#how do you wake up missing a son you've never had

[burningembers91]

Fatherly Disdain - Nam-Gyu x Fem!Reader

Follow up piece to:

Outside Looking In In the Bleak Midwinter Without You Looking Up

Synopsis: Desperate to reconnect with his family, Nam-Gyu agrees to attend dinner with his estranged father, who drops a bombshell on you, threatening everything you've worked so hard for

It was the strong, bold smell of the coffee that awoke you. The rich, dark aroma floated sensually from the cup to your nose, entwining itself around your senses and pulling you from your deep sleep. Nam-Gyu had placed the large cup on your bedside table, complete with his usual sticky note he left each morning, reminding you how much he loved you.

He left so early for work these days, up before the sun rose to go for a run through the neighbourhood, before heading to the office. He was a completely different man these days, so far removed from the one you’d met outside of your old club. These days, Nam-Gyu valued exercise and early mornings, he cooked for you, cleaned the apartment, and did all the grocery shopping. With him around, you never had to lift a finger. You felt guilty sometimes, feeling that you weren’t doing enough around the house, but Nam-Gyu assured you that he liked taking care of you.

He’d always wanted someone like you, someone that he was excited to wake up next to, someone he could spend every day with. He no longer desired the fickle popularity that came with club promoting, finding peace in the cozy existence he shared with you. He relished slow, lazy mornings on your days off, trips to the supermarket and local coffee shop. He would take a night with you on the sofa, with a movie and takeout over a night out drinking with people who couldn’t even be bothered to learn his name. Nam-Gyu would cringe when he thought about the person he used to be, so desperate for the validation of strangers. Now all he needed was you, his friends, and his family.

His job as a Junior Finance Assistant was going well, the people in his small office feeling more like family than colleagues. For the first time, he had a real group of friends, ones that he ate lunch with, went out for drinks and dinner with; he knew these people had his back. His relationships with his brothers had improved, and you were regular visitors to their homes for dinner a few times a month. Nam-Gyu had even reconnected with his mother, filling her in on the past few months and telling her all about the woman who had changed her son so drastically. Everyone was so proud of Nam-Gyu, everyone except his father.

No matter how many times his family sang his praises, Nam-Gyu’s dad wasn’t interested in seeing for himself how much his son had changed. As far he was concerned, Nam-Gyu had been given enough chances to change, and he hadn’t bothered to do so until it was too late.

“He’ll come around,” you told him one day, but you didn’t know his father. Growing up, his home had been a dictatorship, and if you didn’t follow the rules, you were cast out. As much as it hurt Nam-Gyu that he no longer had a relationship with his dad, he chose to focus on the relationships he did have.

He met his mum for coffee once a week during his lunch break, catching her up on his life. “I’d like for you to come for dinner,” she said to him to one day, “It’s been so long since you’ve been home.” “Mum,” Nam-Gyu sighed, tired of having the same conversation again and again. “You know dad doesn’t want me there. He said so himself.” “But I want you there,” she smiled, “you’re my son, and I never should have let you leave.” Nam-Gyu understood his mother’s regret over making him leave, but if he hadn’t left, he probably wouldn’t be with you. He would probably still be standing out in the cold, loving you from afar. “Please,” his mum begged, “this Thursday, come for dinner. You don’t have to stay long, but I miss you.”

You could tell he was nervous about seeing his father again, could see how jittery he was the night before. He’d left extra early this morning, choosing a longer running route to try and dispel some of the anxiety that coursed through his veins. After you finished your coffee, you made sure to tidy the apartment, giving Nam-Gyu one less thing to worry about when he got home.

“It’s going to be ok,” you soothed as you watched him retie his tie for the third time. “It’s just dinner.” You took the silky fabric from his shaking hands, assembling a basic knot for him. You’d never seen Nam-Gyu so dressed up before, not even for work. “Does this shirt look ok with these pants?” He asked, angrily stripping them off. Everything needed to be perfect, and he looked anything but. “Nam-Gyu,” you soothed, “they look really good. Put the pants back on, take a breath and let’s get going, or we’ll miss our bus.”

You waited patiently for him to redress, before pulling him in for one last kiss. You could feel him shaking against you, could see the sweat beading on his brow. “If you feel uncomfortable, we’ll leave,” you said, your stomach twisting into uncomfortable knots as you saw how anxious he was. Nam-Gyu simply nodded, taking a deep intake of breath as he slicked back his hair. He so badly wanted tonight to go well, but he knew his father, and he knew that this dinner would not be an easy one.

You arrived at Nam-Gyu’s parents house at 7pm on the dot. His father detested lateness, something that his son had frequently been during his time living under his roof. He clutched the bouquet of flowers that you’d picked out for his mother, his palms sweaty against the cellophane wrapping. You gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before the front door swung open.

Nam-Gyu’s father stood before you, his face stony. “On time for once I see,” he sneered, “first time for everything I suppose.” He stepped aside to let you in, eyeing his son with disdain. His shirt was ill-fitting, his tie too much for a casual dinner and his pants were entirely unsuitable. As for you, his father had no words. “It’s nice to meet you,” you smiled, bowing low, ensuring you treated the man with the utmost respect. You could see why Nam-Gyu had been so nervous about coming tonight; his dad had put the fear of God into you.

You didn’t get a response to your greeting, his father leaving the two of you standing in the entryway. You both looked at each other, Nam-Gyu shrugging sadly. As you made your way through, the most incredible smells hit you. There was enough food to feed an entire army, and Nam-Gyu’s mother had evidently been cooking for most of the day. she greeted you with love and warmth, ushering you to the table. You tried hard to make conversation, but Nam-Gyu father wasn’t interested. He answered every question with silence, instead choosing to stare directly at the wall behind you. You couldn’t believe this was how Nam-Gyu spent his childhood, living in the shadow of such a cruel man.

What his father lacked in social graces, his mum more than made up for. She was so excited to hear about your life and your jobs, what you did for fun and who your friends were. You almost forgot his father was sat opposite you as you laughed and joked with Nam-Gyu and his mum. You could see how much love she had for her son, and how much love he had for her in return.

It wasn’t until his father loudly cleared his throat, that you remembered he was still there. Reaching across the table, he handed Nam-Gyu an envelope. “Je-Mun,” his mum whispered, “don’t do this.” You noticed she didn’t make eye contact when she spoke to her husband, and you saw the way the smile quickly faded from your boyfriend’s face.

