#glad i went in preparing for the worst

[zeb-z]

dude. foolish surviving a 3v1 inside a tiny obsidian box for over a minute, taking away most of the eggs health with phil before dying for the first time. making nuisance of himself, playing smarter not harder, operating as a distraction with half a heart and a dream as phil deals the final blows. then him and cellbit’s collaboration on their base, the large build and crazy fucking lava maze and decoy obsidian boxes making it impossible for the other team to destroy their egg in return. red team winning not by being the better pvp team, but by playing to their strengths - building, strategy, communication, and complete and utter chaos. they started preparing early, they made weapons, they built extensively and prepared traps and decoys. and with their gas masks and bombs and chainsaws and complete refusal to give up, they had to have been terrifying. if they played the tower defense strategy, they would have lost faster than green had. if they had spent time getting just armor and gear and none actually working on their base, they would have lost worse than blue. the red team won by playing smarter, grinding their ass off, and by turning the playing field into incomprehensible chaos even they couldn’t navigate. they didn’t even know where their egg was and they defended it perfectly. it was a well earned victory today - here’s to hoping there’s no repercussions

[mercedista]

𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐇, 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓⠀⠀⠀→⠀⠀⠀𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘:⠀A killer breaks into your room, except he doesn't kill you. Well, that's one of the pros of being his girlfriend, even if you don't know that behind the mask is your boyfriend.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒):⠀Porn with plot, horror, non-con, dub-con, mention of murder, threat, poor smut, squirting, toxic relationship.

𝐀/𝐍: Part one for more context. Also, I haven't proofread the content, I don't have any experience with smut and English is not my first language. Keep it in mind.

"Open your fucking mouth, before I make you pay for what you did with your own life." Not that there was any other option, he gave your cheek a light slap, just as a silent warning, and as soon as you opened it, he stuck his fingers in. It was a disgusting sensation for you, that glove rubbing against your tongue as you were forced to watch him use his other hand to open a little of the cape he was wearing and then his own pants.

You knew what to expect, and your vision became blurry again with tears.

He took his fingers out of your mouth and pushed the back of your head against his cock. You didn't want to notice, much less compare, but there was no way you couldn't, he was big. Maybe as big as your boyfriend.

"You've lost your choice, slut." Your thoughts were interrupted by his cock entering until he felt your throat squeezing it. You fought against it, not having prepared yourself, and not having any experience. You didn't know if that pain was normal, if it was his exaggerated size, or just the result of him being too violent with the thrust.

He held your head against him for a few seconds, before letting go and allowing you to catch your breath. But as soon as you recovered – a matter of only five seconds – he was already making you swallow his cock again. "Back to work."

At least he seemed to be having a little more mercy now, continuing to pump your head on his cock, while he threw his back each time your tongue dragged against a vein of his. His hair was already sweaty beneath that mask. "Fuck...!"

His breathing was heavy, but his throat was still forced to wait a few minutes that seemed more like hours until he finally reached his peak.

You were already dizzy, your head hurting, when he pushed your head back, ordering you to stick your tongue out. "I'm going to paint your pretty lips, baby."

The salty splashes touched your tongue, you felt disgusting, you wanted to spit it all out. Not because of the taste, but because of the guilt you felt for being used, even though you had no responsibility for it. "It's not over yet, doll."

Pulling you by the neck, he threw you on the bed, your face sinking against the pillow, while you only heard the clink of more parts of his clothes falling to the floor. "Please, just kill me already... I can’t–" You begged one last time, sobbing, fearing the worst that was to come.

"Don't cry, princess." He said, his voice surprisingly human now. And definitely familiar, more than you would have expected. You felt his hands turn your body, and through the tears that blurred your vision, you recognized the face of your dear boyfriend. If you could still call him that. "Surprise, I guess?" The look of horror that once again crossed his face was divine, and even better with the small sobs that passed through his lips.

"Did I scare you? I went easy on you, baby. I've done worse to my victims." He said, spreading your legs. Without any warning, he thrust into you, a growl escaping his lips as he felt your walls clench around his cock. "But you know... I'm faithful, I've never fucked them like that, if that makes you feel any better."

He wasn't being as delicate with his thrusts as his tone of voice was deceiving, his skin slapping against yours without any mercy. Your boyfriend bit the tip of his glove, ripping it off and throwing it to the side, leaving his bare hand to slap dangerously close to your clit. "I'm glad... that you chose to stay faithful as well..." He said, giving a particularly violent thrust, which made you grunt between sobs. He pressed his uncovered face against your neck, nibbling on it as he continued to fuck you. "I didn't mean to test you, but hell...! I fucking love you."

He said smiling. Your faces were so close, he squeezed your waist. You felt his tongue lick a tear that ran down your cheek. He loves you alive and well, of course, despite his sadism. But, the thought of you cheating on him just to save yourself? He would kill you before you had the chance to do that. "Fuck." He bit his lip. "Such a good little fucktoy. Taking my cock like a champ. You're still as tight as the day I fucked you for the first time."

You closed your eyes, trying to find some semblance of sanity amidst the whirlwind of thoughts and feelings that were running through your body at that moment.

"Aw, baby, look at me. Think of how good..." His boyfriend paused, moaning. "How good it feels now... There are no more secrets between us. Like it always should have been."

"You're a damn murderer... you lied to me...!" You snapped, biting your lip then to make a moan die in your throat. "And now you expect... me to forgive you–"

You were interrupted by a sudden movement, he turned you around again, without even making much effort, and put you on all fours. "Silence, now. For someone who was crying minutes ago, you're talking too much." He grunted, slapping your ass, rubbing his cock, still hard, against it. "Shut your pretty mouth, or I'll fuck the little hole you don't like."

He chuckled at the irritated noise you made before he slid his cock back into your entrance. "Now why don't we start over, and you thank me for being a good boyfriend and not opening your throat with a knife after that kick?"

You feel a mix of emotions swirling inside you as he hugs you waist, pressing his body against your back. The pain from his rough thrusts is intertwined with a sickening sense of pleasure, and the realization that he's truly capable of such violence sends shivers down your spine.

"Too... much..." You manage to choke out, your voice barely audible above the sound of your boyfriend's grunts and the creaking of the bed.

He seems to take pity on you, or perhaps he's simply enjoying watching you tremble and humiliate youself. Either way, he slow down a bit, but continues to pound into you, his grip on your hips tightening. "That's a good girl," he purrs, his breath hot against your ear. "You're learning your place." As he speaks, you feel his cock twitch inside you, and you know he's close to climax. "God, I can't even imagine what it's like to fuck your ass..."

Tears stream down your face as you try to hold back your orgasm, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much you're enjoying being used. But it's no use; the pleasure is too intense, and you feel yourself teetering on the edge.

Suddenly, he pulls out of you, and you feel cold and empty without him inside. Before you can protest, he flips you over onto your back and climbs on top of you, pinning your wrists above your head.

He leans down and captures your lips in a bruising kiss, his tongue invading your mouth and claiming you in the most intimate way possible. "You're so easy to play around with, like a doll, so easy for me to put you in any position." At the same time, he lines up his cock with your entrance and slams back inside, burying himself to the hilt in one movement. The pain from his grip on your wrists mixes with the pleasure of his cock hitting your sweet spot.

He let go of your wrists and reaches around to grab your breast, squeezing it roughly. "Tell me, have you ever let another man touch you like this?"

You shake your head frantically. "No..." You whimper.

He chuckles darkly, his hand sliding down to rub your clit. "Good... good fucking answer." he purrs, his fingers circling the sensitive nub. "Because if you ever let another man touch this tight little cunt, I'll fucking kill you."

His words send a shiver down your spine, and you can't help but wonder if he's serious. But the thought of him being jealous and possessive only turns you on more. And you hated yourself for it.

"Oh?" He mocks, giving your cunt a sharp slap. "Did you just get tighter? You fucking freak." Your boyfriend couldn't help but smile at his pretty girl.

"Y-You're imagining things..." You try to deny it, saving a shred of dignity that was still left, but it was just so hard, you can feel every inch of his cock as it slides in and out of your sore, sensitive flesh. 

He bites down on your shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark, and you cry out. "I don't have time to baby you," he growls, his hips snapping against yours with brutal force.

Right now, he was only concerned with his own orgasm. Maybe he himself was already tired of all that edging. You can feel your orgasm building, your walls clenching around his throbbing cock as he drives into you relentlessly. Just as you're about to reach your peak, he pulls out, leaving you empty and desperate, his cock spurting cum all over your pussy and stomach. It made you tremble just with the mere contact of his tip over your clit.

Even without having reached your orgasm, you were dizzy from all the stimulation and tired, without much strength to move. So you were expecting the same from him, but a few seconds after cumming, he was already moving again, making you groan. He moves down your body, his tongue tracing a path from your neck to your belly.

"Aw, my poor baby..." he coos, his breath hot against your skin. "You didn't get to cum, did you?"

You shake your head weakly, too exhausted to form words. He smiles at you, his eyes filled with a wicked gleam. You were already too tired to fight, and you just wanted to cum already, it didn't matter if you had to beg or cry for it.

You can feel the heat of his breath as he moves lower and lower, until he's positioned between your legs. He spreads them, exposing your sensitive, swollen clit. He takes a moment to admire his handiwork, the sight of your glistening pussy making his cock twitch with renewed interest

"Look at you," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "So desperate." He dips his head down and starts to lap at your clit, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. You moan, your hips bucking up against his face as he continues to tease you. He chuckles, the vibrations sending shivers through your body.

He slips a finger into your pussy, pumping it in and out as he continues to suck on your clit. You can feel your orgasm building once again, your walls clenching around his finger as he works you closer to the edge.

Your boyfriend increases the pressure on your clit, his tongue flicking rapidly against the sensitive bundle of nerves, your body tensing as you prepare for the inevitable release. Your hand went to his hair, fingers tangling with his beautiful locks, he chuckled against your pussy, before going back to his work. You barely had time to warn him, your body shook in ecstasy as you felt yourself squirt. Your heart was racing and your vision was blurry, your chest rising and falling in search of air.

Your boyfriend's eyes widen in surprise as he feels your pussy clench and release around his finger, your juices gushing out and coating his chin. He pulls back, looking up at you with a mixture of shock and excitement on his face. His voice woke you up from your trance.

"Holy shit, did you just squirt?" he exclaims, his voice filled with awe and disbelief. "I've never seen you do that before!"

He grins at you, his face glistening with your juices, and you can't help but feel a sense of pride at the effect you've had on him. He looks like a kid on Christmas morning, his eyes sparkling with joy and anticipation. "That was so fucking hot!" he says, his voice filled with enthusiasm. "I want to see you do it again." He was already going back between her legs.

"No, no, no! Fuck, I am sensitive, you dumbass...!" Your mind barely processed what you said, and when you realized it, you didn't expect him to listen to you, but he did. With a sad exaggerated expression, but he obeyed, at least.

"Aw, but I was having so much fun." he pouts, his lower lip jutting out in an exaggerated display of sadness.

He crawls up your body, resting his head on your chest, his ears pressed against your heart. You can feel his breath, warm and steady, rising and falling with each beat of your heart.

"I'm sorry, baby..." he murmurs, his voice soft, but you knew it was just another one of his attempts at manipulation. You were already used to it enough to recognize it. "I just wanted to play around a bit, I didn't expect things to unfold this way."

"Be quiet or get out of here." You snapped, eyes closing. "You better kill me before I wake up with energy again, because you're going to pay for all this shit."

He faced you, his hand resting on your waist as he observed how upset you were. Which, to be fair, he should have expected. "Come on, baby," he murmured, as if he were pleading for you to talk to him, but it only sounded like mocking. "I made you cum, didn't I?"

When you didn't answer him, he continued. "We both know you'll forgive me before the morning, princess."

Of course he expected you'd let him get away with this. As you always did. But he didn't blame you—he would always find a way to manipulate you, because it suited him so much more.

"You'll be lucky if I even look you in the face after all this, let alone forgive you." You said and covered yourself with the blanket, pushing him away from you and laying with your back to him.

He clicked his tongue in annoyance, having to resist the urge to roll his eyes. He knew you'd give in and forgive him... eventually.

"That's cute." He said, with a scoff. "You act like you have any choice." He said, standing up and picking up his clothes. He stared at his mask, wondering whether to take it or not, but smiled, deciding to leave it as a reminder for you.

[grandline-fics]

Hi I'm so in love w your blog I love your writings 💙 n e ways I was wondering if you would write a small multiple character fic w luffy and zoro when you hide an injury💙 tyyy

DESCRIPTION: You hide an injury

WARNINGS:  light injury description but nothing bad

CHARACTERS: Zoro, Luffy

WORDS: 1,268

A/N: I'm so glad you like my writing and thank you for the request. I hope this was to your liking!

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

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ZORO

He’d told you not to push yourself. He warned you the dangerous of training beyond your limits so soon after a battle. Zoro told you to listen to your body and like a fool you wanted to prove to him you were strong, that you could do it. You should have listened because when you made the next rep in your training you felt the pull in your back and the pain jolted through you to the point your eyes blurred with tears, the air was slammed out of your lungs. The weight dropped out of your hand loudly and you stumbled back to the window seat closest to you, shuddering out slow, shallow breaths as you tried to calm yourself from the initial shock. By the time the hatch opened and Zoro’s head appeared you’d managed to control your expression. “What happened?”

“N-nothing.” You insisted, still breathless that you hoped you could just pass off as tiredness from the training. “Was getting tired and the weight slipped. Just catching my breath.” Zoro watched you carefully as he entered the Crow’s Nest fully and approached you, his keen stare never moving from your face. You met his gaze as much as you could and tried to seem as relaxed as possible even though the pain was still spasming in your back. Yes, you’d endured harsher injuries in countless battles and you would recover from this without any issue. All you needed to do was take it slow and easy and rest. The only problem was managing to keep it hidden from Zoro to avoid him getting smug about you not listening to him.

“Looks like you’ve caught your breath, you going to start up again?” Zoro asked casually, jerking his head back towards the weight on the ground. “Seems like you weren’t finished.”

“Uhh I would continue but that’s a heavier weight than I’m used to. Better to quit while I’m ahead right? Last thing we need is an injury.” You forced out with a tight smile, stiffly getting to your feet and heading towards the hatch. It wasn’t until you were nearly there that you realised you’d have to stoop down to lift it open and make the climb down and you felt like crying or cursing. Just as you prepared to do what would bring you more pain, Zoro’s arm wrapped around your waist gently to keep you upright. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“Stopping you from hurting yourself anymore than you already have.” You tensed at that and let your eyes slide closed in slight annoyance that he already knew. Zoro had a talent of seeming laid-back and unobservant when really he was taking everything in, you hated that about him but also admired him for it. For now though your pride was wounded along with your back and you couldn’t help but pout when Zoro crouched down to open the hatch before lifting you gently but securely into his hold with one arm before using the other to carry you down the mast. 

When you were safely in your shared room you let out a groan when you lay on the bed. A sigh of relief followed when Zoro’s hand went straight to where the pain was at its worst, applying just the right amount of pressure and care to help your back. It got so good that you could feel yourself beginning to fall asleep but Zoro’s voice saying your name got your attention. Softly you let out a hum to show you were listening. “I told you so.”

LUFFY

You loved Luffy, you truly did. You loved how energetic and fierce he was, how he always had a smile and a laugh for nearly any situation. You loved how serious he got in a fight and how no one, no matter how much bigger they were or how important they were he still faced them head on if they did something to bring his fury on them. What you didn’t like was that sometimes that energy and that fightable spirit remained even when he was asleep. For the most part you managed to get used to it, jumping awake some nights when he let out a yell that he’d kick his dream opponents ass. Other times you’d wake to him bolting upright in the bed, his fist reeled back to throw a punch only for his body to flop back down against the mattress, his sleep undisturbed. 

One night however was one were Luffy’s dream fighting struck hard and more intense than you’d experienced before. When he bolted upright in the bed and yelled out you were tossed onto your back blinking wildly in the dark as you adjusted to being violently woken and trying to make out Luffy’s form. You waited patiently for him to start to make his attack and flop back onto the bed again but this time it didn’t play out the way it usually did. 

Over and over Luffy punched the air, sleepily grunting out attacks and insults. You knew not to wake anyone if they sleep-walked but you weren’t fully sure on those that sleep-fought. You gasped and managed to avoid Luffy’s arm whipping back, hitting the pillow where your head had been mere seconds ago. Cautiously you sat up in the bed and scrambled to think of something, anything to soothe him. Then you did the only thing you could think of.

“Luffy! You won!” You cheered out, loud enough to reach Luffy’s ears but not too loud to wake the others on the ship. You sighed in relief to see the broad grin stretch out across his face and with a sleepy laugh he threw himself backwards. You settled against the pillows and prepared to fall asleep again when Luffy let out a cheer, arms and legs kicking out in celebration. With your eyes closed you didn’t see it coming and you were hit hard with enough force to be knocked awkwardly and painfully onto the floor. On impact you felt your wrist spike with pain and you bit back the urge to cry out. Thankfully you hitting the floor didn’t wake Luffy and you were able to slip back into bed.

When morning came you woke first and were able to change into your clothes for the day, picking a shirt that hid your bruised wrist and forearm from view. You knew nothing was broken and it would heal, it just looked worse than what it was. If anything you were lucky that this was your only injury for facing Luffy. You were prepared to keep a low profile for the day but unexpectedly Luffy appeared behind you so fast and cheer out an excited good morning to you. With a startled yell you spun and put your hand on your chest, the action slipping your sleeve down just enough to show the beginning of the bruise. Luffy’s eyes widened and he reached out to take you hand. “What happened?!”

“Uhh…” You glanced at your hand in his hold and sighed. You couldn’t lie to him. “You pushed me out of bed, hit it on the floor. I’m fi-” You were cut off with a yelp when Luffy lifted you immediately. “Luffy! I’m fine, it’s a bruise.”

“No! You’re taking it easy if you’re injured!”

“It’s just my hand, I can still walk.”

“No! I’m your legs and arms today.” Luffy insisted before grinning at you when you laughed and shook your head in resignation. How could you argue with the Captain when he looked at you like that?

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[importantstudentbusinessspy-blog]

Academia - Alone Together

Masterlist

Pairing: Aged up Damian Wayne x f reader

Tags: NSFW, academic setting, rivals to lovers, friends with benefits, angst, smut, fingering, penetrative, shower sex, edging, ■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

He had his work cut out for him with you, and he would start with getting you alone.

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You sat at the corner of your parents' queen size bed, helping your mother fold her clothes for her upcoming trip.

The day before, your mother was filled with excitement when she entered the kitchen, a huge grin plastered on her face. "We won a free trip to New York!"

Turns out her company had held a lottery for the workers, two two-way tickets to New York City.

"I applied on a whim." Your mother shrugged. "Who would have thought I'd actually get it." Her hopeful gaze went to your dad. "We can visit my mother!"

Your father smiled back. "That's amazing, honey. It would ne good for the two of you to see each other."

The overall happiness of the room didn't infect you, who tensed up as soon as you heard your mother announcing that your parents were going away. You swallowed nervously. "When's the flight?"

Your mother checked the tickets. "October twentieth."

Your pulse spiked. So soon. "That's in two days..." Your shoulders lowered.

"Honey, will you be alright here?" Your father reached for your hand.

No. You wanted to say. But when you saw how eager your mother was at the prospect of visiting your grandmother - who sha ahsnt seen in a year - the word froze in your mouth. "Yes, I'll be fine. You two enjoy your trip."

So here you were, helping your mother carry her suitcase down the stairs. Your father was dressed in his casual flight outfit, fanny pack-clad, as he loaded the trunk of his five year old Toyota sedan on your driveway.

Mama, don't go. You itched to say. What if it's not safe?

You admonished yourself for the childish and selfish thought.

Kissing and hugging your parents goodbye. You can do this, you told yourself. You can stay home alone. You've done it all your life. Why not now?

But when the door closed and the silence took over, bringing with it unease.

You busied yourself with chores. You washed the parkette floor, vacuumed the carpets, and prepared dinner for yourself, all while the tv was blaring in the background, providing some much needed noise. You sent your parents texts asking for updates every hour. You were glad they messaged you that they landed safely, and we're on their way to your grandmother's.

Come evening time, you turned on all of the lights downstairs to drown out the darkness coming in from the windows. It didn't help. The noise blended in with the silence to create a sense of uncertainty, even within the familiar walls of your childhood home. Your breathing grew quick and shallower. You went to your parents' room, closed the door behind yourself, and locked it before taking a seat on the soft carpet floor against it. You tried to calm yourself, steadying your breath. "You're okay, you're okay, you're okay-"

The doorbell rang, making you gasp.

It was him. That man. The awful human being who tied you up, gagged you, and left you drugged and hallucinating your worst fears on the floor of your research lab, with no one able to hear your muffled screams.

Until... he showed up. Robin. Your guardian angel, who tore you from those visions. Who saved and protected you. "He'll come, he'll save me, he will. He will." You convinced yourself, oblivious the heavy footsteps making their way up the second floor.

"Y/n?" Damian’s deep voice muffled through the door you were currently leaning against, making your pulse spike with relief and something else. "Y/n, it's Damian."

The relief washed over you in a smooth wave. You let out a breath and scrambled up and opened the door. You felt extacy as seeing his tall frame so close. Concern etched on his sharp features as those all-knowing green eyes studied you under black hair. Before you could think better of it, you enveloped him into your arms. His warmth was a much welcome sensation against your cold, shivering limbs. Tears threatened to roll out the corners of your eyes as you held onto him like a lifeline.

"Hey, you're okay." His hand came up to cradle your head. It was an oddly comforting gesture from him. So were the reassuring words. You wondered if he'd ever consoled anyone else, consistently repeating, "Everything's okay." Like he was right now, with you.

His voice and touch grounded you in reality, and you managed to pull your breath down to a normal rhythm. He came. He came for you. You were lucky enough to have more than one guardian angel.

"P-please stay," you wispered, not caring how desperate you sounded.

"I'm not going anywhere." His words were a promise.

