’s needed. Eddie surprises him by taking charge of diaper duty and waiting on Steve hand and foot. The Munson cabin is often occupied by visitors wanting to congratulate the little family on their new member, and to get a chance to hold Sam. All the kids who tend to linger around the farm bothering Eddie take an immediate shine to him, and he’s often passed around from one to the next and fawned over like the little doll he is. And Steve constructs a new nest with scented items from all the people in their pack.

He never had the luxury of so many loving and caring people. It overwhelms him at times, this feeling of family and safety. But he welcomes it with open arms, knowing that he chose this for himself, a life where he belongs to the people around him, just as they belong to him.

Steve found a peace here that he didn’t know was possible. Since he returned to the arms of his Alpha, his heart began to settle and heal. He had gone through so much torment to get where he is, and thinks often of the people who helped him. After writing to Dr. Owens letting him know of his safe arrival in Hawkins and the announcement of little Sam, and thanking him for all he did to save them, he receives a letter in return informing him of what happened in the wake of his departure.

Judge Newby called for the immediate arrest of both Tommy and Billy. Because of his disgraceful actions and attempting to cover up his infertility, the Hagans disinherited their son. They reclaimed the estate and removed him from all future business dealings. It would be hard for him to conduct business from a jail cell anyway.

There is no mention of Steve’s parents. 

He finds it’s just as well. All the family he needs is right here, in this cabin, on this farm, in this small town that he is proud to call home. His heart will continue to heal every day, surrounded by people who truly care for him, and held tight in the loving arms of his Alpha.

Chapter 9<<Masterlist>>Chapter 11

*********************************************

One happy little family!

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