“What is this?” he asked, looking back and forth between his parents. “My invoice,” his father simply said. Opening the envelope, Nam-Gyu found an itemised invoice for overdue rent, bills, money loaned and food eaten from 2012 – 2024. “What is this?” he asked again, his face pale.

“It’s what you owe me,” his father stated, “that is what your upkeep cost for the twelve years you were leeching off me. Now that you have a job, you can finally pay me back.” The table was stunned into silence, no one quite knowing what to say. The invoice was meticulously detailed, down to the brand of soap Nam-Gyu had used. Had his father really been keeping this kind of record? “This isn’t fair,” you snapped, “you can’t do that.” “I think you’ll find I can do what I like,” Je-Mun grunted back, barely acknowledging you as he spoke. “I will be happy to accept monthly instalments, but I do expect the amount to be paid back in full.” You noticed with sickening disgust that your dinner tonight had also been added to the bill.

Nam-Gyu couldn’t take this, the utter humiliation was beyond suffocating. You made your excuses and left shortly after; his father’s invoice clutched tightly in his hand. you didn’t speak on the way home, his face ghostly white as he tried to figure out how he would pay back such an extortionate sum. He was sure his father had never charged his brothers for their medical degree, so why was he so different?

“You can’t seriously be thinking about paying that back,” you cried when you finally made it back home. “That’s insanity! Who does that kind of thing?” “I’m going to have to,” he whispered, slumping down on the sofa. Just this morning, he’d been so happy and now his world was once again crumbling away. His father would not accept non-payment, but Nam-Gyu had no idea how he’d pay him back. “Can you talk to your brothers?” you asked, “can they make him see sense?” “I really don’t know,” he muttered, “I just… I need some air.”

Nam-Gyu threw on his running gear, heading out of the door and into the night. He ran for miles, his mind whirring as he weighed up his options. He’d been putting money aside each month for a bigger place for the both of you, hoping you’d one day be able to move somewhere with enough space to start a family. Now, he wasn’t even sure how he’d afford to pay the bills on your current place. He’d always known his father was a bastard, but he didn’t think he was that cruel. It was a ploy to humiliate him, to make Nam-Gyu feel worthless.

By the time he arrived back at the apartment, Nam-Gyu had made up his mind. He would no longer allow his father to intimidate him, to make him feel small. He wouldn’t allow himself to be bullied by the man who was supposed to love him. If his father was so desperate for his money, he would have to come and take it by force.  

[lenmonberry]

So sick that on the morning of my sterilization consultation I would wake up from a dream where I'm playing peekaboo with my child

[kurooangel]

── DAD HEADCANONS.  ✦ ft. kuroo tetsuro

content: fluff (smut in a few). timeskip haikyuu. masterlist!! atsumu's vers.

ᯓ kuroo and you have a big family. four beautiful children (three boys and a girl), and you didn't even realise of how he convinced you. his sweet touch and, well, his special technique got you into this. you're not complaining tho. ★

ᯓ of course, your children love volleyball. kuroo takes them to matches and watch them on tv while he is sitting on the couch holding the kids. they usually fall asleep, but at least he tries. ★

ᯓ even if you are parents now, his libido is still very high (as always), so he has to wait until all of them are asleep and prays that any have nightmares that night. "you're being so loud, sweetheart. you're going to wake up the children. talking about kids... do you want me to put another one inside you?" ★

ᯓ he always takes the children to the park when you need to rest or some time alone. he cares about you a lot, more than he should sometimes, so kuroo will always be there to entertain them while you have some rest. ★

ᯓ he misses a lot having you bent over the kitchen counter, riding him on the couch or against the fridge. since you have children, the only place where you can do it is on the bed and sometimes even in the shower. so when he sends them to a summer camp, get ready. old habits never die. ★

ᯓ kuroo marks you, he always have done it and you've never complained because, well, you love it. but when your elder son started worrying about the purple mark you had on your neck... he started doing it even more. the way a light blush cover your cheeks and you get so nervous makes him fall for you even more. ★

[kyri45]

✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 29/10✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

@xyuki-iris ha chiesto: I LOVE YOU'RE ART ALSO GOOD FOOD But I have a what if What if Redson found Mk having a panic attack over something serious about him being Trans.

Ouch poor baby Red Son would totally support MK and try to calm him down

@ashmeertheimp ha chiesto: First of all your story is glorious and congrats on getting lmk at the very top. Second does Mk want to work on his relationship with Nuwa. I think Nuwa did truly love Mk but she also loved everyone else on earth equally. Mk has forgiven Mac who actually made an effort to hurt Mk (past mistakes) while Nuwa was opposed but still didn't stop Mk from not fixing the pillar of heaven.

I always felt like after S5 his relationship with Nuwa is similar to the one Steven had with Rose after S5 of SU. So it's- complicated

@audioandart ha chiesto: mayhaps a silly question, but towards the very start of the mk shadow peach stuff when mk first shadows into the wall. He says "why is everything *more* flat". Is this implying he already sees the world as 2d the way we do or am I perhaps missing something? 😅 (I love your work! Have a good day 🫰)

ahah yeah I was!!

@fake-anjel ha chiesto: Your comic makes me stay awake at night thinking of the next cap, making theories and making imaginary scenarios and imaginary gacha reactions to them for some reason. I was wondering... If Wukong and Macaque have a child (hypothetically, and by the biological way) wich one would be the oven for the bun? You have a fan from Brazil<3

Well, I would say Wukong, but here comes the question: a Stone Monkey, born from a stone, would be able to reproduce themself? There are no other like the four celestial primates and MK, so I would assume that they weren't able to- reproduce normally. Also if they would does it mean the womb is a stone as well???

@sollythesalt ha chiesto: Just asking if Wukong is trans do his female organs also count as part of his un-glamored form or does he stay with his male ones when he drops his glamour? Also what does his glamour include in your au just out of curiosity?