You let him lead you downstairs and pour you some water. The two of you find a seat in your small kitchen. He sat across from you on the creaky wooden chair as the tea kettle boiled. The entire time, you didn't let go of his hand, so large and safe in your smaller palm. "Would you like some dinner? I made soup."

"Sit. I'll get it." He got up to open the fridge, and you mourned the loss of his touch as you sat back against your chair.

After you and Damian ate the chicken soup you prepared, he got up to put away the plates, freezing mid-step.

"What is it?" You asked.

"Where's your dishwasher?"

"We don't have one." You explained. "Here, let me wash it."

"No, no, I got it." He brought the dishes to the sink, lowering them, then turning back to you. "I'll do it later."

You let out a soft giggle. "You don't have to."

He turned to you, deadpan expression on his face. "You don't think I can wash dishes?"

You shut your lips together, then gave him a shy nod. His tongue poked the side side of his cheek as he raised a brow at you. "Watch this,"

He turned around and got to work, demonstrating to you as he squinted an excessive amount of soap onto the punch and lathered the dishes with it. Then, he rinsed and held them in his hands, unsure of the next steps. You giggled, taking the plates off his hands and setting them down on the drying rack. "If I used thos much soap each time I washed the dishes, we'd be out of money."

You turned to see Damian huff, and a guilt tugged at your nerves. "You did well, though." You hoped the words reassured him.

"Wanna laugh?" He pursed his lips.

You nodded.

"That was my first time washing a dish."

"Yeah, I assumed." You bit your lip.

His gaze traveled to the floor, and he murmered, "Shut up." Eliciting another string of laugher from you.

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Damian stood at your doorstep, his hand reaching out for you as you talked yourself up to take it.

"I want you to come outside with me." He told you a minute ago. "Just to the end of the porch. Then we'll go back home."

You were about to protest, but he gave you a look that told you not to bother.

With the door opened, you nervously searched around the quiet dark street outside your house. The only light came from the streetlights, and the sounds were rustling of leaves. Other than that, the evening was peaceful. Calm. You swallowed nervously, your hand coming to wrap around his.

"There we go," he reassured, stepping backward onto the porch, pulling you with him. Your breath seized as you jerked your hand back, not meaning to.

You met his gaze. He didn't look disappointed or even upset. In fact, he was simply standing there, holding his hand out to you like he was your boyfriend, picking you up for prom.

"Sorry," you shed. "I didn't mean to-"

"I know. Let's try that again." He said quietly. "I'm right here."

You nodded. "You're right here."

"Exactly. Walk to me." He instructed gently. "I'm want to hold you."

Those words had you blushing as you nodded once more. "Okay, okay,"

You took a shaky step and had one food out of the house. Your breathes came fast, but you clenched your muscle, forcing yourself not to go back. "Damian," you called out to him.

"Right here, baby." He answered. "You're doing very well."

"How much more?" Your voice shook as you asked.

"Just down those two steps." He spoke calmly. "I'm so proud of you. You're almost there."

He was proud of you. The thought had your heart speeding out of happiness, not fear this time, and you dared another step down.

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You had sweated profusely and were shivering at the same time. Damian suggested a hot shower would help you calm down.

"Will you stay outside in my room? Please?" You stammered.

He kissed the top of your head and nodded.

After five difficult minutes of sitting on your bed, arms crossed, and leg bouncing in a state, he would describe anything but "calm." Damian got up and opened your shower door.

Damian made his way into the shower, the steam filling his senses as he found you, pouring soap into your hands. He discarded his shirt first. You noticed him, your eyes roaming down his bare upper half. Ridges of muscle never seemed to end, and you blushed again at the thoughts he inspired in you. You didn't say anything, so he lowered his jeans and briefs, slowly stepping into the hot stream with you. He placed a gentle hand on your hip, turning you to face the wall away from him. Pouring some soap into his hands, he began lathering your skin, starting with your back, then making his way around to your chest. Your breath hitched when his hands took your breasts, soap covered thumbs gently gliding over your hardening nipples, making you shudder.

He spent a couple minutes teasing you there. Fingers flicking, pinching, and tickling your nipples. Your back arching against him, hands coming up to press your hands against the wall. "Ah, ah,"

At last, his palm slid down from your breast to cup your core. The sensation had you rolling your head back as you released a breathy moan. "Damian, please, please,"

He breathed heavily against your ear. "What?"

"Please..." You keen searching for the correct words. "... distract me? Make me forget..."

Slowly, his fingers slid down to your core and spread your folds, baring you open, and lining himself up against you before at last, thrusting into you. You welcomed the wonderful stretch with an enthusiastic embrace - your hand coming to hold the nape of his neck behind you. "Mhnn, yes, yes,"

Seeing you like this - so pliable, so desperate - completely conflicted with his original plan coming here. He showed up with a series of excersize in mind to reintroduce you to the idea of safety - of a normal life again, free of fear and paranoia. But of course, he'd gotten carried away the moment he saw you.

Maybe... that's what you - both of you - needed at this moment. He'd been just as eager to get his hands on you as you were at the prospect of being held by him. You wanted a distraction? No problem.

Then, just as you were reaching your climax, all of a sudden, he stopped moving his hand, and his hardness stopped from driving back into you.

You whined at the hugh you were just cut off from. "Damian?" You murmered weakly. "Why'd you stop?"

"You said you wanted a distraction." His response came as if it was obvious. "I plan on making it count."

You shuddered as his breath carresed your shoulder, making your hair rise even in the steaming water. "Oh, please," you moaned. "Please, Dami -"

"Fuck," he groaned at the nickname. His dark arms wrapped around you in a protective embrace, as he moaned, low and dangerous in your ear. He began slowly pushing back into you. "Fuck, I've missed you,"

"Me too." You admitted. "Please, don't stop."

He huffed darkly against your ear. "Say you missed me again, perfect girl. Say it."

"I've missed you."

"Call me 'Dami' again." His fingers were back on your clit and his thrusts picked up again. "Tell me you need me."

"Hnnh, yes, I need you, Dami," you complied, your voices breaking into gasps matching the rhythm of his hips. "So much!"

"Say you'll never leave me again,"

"..."

"... y/n..." His tone was a warning.

"But..." Your voice caught in your throat. You were also caught between unbearable pleasure and your own inner conflict. Your voice broke when you argued, "But that's not fair."

His hand rose to wrap around your throat, though he didnt apply any pressure. "What's not fair?"

"Y- youre the one who didn't want a relationship with me." You stammered.

He pressed his thumb on a vein on your neck, just under your jaw that made your vision go white for a moment. Your head felt light, your thoughts swam and the continued stimulation from his fingers on your clit became much more sensitive as you bucked your hips against him.

"Well, now I do." He declared.

"Well... thats..." You felt your anger rise along with the heartbeat in your chest. It was a feat, balancing lust, anger, and confusion all at once, but you managed somehow. You were very proud of that accomplishment. You weren't proud of the words you used to carry your point across though. "That's dumb, Damian! You're dumb."

Yes. That'll show him, you thought. Especially when all that came from him was silence, shortly followed by a snort of laughter in your ear. His body shook against you. His fingers pausing their ministration on your clit, depriving you of yet. Another. Orgasm. The climax subsided as you clenched around him uselessly. The action had you grumbling in frustration. Here he was, laughing at you while he had you at his mercy. So... cruel!

And you... you little weakling, let him. Let him exercise power of you. Because damn it, it felt good. It's what you needed. All this time without him was wrong. God, he knew exactly how to play you.

So much for feminism. You clutched your hands into fists against the shower wall as a thought occurred. "The water bill is gonna be insane," you complained.

His laughter died down. "If you're thinking about the water bill while we're having sex -"

"Not everyone's rich!" You snapped at him over your shoulder.

Damian could barely contain himself. You were so fucking cute when you were angry. Looking up at him with those glassy eyes that tried too hard to narrow at him. Your pink lips were pouting, too. Inviting all kinds of bad intentions. He loved seeing your resolve crumble.

"Yeah," He gripped your thigh, his tone taunting. "Isn't it great?" He ground out. "You plebs work twenty-four-seven and get nothing, and I get whatever I want."

His fingers returned to your clit, now making rough little circles in excelerating speed. "Speaking of which..."

You weren't propared for the intense wave of pleasure. Your hands didn't know what to hold onto.

"I wanna see you come for me." He wispered against your ear.

"Ask nicely then!" You managed, determined not to indulge him until you got one win. Which was ironic, considering you were edged for the last thirty minutes, and you really, really could use an orgasm.

He let out a chuckle before biting your shoulder. "I wanna see you come for me. Now." The last words were spoken with fake sweetness as he began to thrust into you again. Roughly.

You tried to respond, but words didn't come to you. He'd done what you asked of him - made you forget. The only thing on your mind was his name: "Damian, Damian," which you panted over and over again.

"Gonna sleep so well tonight, baby." He cooed. "Gonna fuck you till you pass out."

You nodded eagerly, feeling that familiar warm feeling start in your core again. "Uh huh, yeah, yeah-"

The long anticipated orgasm had finally reached. You moaned and writhed through it for minutes, as Damian panted and moaned against you, letting the pleasure connect you as a whole.

You fought and lost to your exhation. Slumping against his hard body. You felt yourself be washed with gentle and careful hands, then wrapped in a towel and carried to your twin bed. You felt a silk material brushing against your skin, and guessed Damian must have found the nighty you left for yourself to wear after your shower.

As you were slipping in and out of awareness, your hand rose to hold him, weakly pulling him to you.

Damian dried himself and lay down behind you, wrapping you in his warm arms and turning you towards him. You were petite and fragile in his arms, so innocent and sweet. His brilliant, perfect girl.

As he watched your chest rise and fall with each calm breath you took in your sleep, Damian vowed three things: 1. He wouldn't let anyone else have a view of you like this. 2. He would bring you back to doing what you loved. And 3. He would never let anyone compromise your safety again.

[bachiras-toaster]

Bf!Rin headcanons? 🤭

RIN ITOSHI x gn!reader

authors notes. i am IN LOVE with rin so im glad i wrote this instead of my college essays

╰┈➤ the type of person to keep your relationship strictly private. in fact, it’s because he loves you so much that he wants to keep your relationship private.

╰┈➤ private, not secret.

╰┈➤ it was no surprise to the public when it was discovered that professional footballer, rin itoshi, was dating you, especially since you did have connections to the Itoshi brothers previously anyway.

╰┈➤ from the beginning, the paparazzi pressing on the matter pissed him off. he hated how interviewers would always eventually get to bringing your name up, because it meant that your relationship was starting to be shared with the world.

╰┈➤ but more than that, it was because he had a such a soft spot for you that he couldn’t help but become nervous when people brought you up. and as annoying as the interviewers were, he couldn’t stand to be mad at them when they gave him an excuse to talk about you.

╰┈➤ he’s probably half the reason your relationship wasn’t as private as he’d hoped. he was just such an unintentional blabbermouth.

╰┈➤ when you’re actually with him in public, he tends to get overprotective.

╰┈➤ when you’re in the streets, you need to be holding hands; when you’re at social gatherings, his palm needs to be attached to your hip.

╰┈➤ not just for safety reasons, but he supposed he also needed to constantly remind people that the two of you are together.

╰┈➤ when he realises that he’s getting approached by fans in the street, he’ll subtly hide you behind him so that you’re not pestered, and you’ll watch with a soft smile as rin is forced to take photos and sign autographs.

╰┈➤ despite maintaining a cold facade, he somehow manages to talk do gently when it’s to you.

╰┈➤ if the two of you are at a party he’s clearly uncomfortable being in, he’d slowly scoop your hands into his and plant a gentle kiss on your knuckle before muttering, “it’s getting loud. do you want to leave?”

╰┈➤ honestly, it’s quite impressive how quickly he’s able to switch tones.

╰┈➤ he can go from kindly whispering words of affirmation in your ear to screaming expletives to a random man, threatening to fight him where they stood and ordering him to stop hitting on you.

╰┈➤ rin’s jealousy is actually an unheard of level of rage.

╰┈➤ every time bachira jokes with you, isagi compliments you, or any of his other team members hang out with you one-on-one, it’s like a ticking time bomb in his mind. 

╰┈➤ rin trusts you with all his heart, but his possessiveness is a little louder than his compassion, and he’s rather eat both of his shoes than put you aline in a room with a man that isn’t him.

╰┈➤ he is willing to start the most outrageous scenes over it.

╰┈➤ once, shidou publicly dedicated a shot to you during an important match just to piss rin off, and he went ballistic.

╰┈➤ he had maintained himself on the pitch, but as soon as he reached the locker room, rin was already prepared to pack shidou up and send him to the emergency unit.

╰┈➤ a good fight definitely would have ensued, had he not been stopped by his teammates holding him back.

╰┈➤ plus, you continuously warned him not to fight because you hated seeing him show up to your dates with bruises and marks— his injuries from football were already enough. 

╰┈➤ he hated defying you, but sometimes he just really couldn’t help himself.

╰┈➤ the days where he would literally feel himself freeze before knocking on your apartment door because he knew that his injuries would tell you that he got into another fight were the worst for him.

╰┈➤ because you always looked at him with that certain face of disappointment before simply sighing and letting him in, ready to properly tend to his wounds.

╰┈➤ he’s so gentle when he’s in private with you.

╰┈➤ you could spend hours cradled in his arms, listening to the dulcet mumbles of his voice as he told you about his day.

╰┈➤ when be gets home from a match or training, all he wants to do is cuddle you mindlessly with a tv show in front.

╰┈➤ sometimes he’s mumble about how annoying his teammates were today and how he’s glad he can finally lay down with you.

╰┈➤ to many’s surprise, he’s really the sweetest boyfriend ever.

[ladykailitha]

So I saw this on Facebook and thought it would make a great Steddie fic.

Now the jewelry screams Eddie, but I think that this is bouncer Eddie and drunk Stevie, having been broken up with for the hundredth time and just wanting to get blackout drunk.

Modern AU. Robin is off visiting family when this happens and strictly forbade him from going out. But Steve is out of ice cream and fucks to give so he goes out.

He gets steadily more wasted as the night goes on. He's not even flirting with the hot bartender Chrissy. Which she thinks should feel insulted by, but just really feels sorry for him.

He's a weepy drunk and it's not long afterwards that she cuts him off before he scares off her tips.

She calls over one of their bouncers to get this guy out from under her bar.

Eddie lopes over and picks him up.

They try to get ahold of some of his other friends but they aren't answering, which considering it's well after midnight, Eddie really doesn't blame them for.

But he has a hot mess on his hands and no place to stash him. So he talks to his boss who lets him off early to take care of Steve. Who is definitely NOT sober enough to tell him his address and because he's been kicked out by his girlfriend his wallet really doesn't help (he had been staying at Robin's).

So Eddie takes him home and of course about half way up the stairs to his apartment, Steve empties his stomach EVERYWHERE. All over Eddie's boots, the stairs, but most importantly all over himself.

He manages to make it to his apartment and carefully strips him down to his underwear and socks, removing everything including some small jewelry. He throws the clothes in the washer and then sets about cleaning up any vomit that might still be on the guy and tucks him into bed.

Then he goes about cleaning the vomit up from the hall, he cleans his boots and sets them to dry on the balcony.

Then Eddie starts preparing for the this poor guy's inevitable hangover. Painkillers and water on the nightstand, phone plugged in with a spare charger he had. Wallet and keys next the jewelry in the drawer.

He puts some warm clothes in the top drawer of the dresser, towels on the toilet seat, and making sure there is coffee ready to be brewed for the guy when he wakes up.

Then he goes to sleep himself and wakes up to find the guy still out cold and he has to go to his day job. He feeds Dio his breakfast and takes him out to do his business, but when he comes back and still the guy hasn't woken up. So he types up the note and sets it on the nightstand over top of the guy's phone and heads out.

Two hours later, Steve wakes up to find the worst hangover he's ever had and that includes to the time Robin and Steve decided to do a drinking tour of the world and didn't know you were supposed to spit out after tasting.

He also almost naked and is really freaking out, hoping he didn't have some one night stand because Robin would murder him a second time, after killing him for going out when she told him not to.

Then he sees the note and his heart melts a little at being taken care of then immediately kicks up to 100mph when he realizes who his rescuer is.

The hot bouncer he flirted with the get in the club in the first place.

Shit, shit, shit.

He really needs to leave and needs all of his stuff before he can do that so he reads the note again and re-reads the last paragraph again and again.

Shower, Netflix and doggo? Hmm...

He doesn't work today, that's why he went out drinking in the first place. He could call an Uber to meet him at the main street in the note...

Or...

He could spend the day in comfort and security for once in his life.

He takes the second option and has a lovely time with Dio and messaging Robin.

She's still going to murder him but she's glad he's safe.

Then the owner of said apartment shows up and Steve is really glad he stayed.

They order in and get to know each other a bit more and when he finally gets back to his car and home, he's got a name and a number with the possibility of a date.

Robin absolutely hates his luck. Even more so when she meets Eddie because he's perfect for Steve.

It becomes her funny story at their wedding two years later.

[daycourtofficial]

Laborious anxieties

Eris x Rhysand’s Sister!reader

Summary: based on this request - Eris is riddled with anxiety leading up to your labor, but what happens when some of his worst fears come to fruition?

Author’s note: this is technically a follow-up to A Starfall in Autumn, but could be read as a standalone 🥰 I kinda tore through writing this. I got the request at 7:45 and finished writing at 9:30. Forgive any spelling errors, I have ✨sick brain✨

Warnings: pregnancy, labor, blood loss

The last two weeks of your pregnancy had been a time riddled with anxiety.

You were fine - it was Eris who was unable to stay calm. It felt like a stranger was consuming your mate’s body the way nervousness radiated off of him these days.

And the way he clung to you was very unlike him.

He stepped back from High Lord duties for at least a month, delegating responsibilities amongst his brothers and advisors. He receives a summary of the day’s activities during dinner, and except for a trade agreement his brother signed that was less than advantageous for Autumn, everything was running fine.

Which meant your mate could spend all of his time worrying about you, following you around. He’d gotten so absurd he began having his hounds check you for any abnormalities, doing a ‘daily check’ where they sniffed you to ensure you were okay.

The moment you had told Eris of your pregnancy, his joy was very quickly eclipsed by his very sudden interest in providing you with more security. You had been able to talk him down from the initial twelve guards he wanted trailing you at all times to two guards and at least two of the hounds.

“One hound will stay and defend me, the other one will find you,” you had argued. He relented, but as you got closer and closer to your due date, his attempts at renegotiation were increasing by the day.

You had now agreed to four guards and six hounds with you at all times, unless you were with him.

Between the massive bump on your belly that makes maneuvering around very difficult and the entourage you’d have to take, you opt more often than not to stay in your chambers for most of the day.

One of Autumn’s advisors had suggested the birth be a public spectacle, and Eris grabbed him by the back of his shirt and threw him out of the room, stating, “you’ll be allowed back in when you’ve recovered from your sudden onset stupidity.”

You were glad, because even laboring privately didn’t keep it from being quite the spectacle. Three high lords were to be in Autumn around the birth: your brother, Rhysand, and Eris’s brother, Lucien.

Lucien offered to be available to you in any way he can be, so you took him up on that offer and begged him to take your mate away for an hour or so every day.

So every day at an hour past noon, Lucien would retrieve Eris, and they would play some sporting game they invented when Lucien was a child. They tried explaining it to you, but it never made any sense to you, so you opted to just let them enjoy themselves.

Today, Eris was running through the halls of the Forest House, cursing himself for putting his chambers so deep inside. The house was more fortified the further in you went, with many foxholes that can take you throughout the court. Now it was just a pain to get back to his mate who was definitely not okay.

His fingers made quick work of ruining his hair, a light sweat coating his skin as he flung open the door, preparing for the worst.

Instead, he found his insufferable brother in law opposite you on the bed playing a card game.

“Hi Er,” you say, lighting up at the sight of him, but quickly going back to the cards in your hand, determination in your features.

Clover, the eldest hound and your personal favorite, currently had her head resting against your bump. Her eyes tracked the room, searching for any movement that could be perceived as a threat. Her tail wagged softly at Eris’s entrance, but she remained fixed, guarding your unborn babe.

“Hi Er,” Rhys offers, not glancing up from his cards, “did you run here or do you get winded from these elaborate halls?”

Eris straightens his vest, closing the door behind him as he walks further into the room. “Someone was sending some very distressed signals down the bond.”

He keeps his eyes on you as your face softens, “oops, I was so focused on our game, I didn’t mean to. It’s just not fair because he cheats!”

“I have done no such thing! How dare you accuse a high lord of such a crime?”

You stick your tongue out at him, which he immediately returns. Eris rolls his eyes, well aware of how being around your brother turns the two of you into children. He heads into your private chambers, heading towards the bathroom to bathe.

After bathing and putting on fresh clothes, Eris is about to head back to the two of you, when he hears your soft voice whisper through the door, “I miss mother.”

He’s sure you’re curled up into Rhysand, peering into the violet eyes you both inherited from her. He turns back into the chambers, allowing the two of you to share your grief. As he retreats he does hear, “but I’ll have Eris’s mother. She’s not, y’know, but she’s great. If I can’t have mother, she’s a great stand-in.”

He smiles to himself, finding the book on his bedside table, and settling into the couch, letting the two of you have your privacy.

-

Rhys travels between Autumn and Night every morning and every afternoon, keeping you company during the morning as you become more and more confined to your bedchambers.

You weren’t technically ordered for bedrest, but moving about was incredibly taxing for you, especially when trying to wrangle the large entourage Eris insisted on.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, Rhysand happened to be with you when your water broke.

Eris was at court settling a dispute between his idiotic advisors that they insisted required his input when Rhysand’s claws tapped his mind. Upon allowing him entry, he hears Rhysand’s voice trickle in.

It’s time.

-

Your contractions began, slow and unhurried, the cramping abismal. The contractions came quicker and quicker, time between shortening until your nursemaid tells you to start pushing.

You cry out as you do so, an intense pain coming from your pelvis. They tell you to stop, as they check to ensure your dilated enough to continue.

They motion for you to continue, but the pain only gets worse.

“She’s tearing dramatically,” one of the nurses says.