No under the glamour and shapeshift he still has female organs

@dandy-doodles ha chiesto: I'm VICIOUSLY consuming your comic rn - It actually came across my feed from a reblog. Never watched the show before. Loved the comic so much I binged the entire series and now I'm sat with the task of reading JTTW. This hyperfixation is your fault I love you for it. @ivoronical ha chiesto: Hi! I don’t know how tumblrs asks work because I’ve never used them before, but just wanted to say that your art is ✨fabulous✨ and you’re shadowpeach bio parents au has convinced me to rewatch the show entirely. It’s also made Macaque one of my favorite characters and because of that I am halfway through making a cosplay of him completely from scratch and I’m very excited to finish it:) Anyways I’ve rambled enough. Have a nice day!!! @starzz-twi ha chiesto: Can I just say how much I adore your art! It inspires so much that I might try drawing lmk again 🫶🫶🫶🫶 @artemismoorea03 ha chiesto: I hope you know that your Bio Parents AU fills every waking moment. I swear I only get on Tumblr anymore to see if you've posted something. I eat up any art you post regardless of what fandom it is and I just have to tell you that your art tastes like a blue raspberry icee (the best kind). I hope you're having a fantastic day ♡

AWWW TYSM TO ALL OF YOU!!!!

@sakuralotus03 ha chiesto: What will family gatherings be like now that MK has 4 parents? Like his birthday or end-of-year celebrations. I want to see more of the dynamics of the 4 parents interacting and talking about their one and only child.🐷🤓☀️🌙

oH CHAOTIC INDEED

Anonimo ha chiesto: How does it feel to be one of those artists that like 70% of the fandom knows about

wait is that a random number or???

Anonimo ha chiesto: Will we maybe see Macaque interact with Bai He or Mei?? (I'm starved of DarkHorse/EnderDragon/NightFlare Duo and Raspberry/Black Cat Duo) But I am interested if you might make them interact! :D Anyways, I love how your art got better by each comic, you can see the improvement from the slight sharpness of the shapes in the first comics and the now softer lines.

mmmmm I will maybe I'll do some small scenes

Anonimo ha chiesto: Past Wukong working out: I'ma get so strong. Ain't no one beating me Present Wukong working out: I'ma be so good at hugging my son and husband.

AWWWWWW WHAT A GOOD BABA!

Anonimo ha chiesto: Hello! I wanted to ask if we'll see just how sensitive Macaque's hearing is in your Au in a future comic maybe? Like... a thunderstorm happens or something when he's around FFM watching Mk and Wukong train or something that affects his hearing badly? But either way, love your art and style! :)

mmmm don't know if I have a scene planned for that...

Anonimo ha chiesto: Does Wukong and Macaque know about the other 2 Celstial Primates, Red-Hoarse Baboon and Lomg-Armed Gibbon, in your Bio Shadowpeach parents au?

I think so? In JTTW he knew so I would assume the same?

Anonimo ha chiesto: Will Macaque use his future vision at any time again in this comic? We now know in this Au he hasn't used it in years. But maybe will he use it again soon? I bet he won't but I still wanted to ask :)

not unless he is forced to

Anonimo ha chiesto: I’ve been listening to a song from a Pokémon movie: Always Safe by Cynthia, and I think of the Shadowpeach bioparents Au everytime

AWW that's beautiful the lyrics omg!!!

@notjustonefandom1 ha chiesto: So, I've been thinking about MK's staff. After he got it do you think he develops a habit of clasping his hands together, especiallywhen stressed or threatened? With the fluidity and energy he moves with, I think it would take a while for him yo find a chance to Summon the staff, especially if he isn't fast at it yet, so he just starts keeping his hands pressed together in preparation.

ooooohhh that's a cool idea!

Anonimo ha chiesto: Where does the Macaque has white fur head canon come from? I'm new to this fandom and I'm still learning things and I see it everywhere

I honestly have no idea but I guess either because Japanese Macaque are white furred or bc he died.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Ok so this may be a sensitive topic and definitely doesn't need to be answered so TW Did mk ever go through a depression thing after trying to die to save the universe in the last season in your au? A in like what if Wukong and Mac find out he used to SH?

hish. I'm not probably the right person to answer this. Probably he did had depression tendencies but didn't recognize them until someone pointed them out.

Anonimo ha chiesto: This ask os Going to be a little weird But Can I See Macaque Pining Wukong on the wall?In a Flirty way?(pretty Please?) I love Your Art so much!👑❤️‍🔥💎

Ouh.. *cleans forehead from sweat* is getting hot in here... maybe?

@autism-autobot ha chiesto: Wukong: OH BUDDHA, HE CALLED ME BABA!!!!! (SCREAMS WITH JOY) What DBK heard over the phone with his brother: OH andhdbrjjsm (feral monkey screeching)

Poor DBK gotta deal with the gossip now

@alastair-1205 ha chiesto: OMG THE MOST RECENT PART IM CRYING But I also love how Mac's first instinct is just grabbing Wukong and being like: "get out of hearing range before we freak out, get out of hearing range before we freak out, get out of-" you know? It's very funny but also builds on past comics since they woke MK up last time smth like this happened and I'm just !!!!!

GOTTA MAKE THE BABY SLEEP

@eerieqloss ha chiesto: OSISJJWJSJSJWWN OKAY WAIT SO IS MK GONNA START CALLING THEM MAMA AND BABA INSTEAD OF THEIR NAMES CONTINUALLY OR WAS IT JUST THAT ONE TIME

It wont be a one time!

Anonimo ha chiesto: I hope you are resting as you should Always remember to take your time, rest first, then work, ofc as far as possible 😅. I have a fun question (if you have the time ofc 👉🏻👈🏻): will we see Feral MK again? But you know, like another kind of "demonic learning" that maybe wukong or Mac will teach him to control or see that it's not bad as it looks

For now i want my baby to either be happy or traumatized not angry.

Anonimo ha chiesto: I feel like i remember you asking about happier shadowpeach songs for your playlist, but I can't find the post anymore. But if you're still looking, Livingston's new song Glow reminds me of them and also made me think about the eclipse scenes in the comic.

Several of Livingston's other songs also give me shadowpeach vibes, but I think about them so much that I might just be seeing them everywhere at this point.

Oooh true a lot of his song fits really well!!

Anonimo ha chiesto: This is the only instance where having a kid really did bring a couple together.

TRUE LMAO

Anonimo ha chiesto: Soo...Wukong and Mac in the DBK Palace I have a question in my mind!!!! Actually I hope you to see it and draw it.. if you don't wanna it's okay! What if DBK & PIF flirt with each other or smt like this u know in front of shadowpeach?! They will probably look to each other and then blushing hard

HAHAHHA poor souls they would totally think of wanting to kiss each other but can't because they are emotionally constipated.

[coriosbunni]

꩜ .ᐟ - just lay there

pairing: bestfriend!coryo x fem!reader

warnings: degradation, breeding kink, dom!coryo, sub!reader, nasty morning sex, cunnilingus, spitting, masturbating, instructions, slight nipple play, possessive, size difference, pet names

summary: after a party at felix's mansion, you wake up next to your hung bestfriend and your thoughts start to go crazy as he wakes up. he acknowledges his problem and comes up with a solution.

you shift around in the bed as the bright sun invades your peaceful sleep. you and coryo went out last night as a last minute decision. the president's son had thrown a party not to celebrate anything special, but just because the boy wanted to.

you open your eyes, squinting against its golden rays as they flood your vision.

dehydrated from last night's posca, you spotted a water bottle at coryo's desk.

you slowly pulled the covers off of you, as to not wake coryo up, and took light steps to his desk. he was a light sleeper and you didn't want to disrupt his sleep. you knew he was a grump early in the morning and you certainly didn't want to feel his wrath.

you opened the water bottle as you headed back to the bed, missing the comfort and softness of the bed already. though you came back to a sight that was the opposite.

the covers laid slightly above coryo's thighs exposing his boxers and his apparent morning wood.

this never happened before. what were you supposed to do seeing your childhood best friend's hard on for the first time during a sleepover?

you and coryo always had sleepovers but you never saw him have a morning wood. as you looked at his cock peeking through his boxers, your eyes widened and you covered your mouth as you realized he was thick and long.

fuck. you never knew that he was that big. hes at least 8 inches or more. you've always wondered how long he was but you never thought too much about it.

god it was embarrassing how you were thinking about your best friend dick. but he's big, you couldn't help yourself.

god! you were getting lousy dick when you couldve just went to coryo and maybe he couldve helped you out.

you composed yourself and drank your water. you set it on the bedside table and settled back in bed. pulling the covers back over your body to invite the soft and comfortable environment to lull you back to sleep.

but it wasn't working

your mind was filled with how you want coryo to fuck you. him gripping your hips as he pushed himself in and out of you in a rough pace. his hand on your throat as he looked at you, whining and begging underneath him. your hands settled on his chest for stability as you rode him, feeling him hit your g spot over and over again.

you were getting wet at every dirty thought your mind came up with. and you were cursing yourself at how your mind had endless thoughts of how you imagined your best friend to fuck you.

as you desperately tried to go back to sleep, coryo started to wake up. he noticed your eyebrows scrunched up and he wondered if you were already up.

"are you up already?" coryo asks in his deep morning voice. your heart skipped and your body went still, his voice had scared you and pulled you of your thoughts. "yeah, i just got some water. did i wake you?" you opened your eyes to look at him for a second before looking away. you were reminded that you were just thinking the nastiest thoughts of your best friend. "mm only a little but it's okay" coryo yawned out

he stretched his body out and realized he had a hard on. "oh fuck i didn't notice that– wait you didn't see that right?" he asked, worry filling his voice. you didn't expect for him to bring it up. fuck how are you supposed to respond?

"well–" you let out but he interrupted you "you were up before me, no?" he asked, getting you off guard once again.

"um yeah, i was honestly surprised to see you hard" you said, deciding to acknowledge it and to not be awkward with the topic.

"its the morning what do you want me to do"

he's always been a little sassy and you'd be lying if you said you weren't too.

you thought about what he said and realized what he implied. "you have one every morning??" you asked him, you never knew he was hard in the mornings. was it because he was always up before you?

"i can't help it y/n, i was just sleeping."

"damn, it was because me wasn't it?" you joked, you might as well make fun of him for it. you started laughing at him and your question made him flustered

"shh no it wasnt. i wasn't doing anything recently–"

"you know you were making noises and pushing your hips up" you lied to him, making fun of him even more. this was a defense mechanism to the fact you were dreaming of ways he would fuck you.

"i was not! now you're lying to me i wasnt fucking—i usually have to jerk off in the morning" he was getting annoyed at your lies but this new information didn't help the growing ache your cunt had.

he jerks off every morning. fuck you never had a clue he did.

he noticed your reaction and he continued to defend himself "i have to, i have to jerk off before i go to sleep and when i wake up or im gonna be insane all day, im gonna be terrible all day if i don't. and i didnt jerk off last night cause we passed out." images of him relieving himself every day and night flashed in your head and it grew your desire for him.

"you're always hard in the mornings?" you softly asked him, looking at him with a new way you never did before. the way his muscles were visible, the untamed curls on his head, the veins in his hands. you looked at him with so much need and desperation for him.

"i don't even know what i was dreaming about, but it wasn't because of you" your coryo was never one to crudely reply to you but today he was. you knew him well enough to know he was trying to hide something.

"you know what, just lay there i'm going to take care of this" he sighs and he starts removing more of the covers off of him. he slides off his boxers letting out his heavy dick and it flopped onto his stomach and he held it back up. he was so hard and he needed to relieve himself. your eyes widened at the sight of his cock. god you were practically drooling at his length.

you looked at his movements and heat started to rise on your cheeks. he saw the look on your face and explained his actions, "i have to, just don't watch" you couldn't believe it. he would jerk off and you couldn't watch?! what kind of bullshit is that?

"you're gonna do it now? right here??" you were in disbelief, trying to understand what was going on. you looked away pouting. he wasn't going to give you what you wanted and he was evil for that.

"yes i'm going to.. you were watching me earlier so why should you care if i touch myself right here” he knew you. he knew you liked what he was doing and that you wouldnt mind if he jerked off right beside you. he started stroking his pink tip and a string of moans came out of him. he sounded so good and you were so desperate for his touch.

he takes his hand off his cock and brings one up to your mouth “here spit in my hand” he demanded and you didn't think twice before spitting on it. "there you go baby" he lets out when you look him in the eye as you spat on his hand. he started using your spit to stroke his cock up and down. the sounds he let out was heavenly. it wasn't fair. if he could decide he could just masturbate next to you, whats stopping you?

you start to take the covers off of you, the cool air of the room hitting you and the heat coming from your body from being pent up was going away. you start sliding off your shorts and your panties. your legs spreading wide once they were off and you didn't hear a word from coryo and you pretended to not care. he was looking at you so intensely, eyeing your body, noticing your nipples poke out of your shirt.

you started touching your slick and playing with it in your hands to tease coryo. he could see how wet your cunt was as it glistened under the rays of the sun. he continued pumping his cock faster as he watched you.