“What does that mean?” Rhys asks, holding your hand.

“Her circulation’s poor, likely because of the bedrest. She’s losing a lot of blood from these tears.”

Eris felt the primal rage of the mating bond heating his blood. They were talking about his mate in such a sterile, clinical way. Eris bared his teeth at them, but they did not back down, they would not back down, even to the commanding presence of multiple high lords.

“I need the two of you to leave, now. I need to focus, and I can’t do that with two high lords breathing down my neck.”

“Everyone here has her best interest at heart - I promise you, high lords, we will do our best for her,” another nursemaid says.

Eris’s eyes are fixed on your pale face, drained of any color. He doesn’t feel Rhys’s arm wrap around him, dragging him out of the room, nor does he feel the wall Rhys presses him against, giving him something to support his weight.

He can’t let that be the last memory he has of your face.

Lucien is in the hall, and Rhys is updating him on how much blood you loss. “Can’t Feyre’s blood heal? Can she come help?”

Eris snaps his eyes up to Rhysand, whose eyes have a vaguely glossy look to them.

“Please, Rhys.”

Eris did not beg. He accepted the hands he was dealt. He did not plead with his father, as the whip would strike his back. He did not plead with the Mother when he had to chase Lucien into Spring. He did not plead with the Cauldron or the stars asking for help.

But he would ask Rhysand.

“She’s on her way, she just has to get someone to care for Nyx.”

“Hel, she can bring Nyx and I can care for him,” Eris offered, reaching out to hold tightly onto that golden string connecting the two of you.

Rhys’s eyebrows raise, but Lucien cuts in, “brother, you are in no state to watch over a young child.”

“Since when have you had any experience with young children?”

Lucien balks, “the children of Spring were quite fond of me.”

Eris smirks, “pity the children of the court you preside over do not feel the same.”

Lucien is about to bite back when Rhys comes back to them.

“Okay, she’ll be here any minute now.”

Eris hated to do it, tampering with the wards of the Forest House to allow any member of your family entry in the past month.

Never has he been so grateful he did something he so staunchly opposed when Feyre appeared in front of them, a cooing Nyx in her arms that she quickly hands off to Lucien. She briefly lets her hand touch Rhys’s shoulder as she nods to Eris before running into the room.

Lucien holds Nyx, the young toddler providing amusement to the three high lords.

“Do you have a name?” Rhys asks, trying to distract Eris from the nervous meltdown he understood all too well.

“For a girl, we like Hestia Seline.”

Rhys’s eyes snap up, but Eris continues.

“Some ancient humans believed in multiple gods, one of which was the goddess of the hearth, Hestia. And Seline for..”

He gestures towards Rhys, letting his sentence finish there.

“You would allow a Vanserra to be named after my mother?”

Eris nods, “if she insisted,” a finger was pointed to the door you lay behind, in what condition Eris had no idea, “I’d let her name a Vanserra ‘Rhys Azriel Vanserra.”

Rhys grins, “but not Cassian?”

“We all must draw lines somewhere, Rhysand.”

Lucien hoists Nyx up into the air, his little wings fluttering, and Eris watches.

“I helped raise all of my brothers,” he states to no one in particular. “It would have been utter carnage if they had wings.”

“And Cassian only makes it worse.”

“Color me surprised. Don’t allow him home alone with Nyx, I’m sure he’ll throw him from your tallest balconies.”

Rhysand breathes through his nose, and Eris knows there’s a great possibility it is something that has already happened.

“What if it’s a boy?” Rhys asks, “you have Hestia Seline.”

“Jasper Camden.”

“Didn’t want another Beron around?” Lucien asks, pushing Nyx into the air on one arm.

“The day I give a child that name is the day I have been possessed.”

The conversation was helping distract Eris, but he kept a tight hold on the bond, ensuring you felt him no matter what.

Eris feels intense pain through the bond, and without thinking, he shoots up off the ground, and opens the door, promptly running into one of the nursemaids.

“High lord, she’s pushing again. The tears were healed, and she’s doing much better. I was just about to get you.”

He comes over to you, holding one of your hands. Feyre was tightly holding your other, holding a damp cloth to your forehead.

“Hello, my love.”

Eris isn’t sure when he started crying, but he knew he was when you smiled back at him, color back to your beautiful face.

“Haven’t you heard? I’m a vampire now- ah!”

You breathe out slowly, and Feyre begins whispering words of encouragement to you.

“But my dear, you love the sun too much.”

You nod as you push, and the nurse tells you you can stop for a moment. You catch your breath, looking towards your mate.

“But I would have really cool fangs. I could taste your blood.”

He strokes the back of your hand, kissing your palm. “Anything you want, my love.”

Your labor continued, much faster now as you held onto Feyre and Eris’s hands, frequently apologizing if you break any fingers.

Eris never got to be around for this part. He was always kept in front of closed doors, anxiously waiting for his next brother, uncertain as to his mother’s state. His anxiety reprieved only hours after the actual labor, when he was allowed to visit his mother and new brother.

Now he was here, the bond thrumming between you two, as he got to hear the first cries of his babe. You almost fall back in exhaustion as your babe slides out, but Eris slides behind you, allowing you to rest against his chest.

He holds your sweaty face in his hands, hair damp, kissing your forehead, telling you how proud of you he was and how incredible you were.

The two of you listen to your babe’s cries as the nursemaid brings the babe to you, placing them on your chest.

Every exhalation is accompanied by a wailing too large for the small body as they breathe air into their lungs for the first time.

Eris places a hand on the babe’s back, hoping they’ll remember his touch from the womb. The babe was covered in birth, but Eris didn’t care. He knew being around for this part was a privilege he had never been afforded before.

He kisses your head again, as the nursemaid smiles at the two of you.

“It’s a boy.”

[giuseppe-yuki]

anesthesia

kimi antonelli x tiger shapeshifter!reader

w.c.: 2.3k

warnings: none, really.

part of my shapeshifter!reader spinoff series

summary: kimi + anesthesia? not a good combo.

photo credits from pinterest :)

in the spacey kitchen of kimi‘s family house, you bustled around with your boyfriend‘s mother, preparing the night‘s dinner- homemade gnocchi. both of you chatted idly as you waited for the lightly salted water to boil on the stove- it had to reach a certain temperature to be considered hot enough to put the pain-stakingly hand rolled gnocchi in. 

however, your peaceful moment was ruined when kimi busted though the kitchen doorway with a thin piece of paper in his hand. 

he clears his throat, wrinkling the paper in nervousness. 

you wipe your floury hands on a wet rag and hurry over to kimi. you didn‘t want to assume the worst, but what if he was hurt? did something happen at the mercedes facilities? gently putting your hand on his arm to comfort him, you question kimi. “are you okay, baby? what’s wrong?” 

thrusting the paper onto the dirty counter so both you and his mother can see, he explains. ”so…i just went to my dentist and he said i might have to have my wisdom teeth removed- like tomorrow afternoon.“ 

you huff in exasperation, lightly shoving your boyfriend aside in a joking manner. ”kimi! you had me worried for a second!“ 

he rolls his eyes. 

his mother laughs, having just finished reading the appointment overview. ”no, mia cara, he‘s just scared because he has to be put under anesthesia!“

kimi’s eyes widen, and he hurriedly tries to stop his mother from saying anything else. ”mamma, no!”

kimi’s mother just bats her son‘s hands away. smiling at you as if sharing a secret, she continues on. “last time kimi had to be put under anesthesia was when he broke his arm in a kart crash, and let’s just say- he went a little crazy.“

you had never seen kimi so nervous before. not during your first date, not during the negotiations period with toto, and not even in the moments before doing fp1 in a formula 1 car for the first time ever!

kimi twiddled his thumbs and adjusted his seat every two seconds as you drove him to the dentist office in your custom mini cooper. 

keeping your eyes on the twisty roads of italy, you reach over with one hand to squeeze his hand. “it‘s alright, kimi,” you comfort, “i‘m sure the procedure will go fine! and, if you are scared of the anesthesia, don‘t be. everything will be okay.“

everything was actually not okay. 

it started when the dentist’s assistant had fetched you from the nicely decorated waiting room of the dentist office. 

“you are his… girlfriend, correct?” the assistant asks, flipping through a manila folder neatly labeled as ‘antonelli, andrea kimi’. 

you nod, trailing behind the woman in light blue scrubs through the maze-like hallways. 

“great!” she exclaims, opening a fancy white door and gesturing inside. “your boyfriend is here.”

when you walk in, kimi was slung over a dentist chair, eyes half closed and mouth stuffed to the brim with white gauze. his head lolled backwards and he was subconsciously twitching his fingers. even so, you applauded his ability to look so adorable under such conditions. you walk towards the chair, which was placed smack dab in the middle of the room next to some glistening metal tools and a big dental light that was shining directly into kimi’s face.

a lady in a white lab coat approaches you before you can talk to your boyfriend, hand out. “hello, you must be kimi’s girlfriend!” she says, beaming at you and enthusiastically shaking your hand. “i’m glad to say that the operation was a success!” letting go of your hand and scribbling something down on a piece of paper, she continues on. “i do have to say though, we did administer anesthesia in order to keep him comfortable for the procedure. he will be a little disoriented- ” 

before the doctor could finish her sentence, kimi roughly pushes himself up from the dentist chair, glaring at you. 

“WHO are YOU?!” he shouts, voice a little muffled by the gauze in his mouth. “get AWAY from me- i have a girlfriend!”

you look at him in disbelief. beside you, the doctor and the nurse muffle their laughter. 

“this is normal- usually the anesthesia lasts for a few hours, and he’ll be back to his regular self in no time!” the nurse explains.

you turn around to kimi aggressively punching the air around you, but missing every time.

“im warning you!” he slurs, “if you don’t get away from me, my girlfriend is gonna- is gonna eat you!” 

the dental assistant and dentist both raise a brow at kimi’s lowkey concerning words, but brush it off as another side effect of the anesthesia. 

“shut up, kimi!” you hiss in his ear, now trying your best to haul him out of the door in his disoriented state. 

he seems to cooperate with you momentarily from the operating room to the parking lot outside, until you reach your mini cooper.

“EWWWW!” he yells at the top of his lungs, causing several other people in the parking lot to look over. ��I CANNOT BE SEEN IN A MINI COOPER! I HAVE A CONTRACT WITH MERCEDES.”

you slap your hand over his mouth, quickly mouthing sorrys to the people who probably had their eardrums explode from kimi’s screech. 

“kimi,” you reprimand. “you have to be quiet! we are in a public space and you are disrupting other people. now, you get inside the car right now.” 

he grumbles, but slowly stumbles his way into the passenger seat. 

you softly close his door and hop into your driver’s seat, sighing in exasperation. perhaps his mother was right. he did get a little crazy under anesthesia. maybe you should have called ollie for backup. 

after a bit of a struggle putting on kimi’s seatbelt, (he seemed to think it was a snake trying to strangle him) you back up from your parking spot and slowly make your way to the exit of the plaza. 

in the passenger seat, reclined all the way back with his feet on the dash like a passenger princess, kimi promptly bursts into tears. 

trying not to get hit by a random dude in a light blue vespa, you can only spare glances at kimi thrashing around in his seat like an eel, the only thing stopping him from flipping into the center console was the seat belt. 

“what??” you exclaim, head turning back and forth trying to see what’s possibly wrong with your boyfriend while also focusing on the road. “is there something wrong, kimi?”

“yes!!” he sniffles, wiping the streams of tears of his face. “you called me kimi and that’s not my name! my name is andrea. apologize right now!”

good god, you think, feeling peeved. you couldn’t wait until his anesthesia wore off.

putting on your best apologetic face, you quickly apologize. “okay, i am so sorry for that, andrea. how should i make it up to you?”

just like you flipped a switch, he immediately stops crying. “yay! thank you!” he says giddily, kicking his legs. “how about you get me ice cream??”

you don’t have to think twice before accepting his offer. the night before, you had researched a little bit about wisdom teeth surgery aftercare, and apparently ice cream was really good for you. besides, you felt like you deserved a treat after using so much energy to drag kimi out of the dental clinic.

you reroute to the nearest ice cream shop, and kimi thankfully stays silent for most of the car ride, but occasionally messed with the seat adjustment buttons a few more times than you thought was necessary. 

however, ten minutes to ice cream shop, at a stoplight,  kimi suddenly jolts from his position looking out the window. a shiny silver mercedes g-wagon sits glistening in the sun next to your tiny mini cooper. 

as if he just had neuron activation, he snaps his head towards you. “hey! you! did you know, i am a formula 1 driver for mercedes?”

the light turns green, so you step on it, the g wagon following at the same acceleration as you. 

“umm, yes! i do know that actually,” you say, navigating to the left-most lane. 

your boyfriend giggles mischievously, even though nothing was funny in the first place. “well,” he drawls out, holding up one finger. “i actually know how to drive very good. i can show you if you want?”

before you have a chance to react, your boyfriend grasps your steering wheel and yanks it aggressively to the right, almost running you into the expensive g-wagon. 

“kimi- i mean andrea! do not do that! ” you screech, prying his fingers off of the wheel and hurriedly correcting the car before it can cause any damage to any other vehicles on the road. 

he laughs and claps his hands at the g-wagon honking its horn at you, as if he didn’t just almost create a five car pileup in the middle of the road.

thankfully, the rest of time goes smoothly without any incidents. well that is, until you got into the shop. 

“what flavor do you want, andrea?” you question, putting emphasis on the ‘andrea’ part. you did not feel like dealing with a breakdown just because you called him by the nickname that literally everyone called him. 

“stracciatella!!” he trills, twirling in a circle. 

ignoring the strange looks from other customers in the store, you place your and kimi’s orders, collect them, and snatch a comfortable looking bench outside of the store to eat your ice cream. 

of course, half-way through shoveling his ice cream into his mouth, (he smeared at least a fourth of his ice cream on his shirt) he decides that his memories of you would disappear again like it did in the dentist office, and he starts yelling bloody murder.

“EEEEEEEE!” he announces to every passerby in a five mile radius, jumping up and down while waving his arms. “i do NOT know this woman! she is trying to kidnap me!” 

you place your ice cream down next to you, snatch his flailing arms and shove him a tad roughly back onto the bench. “so sorry!” you shout to onlookers. “he’s under anesthesia right now- wisdom teeth removal!” your line seems to work, as no bystanders call the police on you, but he still continues to yell. 

you try every possible method you can think of, like begging him to stop screaming, trying to bribe him, and attempting to drag him to your car, but none of the above work, and he kept insisting that he didn’t know you. 

having no choice but to use your last resort, you make sure assure kimi that you will be right back (not that he particularly cared in this mindset) and dashed into a side street.

padding quickly out of the alley by the ice cream shop, you approach kimi. he reacts exactly how you hoped he would- eyes widening in realization and a smile lighting up his face- a direct opposite of his suspicious glares and nasty side-eyes from before. 

“baby!” he shrieks, stumbling a bit towards you before clutching onto your fur. “i missed you soooo much!”

you wrap your tail around his body protectively to steady him, so he doesn’t fall.

“i’m glad you’re here,” he mumbles, petting you. “because a really weird lady literally tried to kidnap me! can you even believe that?”

you practically roll your eyes. he didn’t recognize you in your human form, but he did in your tiger form? unbelieveable.

carefully, you unwind your tail and softly nudge kimi onto your back. once you are sure he is secure on your back, you wind through several gaping tourists and an annoyed looking old nonna on the cobblestone street towards the parking lot. you purposely bow your head, trying your best to not look hostile to the passerbyers (it was kind of hard considering you were literally a tiger in the middle of a street in bologna, and with a groggy boy that looked suspiciously like the famed racing driver kimi antonelli sprawled on your back)

when you reach your hastily-parked mini cooper, you practically drag him off your back and use your teeth to yank him into the vehicle. double-checking to make sure no one was looking, you shift back into your human form, and speed back to kimi’s house in a record time that would probably make toto reassign you as the new merc formula one driver. 

kimi’s mother cackles in laughter when she sees your disheveled-looking self trudge through the front door, one hand towing a tired kimi behind you. 

“i hope kimi didn’t cause you too much trouble,” she laughs from her position at the kitchen island, one hand on her hip. 

your boyfriend slumps onto his living room couch, one hand still stubbornly clasped in yours. he falls asleep within seconds.

“it was… alright,” you reply, raking your free hand through his curls. “if kimi ever needs to be brought home under anesthesia again though, i will definitely be bringing backup,” you admit. 

his mother nods, smiling. “i’m just glad he has a girlfriend like you to take care of him,” she states before walking away. 

you blush a bit at her words. you were pretty lucky to have such an amazing future in-laws and talented boyfriend.

daintily, you take a seat next to kimi, cooing when he subconsciously nuzzles his head into your lap. maybe kimi under anesthesia wasn’t so bad, after all.

“i love you, kimi!” you whisper to your boyfriend.

suddenly, his eyes snap open and he shoves himself off your lap. “my name is andrea!” he pouts, glaring at you.

 placing your head in your hands, you sigh defeatedly. you definitely take back your statement. 

a/n: sorry y'all i had the most shitty week (i failed my physics test 🥲) so i haven't been that active recently. i finally mustered up some energy tonight to type this one out lmao.

side note, i have reattached the taglist from my previous series just in case you guys would like to read the spinoff. feel free to let me know if you'd like to be removed or added to the taglist for this series! :)

taglist: @ilivbullyingjeongin@ale-522@formula1-motogpfan@aceyalonso@my0hmary

@russellbby@madkohi@rakshatos@heartsforleclerc@papaya-twinks

[moutainrusing]

hear me out

691 words, jegulus, platonic prongsfoot

They’d decided to have a ‘hear me out’ cake in the dormitory.

James remembered how it started – as per usual, he was awoken to Sirius waving something in his face. This time it had been a phone screen, open on a bunch of random videos about people putting their most out-of-pocket crushes on cakes and revealing them to the horrified faces of their friends, who turned out to either have a crush on the exact same person, or a crush on someone (or something) worse.

“We’ve got to do this,” Sirius had pleaded.

James had patted his head affectionately, “Mate, you don’t need to ask for my permission.”

Things had spiralled from there, as they often did when they were left up to Sirius. He’d assembled all four Marauders and arranged for them to have printed out or drawn all the pictures of their most embarrassing or unflattering or disturbing or secret crushes, while he’d get a cake from the Kitchens in time for their… ‘hear me out’ thing… at night. Was it a party? A celebration? James didn’t know.

He did know what face he was putting on the cake.

Remus stifled an unbecoming snort when he saw it. Peter wrinkled his nose and prepared for the worst.

Sirius was blissfully ignorant for at least ten seconds before he suddenly clocked it and began squawking, “That’s my brother! Oh my— You want to shag my brother?!” he whipped around to face James incredulously, then got to his feet and began shaking James’s shoulders, “Answer the question!”

And James poked his tongue in his cheek, reluctantly smiling at Sirius with his gums, “Uh… Surprise?”

Sirius scoffed, “I can’t believe this. Keep it to yourself. Don’t get involved with—”

“We’re dating,” James’s brain decided that was the moment to confess. It was a good moment.

“You what?!” Sirius roared. “But that’s my brother! Regulus?! You— what— this isn’t cool, man. Can’t believe neither of you told me. I’m eating your slice of cake now. And tell Regulus he must offer me full custody of Leonie or our brotherhood is through.”

“Leonie?” James questioned.

Sirius huffed, “You don’t even know the first thing about Regulus. Leonie is our stuffed toy lioness,” he turned his nose to the ceiling. “And now she will be mine, ‘cause you’re both traitors.”

In the background, Remus and Peter laughed (traitors) while James tried to placate his best friend.

“You can have Leonie, Sirius—”

“That’s not enough! Firstly, are you even being safe with him? Is he being safe with you?! AND ARE YOU SHAGGING LIKE DISGUSTING CORRUPTED HEATHENS?!”

“We’re safe, and we’re not shagging—”

“Am I the first to know, or have you kept this filthy secret from me specifically?!”

“Sirius, right now is the first time I’ve told anyone, and I told you, Remus, and Peter—”

Sirius gasped, “Did you have Reggie’s permission to tell us?!”

“I’d never do anything without Reg’s permission,” James said seriously.

Extending his pinky, Sirius narrowed his eyes. “Promise?”

“Promise,” James assured him, linking their fingers.

Sirius sighed. “Fine. Have him on your stupid hear me out. But I’m still eating your slice. And after I do, we’re finding him and having a conversation like adults do.”

- - -

“Regulus!”

“Sirius.”

Regulus crossed his arms while Sirius looked at his brother carefully, before nodding wisely, “I’m glad.”

Despite the roll of his eyes, Regulus was smiling, “Thanks.”

James was very confused about the whole interaction.

Then Regulus went back into his dormitory, but Sirius was still standing outside. After a minute of just dawdling, a stuffed toy lioness flew out of Regulus’s door and landed in Sirius’s arms.

Beaming, Sirius cradled Leonie to his chest and told James, “We can go back now, or you can stay with Reg. His dorm’s empty,” Sirius tilted his head towards it.

“How do you know—?” James was cut off by Regulus pulling him into the, as Sirius had correctly predicted, empty dormitory.

“Hi,” Regulus greeted, wrapping his arms around James’s neck and pulling him down into a kiss. “Thanks for telling them,” he mumbled.

“I wanna tell the whole world I love you,” James whispered back.

[phagodyke]

my god. new contender for most shite day at work this year so far

another morning another free bus journey..

[vasyandii]

I'm kicking my feet I love your oc Vernon! Let me pry though: have Vernon and AM ever kissed, or will they ever kiss? Also does AM enjoy the sensation of Vernon close to him or when she touches him, like in your art of her using him as an AC LOL

AAAAH Howdy howdy!! I'm so glad you like Vernon as I've worked real hard on her! Thank you so much for the ask! 💞💞 I will be answering these in reverse order!

VernonAM 🏺🖥️

Does AM enjoy the sensation of Vernon close to him/when she touches him?

I like to believe AM's come a long way with being touched. When he first transferred his consciousness over to his body, it was sensory overload. The WORST kind.