"who said you can watch snow?" you said, not even looking at him once because you knew he was watching you. he directs your chin to make you look at him. you take a peek at his cock before looking at him in the eyes.

he connects your lips and he starts kissing you with so much passion and lust. the way he kissed you was intoxicating and you needed more. your chest was heaving slightly as you chased your breath, drowning in his kisses. he starts stroking your nipples under your shirt making you moan into him. he rolls the bud in between his fingers and the pleasure wasn't enough.

"touch me please corio" you pulled away from his kiss, desperate for him to fuck you. your mind was going hazy from his kisses and from him teasing you. coriolanus smiles softly at you. he lifts your chin gently, "beg for it" he said making sure to not touch you unless you obeyed his order.

his response was so unnecessarily hot but you weren't in the position to decline his order. so you obeyed like the good little girl you are.

"please corio i need you so fucking bad. touch me please."

coriolanus's eyes darkened with lust and desire at your desperate plea. he captured your lips in a fierce and passionate kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth, possessing and claiming you as his own. "you're such a good girl for me hm" he broke the kiss for a second to praise you. he can feel his restraint slipping as his need for you grows, consuming him entirely.

he pulls you closer, his body pressed tightly against yours. you could feel his cock between your bodies as he settled himself in between your legs, and his arms were by your side, encaging you. "my girl." he leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. "do you want me inside you bunny?" your heart races at his words, your desire reaching fever pitch. "yes please oh my god please" you desperately replied.

he moans softly at your words, his breath hitching in his throat. "look at you desperate for me to touch you like you weren't just making fun of me earlier. you wished i was thrusting into you hmm?" he asked loving the control you gave him by letting your desires get the best of you. truth was that he was thinking of you in his dreams. but he wasn't going to let you know that right now; not when he has you underneath him begging for him to touch you.

"i did, i saw how big you were and i couldn't stop thinking about you." you confessed, tired of him teasing you.

your response turned him on like no other and he decided to finally give you what you begged for. he trailed his fingers down your body, stopping once he finally reached your wetness. he groaned at the feeling, he stroked your pussy before grabbing his cock and teased your entrance with it; rubbing his tip with your slick before slipping in. you both moan at the feeling. your cunt enveloped his cock like a vice. god you drove him insane. he knew he was big so he slowly pushed all of himself inside, getting greedy at the feeling your cunt around him.

once all of him was inside, he gave you a moment to adjust to his size. your eyes were furrowed trying to regulate your breathing. "such a good girl for taking all of me," he hummed stroking your hair out of your face as he was on top of you. he then lowered himself to give you kisses on your neck and face. he was comforting you during this intimate moment. he was your best friend after all, he cared about you. you wrap your arms around his neck letting him cover you in his kisses. once you were ready, you caught his attention and gave him the nod of approval to starting moving within you.

he pulled out slowly and back in. he was hitting that spot that made you roll your eyes to the back of your head. "fuck you feel so good baby" he continued with a faster pace and the pleasure was too good and you needed more of him.

"harder please corio" you whined, loving how he fucked you but you needed more.

"such a good slut f'me" he praised you as he picked up his pace and started to properly fuck you the way you wanted.

the room is filled with the wet and slapping noises as he thrusted hard and fast. "you take me so fucking well princess" he moaned out, absolutely drunk off the feeling of you around him.

it felt so good. your brain was hazy. the pleasure was all-consuming. his soft groans and grunts combined with his comments about how good your pussy felt and how good you were for him was driving you crazy. you clenched his cock every time he thrusted into you and called you a good slut. he found your pleasure spot so easily and was hitting it so many times.

"fuck! y-you're gonna make me cum please!" you moaned moving your hips against his.

"please what baby?" he teased, wanting you to beg for him to let you cum.

"p-please... l-let me cum! cum with me oh my god" you cried out, trying your best to hold back on cumming unless he gave you permission. you were such a good little slut for him.

"you want me to cum inside you huh bunny? a-ah fuck" he was surprised when you said to cum with him. he started fucking into you harder as he thought about filling you up with his seed.

"y-yes! cum inside me please! i need your c-cum" you shamelessly said, finding it hard to hold back your orgasm and desperate to have him fill your cunt. this drove coriolanus crazy so he decided to stop teasing you as he was nearing his peak too

"be a good girl and cum for me baby" he said thrusting into you even harder as he let you cum. you finally let go, clenching down on his cock so hard that it released his own orgasm.

he continued fucking into you as you both came down from the feeling. the sensation made both of you so sensitive. he stayed inside you as he let his cum coat your insides. he kissed your neck as you both try to catch your breath.

"mm fuck" you said breathlessly, fucked out from the activity. he chuckled at how tired you were. he looked at you and decided to be devious and move inside you. you were still sensitive from cumming but god he felt so good. "mm no corio.. 'm too sensitive" you said softly, brain mushy from how he just fucked you but you didnt want him to stop.

"does it feel good baby?" he asked still rutting inside of you, loving the way your cock drunk right now.

"yesss corio feels so good" you moaned out and it urged him to start fucking you again. god he has the stamina of a racehorse, maintaining a powerful and relentless pace so early in the day.

"you feel so good bunny" he moans, his voice almost a growl. "perfect and tight and mine." he lifts your hips slightly, changing the angle and increasing the pace even more. his possession over you showing.

the new angle hits the spot and your grip on his shoulder is tighter, he knows how to make you feel good on your first time and it surprises you. your brain still hazy and you let out a string of moans at the new angle and he knows he's hit the spot so he continues to thrust harder and faster, aiming at that same spot each time. "there you go baby" he grunts, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

"you're my perfect slut" he lets out. the way he calls you his makes you wet like nothing before. you didn't know it would have such an effect but you don't think too hard about it for now, focused on how good his cock is making you feel.

"you're taking me so well" he groans, his voice thick with desire. "so tight and perfect for me" he could tell you were nearing your orgasm again. it didn't take long as you were already sensitive from earlier.

"let go for me bunny," he commands, his voice low and husky. "come for your best friend." his thrusts become more erratic as he nears his own release, but he refuses to give in until you cum.

he makes you cum on his cock again and leaves you way more fucked out than earlier. coriolanus moans as he feels you tighten around him again and he can't hold back any longer. with a final, deep thrust, he finds his own release. "you did so good baby" he praises

you laid in his arms tired and overstimulated. "thank you corio" you mumbled out trying to ground yourself.

your fucked out state was absolutely adorable to your best friend. coriolanus gazes down at you, his eyes filled with love and adoration. he gently brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his touch soft and tender.

he holds back on saying anything that might jeopardize your friendship so he presses a gentle kiss on your forehead and pulls you close, holding you tightly in his arms.

you finally come out of the dazed out state you were in and reality hits you. your best friend just made you cum twice and he came inside you twice. you know there's going to be a talk about this but you want to savor the moment.

so you kept your head on his chest loving the feeling of how tight your best friend is holding you.

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 6 part 1

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4][5][6])

ooh the "magick" mitzvah? I've been puzzling about the connection between william and billy, that's an interesting detail. I'll elaborate in a minute

I've seen a lot of irony about joe locke clearly not being 13 here, but the thing is, sometimes boys do suddenly hit puberty and have an insane growth spurt! and then you get the hilarious visuals of some guy sitting in a tiny desk in a classroom full of children.

my point being, they should have had joe dancing with a bunch of actual 13 year olds, it would have been so fucking funny

I love mama and papa kaplan, and it really gets to me that they lost their boy and don't even know it. I was worried about billy's episode because I thought it would be just a bunch of marvel tie-ins with no heart. glad to report I was wrong

lilia who hates witch stereotypes performing those very stereotypes in order to not fucking starve

william's reflection is billy reversed

lilia foresees william's death and billy's takeover, and she is SO sorry for him. patti as usual conveys so much, you can tell her heart is breaking but she's being kind and lying in order to not scare this poor kid. and this is exactly why being a Seer has always been a burden to lilia, how do you form any relationships, how do you love someone when you've already seen the day you're going to lose them?

“The Tower Reversed.” disaster, destruction, sudden upheaval. but reversed, it means miraculous transformation.

and there is something about lilia choosing this moment as the most representative for billy, a moment that symbolize both billy and william. this is future!lilia embracing her own strength and reclaiming the coven and the community she denied herself her whole life. and not only she includes billy in it, but also william as a fundamental part of billy, a kid that she protected and cherished despite meeting him only briefly.

not only lilia goes above and beyond for william, hiding the truth from him, inviting him to enjoy the party she knows will be his last. she hides the sigil on him so she can protect billy too, because she knows that another little boy is about to wake up in a strange reality and be so lost. she tells william he's a good egg, but she is the goodest egg.

I love the little choices here. wanda's voice on the radio, pretending she's in an idyllic sitcom marriage. and a real life marriage where wanda's 1950s tropes are reversed, rebecca is the one who drives and grabs her husband's hand to reassure him.

another great detail: the dissolving Hex reflected in the car window.

the parallels are taking my breath away. two moms, agatha and rebecca, fiercely loving and protective. both would blame themselves for their sons dying.

but sometimes, boys die. and to quote jac shaeffer, that is tragedy enough to fill the universe.

you can hear william's heart slow down and stop. then, when billy takes over, it starts beating like crazy.

and here's alice, who's also never met william (or billy) before, but she will unquestionably do her utmost to help.

I miss you so much, alice

he's so scared. the way he shakes his head and doesn't know where to look.

imagine being born yesterday, and suddenly you are in a different body and your head is cracked and you're surrounded by strangers. and your brother is nowhere.

that is the worst omelet I've ever seen in my life by the way

(also I know billy is used to instant growth, but imagine switching from child to teenager just like that, it's like going through puberty in two seconds. kafkaesque nightmare fuel)

and it's just so realistic and so moving that the kaplans are presenting a united front even though they are crumbling underneath. and they won't say any of it out loud because they are good fucking parents and it's their job to protect and worry without their kid ever feeling guilty about it. (billy does end up reading their minds because they're not equipped to parent a superhero yet. not that they wouldn't RAISE TO THE FUCKING CHALLENGE. I love you rebecca and jeff kaplan)

william liked classic movies, board games and magic tricks. there were budding hints at a goth vibe too, with dario argento quotes and creepy victorian posters. it doesn't seem at all incompatible with the person billy will eventually grow up to be, I know he had to settle into william's life, but he didn't revolutionize any of it, he kind of followed in william tracks. I think that yes, william died just as wanda dissolved the hex and it was a wrong place and wrong time kind of situation, but he also had to be a compatible donor - as similar as billy as possible, I don't know if genetically or soul-wise or what. they even look a bit similar, same ears, same nose, same eyes, same chin, same triangular face.

these guys really like doing mirror shots, don't they

by the way I will keep calling him Boyf because it's so damn funny, but I do know his name is eddie and I'm really really happy for the representation. there won't be any particularly deep meta about these two because gay boys are so, so far from my realm of interest or expertise, I'm sorry if you were looking forward to it. if you want to add context or ideas about them please do!

another possibility is that billy's soul, while not having any of wiliam's memories, was still shaped and conditioned by his dna and brain chemistry and past experiences, so in a sense william is still in there. you put software in a different hardware, it's gonna affect its performance.

I'll say this about boyf, he's very sweet. billy gives him this crazy story and he doesn't flinch, he just tries to understand and be supportive.

*cough cough* nerd

but look, he's pulling a detective agnes! he really is an agatha mini me.

ah yes, the future coven looking after billy even before meeting him. lilia giving him the sigil, alice being first responder on the site of the accident, jen saving his dating life by teaching him good skincare (he's a teenager! he's got pimples!)

you guys, I hope you don't mind me dedicating some time to billy alone, but I do like this episode a lot.

and tomorrow: it's the return of butch agatha!

go to episode 6 part 2

[pricegouge]

assassin anon again! There's a sword 🗡️ emoji. If it's not taken I will have it!

Still obsessed with papochka. Poor daughter!reader who's been raised isolated from pretty much anyone else. Only a nanny/tutor who aren't even around since she's an adult now. She can count on one hand how many times she's seen Nik. She's so sheltered she's afraid to leave home.

She has an accident. Something like falling off her horse or falling down the stairs. Either way she breaks a leg and maybe a wrist or something else.

Nik comes to check on her and she's just instantly attached to him. Super clingy and weepy because she's in pain and her Papochka is finally around taking care of her. And oh man will Nik take care of her. Why not just sleep in his bed with him? That way he can be close by if she needs something. Don't mind if she wakes up to him grinding against her.