Everything was too loud, too quiet, he could smell EVERYTHING, everything was too hot, too cold, not hot enough, his mouth felt dry even with the saliva he had, how much it hurt feeling the air in his lungs, HE COULD FEEL HIS EYEBALLS IN HIS SKULL. It was like being born, it was awful. Like Nietzsche said; "To live is to suffer."

Vernon sat him down, trying to calm him since this is technically the first "human" she's seen after 109 years.

AM could feel every fold of his clothing rubbing against his skin, every microscopic fibre stabbing his skin. The residual warmth from Vernon touching him to sit him down so he wouldn't collapse caused AM to start screaming, sobbing.

Because he had no mouth (roll credits) prior to this, he didn't know how to use it to form words. He couldn't articulate what was wrong in his fit of screaming and tears.

And so his body went limp not 10 minutes after. He got out of there, telling Vernon that it's the closest thing he could compare to the torture he put on the other five. Vernon had to convince him to come back again or she'd tear the damn body apart and eat it.

It took months, baby steps of getting him adjusted in being a man. They spent weeks on smell, touch, and heat before they would even consider movement. It was tough on Vernon's end, smart as she is, she's a terrible teacher, asking AM to leave her alone for a few hours or days, lashing out when he's in such a vulnerable state.

But Vernon persisted, and finally AM got to hold her comfortably. Fast forward to now, AM has grown quite fond of the sensation of touch and touching things just for the sake of it. They could be sitting and he'd have it so their shoulders are touching.

AM is fond of Vernon's touch, that's the only time she's gentle (despite her words) with anything that might have the possibility of breaking. He enjoys her softness and warmth; How protective she is of him. AM can't articulate genuine care since his hatred for humanity is still there, but he's grateful, even despite his taunts.

Have AM and Vernon ever kissed? Will they ever kiss?

They kiss often, those two degenerates. It almost makes me jealous how often they kiss (D1 hater over here).

Vernon's technically kissed him before, just to get him comfortable, but it's never on the lips or near his face, usually his wrists and knuckles. Exposure therapy along with affection, basically. He didn't try to kiss her back until he was fully prepared to.

After fully adjusting to his new body, AM was finally able to kiss Vernon. He wasn't very good at it his first attempt. It was more similar to AM headbutting Vernon than an actual kiss.

Having a body gave way to a new emotion; embarrassment. Since he's now technically on the same level as her (in height as well, he's a lil dude) he was embarrassed that his first attempt didn't go as planned. When he didn't have a body, there was nothing to be judged, but now he does.

After brushing it off as him being curious and just feeling like headbutting her, AM didn't attempt to kiss her on the lips until he was sure he was ready.

Their proper first kiss was quite nice.

If you made it this far, thank you for reading my mad man words! I tend to ramble a ton, so if there's anything you'd like for me to clarify, feel free to tell me!

[anjee0]

Bad day

Female!reader x Eminem (Feel free to put in your own oc insert as well)

Description - Marshall decides to treat Y/n after a rough day at work.

Warnings - Fluff, hickeys, short and sweet

Requested by @marshall-is-my-husband

Y/N had bad day at work and Marshall make for her little suprise like. Its evening she just took shower, she put on his Lions sweatshirt and comfortable sweatpants, she came back to the living room and he had prepared on the big comfy sofa a lot of pillows, warm blankets, some fast food for her and invited her to relax with him in front of the TV, some cuddles, sweet kisses, small talks, neck massage, candles you know something cute like this...

Y/n groaned as she entered the house, feeling a sense of relief that her rough day was over, but still annoyed with the earlier events of today. In her mind, she kept on telling herself she didn’t want to over exaggerate the heaviness of the situation, but she couldn’t but keep telling herself that today was one of her worst days at work. It was busier than usual, making most of her co-workers (and especially her boss) cranky to get work done quickly. She lost track on how many times her boss had gotten frustrated at everyone today.

As soon as she stepped in though and saw Marshall, lounging on the couch, reading a comic, all the frantic energy hanging around her had lessened to a quiet hum instead. At the end of the day, Y/n only wanted to see her husband and jump into his arms. As Marshall looked up, he noticed in an instant that something was wrong.

“Everything okay?” He asked, closing the comic and setting aside.

“Not really. Terrible day at work. It was so busy, and everyone was cranky. Boss was a pain in the ass. I’m just happy to see you.” She sat down next to Marshall on the sofa and placed a kiss on his forehead.

“That sounds rough, but I’m glad to see you though. Hey, why don’t you take a shower and we can spend some time on the couch?”

“That sounds great. I’ll be quick.”

Y/n quickly went upstairs and into the bathroom, immediately turning on the shower. She stripped herself off her uniform and stepped into the hot water, that brought a ripple of comfort throughout her body. She stood under the pouring water, taking in the warmth that came with it. She scrubbed herself with her favourite body wash, that smelled like fresh and sweet strawberries. She finally rinsed herself and turned the shower off, surrounding herself in the hot steam that the water had left for her.

After drying herself and wrapping her body in her towel, she made her way into the bedroom, feeling the dramatic change of the temperature as she stepped away from the warmth of the bathroom. Y/n noticed on the bed a folded blue hoodie and sweatpants with a sticky note on top. She took it off the clothes and read it carefully.

Figured you’d need something comfortable to wear. Take my Lions hoodie and sweatpants. Love you. -Marshall.

Y/n felt an eruption of butterflies in her stomach as the corners of her lips rose into a smile. She couldn’t help but feel grateful that Marshall was willing to give her one of his favourite hoodies. As she put it on, she basked herself in the comforting warmth that came with the clothes. She exhaled softly through her nose, taking in his scent that stuck on the hoodie. 

As Y/n made her way downstairs, a small wave of shock hit her as she saw blankets and pillows set up on the sofa, with the coffee table full of snacks, drinks and pizza boxes. Vanilla scented candles were lit around, bringing a romantic ambience to the room. Marshall sat on the sofa with a pleasing smile on his face as he stretched his arms out to welcome his girl in.

“Come here baby.” He said.

Y/n jumped into his arms and wrapped herself around him, feeling absolutely joyful. “What’s all of this?”

“Just some treatment for your bad day.”

“I should have bad days more often.” She looked around once more, processing the scene set out of her. “When did you have time to do all of this?”

“Well, I knew you’d spend some time in the shower, so it gave me enough time to sort all  of this out.”

“When did you get time to order pizza?”

“Well, I have my ways to get it here quickly. I figured we could watch a movie, cuddle, talk, share some kisses, I can give you a neck rub, I know you love those.”

“Oh that sounds perfect. You really didn’t have to do all of this.”

“But I wanted to. I want the best for my girl. Also, those clothes look great on you.”

Marshall turned on the TV and put on a random movie that he found on Netflix, that the two agreed to watch. He turned off the living room lights, the only light being the illuminating screen from the TV and the dimmed candles. The pair both stayed close to each other, not a single space between them at all. They wrapped themselves in the blankets, letting a spread of snugness and cosiness come over them.

Y/n rested her head on Marshall’s chest, she steadied her breathing to match his, as she studied how his chest would rise and fall. Marshall wrapped his arms around her and held her close as he rested his chin on top of her head. Every few minutes, he would place a soft kiss on her head, taking in the scent of her hair at the same time.

Marshall’s hands made their way to Y/n’s neck, as he started rubbing circles into the side of it, massaging the tension out of her. He listened closely to the quiet moans Y/n would let escape from her mouth as his touch deepened. The knots in her neck untied, leaving her in a state of pure bliss and relaxation.

Eventually, the movie was forgotten about and quickly turned into a makeout session. Their kiss started off slow and tender, taking their time as they captured each other’s feelings in the kiss. As it deepened and progressed, it poured out more desire and strong adoration. Marshall’s lips travelled his way down to Y/n’s neck, gently sucking on her sweet spot as his teeth grazed her soft skin. The pressure left a love bite that was obvious and very noticeable to the naked eye. He buried his face in her neck, leaving more softer kisses now and humming in appreciation. 

By the end of the night, the snacks, drink were finished as empty pizza boxes (some still have one or two slices in them) were left on the coffee table. The TV was left turned on the Netflix home screen, still illuminating the dark room. And on the couch, laid Y/n and Marshall cuddling each other and wrapped in blankets as they slept peacefully in each other's embrace.

A/N: its quite short, but I hope u enjoyed it :))

[totallybakedcake]

hihi!~ I saw you were accepting wind breaker requests and I would loveeee to hear your thoughts about how the furin boys (mainly suo, kiryu, and kaji) react to their s/o flirting with another guy to get the attention of their recently very busy boyfies? >< alternatively, would LOVE your thoughts on how the furin boys protect u from some creepy guys that won't stop bothering you at school (⌒▽⌒)☆

Such a cute request and I really really wanted to write windbreaker boys as overprotective. Seriously my favourite types of fics are where the female (specifically) is hurt and the male patches her up. My second favourite is overprotective male boyfriend/bestie. So specific and I can't find fics like these nowadays. My favorite windbreaker boys are Kaij, Suo and Kiryu<3

In their care

You have always been more of an 'it's whatever' person. If something or someone bothers you, you shrug it off and continue the day. Even if it sometimes gets serious, you prefer to get your boyfriend out of it and solve it on your own. Today was no different.

It was a regular day at school, just doing your work and then walking back home, when suddenly a group of guys stopped you. "Hey beautiful. Want to come with us? You can have all the fun you want." His awfully sweet tone made you worried, but footsteps were heard coming your way as they ran off without a second thought.

It was Kaji and his vice captains on patrol, just strolling through the town. "That serves them right, morons." Scoffing, you walked away.

It happened another day. You were just going home as the same guys tried to approach you, but again they went away as furin members were behind you.

Two times is a coincidence, but the third time is not. Those guys would show up every day now just to smirk and walk off. It was starting to make you worried and scared, so you thought it was finally time to tell it to your boyfriend.

I was walking with the brownies you had made and his friends, just thinking about the ways to tell him so that he does not snap. When you arrived, you took a deep breath before going inside.

"Hey Hayato." You called out but saw all the members of Furin training and really having fun with determination. "Hey Sunshine!" Umemiya called out to you with a big grin on his face, "We have started training days where we all train together and get stronger. Isn't it great?"

Suo spotted you and came to you with a smile. "Sunshine, what happened?" His gentle tone was usually honey to your ears, but today it felt different. You knew you couldn't disturb him when he was training so hard. "Uhm, it's nothing. I just wanted to visit you; that's it." He smiled at you before pulling you into a hug. Pulling away and giving him an excuse for extra homework was enough for him to not suspect you. You would tell him later that you must avoid those gangsters.

The next day, it finally broke.

As you were running to get home, being as sneaky as possible, a hand pulled into an alley as your head hit the floor.

"Who will you call this time? Those Furin boys, their patrol time is over, and our fun time is beginning." You cried as your knees bled, and they came closer to touch you.

Ouch, it hurt to fall to the floor again as your head started to bleed. "Gosh, Suo, just please come" was the only thought running through your head as you closed your eyes, preparing for the worst.

The hit never came as you slowly opened your eyes to find Suo just standing there, looking over at the guys who were beaten up badly. They were unconscious, but Suo didn't have a single scratch on himself.

He did not say anything but carefully picked you up in his arms. He wrapped a handkerchief around your head and knees temporarily. His expression went from deadly to calm; it was not the normal calm but something different.

You didn't even dare to speak a single word, just closing your eyes in his warm embrace, feeling safe and protective.

"I am glad you came." You tried to break the silence, but no response came. Sighing, you closed your eyes and almost immediately fell asleep in Suo's warm and safe embrace.

The next time you opened your eyes, it was in your shared bedroom. The lights were switched off as you were wrapped in a warm blanket.

" S-suo?" You called out to your boyfriend, who had some soup and snacks in a tray; he placed them down and sat next to you before saying, "I am sorry, Name, you should have come quicker."

He interweaved his fingers with yours before looking down. It made you feel upset for not telling him. As an apology, you cupped his face and closed your eyes.

Pulling him close, you kissed Suo gently. It was to reassure him that you were okay; everything was fine, and he should not worry about it.

"Suo, it's alright; just forget about it, okay? As a punishment, you are on dinner duty and cleaning duty for two weeks." He couldn't help but laugh before pulling you in for another kiss.

"I am fine with that."

Sorry, needed to make this a 3 part series

[steddieas-shegoes]

i'm glad i get forever to see where you end

for @messessentialist's birthday. i already said it all on ao3, but i love you biiiiitch. happy birthday, kissin you on the lips with tongue, cuddling you while we steal cool rocks from national parks (allegedly).

rated e | 14,135 words | cw: minor character deaths offscreen, brief discussion of grief and mourning, alcohol | check ao3 for all tags

🎣🎣🎣🎣🎣

He stares down at the paper in his hands. He thought he’d feel relief, maybe a tiny bit of happiness that he’d never admit to. He even considered that he might feel a small speck of sadness the day his brother died.

But all Wayne Munson feels right now is disbelief and anger, and he doesn’t know where to hide it before Eddie gets home.

“God damn idiot. Couldn’t even have the decency to die of old age. Had to go and get killed behind bars,” Wayne mutters under his breath as he folds the paper and slips it back into the envelope, hoping that keeping it out of sight might help him come to terms with the emotions flooding his chest. “Bullshit.”

Wayne is tired. He feels exhaustion in his bones, even in his fresh retirement.

For some, retirement is a time to reflect on the life you’ve lived and experience the things you couldn’t while you worked and raised a family. For others, retirement never happens at all.

For Wayne, retirement is a reminder that he almost lost his nephew, his son, and the government had to make sure he wouldn’t say a damn thing about how.

He knows he shouldn’t complain, but damn he sure would like to.

And now he has to figure out a way to tell Eddie that his father got killed in prison. The letter doesn’t say much, just that it was violent and the person responsible for his death is facing further consequences. As if Wayne cares about that. As if it helps explain this situation to a boy who already lost enough.

He sighs as he grabs a beer from the fridge and glances at the clock. Eddie should be home soon. He can’t hold onto this for too long; The news will get out soon enough and he’ll hear it from somewhere else, somewhere who won’t take the time to see what Eddie needs.

He takes a sip of the beer, then another, hoping the next taste of the bitter hops will help him decipher what he needs to say to Eddie.

It’s almost a blessing that Eddie doesn’t arrive home for another hour, giving Wayne time to finish his beer and get started on dinner.

Wayne is already prepared to ask Steve to head out tonight instead of linger, using the excuse of making sure Eddie doesn’t need anything before he goes. Usually Wayne finds it endearing, and hopes Eddie can see what’s so obvious there, but not tonight.

But Steve doesn’t walk in with Eddie.

Eddie’s humming something when he walks in, setting his cane against the table before sitting down in a chair and looking at Wayne with a smile.

“Hey, Wayne. How’s your day been?”

Wayne knows he’s about to ruin Eddie’s day at the very least and he’s not sure if he wants that task. He silently curses Al Munson again, wishing for someone to show up and say it was a mistake just so he doesn’t have to do this.

“Oh, boring. Ya know I hate retirement,” Wayne says as he brushes off the stress, tries to figure out a way to lead in to the news naturally. “Too much time on my hands.”

“You love fishing, though. Thought that’s where you went all morning.”

Wayne nodded. “You’re right about that. Guess I just like keeping my mind busy.”

He’s met with silence, which leads him to looking over to the table, where Eddie is staring at the envelope the letter came in.

Why did he leave it out in the open like that? It’s clearly marked from the prison.

“What’s this?” Eddie asks, always curious to the point of danger. “Dad get out?”

This was one of the worst things Wayne ever had to do and that’s saying something. Vietnam wasn’t for the weak, losing the love of his life nearly killed him, and seeing Eddie in a hospital bed after just barely escaping death is something he’d feel deep in his chest for years. But this was up there.

“No, son,” Wayne sighed, turning away from the pot on the stove. Beef stew and bread with butter was one of Eddie’s favorites, but it took a lot of work. That didn’t matter as much as making sure Eddie had support. “They sent a letter to let me know your dad passed away.”

Eddie didn’t look away from the letter. He was playing with the rings on his fingers, replaced by Steve the moment he realized they were missing in the hospital.

“Did they say how?” Eddie finally asked, still not looking up at Wayne.

“They just said another inmate was responsible. I don’t know any details. I’m sorry, Ed. Really sorry.”

And he is. Despite the fact that Al was a terrible father and made Eddie’s life harder than it should have ever been, he knows Eddie must have a lot of complicated emotions.

“Welp!” Eddie claps his hands on his thighs before finally looking back up at Wayne. “Guess that’s that.”

“It…is?” Wayne is trying to watch for any sign of discomfort or sadness, maybe anger. He sees none.

“Yeah. Not like I’ve really had him around to feel much of a loss.” Eddie smiles. It’s not fake, at least not according to Wayne’s judgment. “You’ve been my dad more than he ever was.”

Wayne feels warmth spreading in his chest at the thought of Eddie seeing him as his parent. It makes sense, but he’s never outright said something. Sure, he gave him Father’s Day cards, often handmade. And yeah, he braved a fishing trip every year for Wayne’s birthday because he knew it meant a lot to him. There was that one time he’d called him Dad when he was on morphine in the hospital.

Hearing it changes something in Wayne.

“You really feel that way, kid?” Wayne asks, sitting down at the table across from Eddie.

“Yeah. I kinda thought you knew that already.”

“Guess it’s nice to hear anyway.”

They don’t say anything else. They don’t need to.

A few minutes goes by before Wayne stands up and walks over to the stew, giving it a stir and taking a spoonful out to test the carrots and beef.

“Is that beef stew?” Eddie asks as the scent hits him.

“Sure is.”

“You were worried about how this was gonna go, huh?” Eddie teases, smirk evident in his voice.

“A little. Can’t blame me, can ya?” Wayne decides it’s done and turns off the stove. He’s grabbing two bowls from the cabinet when the front door opens.

“You forgot the meds!” Steve yells as he runs into their kitchen with a bottle of prescription pills in his hand. He freezes when he sees Wayne dishing out stew. “Sorry. Uh. Am I interrupting?”

Wayne laughs around a sigh, reaching up to grab a third bowl.

“No, have a seat, son. Just gettin’ ready to eat.”

Eddie stands and limps his way to Steve, taking the pill bottle to pocket it before he leans further in his space.

“I’m an orphan!”

Steve’s jaw drops and Wayne does all he can not to laugh. It’s not funny, and he knows that Eddie’s probably not processing the news properly yet, but he’d rather laugh than cry.

“Sorry, what?”

“My dad’s dead. The biological one in prison. Rest in peace to the man who gave me, like, two useful skills and musical talent.” Eddie is still leaning into Steve’s space and Wayne’s watching, waiting.

“I’m sorry, Eddie, that sucks.”

“Nah, it sucks that he was such a shitty dad I barely even feel sad that he’s dead.” Ah, there it is. That’s why he’s doing better than Wayne expected. “I’ve got Wayne.”

“Damn right,” Wayne adds as he pulls spoons out of the drawer. “Let’s eat.”

Steve seems lost for a moment as he looks between Wayne and Eddie, unsure what else to say in this admittedly strange situation.

He finally grabs two bowls off the counter and sets them in his and Eddie’s spots at the table.

“Let’s eat.”

- - -

Two days pass before it really hits Eddie.

Wayne’s been waiting.

Nothing major happens. Eddie doesn’t break down in tears or lash out in anger. He doesn’t even mention saying goodbye in some way.

“We should go on a trip.” He says to Wayne while they’re eating breakfast.

“What kinda trip?” Wayne asks without looking up from his newspaper.

“Camping. Or maybe cabin-ing. Somewhere with walls and running water.” Eddie sounds breathless, like he’s run a marathon. Wayne finally looks up and sees the look in his eyes. “Could go fishing and roast marshmallows and swim and stuff. Like that one time.”

He’s talking about the trip they took together a few months after he moved in permanently. His mama was gone and his dad was sitting in jail waiting for sentencing on an armed robbery turned homicide. Wayne wanted to get Eddie’s mind off everything before he had to go back to school, so he took him up to a friend’s cabin at the lake for a few days.

Eddie’s never been an outside person, but they had fun there.

It was the first time Wayne felt like Eddie was his.

It may have been the first time Eddie felt safe with Wayne, too.

“I could see if that cabin’s available. My buddy doesn’t rent it out much anymore so I’m sure he’d be fine with us using it.”

“Could Steve come?”

“Sure.”

He agrees without a second thought.

This is Eddie’s way of seeking comfort in the people he has left, he can see it from a mile away. If Eddie needs Steve to come with them, it’s no skin off Wayne’s back.

Plus, Wayne can recognize how badly Steve needs to relax. He can’t believe someone as young as him walks with so much tension in his shoulders and lines on his forehead.

“Sweet. He’s never been fishing,” Eddie explains. “Or hiking in the right side up. At least not proper hiking. I guess we aren’t really doing proper hiking. I’m wearing jeans. Can’t be real hiking.”

Wayne smiles down at the sports section of the paper, nodding and humming in agreement when Eddie recommends something else for their trip.

- - -

Steve tries insisting on taking his car as his contribution to the weekend, but Wayne tells him they need the space in his truck for all their gear. It occurs to him when Steve just blinks back at him that Eddie didn’t explain how much is actually involved in all this.

But Wayne takes the time to show him some of the stuff he already has packed in the bed of his truck.

“I thought we were staying in a cabin. Why do we have a tent?” Steve sounds nervous when he asks.

“It’s not a full tent. Just a canopy to hang up to protect us from the sun if we get caught up somewhere during our hike.”

“Hike?” Steve turns towards the trailer, glaring at Eddie, who is too busy trying to figure out which of his sneakers to wear to notice. “He didn’t say anything about hiking. I don’t have boots or, or, anything!”

Wayne grabs Steve’s shoulders, looks him in the eye, and lets out a laugh.

“Do ya think Eddie would agree to go on a hike that requires special boots?” Wayne shakes his head. “Don’t think I could bribe him to go on anything but an easy trail unless that Lars guy from Metallica was at the end of it.”

“So I’ll be fine in my Nikes?” Steve clarifies.