*emerges from the google doc like i'm rising from the fucking dead* it's the fact that you have no idea what you did to me when you hit send that keeps killing me lmao.

this screamed princess locked away in a tower vibes to me so i hope you don't mind i made it into an extremely poorly defined medieval/fantasy au and then proceeded to completely out myself as a complete slut for fantasy and spend seven thousand words just having fun with it 🙄

anyway, i imagine nik as some lesser lord. maybe just a landed knight even, granted some run down keep out in the middle of nowhere, plenty of land, as a thank you from his liege lord after an act of valor.

cw: f!reader. incest, skirting awful close with grooming. power imbalance/reader is very sheltered. period appropriate terms for pussy (sorry. i tried to make it as sexy as possible but sometimes it really makes or breaks the scene), virginity kink, multiple orgasms. touch starvation. minor character death, one of which is hinted at foul play but it's only mentioned in one line. please lmk if i missed anything. MDNI

it's easy to get himself a wife once he has a keep, harder to hold her. i can see her fading away after years spent in such isolation, growing more and more melancholy and distant until one day she just. well. the wounds on her wrists, it's hard to imagine such a gentile lady doing something like that, but it must have been what happened? surely?

she never gave him a son, but he's left with the daughter. you're a sweet little gurgling thing he doesn't know what to do with, especially not when duty calls and he's needed elsewhere again. so he gets a handmaid - of sorts. in truth he doesn't quite know what she is, her language one he's not overly familiar with, but she was hard at work in his lord's scullery when he found her and it was a simple matter to ask for another favor, really, even if she wails the whole time. 

war's war, a hard thing to pull away from when you've proven yourself as well as nikolai. harder still when your liege is a greedy man. he's rarely home, misses much of your growth. but his travels take him far and wide and he learns to speak the language of the handmaid, a good thing considering it's what you come to speak, his own daughter's tongue foreign to him. so far removed. like your mama, really, but where his wife had faded in isolation, you appear to thrive.

hard to miss something you never had, he supposes, but if that were true, he shouldn't miss you, not when he hardly even knows you, not when you don't even call him papa in the proper language. but he misses you like he misses his hearth - warm embrace and scent of home. he's ashamed to admit it, but it heats his blood some nights, when the loneliness of the road weighs on him. he's only a man and you've grown quick, as far as he can tell. one minute clutching the maid's skirts and the next helping her in the kitchen, grain enmeshed in the coarse weave of your sleeves. you're a lady, of some fashion - at least when compared to how he grew up - but you're content with this simple life, happy with the dirt under your fingernails. and what man could want for more? a simple woman at home to welcome him with soft arms and the scent of bread?

though he does want more for you, wants to spoil you like the proper little lady you are, his printsessa, so graceful, but ladies come with courts, whole teams of servants at your beck and call to feed you properly, brush your hair and bathe you. 

stable hands to teach you riding, shoe your horses for you.

more cocks in the roost.

you're the light of his life, his sweet dochka, so he can't be blamed for growing covetous. illiberal. it's unwise, will make you an undesirable match later in life when you can't do the things most ladies are supposed to, but there's nothing for it except to keep you squirreled away at home, no one to talk to besides your sweet maid who keeps you unlearned and simple, helpless even to speak with the rabble when you are permitted to walk to town on your maid's arm. 

helpless even to know you need help, until your maid grows too old to take you, too frail to feed herself. nikolai's away for that bit, returns some months later to find you beside yourself, hysterical. stir crazy. he's just grateful the old baba was clever enough to tell you how to dispose of her body - though you didn't do a very good job, the shallow grave you'd dug empty when he finds it under a tree in the east pasture. wolves, likely. he'll have to take care of them before he leaves again. 

it ends up being his longest stay at home in nearly twenty years. a good thing, too, because you need the time almost as much as he does, nerves unwinding under his care after so many months alone. you care for him too, when he lets you, singing to him by the fire until he nods off, thoughts too sluggish to keep up with the translation, your strange foreign tales washing over him until it's just sounds, just the lovely lilt of your voice. you're like a little bird. his little bird, so sweet.

he wants to keep you, clip your feathers, but he can't maintain them from half across the kingdom and there's no one at home to do it for him, so he has to trust you - for now.

the horse frightens you, and he tells you it well should, though it's no destrier, the gentle palfrey shirking from his own mount with flared nostrils and agitated huffs. she's a docile little thing usually, barely even knows how to canter. he teaches you how to take care of her and you pout about the added chores, but there's no denying the excitement he sees in your eyes when you realize the autonomy he's given you. he dampens it with a word of caution.

"remember, radnaja, town holds no friends for you. without your maid, no one will understand you, and an unchaperoned lady will draw many an unwanted glance. you must only travel in the event of an emergency."

there's more peeping, some half-hearted arguments. he doesn't know how the commoners have received you in the past, but you give in easily enough so it can't be a great loss. at least, not enough to outweigh your eagerness to please him, thinking it will make him stay.

you've only just settled when the next call to arms comes and he has to listen to you weep all night, keeping him awake when he really needs the rest. there's no soothing you, no matter how many times he reiterates that you'll be okay, that he's fixed everything, set you up with a year's worth of grains and root veggies in the cellar, and deliveries of cured meats. you know how to milk the goats, how to slit their kids' throats come winter. he doesn't understand why you're so upset, but then, he didn't understand your mother either.

he starts to, though, in the long months that follow; the loneliness that eats at him. at night he hears the trill of your voice in his ear, feels your plush hips in his palms, your weight familiar after too many times helping you onto your horse. he's not a good man, nor a proud one. after long days of trudging and battle, he doesn't fight it - succumbs to the quickest, easiest fantasy; more fleshed out now than ever before. the little woman he's got at home. it's like fuel within him, a flame that only gets hotter the longer it burns. he stokes it daily and it feeds him in turn, makes him bloodthirsty, efficient. there's talk of granting him a larger keep by the end of it.

lace, silks. he pictures you in dresses that tie in the back, maids swarming around you like gnats to keep you primped and pretty. he'd swat them away and lace you up himself if he had his way, grunting with how tightly he pulls your stays. in his thoughts you're already a proper lady, one of those simpering little helpless things who gather around to welcome the lords home. he dreams of seeing you waiting for him at the field gate as he rides home, hair all plated and pretty. like church bells, calling him home, hastening his trip. sometimes he even sleeps in the saddle, the leagues flying underfoot. he's never been this eager to be home, but the years add up; and he aches, just wants to hear you sing to him, too see if you'll be good to your papa and rub his sore knee.

perhaps that's why he doesn't notice the horse at first.

he'd crossed the border onto his own land some miles back, driving his heel hard into the flank of his mount. pines whip past in an endless sea, but he knows the path well, a game trail he himself has carved. his horse notices the other before he does, slowing to a trot and trumpeting. odd. a hardened beast, the destrier did not often feint, but nikolai spots the issue after a quick glance around.