“Better than.” Wayne turns back to the truck bed. “I grabbed an extra pole for ya, but it’s a bit short. We can make it work, though.”

Steve stares at everything piled into the truck. Wayne stares at Steve.

He can’t read him quite like he can read Eddie, not yet, but he’s got a feeling that Steve’s overwhelmed by the effort. Wayne doesn’t know much about his upbringing, but he can imagine it was pretty lonely what with his parents being gone more than they were home.

He’s certain Richard Harrington wouldn’t even know how to cast a line, let alone catch a fish.

“Wayne! Should I just bring both?” Eddie’s standing barefoot on the top step of the deck, holding two pairs of sneakers up.

“Sure, Ed.” Wayne looks down at his bare feet and wrinkles his nose. “Don’t forget your socks.”

“Does he do that a lot?” Steve asks, still staring at everything in the truck.

“Not so much anymore. When he’s got a lot on his mind, though, he forgets little stuff. Socks, underwear, eating.” Wayne could go on, but he’s pretty sure Eddie will kill him if he does. “He’s excited for this trip so it probably isn’t at the front of his mind.”

“Right, yeah. I noticed that.” Steve finally looks at Wayne, small smile on his face. Fond, Wayne would say. “He was so caught up on picking up the kids for game night, he forgot the games.”

“Sounds like our boy,” Wayne said, waiting for any kind of negative reaction from Steve at his words.

But Steve’s smile grew, his cheeks flushing a light pink. He looked over at where Eddie had been standing moments ago, and Wayne watches him.

“Steve, I feel like-“

“Wayne! We forgot hot dogs!” Eddie calls from inside the trailer, front door wide open allowing him to see Eddie’s movement by the fridge. “And buns!”

Steve looks back at Wayne. “I can run and get some while you finish up here.”

“I already grabbed them. Check that red cooler and the bag next to it,” Wayne gestured towards three coolers along the side of the truck bed. “He wasn’t payin’ attention when I told him I was packin’ everything.”

“Not surprising.”

“We got it all Ed! Throw your bag in and let’s go!” Wayne calls towards the trailer. “He’s gonna throw a fit about ridin’ in the middle, but that’s what he gets for bein’ a bean pole.”

Steve snorts as he walks over to open the passenger door. “He’ll live.”

Wayne thinks Steve’s gonna fit right in.

- - -

The cabin is off the beaten path. It’s actually off of all paths. They’re lucky that Wayne’s friend visited recently to clear bushes and trees away so they could get to it.

Forest surrounds it on three sides, the lake is in the back.

It’s quiet, an escape for all of them, but especially for Eddie. Whatever thoughts are trying to cloud Eddie’s mind might just float away in the fresh air if he manages to relax enough.

They unload the truck efficiently, bringing everything inside except the fishing equipment, which stays on the front porch so Wayne can load it on the boat before nightfall. He doesn’t bother locking his truck up; There’s no one around for two miles at least.

Steve’s loading things into the fridge and Eddie’s…

“Where’s Ed?” Wayne asks as he grabs his duffel bag to bring to one of the bedrooms.

“Said he wanted to see how cold the water is,” Steve shrugs, shoving the beer to the side so he can make room for Eddie’s Mountain Dew. “Told him it’s probably not that cold since it’s August.”

“Anything less than boiling is too cold for that one,” Wayne chuckles. “I’ll go load the boat.”

He goes out the back door, immediately locating Eddie at the water’s edge. At least he didn’t go far. He was a bit of a flight risk at the best of times and these weren’t really the best of times.

His shoes and socks are off, sitting in the mix of sand and rocks that make up the shoreline. The rocks are smooth, worn down over thousands of years of water and animals and people. Perfect for skipping across the top of the water, splashes disrupting the calm of a lake with few visitors this close to the end of summer.

Wayne showed Eddie how to skip rocks years ago, not on this lake, but a much smaller one that they’d visited for the day the summer before he started high school. It took him about 100 tries before he got it, but when he did, he’d beamed back at Wayne, proud of himself for possibly the first time in his life.

But he’s not skipping rocks now. He’s standing at the shoreline, where the small waves break against the sand, staring out at the horizon. Wayne is tempted to leave him be, but he can’t.

He walks up behind him, makes sure to clear his throat so he isn’t completely startled when Wayne stops right where the water stops. It licks right at the toes of his boots, but they’re his work ones, steel-toe.

Eddie turns and gives him a small smile.

“Sorry, just wanted to dip my feet in.” Eddie apologizes as if Wayne would care that he’s already finding solace in the solitude of the lake.

“Stay out here as long as you want, kid. You okay?” Wayne watches as Eddie’s hands curl into fists and then relax against his thighs.

“Yeah. Thanks for bringing me out here. I’ll help load the boat,” Eddie offers, already turning towards Wayne fully and taking a step out of the water. Wayne holds his hand up to stop him. “What?”

“I got it. You can help pack the cooler in the mornin’.”

Eddie shrugs and turns back to the lake.

Wayne watches him for another minute, silent so he doesn’t disturb whatever thoughts are brewing in Eddie’s head.

As he walks back to the porch to grab the tackle boxes and poles for the boat, he sees Steve watching Eddie out the kitchen window, concerned frown and furrowed brow on his face.

Steve doesn’t notice him.

- - -

The first night is Wayne making dinner while Steve and Eddie argue over which side of the queen sized bed they’re sleeping on. He can’t help but laugh at how quickly it went from calmly suggesting the other person sleeps on the window side to personal insults.

When he hears Eddie say something about Steve’s hair being too big, he shouts for them to join him.

Dinner is relatively peaceful considering the warzone that was their shared bedroom moments before sitting down to eat. Everyone enjoys the chicken and green beans Wayne cooked, barely leaving any for leftovers. They talk about their plans for the morning, and Steve offers to clean up after they eat so Wayne can have an early night.

It’s kind of him, but he already knows their arguing is just gonna wake him up if they haven’t settled on the bed issue.

“How about you take turns sleepin’ by the window?” Wayne asks before agreeing to an early bedtime. “That way it’s fair.”

“But who has to sleep there tonight?” Eddie asks, sticking his tongue out at Steve.

“Rock, paper, scissors?”

“That’s stupid.”

Wayne raises his brow at Eddie’s crossed arms. “Draw straws then.”

“We don’t have straws.” Steve looks around the kitchen, trying to find something they can use in place of straws, but fails. “It’s fine. I’ll take the window.”

Wayne can tell he doesn’t want to, and he’s pretty sure he can guess why neither of them is thrilled with sleeping directly under a window that looks out into a dense forest, but Steve’s a self-sacrificial kind of guy. That’s been clear for as long as Wayne’s known him.

He also knows that Eddie, even as stubborn as he is, wouldn’t let a friend feel uncomfortable.

“I’ll take it tonight.” Eddie offers.

“No, it’s okay. I can take it.”

Wayne rolls his eyes. “Y’all will argue over anything.”

Steve and Eddie both turn to him with matching grins. “Mhm.” They agree in unison.

“Eddie takes window tonight,” Wayne says. “Steve can have it tomorrow night. Whoever catches the biggest fish this weekend gets to pick on the last night.”

“Sounds fair,” Steve nods, turning to Eddie to see if he agrees.

“Sure. Fair.” Eddie stands and starts clearing the drinks from the table.

Wayne decides to leave before he gets dragged into a new disagreement. He’s only got so much patience.

He’s not surprised to hear them go out the back door after the sun sets, voices quiet, but still audible through Wayne’s open bedroom window.

They don’t go far, just past the porch, about halfway to the water.

“You know, my dad would never have done anything like this with me,” Steve states, only a small hint of bitterness in his tone. “He didn’t believe in bonding time or whatever. Thought that was for fathers and sons who didn’t have a family business to maintain.”

“My dad never did either.” Eddie says back, and Wayne’s heart stops in his chest. “Probably couldn’t have stayed sober enough to make the drive to a place like this.”

Wayne waits for Steve to say something, anything. He waits for so long, he’s tempted to look out the window and see if he can see them under the light of the moon.

“Your dad didn’t deserve you,” Steve finally says, quieter than they’d been before, like he didn’t want to disrupt the quiet night with his words. “And you deserved better than him.”

“I had Wayne eventually. I have Wayne now.” Eddie replies just as quietly. “And you do too, ya know.”

Wayne isn’t much of a crier. He’s only done it a handful of times. But Eddie’s words make his eyes well up and his throat burn.

“He barely knows me,” Steve tries to argue.

“He knows enough. You were there for the worst of my shit. You still stick around. You’re here right now even though you could’ve turned down his invitation.” Eddie sounds like he’s holding back tears now. “If you mean a lot to me, you mean a lot to Wayne. You’ll just have to get used to it.”

Wayne wishes he could be a part of this conversation, or at least be able to see them both. He’s respecting their space as much as he can, though. He’s laying in his bed and biting back tears the way any respectful uncle would.

“I’m not used to meaning so much to someone.”

Wayne isn’t sure he hears him right, his voice breaking halfway through, but Steve couldn’t have said anything else.

He should stop listening. This is turning into something else entirely, he thinks. He shouldn’t hear whatever Eddie says next.

“You mean everything to me.”

Wayne closes his eyes, holds his breath, hopes that if Steve takes it the way he knows Eddie means it, that this doesn’t turn into a real fight. He hopes that Steve’s reaction is kind, even if it’s not what Eddie wants.

Wayne’s almost grateful that he can’t hear what Steve says next. Whether it’s rude or loving, he doesn’t want to be a part of this moment like this. He can’t close his window, they’d hear it. He can’t leave his room, he’ll just be in view when they come back inside.

He waits one minute, two, three. He hears a twig snap and then quiet giggling.

He smiles to himself as he hears footsteps heading back towards the cabin.

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

Eddie wakes up with Steve’s arms around him and something bubbling in his chest.

Could be heartburn, or it could be the love that’s been growing inside him for months.

He remembers their conversation last night, looking up at the stars and listening to the leaves gently brushing against each other in the breeze, and he can’t help the blush on his cheeks. When Steve kissed him last night, he was pretty sure he was dreaming.

This wasn’t a dream, though.

They stayed up way too late. Eddie knew the moment he looked at the clock as they got into bed and saw 1:48 in bright red that he’d struggle today.

He could hear Wayne moving around the cabin, probably making coffee and breakfast for them since they’d need an early start for fishing. It wasn’t Eddie’s favorite thing to do, but Wayne loved it, and Eddie loved Wayne.

Steve groaned as he moved one arm above his head.

Eddie looks up at him, blushing harder when Steve’s half-lidded eyes are already looking down at him. He’s smiling, cocky if Eddie’s reading him right.

“Sleep okay?” Steve’s sleep-raspy voice asks, fingers gliding across Eddie’s upper arm in unknown patterns.

“Mhm. Not long enough,” Eddie admits. “Could stay in bed.”

Steve hums in agreement before seemingly realizing that Wayne’s already up. “Don’t think we can skip out on Wayne, though.”

This is why Eddie has a hard time pushing his feelings down for Steve. He’s done this before, whether he realizes he did or not.

In the hospital, the day after he’d woken up, Steve had stopped by to bring some clothes for Wayne since he refused to leave Eddie’s side. The kids had apparently been hounding him to take them with him, but he stood his ground and told them that Eddie needed time with just Wayne right now and that he needed rest.

A few weeks later, Steve could’ve easily taken Eddie home by himself, but insisted on waiting for Wayne to get off of work to do it.

Just a week ago, Wayne had forgotten a few things at the store, and when Steve overheard him grumbling about having to make another trip, he offered to go.

That’s just who Steve is.

Eddie loves him for it.

“Yeah. He’d be so bored without me scaring the fish away with my constant humming and leg jiggling,” Eddie agrees seriously. “Wouldn’t want him to miss me.”

Steve lets out a loud laugh, and Eddie hides his pleased smile in Steve’s chest.

He can’t believe he’s doing this right now, can’t believe Steve’s arm tightens around him, pulls him closer so all he can feel and smell is Steve.

“You could just stay quiet while we fish,” Steve suggests, as if Eddie hasn’t thought of that already. “Just for a little bit.”

“That sounds boring.”

Steve pokes Eddie’s cheek with his other hand. Eddie nips at his fingertip before Steve can pull away. They both laugh.

It’s easy.

A knock on the door interrupts the casual cuddling, but Eddie knows it’s not because Steve’s ashamed to be caught with him like that. Steve isn’t used to this being okay.

“You boys up?” Wayne’s voice is barely muffled through the door, something Eddie notes for later.

“Yeah!” Eddie calls back, though he probably didn’t need to speak more than normal volume.

Steve is tense below him. Eddie hates that.

He tries to soothe him by running his hand along his side, memorizing the bumps of his scars, keeping his breathing even so Steve would calm down. Wayne wouldn’t walk in without Eddie telling him he could, but Steve must’ve assumed he didn’t respect his space that much.

“Breakfast is done. Just made eggs and toast.” Wayne knocks once more on the door before they can hear his footsteps walking back to the kitchen.

Steve relaxes and sighs.

“You don’t have to do that.” Eddie still traces along the scar on his hip. “Wayne’s cool.”

“I know.” Steve goes to sit up, but Eddie holds him down. “Eddie, I know. It’s okay. I didn’t mean to react like that.”

“There’s a price to pay before you get up.”

Steve snorts. “And what’s that?”

“A kiss.”

Steve kisses the top of Eddie’s head.

“Unfortunately, I won’t be accepting that form of payment.”

Steve’s hand cups Eddie’s cheek, thumb rubbing slowly as he guides his face up to look at him. Eddie hopes he can’t feel the heat on his skin, but the odds aren’t great.

“One kiss.”

“Only one?” Eddie pouts.

“Don’t wanna get carried away when we’re supposed to be getting up.” Steve leans in until his breath is hot against Eddie’s lips. “So one kiss and then you let me leave so we can go fishing with your uncle.”

“Fine.” Eddie can’t help smiling into the kiss. It’s quicker than he wants, but it’s perfect. When Steve pulls away, Eddie groans and falls flat on his back. “What if we fake sick?”

“You’re ridiculous,” Steve laughs as he gets out of bed and tries to get changed into regular clothes.

Eddie watches him, can’t wipe the smile off his face as Steve nearly trips over his own pant leg. He doesn’t even care if Steve catches him looking, not anymore.

He gets to look now.

After Eddie’s confession last night, after their first kiss, and the second and third, and talking for two hours by the water, it was pretty obvious that they were skipping over that new relationship awkwardness. Eddie hadn’t quite said he loved Steve, and Steve hadn’t said it either, but actions spoke louder than words. The way they couldn’t stop touching, the way Steve looked at Eddie while he talked about his most recent adventure with Dustin, the way Eddie watched Steve throw rocks as far as he could into the depths of the lake, it was all love.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I’m never leaving this room.” Steve is looking at him as he buttons his jeans and Eddie is considering sending Wayne on his own.

He waited months for this, but now it felt like waiting another hour was too much.

“Looking at you like what?” Eddie asks innocently.

“Like you wanna eat me.”

“Well…” Eddie wiggles his eyebrows and taps the bed. “I could eat breakfast in bed if you get back in it.”

Steve walks over to the bed, leans over Eddie, gets close enough to nip at his top lip.

“Get out of bed.” He presses a quick kiss to Eddie’s lips before walking to the door. He leaves it open as he leaves the room without looking back.

Eddie curses Steve’s ability to get him to do anything, and reluctantly gets out of bed. He throws on his shorts, a tank top, and ties his bandana in his hair so he doesn’t have to worry about it sticking to his forehead.

When he gets to the kitchen, Wayne and Steve are staring out the window and whispering.

“I didn’t think we’d see a marsh hawk. Population’s been down for the last decade,” Wayne’s saying as Eddie walks up on his other side. “I’ve only seen one before and that was during a trip to Lake Michigan when I was 14 or 15.”

Eddie looks out the window, trying to see what they see. He’s not sure what a marsh hawk looks like, but he’s assuming it’s one of the birds in the nearby trees.

Steve wordlessly points it out to him.

“That’s a cool bird.” Eddie says at a normal volume. The bird spreads its wings out, acting as if it might take off. It’s beautiful, the white along its beak and chest a stunning contrast to its dark brown wings.

“It’s good luck to see one in some cases,” Wayne whispers as he turns away from the window. “Seeing one on your wedding day is supposed to lead to a long and happy marriage.”

“Too bad no one’s getting married here today,” Eddie remarks as he grabs a plate and starts to scoop eggs onto it.

“Not married. But still good luck,” Steve mutters as he follows Eddie. “So we just have to grab the cooler on our way out?”

Wayne nods. “And the bait.”

“I thought we used plastic stuff.”

“We use lures, but we put worms on there to get the fish to actually bite,” Wayne explains. “I’ve got plenty of stuff for bass, but I dunno how lucky we’ll be.”

Eddie nods along as he takes a huge bite of toast. “One time we forgot worms and had to use hot dogs.”

“Fish eat hot dogs?” Steve asks in surprise.

“Some fish settle for hot dogs. They don’t quite realize ‘til it’s too late that it ain’t their food,” Wayne shrugs. “But we got plenty of worms for this trip. Should be perfect fishing conditions.”

They all ate in silence after that, but Eddie could feel Steve’s nerves building the closer they all got to clean plates.

Steve didn’t have to say it for Eddie to know he desperately wanted to impress Wayne, especially now that they were…something. They probably needed to clarify exactly what they were at some point soon. They would. Eventually. Tonight maybe.

Or tomorrow.

“I’ll clean up if you boys wanna finish getting ready.” Wayne offered as he scraped the last of his eggs onto his fork.

Eddie took him up on his offer, jumping up to go brush his teeth and get his sneakers on.

“You comin’?” He asks Steve, who’s still slowly eating the eggs he drenched in ketchup.

“Just a second,” Steve replies with his mouth full. “You can use the bathroom first.”

Eddie nods and leaves the room.

He hears the sink in the kitchen running a few seconds later, and the hushed voices of Wayne and Steve having a whispered conversation. He could sneak back, try to listen in, but he thinks that maybe Steve needs this minute alone with him.

He finishes what he needs to do quickly, though, and admittedly sneaks back towards the kitchen quieter than he normally would, hoping to overhear something interesting.

But all he walks into is Steve laughing as Wayne smiles back.

Eddie doesn’t find that he minds much, as long as they’re both happy.

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

Being on the boat is different as an adult.

The last time Eddie fished with Wayne on a boat, he was barely shoulder height on him and 100 pounds soaking wet. It was a much smaller boat, though, barely fit two grown adults comfortably.

This boat, however, was built for a family of at least four adults. The awning covered half of the boat, so Eddie didn’t have to sit in direct sunlight when the sun finally rose.

Steve stood to the side, watching Wayne prep the lures and bait, casting his own line out and reeling it in until it was taut. Eddie went next, making a show of it just like he always did. Wayne doesn’t comment, just shakes his head and smiles fondly as he watches the water.

“Um,” Steve starts. “I guess it’s my turn.”

Eddie’s pretty sure Wayne knows Steve’s nervous. It’s hard not to tell with how quiet he’s been the entire ride to the middle of the lake.

Wayne sets his pole in the stand at the stern, and turns to Steve with his hands on his hips. “You saw how I cast mine?”

Steve nods, but doesn’t look sure. Eddie’s not really used to seeing Steve anything less than confident, even in the face of monsters.

It hits him the moment he thinks about monsters.

They’re on a lake. A lake very similar, though much larger, to the same lake that almost dragged Steve to his death. A lake he’d previously trusted, and no longer could.

Eddie doesn’t say anything, just subtly places his hand against Steve’s hip, offering whatever comfort he can. Steve won’t admit he’s scared, but Eddie doesn’t need him to.

Wayne sees it, Eddie knows he does. But because he’s the best uncle, he doesn’t say anything.

He raises a brow and then schools his features back to a comforting smile before showing Steve how to hold the pole so he can cast it comfortably and far enough out that movements from the boat don’t scare the fish from the hook.

Eddie watches, and he sees the nerves slowly easing from Steve’s shoulders, his forehead, and his arms. He relaxes inch by inch, and Eddie couldn’t be more in love.

Wayne steps back so Steve can cast his line.

When the bobber hits the water, Wayne smiles and pats his shoulder. “Good job, son. Now reel it in a bit so you can feel if something bites. Good. Now we just wait.”

Steve turns red at the praise and Eddie realizes that Steve probably hasn’t heard a “good job” from an adult in a very, very long time.

Eddie’s childhood was fucked, but at least Wayne was there cheering him on, showing him what it meant to be proud of your kid eventually. He’s pretty sure Steve hasn’t had that for most of his life.

“How long do we wait?” Steve asks after a few minutes.

The lake is near silent, and the water is so smooth it looks like glass. If Eddie leaned over, he’d probably be able to see his reflection. The gentle lapping of water on the side of the boat and the distant sound of birds in the trees lining the water’s edge fills the air.

“I usually give it 10 or 15 minutes before reeling it in. Check my bait, maybe change the lure if there’s no bites.” Wayne’s watching the end of Steve’s line as he speaks. “I used bass lures on all of ours, but we might change them up in a minute. See what else is out there.”

Steve nods and turns back.

Wayne doesn’t take his eyes off of Steve’s bobber.

Eddie watches Wayne curiously.

Anytime he’s fished with Wayne, he’s left Eddie to his own devices after showing him what to do. He watches his own line, and only steps in to help if Eddie catches something and doesn’t wanna touch the fish.

Wayne’s eyes widen just as Steve exclaims, “Hey! Look!”

“Reel it in!” Wayne shouts, setting his pole down again and rushing to stand next to Steve.

Eddie turns and watches as Steve reels in whatever he’s caught. Judging by the bend in the pole, it’s a decent sized fish.

“Shit, what if it breaks?” Steve asks, voice shaking with the effort of trying to reel in the fish before it escapes.

“It won’t. Keep going.”

When they manage to get the fish out of the water and into the boat, Steve is breathless.

“Look at that!” Wayne holds up the line, right above where the hook is caught in the fish’s mouth, beaming at Steve. “Our boy got himself a king salmon!”

Ignoring his mention of “our” boy, Eddie steps closer and grips Steve’s shoulder, shaking him just enough to make the boat rock.

“How can you tell?” Steve asks Wayne, reaching out to hold the fish up himself.

“You see all these black spots on his back and fins?” Wayne points at a few of the spots. “Other salmon don’t have this many spots or any at all. You keepin’ him or throwin’ him back?”

Steve looks at Eddie, smile falling as he suddenly looks unsure about what the right thing to do is. Before Eddie can say anything, Wayne wraps his arm around Steve’s shoulders.

“Either is fine with me. Could cook him up for supper if you wanna keep him or send him back to his friends with a new piercing.” Wayne looks over at Eddie. “Eddie ain’t much for seafood, but I make a mean baked salmon.”

Steve nods. “Yeah, think I’ll keep this one.”

Wayne pats his shoulder again before showing him how to unhook the fish safely. He opens up the empty cooler he brought and places the fish inside.

Wayne moves to grab the bait so Steve can set up again, and while his back is turned, Eddie takes a chance.

He leans over and kisses the corner of Steve’s mouth.

“You’re a natural,” Eddie whispers as he leans away again.

“Shut up.” Steve is blushing that same pretty pink that he was last night and earlier this morning. Eddie can’t look away. “Just lucky.”

Wayne catches two rainbow trout and Eddie manages to catch a small northern pike, which quickly gets thrown back when Eddie starts to make up a story about how it’s a teenager who got separated from its parents. Wayne shakes his head as Eddie carries on, but he’s used to it. Eddie never keeps his catch if he’s lucky enough to have one.

They relax as the day warms up, popping open cans of soda as the sun gets closer to the middle of the sky. It’s not about fishing anymore; It’s about soaking up the tranquility of their surroundings.

Eddie isn’t known for being still or quiet, but even he can let himself enjoy this. Every day since March has been about survival, and appointments, and witness statements, and lawyers, and moving, and the kids. He feels like he’s barely even had time to think.

So while he sits on this boat with two of his favorite people, he thinks.

He thinks about how different his life is now, and how different it could still be.

He thinks about how much Wayne has sacrificed for him for most of his life, but especially the last five months.

He thinks about how much he wants to tell Steve he loves him.

He thinks he’ll tell him tonight.

📼📼📼📼📼

Steve sits on the porch while Wayne cleans the fish, staying a good distance away so he doesn’t end up seeing things that’ll make him wish he left the poor salmon in the lake. Eddie’s inside doing god knows what.

He’s never been happier.

He does wish Robin could be here, but she hates the outdoors. She didn’t even like going on her family’s beach trip last month.

Plus, he’s pretty sure he wouldn’t have been able to have the alone time he needed with Eddie last night if she were here. Even though she’s been telling him to just talk to him for the last three months, she wouldn’t have caught on to his plan.

Feeling this much for Eddie isn’t new.

After the events of spring break, Steve took a long, hard look at high school and realized that at least part of the reason he was always staring at Eddie was because he was very interested. He started looking for any excuse to stick around in Eddie’s hospital room, and then offered to take him to appointments, and it continued from there.

Now, they hang out almost every day. Sometimes it’s with the kids, sometimes with Robin, sometimes alone.

Steve realizes that even before they kissed and fell asleep holding each other and flirted as much as possible all day, this was the best relationship he’s ever had. He needs to tell Eddie as soon as they’re alone.

“All done,” Wayne says as he steps onto the porch, the container of cleaned fish in his hand. “You ready to learn the secret to makin’ the best fish?”

Steve is quick to nod, excited that Wayne thinks he’s even worth the time it’ll take to show him. Wayne’s been so kind this entire trip, making sure Steve is involved and welcomed, makes him feel like he belongs in their little family.

As Wayne grabs everything they’ll need, Steve sees Eddie through their bedroom door, writing in a journal, tongue poking between his lips as he concentrates. Steve’s never seen this journal, but he can assume it’s another one of his many already filled with songs and campaign ideas.

“You done starin’ at Ed?” Wayne’s voice is quiet behind him, but still makes him jump with surprise.

“Wasn’t staring at him. Thought I saw a…um…bug?” Steve knows he’s been caught halfway through trying to lie, so he moves on. “Ready?”

“Are you?” Wayne raises a brow and smirks.

“Yes!” Steve puts his hands on his hips. “What are you implying?”

“Mostly that you’re too in love with my nephew to focus on what I’m sayin’.”

Steve feels heat in his cheeks, but he chooses to ignore it and pretend that he can distract Wayne from what he’s saying.

“So we’re frying your fish and baking my salmon?” Steve starts holding up some of the spices Wayne’s set out on the counter. He can feel Wayne’s eyes on him. “Looks like you like spice.”

“Steve.” Wayne sighs. “It’s okay to feel however you feel. I ain’t gonna judge.”

“Right. Yeah.” Steve turns to finally look at Wayne, who looks sad. He shouldn’t look sad right now.

“Eddie ever tell ya about Paul?” Wayne starts filling one pan with oil and the other with a few small pads of butter.

Steve shakes his head, watching closely.

“Paul was my boyfriend when Ed first came to live with me.”

Steve’s eyes widen as that hits him.

“Woulda been my husband had we been able to be married.” Wayne starts mixing flour, salt, and pepper in a bowl while he talks. “He was a long haul truck driver. Gone for weeks at a time. Stayed with me when he passed through. Came home one day to Eddie asleep in the bed we usually shared and asked if I’d been up to something.”

Wayne smiles fondly down at the bowl of eggs, buttermilk, lemon juice, and garlic he’d started mixing together as he spoke.

“Told him everything. Expected him to call it quits. He didn’t sign up for raising a troubled kid, especially not one who may not be okay with what we had.” Wayne stops and looks up at Steve. “But he just hugged me and said he’d follow my lead. Whatever was best for Ed was what was best for us. Ain’t sure I could ever find a love like that again.”

Steve can feel tears trying to form in his eyes, but he manages to bite them back. He’s pretty sure he knows where this is going, but he listens without interrupting.

“Ed didn’t take too well to him at first. Probably ‘cause he was in and out so much, didn’t get time to bond with him like I did. Paul was patient. Always so patient with both of us.” Wayne shakes his head and looks down at the counter before he looks up smiling again. “Ed came out to Paul first, ya know? When he was 13. He’d gone on a short haul with him over the summer and when they came back, they were thick as thieves. Paul told me that night that Ed had told him he liked boys and it changed their entire relationship. I was Uncle Wayne, but Paul was like a dad to him. Definitely more than his own dad ever was.”

Wayne looked over to check that Eddie was still in the bedroom, distracted by his writing.

“Paul started taking short hauls instead of long ones. Only gone three or four days at a time instead of 14-20. Thought it was so he could be close to Ed, since we’d kinda become our own little family.”

Steve realizes he’s holding his breath when Wayne sniffs.

“He’d gotten sick and didn’t tell us. Started out thinkin’ it was pneumonia, but it got worse. Doctor thought it was heart problems, but it was everywhere. Leukemia. Untreatable by the time they figured it out.”

Steve’s wrapping his arms around Wayne before he even realizes he’s doing it, letting the tears fall as he thinks about how much pain Wayne and Eddie must’ve gone through to lose someone so important to them.

“Ed was barely 14 when he passed. I think he took it harder than me.”

Steve can’t even imagine. Wayne lost someone he loved, but Eddie lost a father figure after losing his real father to things he should never have had to compete with. And now Eddie’s father was really dead.

All he really has is Wayne.

“Kid shaved his head in solidarity when Paul lost what little hair he had left,” Wayne huffs a wet laugh as they pull away from each other. “Couldn’t believe it when I got home from work and they were both bald as cue balls. Thought they’d lost it.”

Steve and Wayne are both laughing, and it’s probably going to draw Eddie’s attention, but he kinda hopes it does. He could use Eddie’s closeness right now. He needs to see that he’s okay, that this didn’t completely destroy him, that he went on anyway.

But all Eddie does is yell at them to keep it down, which just makes them laugh harder.

“And you never dated anyone else?” Steve asks as Wayne starts putting his fishin the egg mixture. “Not even for fun?”

“Nah. Once Paul was gone, I had to work more to pay the bills. What little time I had was spent with Ed. He was my priority, always.”

Steve wipes the tears from his cheeks as he watches Wayne drop the fish into the hot oil.

“What about now?” Eddie was busy with his own life now, and they’d received enough money from the government to cover their new trailer and have plenty leftover to cover bills. Wayne was retired and had plenty of time to start dating again.

“I got lucky with Paul. It ain’t fair to compare any future relationship to what we had and I think that’s all I’d do. I’m happy the way things are for now.”

Steve drops it for now, but he makes a note to ask Eddie about it soon. He’s surprised Eddie never mentioned Paul, or even the fact that Wayne was gay, especially when he came out to Steve and Robin while he was still in the hospital.

Wayne goes on to explain how long he keeps the fish in the oil before flipping them to make sure the cooking is even, and how putting them onto paper towels to cool drains too much of the grease.

As Steve watches him prep the salmon with a glaze he made from garlic, honey, and lemon juice, Eddie finally comes out of the bedroom.

“Smells like fish,” he says with a grin.

“That’d be the fish.” Wayne doesn’t even bother looking over at him as he leans against the counter. “Salmon is already a tender fish, so you can bake it to whatever you prefer. It should only take about 10 minutes on 400 unless you like it extra crispy, then you may wanna do it for 13 minutes.”

“Chef Wayne teaching you everything you need to know?” Eddie asks Steve, stepping close enough for Steve to feel the heat coming from his body.

“He’s pretty talented. Might need to consider opening a restaurant,” Steve teases.

“Wait ‘til you have his steak. So tender you could cut it with a spoon.”

“Don’t know what you’re after with your compliments, but I’d rather ya just ask for it.” Wayne checked the clock as he closed the oven door.

“I was just bein’ nice!” Eddie exclaims, throwing his arms up in frustration. Steve never noticed how Eddie’s accent changes the more time he spends around Wayne, but he smiles to himself when it slips now. “See if I give ya a compliment again, old man.”

Steve watches as they banter back and forth some more, both of them smiling and laughing the entire time.

It’s nothing like what Steve was used to. His parents never bantered, only fought. Anything that was big enough for discussion, was big enough to yell about. As Steve got older, he learned that staying quiet and letting them get it out would usually turn out better for him. Luckily, once he reached middle school, they didn’t bother coming home enough for him to worry about what to do when they were arguing.

He doesn’t remember a time when there was fun and laughter between them, not even when he was a young child. He can remember his mom dancing with him while his dad was gone on business trips, but the moment he arrived home, the air became thick with tension and her attitude became somber. He remembers one time when his dad let him sit on his desk while he worked, making paper airplanes and having a competition to see how far they could fly, but the moment the phone rang, he was hissing a ‘get out’ with no explanation for the abrupt stop to the fun.

Steve couldn’t imagine talking to either of his parents the way Eddie talks to Wayne, but he also couldn’t imagine receiving the love from them that Wayne so easily gives to Eddie.

And now that he knows another piece of their story, he can see how they’ve come to be like this, comfortable with each other in ways many kids never are with their parents.

Steve’s mind continues to wander throughout dinner, but no one calls him out on it. Maybe Wayne somehow communicated with Eddie that they’d had a serious conversation. Maybe it was just obvious that Steve was far away from the table. Eddie and Wayne chattered as they ate, and Steve let the constant echoes of their voices be the background noise to his thoughts.

“Stevie?” Eddie’s hand touched his cheek, shaking him out of the path he was lost on. “Wayne’s gonna take a walk. You wanna go?”

Steve smiles up at Eddie before looking down at his plate. He barely remembers eating, but he only has a few small pieces of salmon left.

“Sounds good.”

Eddie looks concerned, but Steve brushes him off. He looks around, and when he doesn’t see Wayne in the room with them, turns his face so he can kiss Eddie’s palm.

“Should we grab the bug spray?” Steve asks as he stands, pushing in his chair and grabbing his plate off the table to wash it.

“Wayne’s got it outside. Think he put enough on for all of us,” Eddie follows close behind Steve. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. Just thinking.”

“About?”

“A lot.” Steve brushes it off so they can join Wayne. “Ready?”

Eddie nods and leads the way out of the cabin.

They ate an early dinner, so the sun is still high in the sky as they make their way down a trail that follows the lake’s edge. Eddie occasionally gets distracted by colorful rocks, holding them up excitedly for Steve and Wayne to acknowledge.

Steve knows the love he has for Eddie is written all over his face.

He doesn’t care to hide it.

Wayne’s quiet as they walk, occasionally pointing out a fish splashing in the distance or a heron standing in the water. He swats a mosquito away from Steve’s face, only for the mosquito to turn around and bite his hand. Eddie’s far too busy climbing over fallen limbs and branches of trees to notice what they’re doing.

“You boys should go for a swim when we get back. Water’s cool.” Wayne makes the suggestion without looking at Steve, who suddenly feels like he’s being studied under a microscope.

“Not sure if Eddie even brought a swimsuit.” Steve laughs it off, hopes they can go back to silence or change the subject.

“I’m sure you boys could figure something out.”

Thankfully, the topic gets dropped and Steve is left wondering if Wayne knows.

Sure, he joked about Steve being in love with Eddie earlier, but that wasn’t a confirmation that he knew they were together. He thought they’d been careful today, but maybe Wayne caught them when they kissed by the truck when Eddie was grabbing his wallet from the glovebox.

He doesn’t have time to think about it more because Eddie lets out a yelp and they can only watch as he falls on his ass into a muddy spot between two large rocks.

“I hate the outdoors,” he grumbles as he stands.

Wayne is laughing, but Steve is rushing over to make sure he’s okay.

“Are you hurt?” Steve’s hands are hovering over him, trying to figure out if he sees any blood. “Did you hit your head?”

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” Eddie replies quietly, holding his arms out as if trying to show proof. “My dignity may be a bit bruised.”

They’re interrupted by the hooting of an owl. It’s loud enough that Wayne shushes them and starts looking around at the trees surrounding them, trying to locate the creature.

It hoots again before Wayne locates it, pointing to a tree only ten feet away and to their right.

“Wow.” Steve says as he gets a close look at it, the white and tan feathers blending into beautiful patterns. “It’s so small. I thought owls were bigger.”

Eddie’s looking up at it, smiling.

To Steve’s shock, he’s the one who responds, not Wayne.

“It’s a northern saw-whet owl. They’re closer to the size of a robin than an owl you may be thinking of.” Eddie reaches for Steve’s hand and squeezes it once before letting it drop. “Paul taught me about all kinds of owls.”

Steve’s head snaps towards him. “You heard us this morning, didn’t you?”

“You weren’t quiet,” Eddie shrugged. “I used to be obsessed with nocturnal animals. He bought me a book about bats and owls for Christmas and went through it page by page with me.”

“I remember that book,” Wayne looks at the owl while he talks. “Paul said it made him nervous to go out at night.”

Eddie laughs. “He was convinced we’d get attacked.”

Steve can’t blame him. The longer he looks at the owl’s impossibly large eyes and spread wings, the more he believes he’s being hunted.

“Ready to head back?” Wayne asks after another minute, drawing his attention away.

“Wish I had a camera like Byers. Probably could get a good picture.” Eddie says as he starts to walk back the way they came.

Steve takes note to ask Jonathan about his so he can get him one for Christmas.

When they make it back to the cabin, Wayne excuses himself to take a shower and do a crossword before bed, which leaves Steve and Eddie to fill their time however they want. Steve thinks back to Wayne’s suggestion about going for a swim, but he’s not sure Eddie would want to now that the sun’s almost set.

He’s not even sure he wants to get into the lake after dark.

But it does sound appealing, especially with the layer of damp sweat coating his skin from their walk. And there is a light on the dock that would make it easier to at least see each other.

“Wanna go for a swim?” Steve asks Eddie as he sips on a soda.

“Now?” Eddie looks out the window in the kitchen, frowning at the darkness looming.

“Now.”

“It’s dark.”

“We can turn on the light at the dock. C’mon. Just a quick dip,” Steve nudges his shoulder as he starts walking to the back door, fully dressed.

“You’re not gonna change?” Eddie asks in disbelief.

“Don’t plan on wearing my clothes in.” Steve winks as he leaves, knowing Eddie will follow him even if he’s hesitant to do so.

Within seconds, the back door is closing and Eddie is on his heels.

“Are we seriously skinny dipping in the lake while my uncle is here?” Eddie hisses out, hand covering Steve’s forearm.

“I’m skinny dipping. You can do whatever you want,” Steve responds. “But I wouldn’t complain if you joined me.”

Eddie huffs beside him, but still follows him the rest of the way to the water’s edge. The light has a covered power switch to their right, but now that they’re in an open area by the water, they realize the moon is pretty bright.

Steve starts stripping off his shirt, then his shoes and socks. Eddie watches, probably trying to decide if he’s gonna join him or go back inside and pretend Steve isn’t naked in the water. When Steve pulls his pants off, Eddie sighs and starts untying his boots.

“Can’t believe you have me getting into another lake. Wasn’t the first time enough?” Eddie’s grumbling loud enough for Steve to hear, but quiet enough that Steve only catches every couple of words and has to use context clues for the rest. He can’t hold back a smile when he shoves his underwear down and leaves them on top of his pile of clothes.

Eddie is still grumbling as he removes his own clothes, enough that he’s distracting himself from realizing Steve’s already naked and waiting for him.

When he looks up, his eyes widen and his jaw drops open.

“You’re gonna catch flies like that,” Steve steps closer as he speaks, feeling more nervous than he expected to. “Probably should get in so the mosquitos don’t get us.”

“Right.” Eddie shakes his head, closing his eyes so he can focus. “Yes. Let’s get in.”

Steve grabs his hand and walks them both to the water. The water is chilly, but not uncomfortably cold. He knows in the next few weeks, the temperature will drop enough at night to cause the lake to be freezing cold. But right now, it’s perfect.

Being here with Eddie is perfect.

Eddie breathes out slowly as they keep walking further in, squeezing Steve’s hand.

“All good?” Steve asks when they’re waist deep.

“Yep. All good. How uh…how far do you wanna go?” Eddie’s looking out at what little they can see of the lake, even with the moonlight glistening off the tiny waves of the lake.

“Just a little more.”

Steve doesn’t take Eddie’s trust for granted here, knows that he’s asking a lot of him.

When the water is just below his collarbone, he stops.

Eddie is tense next to him, but doesn’t seem to be panicking.

“Okay?” Steve asks.

Eddie looks around and then settles back on Steve. “I’m okay.”

Something about the way he says it makes Steve pause, though.

“You can let it out if you need to, baby,” he offers. He’s not sure what it is specifically that makes him think Eddie’s on the edge of tears, but he wants to give him the chance to cry. “I’m right here.”

Eddie doesn’t sob, or cry, or do anything for a minute. They’re both looking out at the dark lake and the moon above, listening to crickets and a gentle breeze in the leaves of the trees nearby. Eddie’s breathing just stops for a few seconds and that’s all the warning Steve gets before he’s sniffling and talking.

“My dad was a piece of shit,” he starts. Steve is gonna follow his lead, and listen, and let Eddie tell him whatever he wants to. Even if that’s all he says. “He hated me. Pretty sure he hated my mom towards the end of her life, too. Anything that put attention on someone other than him was no good. That’s why he got involved with the closest thing Hawkins had to a mafia.”

Steve rubs his thumb against the side of Eddie’s hand under the water, prompting him to continue.

“He ranked pretty high with them so he got plenty of attention. Forgot that he had a wife and a kid. When my mom died, he temporarily got more attention from everyone. Made sure he looked like the mourning husband trying to be strong for the son he barely knew. Even at four and five years old I knew he was full of shit. But at least he was taking me with him sometimes, showing me cool shit. He got arrested when I was seven for petty theft and possession of drugs. Got lucky that the judge believed his sob story of being the only one who could take care of me.” Eddie scoffed. “Paid a fine with money he stole and had to do 80 hours of community service that his boss signed off on after a few weeks. Didn’t care that the only meals I ate were at school and the neighbor’s house when she saw me alone for dinner. Didn’t care that I never had school supplies or clothes that fit. Didn’t care that I missed school anytime I missed the bus, which was often because he never gave me an alarm clock to set to get up in time.”

Steve wants to cry, hearing how shitty Eddie’s childhood was, but he refuses to right now. He doesn’t want Eddie to stop talking.

“When I was nine, he taught me how to steal a car. I could barely see over the steering wheel, but it was the first time I made him proud.” Eddie clears his throat. “He got sent to prison when I was 11. I got put in the system because everything is a mess and Wayne wasn’t even listed as my uncle anywhere. Wayne heard about it all a few weeks later and didn’t stop pushing to have me in his care until they gave in. I’m surprised they put up so much of a fight considering they don’t usually care that much about poor kids with shit parents. Wayne fought for me and I didn’t even know how much he did until I was older.”

Steve glances over to see tears falling down Eddie’s face. He let go of Eddie’s hand to wrap his arm around his waist instead, pulling him against his side.

“He didn’t have to do that. He just knew what a piece of shit my dad was and apparently checked on me a few times a year without me or him knowing. And he told you about Paul.” Steve nods. “Paul was in and out a lot at first, made me suspicious. Thought he was up to no good and just using Wayne as a place to sleep when he wasn’t in the truck. But then he took me with him a few times over the summer and we got closer. I don’t think Wayne even knows how much that man loved him. He was gonna start working more local jobs sooner until I came into the picture and Wayne was struggling to keep up with bills. Long haul makes more money, so he stayed out. Made sure I had clothes and school supplies, made sure I ate three meals a day and had whatever snacks I wanted. Sent payments to the electric company before Wayne even got the bill so I never had to worry about sleeping through alarms or not being able to take a hot shower.”

Steve didn’t realize he was crying until Eddie reached his thumb up to wipe away a tear.

“He was my father in the ways that mattered to me, just like Wayne has been. Losing him was more painful than anything I feel about my dad dying now. All I feel now is guilt that I feel anything at all.”

Steve uses the arm wrapped around Eddie’s waist and the weightlessness the water allows to lift him up and guide his legs around his waist. He’s looking up at the man he loves, holding the back of his thighs, and wishing he could take every shitty feeling away with his words of comfort.

“You can feel however you feel. I’ll love you through it all,” Steve reassures him. Eddie’s breath catches at his words, and Steve knows he chose the right thing to say at the right time. “No one who cares about you is gonna judge you for having any emotion about your dad dying. If you wanted to stand in the middle of a table in the cafeteria at the school and cheer, I’d sit at the table and cheer you on. If you want to show up at his grave and scream and cry, I’ll hold your hand the whole time. So will Wayne. And so would Paul.”

Eddie sobs as he wraps his arms around Steve’s neck and hides his face against Steve’s neck. Steve can feel the wetness of his tears, can feel his own still falling into the water below. He doesn’t care how long they stay like that, doesn’t even care if this is all they do all night.

But only a few minutes later, Eddie is pulling back and looking down at Steve, hands playing with the wet ends of his hair.

“I didn’t expect any of this this weekend,” he admits. “I should learn to stop having expectations.”

Steve’s lips turn up in a half-smile as Eddie rests his forehead against his. “Better or worse than what you expected?”

Eddie snorts. “Better. Always better with you.”

Steve’s glad it’s dark enough to hide his blush, but he’s sure Eddie knows what he does to him by now. If he doesn’t, he will soon enough.

Eddie traces a line along Steve’s neck, gently poking at his moles as he watches his own movements. Steve holds him, lets him do what he wants, feels every touch like lightning.

“I love you,” he finally says, barely more than a whisper, like he’s unsure it’s okay, even after Steve’s confession. “I think I have for a while.”

Steve wants to kiss him, but this moment still feels like a part of Eddie’s monologue. He wants Eddie to lead now, to show him how to love him. Whatever he needs, Steve will give it willingly and gladly.

“How long until Wayne comes to make sure we didn’t drown?” Eddie asks.

“Probably not unless we’re still gone by morning.”

“As lovely as being in your arms all night sounds, I don’t know if I’d wanna stay in the water that long,” Eddie laughs as his legs tighten around Steve’s waist. Their mostly soft cocks brush against each other, making them both inhale loudly. “A little longer might not be so bad, though.”

Steve’s finding it harder not to kiss him, not to let his hands wander from Eddie’s thighs, up to his waist, back to his ass. He resists, but Eddie shifts his weight again and everything gets harder.

“You’re killing me.” Steve groans, letting his head fall back so he can look up at the stars in the sky instead of the ones in Eddie’s eyes.

“Look at me.” Eddie’s tone’s shifted to something serious, still adorned with an affection Steve can’t believe he gets to hear. Steve looks at him with his lips parted and unblinking eyes. “I wanna be yours. Will you let me?”

Steve nods. That’s all he can do.

Eddie’s lips are against his, gently coaxing them apart further so he can slip his tongue inside. Steve’s not even thinking about how he hasn’t brushed his teeth or eaten a mint since supper, the warmth of Eddie’s hands circling behind his back and rubbing his shoulders enough of a distraction even without his tongue gliding against the roof of his mouth.

Eddie’s hands are slow, but on a very clear path downwards as his tongue traces Steve’s bottom lip. Steve lets his own hands slip to Eddie’s lower back, lets a finger trace up and back down his spine.

Eddie shivers in his arms.

“Cold?” Steve whispers.

Eddie shakes his head. “Feels good.”

So Steve does it again, with more pressure, hoping Eddie gets the hint.

When Eddie’s hips grind forward, he knows he did.

They’re both nearly fully hard now, lips meeting again, hungrier and biting. Their moans vibrate between their chests, every movement rippling the water around them.

Eddie’s rocking his hips back and forth, friction against their cocks not quite enough to do more than get them more worked up.

The water doesn’t feel cool anymore, Steve’s body already adjusted to the temperature the moment Eddie’s hands were on him.

“Can I touch you?” Eddie asks, bringing Steve out of his thoughts about doing this in his pool when they got home. His hand is flat against Steve’s stomach, fingertips dragging through his happy trail.

“Want you to feel good too, love,” Steve trails one of his hands to Eddie’s front, stopping for a moment on the angry scars covering his side. “Together?”

Eddie slides impossibly closer, wrapping his hand around both of their cocks at once. Steve’s legs would’ve buckled without the help of the lake holding him up.

“Together is good,” Eddie smirks as his hand works them both over, squeezing at the tip the way Steve likes.

Steve had every intention of helping, but he’s doing all he can to keep his feet on the sandy ground and Eddie’s legs wrapped around his waist. He whimpers as Eddie leans in to kiss him slowly, a contradiction to his hand speeding up around them.

“Eddie, I’m…close.” Steve pants against his lips when he pulls back for air. His toes are curling in the sand below, and the small waves around them are splashing against their necks as Eddie’s hand moves faster. Steve’s bucking up into his touch, doesn’t care how desperate he seems.

“Me too, Stevie.” Eddie reassures him, just as breathless as Steve is.

Despite the words spoken and the increasing heat coiling in his belly, Steve gasps in surprise when he comes. He’s even more surprised when Eddie is right behind him, whispering Steve’s name repeatedly as his grip around them tightens then loosens.

Chests heaving, legs shaking, they stare at each other in the glow of the moonlight.

“I normally last a lot longer,” Steve breaks the silence.

Eddie breaks into loud laughter, head falling onto Steve’s shoulder before he realizes that the water is too high to do that without getting wet. He drops his legs and stands, keeping his arms wrapped around Steve’s waist for stability.

“New record for me, too, baby.”

“Next time, we’ll take our time.” Steve promises not only Eddie, but himself. He knows he has better self control than what Eddie just witnessed.

“You wanna head inside and take our time there?” Eddie’s smirking at him, fingers playfully teasing his sides under the water.

“Not sure I can be quiet enough.”

“Even if you bite a pillow?” Eddie pouts.

“I can be pretty loud,” Steve laughs, poking his bottom lip back to normal. “Plus, I’d like to be in one of our own beds when we ma- have sex.”

“Oh my god. Were you gonna say make love?” Eddie is squeezing his arms around him, lifting Steve up so most of his chest is out of the water. Steve’s hands rest against his shoulders, fingertips pruned from being in the water for a while.

“Maybe I was.” Steve knows he’s a sap. He doesn’t care if Eddie thinks it’s silly or stupid, but he does wanna avoid blowing this before it even has a chance to begin.

Eddie must see something in his eyes to keep him from pushing it more. He lets him back down slowly, soft smile on his face.

“I love that you care that much.” Eddie kisses the corner of Steve’s mouth. “I promise we’ll hold off on making love until we’re back home.”

Steve smiles shyly back at him.

“But I wouldn’t be opposed to getting my mouth on you after we shower.”

Steve smacks Eddie’s arm and rolls his eyes.

“You’re ridiculous. I love you.”

“You really do, don’t you?” Eddie sounds awestruck, like it’s suddenly hit him that this is happening, that Steve feels this much for him.

“I really do.”

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

Waking up in Steve’s arms for the second morning in a row felt too good to be true.

Most of this trip had felt too good to be true. Last night definitely felt like a dream.

He lets his eyes track over Steve’s bare chest, his neck, his lips pouting out as he sleeps. His eyelids are fluttering, but he’s still asleep, probably coming out of a dream.

Eddie’s fingers trace what’s left of the scar around his neck, touch light enough that Steve wouldn’t feel it in his sleep. He thinks about Steve’s bravery, how he dived head first into everything, be it protecting people from monsters or falling in love. Eddie knows Steve went without medical care after most run-ins in the Upside Down, and had only gotten some last time when Wayne insisted he do so while Eddie was in surgery.

The neck scars faded after they were patched up by a nurse, but many of his other wounds were deeper and infected, leaving a permanent reminder on his back and sides much like Eddie’s.

He traced along the outer lines of one of the scars shaped like a heart on his chest. Steve insisted it was just a weird oval, but Eddie insisted that it was a heart over his heart.

His chest hair has grown back in around it, nearly covering it up if you didn’t look close enough.

Eddie is close enough now.

It’s definitely a heart.

“Not sure how I feel about you staring at my chest that close,” Steve’s raspy voice fills his ear and he looks up to see Steve’s sleepy eyes looking at him. “Max at least had the decency to look from a distance.”

“Ha.” Eddie fake laughs. “I was just admiring your bountiful chest hair and the heart you wear on your sleeve.”

“It’s not a heart,” Steve groans as he covers Eddie’s head with his arms, pulling him on top of him. “You’re just blinded by love.”

“Who knew I’d be the optimist in this relationship?” Eddie breathes against Steve’s lips.

“Probably everyone who’s ever seen me in a relationship.” Steve kisses him quick, just a peck. “Let me up.”

“You’re the one who put me here.” Eddie doesn’t move. “Take me with you if you need to go so badly.”

“Eds, c’mon. I gotta brush my teeth.”

“So do I.”

Steve sighs. Eddie smiles.

“Fine.”

As Steve stands from the bed, Eddie wraps his legs around his waist, a mirror image to their time in the lake. Eddie’s not actually expecting Steve to carry him more than a few steps, but he blushes when he makes it all the way to the bedroom door.

“Still wanna come with me?” Steve raises his eyebrows like he knows Eddie didn’t expect him to take it this far.

“Can you seriously carry me down the hall?”

Steve stares blankly back at him. “I carried you for almost a mile when we got out of the Upside Down.”

“Touché.”

Steve manages to open the door with one hand before it goes back to Eddie’s leg, hoisting him up further so he has a better grip. Eddie just stares down at Steve’s face in amazement.

“Hey Wayne,” Steve says as they pass Wayne’s room. “Sleep okay?”

“Uh huh. There a reason you’re carrying the prince?” Wayne asks, causing Eddie to turn his head and scowl. “Wake up grumpy?”

“Woke up lazy.” Steve responded as he continued on the journey to the bathroom.

Once there, Steve set Eddie down on the floor and handed him his toothbrush. They brush their teeth together, smiling when they catch each other's eye in the mirror.

“Will you kiss me for real now?” Eddie asks after they’ve finished.

“Are you gonna walk to the kitchen by yourself or will I have to carry you?” Steve retorts.

“Your kiss will give me the power to make it.”

Steve snorts a laugh and leans in, his palm resting against Eddie’s jaw to pull him the last inch or so. The kiss is nothing like their back and forth. Steve consumes him, and Eddie lets him.

He doesn’t know how long they stand there, but he thinks it must be longer than they should.

Wayne clears his throat from the doorway. “Didn’t realize this was a part of brushin’ teeth these days.”

Eddie leaps away from Steve, panicked at the thought of Wayne knowing suddenly. He’s been out to Wayne for so long, he forgets that others probably aren’t comfortable being so open. Steve especially, who’s mentioned before that he wasn’t sure if he wanted to come out to everyone until he was sure they’d be okay with it.

“Relax, Ed. I clocked Steve months ago.” Wayne pushes past them to grab his toothbrush and toothpaste. “Move your relations outta here.”

“Relations?” Eddie gags. “Way to ruin the moment.”

“Sorry to ruin your delicate sensibilities. Get out.”

Steve pushes Eddie out of the small bathroom before he can respond. Eddie decides to focus on Steve’s hands on him instead of arguing further.

“Should we make breakfast?” Steve asks as they walk back to the bedroom to get dressed.

“I shouldn’t ever touch an oven, but I’ll watch you lovingly while you make breakfast, darling,” Eddie bats his eyelashes at Steve, who throws his shirt at him. “That’s not very nice. Did I not, and I quote, suck the soul-“

Steve’s hand covers his mouth while he sputters to cover Eddie’s voice from traveling out of the room.

“Jesus, the mouth on you.”

“That’s what you said last night.” Eddie’s words are muffled under Steve’s hand, but they both laugh. “I can make toast.”

“I’ll make the rest.”

Eddie spends the morning touching Steve as much as possible.

He spends the afternoon sneaking kisses and holding him in the hammock set up on the porch thanks to Wayne’s creativity.

He spends the evening watching Wayne and Steve fish while he drinks a beer and hands them whatever they need.

This is a peace that may only last until they leave tomorrow, but something tells him that this is only the beginning of a future Eddie never could’ve pictured for himself.

🎣🎣🎣🎣🎣🎣

five years later

Wayne slams the truck door a bit harder than he means to. The rain just started coming down harder and he wanted to get his bag in the cabin before it got worse.

When he enters the front door, the scent of freshly baked cookies wafts through the air and he smiles.

“Made it, boys!” He yells, though he’s pretty sure speaking at a normal volume would’ve been enough. The cabin hasn’t changed much, but Steve insisted on opening up the front portion so it felt more welcoming.

“Wayne!” Steve exclaims as he pops up from behind the counter of the kitchen. “You just missed Eddie. He went out to the trail.”

Wayne gives Steve a tight hug. At Steve’s frown, he laughs. “Sorry ‘bout the wet clothes. Started raining the last couple miles in and got heavier just as I was leavin’ the truck.”

“Oh no.” Steve groaned.

Just as he spoke, the back door slammed open and Eddie dropped his camera bag on the floor.

Wayne and Steve both took in the sight of him, drenched from head to toe, dripping onto the tile floor, and laughed.

“I hate the outdoors.”

“You’re a nature photographer. You hate the rain.” Steve walks over to him, still laughing under his breath. He picks up the bag before leaning in to kiss his cheek.

Wayne watches the exchange, fighting tears back at the reason he was invited to their cabin this weekend.

Eddie was proposing to Steve and wanted Wayne to be there to capture it with his camera. He didn’t care that Wayne was an old man who could barely operate a camera, he just wanted someone to do it.

He knew Eddie was also a little nervous and having Wayne there would help keep him calm.

Why he was nervous, Wayne didn’t know.

They couldn’t legally get married, but they might as well be anyway.

“Wayne!” Eddie bounces over to him and throws his arms around him, forgetting for a moment that he’s soaked. “You’re here!”

“I’m here. I’d like to be less wet, though.”

Eddie backs up and Wayne pats his shoulder.

“Both of you should go get changed. Dinner’s ready in ten minutes.” Steve interrupts on his way to put Eddie’s camera bag in their room.

“Yes, dear,” Eddie replies. Steve turns and glares for a moment before continuing on his way. Once he’s out of sight, Eddie sighs. “God, I love that man.”

“That’s why I’m here, ain’t it?” Wayne playfully shoves at Eddie’s arm. “We better listen to him. I’m starvin’ and I think he’d make us fend for ourselves if we show up at the table dripping wet.”

As Wayne changes, he can hear Steve laughing in their room, Eddie talking about something he saw outside in the usual dramatic way he spoke. He thinks back to the first time he brought his boys here together, how hushed they tried to be, how hesitant.

He looked over at a photo Eddie framed for this room so Wayne had something when he came to stay.

Paul was smiling at the camera, arm wrapped around Eddie’s shoulders, Wayne looking at both of them with a smile. He remembers laughing right after the picture was taken, and giving in and buying them both cotton candy. They insisted it wouldn’t make them sick, then proceeded to both rush to the nearest garbage can after they got off the Gravitron at the fair.

“Wayne! Steve’s bullying me!” Eddie yells.

“You probably deserve it!” He yells back.

“Unbelievable!” Eddie screams.

“Ha!” Steve yells.

Wayne shakes his head as he makes his way out to the chaos he chose to be a part of this weekend.

[tkwrites]

I'll Be Proud For You - Quinn Hughes x ofc

Photo from Pinterest via Bauer Hockey

Title: I’ll Be Proud For You - Quinn Hughes x ofc

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts (OFC) 

Summary: When an opportunity for Quinn to meet her uncle arrives, Sarah jumps at the chance, and they attend a St. Patrick's Day party at her uncle's house on Salt Spring Island. On the ferry ride back home, Sarah finally explains why she had to be close to family after her mothers death, necessitating her move to Vancouver. 

Warnings: Mentions of depression, grief, and meeting new family. Talks of suicidal thoughts and suicidal ideation. No attempts or methods are described or discussed. 

Word Count: 5,600

Comments: I’ve been working on this fic for a long time. In many ways, it's extremely self-indulgent. I loved writing the banter between Sarah and her uncle Travis, and it was very healing for me to write about Sarah’s experiences after her mothers death. 

Sarah’s experiences are very similar to the experiences I had after losing my father. My dad died three years ago in September, and I have not experienced any kind of suicidal ideation for over a year and a half. While I was in the thick of it, it felt like I was always going to be stuck in that darkness. The other side of that chasm is so beautiful and so worth the work it took to get here. 

I was very lucky that I already had a therapist who could refer me to a specialist and friends and family who cared very deeply about me and my mental well-being. Seeing a psychiatrist to get on medication was one of the best decisions I ever made.

If you are having or have thoughts like these in the future, please, please talk to a friend and a professional to get help. The world is such a better place with you in it. xx

I’ll Be Proud For You 

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

Sarah grabbed Quinn's wrist as he walked toward the kitchen. “Do you have plans for St. Patrick's Day?” 

“I think Garly's having a party. Why?” 

“My uncle Travis always hosts a dinner party since we’re Irish, and I wondered if you wanted to come with me.” 

“Sure.” 

A smile took over her whole face, and he was instantly glad he agreed. 

Internally, though, his heart was racing. Her uncle was the closest family she had nearby. When she first moved to the city, she'd lived with him for a year. She still went to his house at least two Sundays a month. Quinn knew they were close.

At least he had a while to mentally prepare. 

“It’s a bit of a drive - they live on Saltspring, so we have to take the ferry.”

“Just means I get to spend more time with you,” he said with a shrug. “Plus, I like it over there.”

Her smile got bigger, and he swore his knees got a little weak. God, what wouldn’t he do for that smile?

“Is there anything I should do to prepare?” he asked, sitting next to her.

“Just wear something green. And don't wear anything that says 'Kiss me, I'm Irish' unless you actually want to be kissed.”

“Wouldn't mind being kissed by you,” he said with a wink. 

Laughing, she leaned over and obliged. 

He instantly wished they weren't at the dining room table so he could lay her out and kiss her like he meant it. 

A few minutes later, the nagging feeling of neglecting her studying won out, and Sarah pulled away. “I'm sorry,” she said, pulling her bottom lip into her mouth, “I really need to finish this. Give me thirty minutes?” 

“Then you're mine for the night?” 

She nodded. 

“Okay.” He kissed her forehead and wandered to the kitchen to make dinner. 

As she left school for the aquarium the next day, Sarah called her uncle Travis.

“Hey, Sar, how are you doing?” 

“Good. How are you, Trav?” 

“Great. Samson started crawling on Tuesday.”

“What? No.”

“Yep.” 

“I refuse to believe he’s crawling already.” 

“I know. It’s the worst. What’s up?” 

“I just wanted to let you know I'm bringing someone with me on Sunday.”

“One of your roommates?”

“No, someone I'm seeing.”

He actually seemed to choke on whatever he was drinking and coughed a few times before asking, “I'm sorry, what?”

“We've been going out for a while, and I want him to meet everyone.”

“How long is a while?” 

“Two and a half months.” 

“And you were going to tell us when?”

“I was waiting to see how serious it would be.”

“And it's serious?”

“I think it’s headed that way. I want to see what you think of him.” 

“What's his name?”

“Quinn.” 

“How did you meet?”

“At the aquarium,” she said,  “he asked me out to lunch, and we've been dating ever since.” 

“He lives in the city?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Is there anything I should know about him?” 

“Just that I really like him. Please promise you won't embarrass me.”

“No can do. That's what uncles are for, but I can promise I won't pull out your baby pictures.”

“You don't even have my baby pictures.”

“Precisely. Otherwise, I probably would.”

Rolling her eyes, she asked what she could bring to dinner. After deciding she would bring the soda bread and butter, they hung up, and she sent the plan to Quinn.  

Great. When should I pick you up?

I'm driving, so I'll come get you. 

You have a car? 

Technically, it's my uncles, but I haven't driven in forever, so I’m calling transportation on this one.

He laughed. Tocc canceled practice tomorrow so we can leave whenever. 

I'll pick you up at 1 then? 

What time is dinner? 

5, but the drive over is 2 and a half hours, and I like to be there a little early to help out. 

“Why does your uncle keep a car here?” Quinn asked as he buckled his seatbelt.

“I have parking included with my apartment, so it just made sense. I drop it off at the Ferry terminal once or twice a month for Trev when he has to come to the mainland for work.” 

“I didn’t know that. Let me know next time and I’ll give you a ride home.” 

She shot a grateful smile at him before looking back to the road.

It was a strange thing for Quinn to be a passenger. He was usually the one driving, and rarely got the chance to watch her for such a long period of time uninterrupted.

He was taken with her. With the constellation of freckles on her cheeks and the button of her nose, and the round swell of her bottom lip. He wondered if anyone would notice if they just made out on the ferry ride over. She didn’t have tinted windows. Probably not the best idea.

She was wearing the same green dress she’d worn when Brady came to town. It still looked beautiful and soft, and he still couldn’t stop the fantasies of stripping it off her from clouding his mind. 

“How was your morning?”

“Fine.” he scrubbed his hands over his face, “It’s nice to have a day off.” 

“I bet,” she said, reaching over to entwine her fingers with his. 

They held hands until they hit traffic and she had to get back to the gear shift.

He’d never driven a manual transmission, and he was impressed by her seamless shifting, despite the fact that she was a bit of a terrifying driver. He found himself reaching for the door handle more than once as she weaved in and out of traffic and went a little too fast for his liking.

“How was your day?” he asked to distract himself.

“Good. I did some reading and finished up some assignments I’d put off from earlier in the week.” 

“I didn’t know you were capable of putting things off,” he teased. 

She snorted and threw him a sarcastic look. 

“You’re so organized, I didn’t think you could.”

Quinn had seen her planner once. It was the size of a college notebook with a column for every day of the week. Each of her classes was assigned a different color, and every day was an organized riot: hours blocked for class, work, assignments, tests, and readings to be completed. He didn’t know how she got it all done. He was exhausted just reading it. Then, he’d smiled when he realized he was there. She had all his games and their plans and dates written in sparkly blue ink. 

“I still miss things. Sunday is my catchup day,” she explained. “Usually, I sleep in and do my homework on the ferry over and back, but I wanted to have it done early so I could spend the time with you.”

“It would have been okay,” he said. 

The smile she gave him made his heart patter against his lungs. That, along with a stop so sudden, the seatbelt engaged to snap him back, made it a little hard to breathe. 

“Thank you, but I would rather spend this time with you.” 

His heart warmed at the gesture, and her willingness to give up her one morning to sleep in to spend time with him.

Once on the ferry, they stayed in the car and talked instead of going up on deck. He told her about practice and trying to push aside his nerves about making the playoffs, “Everyone keeps talking about it like it’s a guarantee.” 

“Well, you are second in the league.”

“Yeah, but so much could change. I don’t want to get my hopes up, and the media asks about it practically every day. I’m getting so tired of telling them, ‘that’s what we’re aiming for, and we have a group that can get there.’” He threw his voice into a self-depricating, exaggerated version of itself. 

Despite her attempt to stifle it down, a giggle spilled out of her mouth. “I think they’re probably asking because it’s going to happen.” 

“We don’t know that. Demmer’s out, and we haven’t been doing great…” he trailed off. 

“You’re still first in the Pacific by almost 10 points, Quinn. Can’t you celebrate that for a minute?” 

He sighed, “it’s just… so much can change in a month, and I don’t want to be the guy who talks about how good it will be to play in the playoffs only to have his team not make it. I’d be a laughing stock on the internet for the rest of time and a lesson to all other captains to not jinx it.”

“I’d never considered it that way.” 

He made a noise of ascent in his throat. 

“You can celebrate it with me, though, right?” she asked, lacing their fingers together.

Quinn wanted to agree, he really did, but the superstitious part of his mind went to war against it. The result was a kind of half-hearted grimace.

Laughter burst from her. “Fine, fine. You don’t have to talk about it. I’ll just be proud for you,” she said, bringing his hand to her mouth so she could kiss his knuckles. 

His stomach did a jerking little jig, and a real smile spread over his face. 

Eventually, their conversation turned to her uncle. 

“Trav is a sound engineer, and he toured with Brooks & Dunn for a long time. He moved to Vancouver because he said it’s the most beautiful city he’s been to.” 

“I would agree with that,” Quinn said. 

“Now he stays at home with their kids. Trevor is a copyright lawyer.”

“Oh, your uncle’s gay,” he said with a spark of understanding. 

“Is that a problem?” Sarah asked, raising her brows. 

“No, of course not. I was just confused. You mentioned Trav and Trev, and I wasn’t sure if I was hearing his name wrong or what.” 

When they pulled off the ferry, Sarah turned onto a small two lane road, running away from town. It didn’t look like anything was out here except forest and pebble beaches. 

Sarah had an incredible inherent sense of direction - the kind he had to rely on his phone GPS for - so he knew they weren’t lost, but he couldn’t see anything that looked remotely like civilization.

When they turned onto a small driveway tucked right into the woods, drove up a hill, and pulled in front of a home that looked more like a cabin than a house, Quinn wasn’t too shocked. 

“What a view,” he said as they got out of the car. 

Despite the drizzly weather, the horizon was still stunning. The gray blue water of the Salish Sea seemed to melt into the rolling, gray clouds, making them indistinguishable except where pine covered islands rose out of the water, vibrantly green against all the neutral colors. The city skyline cut a dark, jagged edge across the water. If the commute wasn’t so long, he would live out here, too.

“I know, right?” she said, picking up a tote bag and taking his hand to lead him up to the front door.

“Hey Trav,” she said, embracing him as soon as the door was opened. “Trav, this is Quinn. Quinn, this is my uncle Travis,” she introduced when they broke apart

Other than the fact that he had her same bright blue eyes, her uncle didn’t look anything like he’d expected. Quinn had braced himself to meet a middle-aged man who was around his dads age. Instead, Travis looked no more than ten years older than Sarah. The oldest looking thing about him was his gray hair, which was casually swept back in that effortless way Quinn’s hair could never quite manage. He wore jeans and a green band t-shirt without socks or shoes. His toenails and fingernails were painted various shades of green. 

 “It's nice to meet you, sir,” Quinn said as they shook hands. If he wasn’t so used to seeing it, he would have missed the way Travis’s eyes widened slightly in recognition.

“Just call me Travis,” he said with a snort, trying to cover his shock. “No one has ever called me, sir in my life. Come on in.”

Trying to catch her eye as they passed, Travis wondered how, when he’d asked if there was anything he should know about this guy she was bringing, Sarah didn’t think the fact that he was Quinn Hughes was something he ought to know. She didn’t notice, and he dropped it before Quinn did.

“Beara!” a little girl yelled as she ran toward them. “Beara! Beara!”  She had curly pigtails, each tied with a green bow that flopped as she ran. 

“Sawyer!” Sarah caught her before they collided, picking her up and swinging her around. “I missed you,” she said, pulling the little girl against her chest. 

Putting her hands on Sarah’s cheeks, she said, “missed you more.” 

When she noticed Quinn, she turned her face away from him and put her thumb in her mouth, suddenly shy.

“Sawyer, this is my friend, Quinn,” she said, turning so they could make eye contact. 

“Hi, Sawyer,” he said. “I like your ribbons.” 

She smiled around her thumb at him. She had those same bright blue eyes, though they were slightly wider than Travis or Sarah’s. 

“What do you say to that?” her father coached gently.

“Thank you.” she didn’t take her thumb out of her mouth when she said it, so it was a little garbled, but he got the idea.

Sarah set her down, and she ran back to the kitchen, squealing when Travis chased her down the hallway. 

“Beara?” Quinn asked, humor in his eyes as she took his hand, following after them.

“My whole life, my nickname has been Sar Bear. When she was younger, Sawyer had a hard time saying her S’s, so she started calling me Beara instead of Sarah, and it just kind of stuck.” 

He snorted, “oh god, the guys are going to have a heyday with that.” 

“With what?” 

“You know how they call me Huggy Bear sometimes?”

She nodded. 

“Huggy Bear and Sar Bear?” He snorted, “I mean, come on.” 

The house, while rustic on the outside, was homey on the inside. Neutral gray walls and a modern, light kitchen. It seemed the whole back half of the house was made of glass, giving a perfect view into the misty forest. It was beautiful, but Quinn wasn’t sure he’d want to be here at night to see what came out of those woods.

Sarah was laughing as she entered the kitchen, hand in hand with Quinn. The shock of Quinn Hughes being in his house, of Quinn Hughes dating his niece, who had always been more of a little sister to him, still had him reeling. 

Even through that startling revelation, Travis wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen her so relaxed and happy since her parents died. The protective part of him held himself back from reading too much into it. The last thing Sarah needed in her life was more heartache.

“Quinn, this is my uncle Trevor.” 

“It’s nice to meet you. I’d shake your hand, but I’m a little busy,” he said, gesturing to the meat he was fishing out of a marinade. “I hope you like beef stew.” 

“Sounds great.” 

“And this,” Sarah picked a pudgy little boy up from his high chair, “is Samson.” 

Quinn held a hand out to the little boy, who wrapped his tiny fingers around one of Quinn’s as he smiled and babbled. Samson looked more like Trevor. He had dark curly hair, dark eyes, and smooth olive skin. Quinn wondered if each of them had fathered an embryo for a surrogate. 

“Can I get you a beer?” Travis asked. 

“Sure.” 

“We only have Guinness today.” 

“I wouldn’t expect anything else. It’s the Irish way, right?” 

Laughing, he handed the can off to Quinn before turning to Sarah. “Hey, can you help me find the barley?” 

He knew he was being obvious as he pulled her into the pantry, but he hoped this was a little less obvious than pulling her back into the living room would be. At least he had an excuse for her help this way. 

As he shut the door behind them, he heard Quinn ask, “is there anything I can help with?” 

Travis clicked the light on. They were standing nearly chest to chest in the tiny room, baby Samson squished between them. He didn’t seem to mind as he continued to babble, reaching out for the brightly colored packages. 

“You didn’t tell me you were dating Quinn Hughes!” he hissed. 

“You know who he is?”

“Everyone in this entire province knows who Quinn Hughes is, Sarah.” 

“I didn’t when we met.” 

“That doesn’t surprise me.” 

“Why not?” If she didn’t have a baby in her arms, she would have folded them over her chest. 

“You’re too busy learning stuff to pay attention to things like that. He was all over the news for three weeks when they put him in as Captain this fall. Plus, you only care about football.” 

“I do not. Well, not anymore, at least,” she said, catching Samson’s hand before he could pull a box of pasta off the shelf. “Anyway, why does it matter that he’s Quinn Hughes?” 

“He’s - I mean,” Travis blew a harsh breath out of his nose. “When you said you met at the aquarium, I thought he was some guy who works there, not the captain of the fucking Vancouver Canucks!”

“He's just a guy, Trav. He just happens to play hockey for a living.” 

His mouth opened and closed as he seemed to realize he couldn't argue against that point. “He’s a pro athlete, Sarah.” 

“So?”

“So, they’re gone all the time, and the money fucks with their heads and pretty soon they’re all cheating on their partners.”

One of her eyebrows arched up, “do you only watch reality TV, or do you sometimes deviate to Lifetime?” 

Despite himself, he laughed. “I just mean,” he paused, glancing down at his green fingernails. Sawyer had insisted on painting them and pulled out every shade of green polish in the house, determined to use them all. “I don’t want you to get hurt. He treats you well?” 

“Yes. Very well. I wouldn’t keep dating him or bring him to meet you if he didn’t. He's actually the best guy I've ever dated,” she added. 

Travis's eyebrows shot into his gray hairline. 

“Just spend some time with him. You'll see. He’s really thoughtful and nice.” 

“Okay, but I’m having a talk with him by the end of the night.” 

“No.”

“Listen, I just need to make sure he’s good enough for you.” 

“Don’t you think that’s something I can decide for myself?” 

“I’m just going to have a chat with him, man to man. You’re the one that wanted to know what I think of him,” he said. “It's happening whether you like it or not. I'm just letting you know.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Fine, but don’t embarrass me. And none of that asking for permission bullshit. I'm not a possession.”

“Dont insult me,” Travis chided, smiling, loving seeing pieces of his oldest sister in Sarah. He was glad Becky had instilled those same, strong feminist values in her children. “Of course he doesn't need permission. I just care about you.”

“Thanks, Trav,” she said, touched. 

He pulled her into a hug, smooshing Samson between them more. He let out a tiny grunt.

“Here, take your baby,” she said, handing him off and grabbing a box of cookies as an alibi as she left. 

If Quinn thought anything was suspicious, he didn't let on, continuing to chop the lettuce Trevor had set him to preparing. 

“Teddy Graham?” Sarah asked, offering the box as she stood next to him at the long island.

“Sure.”

“Hey Sar, we were thinking about coming into the city for your birthday. I have to be in that day for a few meetings, so Trav was going to bring the kids on the ferry. Do you think that would work? We thought we could take you to dinner.” Trevor said, looking up from braising the beef. 

“Yeah, I would like that,” she said with a big smile.

As he walked back into the kitchen, Travis caught Quinn’s wide-eyed expression. 

“When’s your birthday?” he asked, tipping the lettuce into a bowl.

“On April third.” 

He gulped. It was a gesture Travis immediately recognized as a man grappling for a purchase with new information.

 Quinn pulled out his phone and quietly breathed, “we’re in Arizona that day.”

“I know,” Sarah said with a smile that tried but didn’t totally succeed in covering her disappointment. 

Something about it made Travis’ hackles rise. Quinn wasn't actively hurting her, but his lifestyle was.

Quinn saved her birthday in her contact card and put his phone back in his pocket. “I guess we’ll celebrate when I get back.” 

“That would be nice,” she said with a smile that was genuine this time.

Travis got her a can of Guiness, and she wrinkled her nose. “Can I have whiskey?”

“You hate whiskey.” 

“I’d rather it than this tar,” she said, pushing the can back to him. “At least whiskey can be mixed into something palatable.”

“Here here,” Trevor said, laughing. 

Travis mimed pulling a knife out of his chest. “You’ve insulted our ancestors, Sarah.” 

“Listen, the Irish invented a lot of really great things: boycotts, modern chemistry, the stethoscope, the submarine,” she said, counting them off on her fingers.

Quinn gave her a surprised look. 

“I did a presentation on Irish inventions in high school,” she explained, flipping her hands, “the point is, is that their alcohol is not one of them.” 

Travis laughed, taking the can for himself. “You want a ginger highball then?” 

She beamed, “I think you know the answer to that.”

“What is that?” Quinn asked. 

“It’s whiskey and ginger ale. It’s delicious.” 

 

Before other guests arrived, Travis asked Quinn if he'd like to see the vintage shelby Mustang he was restoring.

Quinn agreed and gulped when Trevor asked if Sarah could help him find Sawyer. This was one of those talks. He shoved his hands in his pockets and followed her uncle out to the garage. 

“Listen,” Travis said after they admired the beautiful white car, “Sarah isn't my daughter, but she means a hell of a lot to me, and I want to make sure she’s not going to get hurt. She’s gone through enough heartache already.” 

Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, Quinn licked his lips before responding, “the last thing I want is to cause her more pain. I know she’s been through too much. I don’t know that I can guarantee she’ll never get hurt, but I can say that I would never hurt her intentionally.” 

“Do you think your job will get in the way?” 

“The travel definitely takes a toll. But I really like Sarah, and I think we have a lot of potential.” Times like these, he was glad for all of his media training. Not that this was anything like a press conference, but they did get him used to thinking fast and answering hard questions.

“She’s not really a model NHL girlfriend.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Quinn demanded, barely keeping a glare off of his features. 

“Just that most of your lot date models that don’t have normal jobs and aren’t in school,” Travis said, fighting to keep a smile off of his face. That defensiveness answered a lot of his questions. 

“Yeah, I suppose that’s true,” he agreed, biting down the urge to correct him. Most of his teammates were married to their high school or college sweethearts. “I like that Sarah has her own stuff and that she’s so independent. Before I met her, I dated a girl like you described, and I was always a little worried about what she was doing while I was on the road. I don't ever get that with Sarah.” 

“What do you do on the road?”

“Mostly, I sleep or hang out with the guys. We don't have as much free time as people think.” 

Travis was still looking at him appraisingly over the hood of the car. Had he not been exposed to Sarah’s blue, blue eyes, he would have found her uncles stare incredibly intimidating. 

“Look, Sir - Travis,” he corrected quickly, “I really -” he stopped himself, not wanting to say that to her uncle first. “I really like Sarah, and we really get along. I know it’s not an ideal thing for me to be on the road during the season, but it seems to be working well so far. I want to be with her, and if she’ll let me, I’d like to be in her life for a long time. I just want to make her happy.” 

Travis nodded. “What’s your favorite thing about her?” It was a question his mother-in-law asked him when he met her. It wasn’t until this moment that he realized what a telling question it was. 

“She treats me like a normal person,” Quinn admitted. Even though he knew it made him sound conceited, it was his favorite thing about her. She’d never treated him like anything else than a normal guy. “And she’s interesting and easy to talk to and really respectful to people around her.” 

“Okay,” Travis said, nodding, glad to see Quinn saw the same things he did. “Okay.” His face split into the natural smile he’d given Sarah when he first opened the door. “I can see why she likes you.” 

Despite his attempt to stay cool and collected, Quinn felt a blush splash onto his cheeks as relief relaxed his shoulders.

“I'm not going to say I'll kill you if you hurt her, but just know she has me and Trevor in her corner.” 

Quinn smiled, “I get it. I would want to hurt anyone who hurt her, too.” 

The dinner party was small - no more than 10 people, and only one of them, their friend’s teenage son, Jace, gawked when he walked in to see Quinn in the kitchen. Quinn took it in stride and talked shop with Jace for a while before dinner was served and he took his seat next to Sarah, who had been watching him with a secret, proud kind of smile on her lips.

Halfway through the night, Travis looked over at them to find Quinn watching her as she talked with someone, with this quiet, infatuated look on his face. A few more of his fears were put to rest.

As he stood at the kitchen sink with his niece, drying the pots and pans she was washing by hand, he leaned closer to her, “I can see what you see in him,” he said, conspiratorially. 

“See,” she said, nudging her shoulder into his as she handed him a knife, “I told you.” 

“How did you manage going to school from here for a year?” Quinn asked as they pulled onto the ferry for the ride home. 

“When I lived with them, they lived in the city. They needed to move into a bigger house when Samson was born. By that time, Trevor was working from home most of the time, and I was okay to live with roommates. So, I moved into the apartment I'm in now, and they moved onto the island.”

He waited until the car was parked before asking, “what do you mean you were okay to live with roommates?” 

She pulled in a heavy breath. It was bound to come out eventually. May as well tell him while they had a solid hour and a half boat ride to talk about it. 

“After my mom died, I really struggled.” 

“Wouldn’t anyone?” Quinn asked. 

Sarah pushed the seat back to give her enough room to turn and face him. Her right knee pressed up against the center console. She needed to be looking at him when she said this.

“I mean… I really,” she paused, trying to find the right words. “I remember I flew back to Hawaii a week after the funeral, thinking it was going to be so nice to get back into my routine, but I had this massive gulf in front of me and a literal ocean between me and my family. My roommates were kind of party animals, and they had no idea how to support me, and I had broken up with Kaleo, my boyfriend, before I left because he didn't want anything to do with her funeral or my grief. It felt like no matter where I was, I was just so…alone.” 

It felt like someone was reaching down Quinn's throat and wringing his heart. 

“I called my sister one day - I think I woke her up, which was really shitty because she had a six month old who was teething.” She laughed a little, but there was too much sadness in it for it to be convincing.

“Anyway, I called her crying because I…I started having these really intense thoughts about killing myself.” 

A steep breath stuck in his lungs. He wasn’t totally sure what he thought she would say, but he hadn’t expected that.

“She flew out to be with me, and I moved home two days later. Just packed everything up and left. I didn’t even tell my boss - I was still on FMLA for the funeral, and she had to call me when I didn't show up to work the next Monday.” 

 “Did you ever…” he trailed off, not wanting to say it out loud.

“Attempt?”

He nodded, and Sarah shook her head, “no, but the thought of it was really terrifying. Like, I saw for the first time how someone could get into that headspace where they might take their own life. I just remember ruminating on those thoughts and thinking, ‘I don’t wanna die.’” She pressed the heel of her hand under her eye to catch some of the tears that slipped.

“How did you get out of it?” Perhaps she was just really good at hiding it, but she didn’t seem that depressed in all the time he’d known her. 

“I stayed with my sister for the next nine months. I got on some meds and started seeing a therapist and a psychiatrist, and we talked through what was bringing those thoughts up.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’d already gone through the grief process with my dad, so I knew how awful it was. I never expected to have to go through another big death while I was still single. I thought by the time my mom died, I would have a consistent partner in my life - maybe even a family - and I just kept thinking, ‘I don’t want to do this again.’” 

Quinn wanted to go back in time and make it better. Somehow make sure they met before she was in the city so he could be there for her when it all happened. 

“Anyway, my psychiatrist told me our brains are basically just big problem solvers. You give it a problem, it wants to fix it. So when I kept telling myself, ‘I don’t want to do this again,’ my brain was just coming up with the swiftest solution for me to not have to do it again. When I changed the way I was thinking about it and started giving myself some more grace, those thoughts lessened a lot.” 

God, she was even stronger than he thought. 

“Even with all that stuff, I still really wanted to go to grad school, and my therapist and my psychiatrist agreed that it was best for me to have a goal to work toward, even if it meant moving away from home. I was really scared that if I moved out totally on my own, those feelings would come up again, and no one would be around for me to talk to about them, and I might hurt myself. But I couldn't study the ocean in Nevada. My brother actually suggested UBC and living with Travis. I called him to see what he thought. I hadn't even applied, but I didn't want to if I didn't have a plan for when I got in. I pitched that I could be a nanny of sorts when I wasn't in school. They told me they’d love to have me stay with them. I applied and by some miracle was accepted on the first try, and the rest is history,” she said, shrugging.

“Do you…” he paused, not totally sure how best to ask this. “Do you still think about it?” 

She shook her head, “not much anymore. Every once in a while, it comes back when a big grief marker comes up, or I get really, really stressed or anxious, but the thoughts are always  really fleeting.”

Even though it meant the console was pressing into his stomach, and she was pitched back slightly, Quinn leaned over to gather her against him. “I can’t believe how strong you are.” 

“It’s not like I had any other choice.” 

“Clearly you did,” he said, reluctantly settling back into his seat. 

“I didn’t,” she said, voice quiet but firm. “There was no way I was going to put my family through another death, and like I said, I didn’t want to die. I wanted to not be in pain anymore, and those are very different things.” 

“I just think you should be proud of yourself, that’s all.” 

“I mean, I am proud that I got out of it, and proud that I know how to ask for what I need now, but being strong in the face of death is just something you have to do. There’s no way out but through.”

“Fine,” he said, repeating her action from earlier and bringing her knuckles to his lips, “I’ll be proud for you.” 

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

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[radiocrypt-id]

God I relate to Evan Kelmp on such a deep level. I, too, say and do vastly unsettling things due to a life lived unsafely. I, too, upon getting my hands on some decent money for the first time, bought a good pair of boots and religiously cared for them. I carried a knife or a chain wherever I went, just in case. I had my life in a bag on my back, just in case. I feel such a deep attachment to my home, but am always prepared to lose it. I am always thinking of the worst possible way things could go, so I'm prepared, but am always delighted when things go well instead. I adore the people I love, I hold on with claws, and even when they hurt me, I let it go over and over and over, because I love them; and I would die for them, if they asked. I, too, would lose myself in the mindless violence of stomping out a creature formed punching bag, where it is morally fine to do so, and I could do so freely. I, too, hold so much rage in my soul at the pure injustice of the world, of my life, that I am burning from the inside out; and I too, choose to be kind and patient first, because god I wish someone would have done that for me.

I never expected another season of Misfits and Magic, but fuck am I glad it's here. My weird little bird facts guy, who survived by clawing his way through hell, I love you Evan Kelmp, and your uncomfortable last name.