poor creature, eager at the first sight of tail. must be as hard up as him.

dismounting, nikolai tuts to see your reins untethered and calls for you, voice stern as he begins his lecture about the importance of hobbling your mount.

but you never come. not so much as a twig snaps in answer, his own echo all that greets him.

he doesn't panic. not yet. he ties your horse to his own and sets off again, pace much slower for the benefit of your fat little palfrey, keeping his ears strained as he continues to call for you.

your horse's trail is easy to follow, the soft old girl having eaten her way across the fields. the worry sets in the more the path winds, long miles looping over his acreage. aimless. where were you while your sweet little beast was roaming?

he finds you as the sun sets, weather beaten and weary. you can't put weight on your leg and you yelp when he tries to pull you up with a steady grip on your upper arm, but your voice is too creaky to explain why, face twisting in pain with tears that don't fall - the streaks down your pretty face long dried. you shriek when he throws you over your horse's back, though, screams raw and jagged as he rides hard for home.

the first night is the hardest, long hours spent fighting his own exhaustion as he tries to ply you with much needed food and water. you can't move from the bed, can't help yourself even enough to hold the spoon of broth, and he can see why in the mottling on your chest when your smock falls loose enough to show where the delicate bone there should arch. you scream when he hitches your skirts up, his hands too heavy against the deep bruising which runs high on your thigh, perfect ring of a hoofmark dotting dangerously close to your hip.

he's seen men die of complications from such wounds, knows how close you came to the death sentence that is a broken hip.

you try to follow him in the morning, too delirious to understand that he needs to fetch a physician. he ends up having to tie you to the bed, a poor attempt to keep you from injuring yourself further. he leaves you with water and soup, one hand left untied so you could reach it, while the other was bound to your chest, keeping your arm in place. in theory, you could untie yourself, though the knots are so tightly bound he doesn't have to worry. still, when he returns he finds your nails frayed and bloody, the jute rope on its last thread.

they cannot tell if your leg is broken, keep prodding at it with bony old gnarled fingers which he thinks about snapping, if only to remind them what they're looking for. the process makes you sob and shake and cling, your one good arm reaching back to hold him close as the other remains bound to your chest. he sits flush behind you the whole while, cradling you between his thighs. holding the wood they place between your teeth in place, he rocks you whenever able. a pathetic attempt to soothe. and he blames the tears that stain his cheeks on you. transfer from how tightly he holds you, surely.

you sleep after they leave, the tincture they'd given leaving you pliant and soft. even still you cling to him when he settles beside you, careful of the sling that holds you together. he should give you space, let you sleep, but the thought leaves his limbs leaded, too heavy to abide when he tries to pull away. he squired as a boy. they said it was an honor for one so base-born, but he knows now it was only a testament to his size, his strength. even then there was no hiding it, plucked from the village by a passing lord who knew a weapon when he saw one, dressed it up as an honor. he'd play at knighthood when his master was otherwise occupied, stealing away with bits of armor and swords. the first time he'd donned mail, it had nearly made him buckle under the burden, his body unused to the weight. he feels like that now. untried.

you gurgle when he peppers kisses along your hairline. he'd left you completely alone, unwatched. unguarded. he's lucky to have found you alive at all. if he'd been longer in coming, if he'd died in the cause -.

you cuddle closer, snuffling after more kisses. it eases something in his chest, some tightly wound spring he's unaccustomed to feeling, here in the safety of his own home. his next kiss lands lower, the bridge of your nose, then another high on your cheek. your lips part, a soft sound calling to him and he melts into you as much as he can without causing further harm, lips soft against your own.

his sweet, little bird. clipped wing, still singing.

—

thoughts come wispy, barely connected. spiderweb threads which weave in and out of consciousness. there's pain still, but it's lesser somehow. dulled around the edges. you vaguely remember being fed some sticky solution, the bite of it as it slipped down your throat. it had reminded you of the grain alcohol your father sometimes brought home, the stuff you would sneak sips of after he'd started snoring in his chair. it left you loose the same way. easy, passive.

but this didn't help the ache in that same way, the hollow chasm in your chest you've lived with ever since nana passed. it yawns now, needy and desperate. you whimper as you roll, searching, expecting nothing -

and find the warm musculature of another body.

despite your wishes, it's hard to resist the urge to spring up, shrieking, but you manage. instead you turn slowly, fearfully, and nearly sob in relief at the sight of your father's sleeping moue. it's strange, how quickly the lingering effects of your medicine seem to clear. physically, you remain languid, but you've not felt more alert since his last visit, the first time you sat astride your pretty pony and felt for the first time, some modicum of control. this is different, but the effect is the same, leaves your very veins singing with excitement, the tallest tree in the forest, recently struck from the heavens and burning from the inside. you want to consume him with yourself, divine retribution for leaving you alone. more so, you want him to already be with you - an owl at home in the hollowed knot of your chest when you were engulfed.

but he sleeps too peacefully, strong brow obscured by the strands of hair which have escaped his severe style. thick arms encase you, heavy in rest. comforting. you enjoy it as long as he lets you, fingers growing bolder as the morning stretches on, tracing up over his furry forearm, smoothing the folds of his shirt where it rides up to his elbow. he doesn't stink like you'd expect, melt water crisp. he must have washed the filth of the road off while you'd slept, and you can't help but luxuriate in it, craning your neck up to nudge against his throat until he grumbles and snuggles deeper, returning the favor. you play with the thick, gold chain he wears and lay it flat as you can manage against his broad chest, intimate your knuckles with the coarse stubble of his jaw. he wakes when you push his hair back into place, catching your wrist in his big paw so quickly that it makes you jump, crying out when the sharp pain cuts through your hunger.

his grip turns soothing instantly, "shh, shh, malýshka, settle."

"you scared me," you pout, and then pout some more when he levels you with a warning look, rather unearned.

"and you scared me," he counters, kissing the inside of your wrist. his lips are hot against your skin, a relief from the chill of the early spring air. you tuck it back under the blanket when he releases you, the heat built under the cover more than enough to keep you warm; although you realize as your palm settles over the rough spun linen that you've been stripped to your chemise and briefly marvel at that possibility. he emits heat like the hearth, fresh fed. mornings are usually a frigid affair, the coals having guttered, leaving you shivering. but in your father's arms you are content. lazy. happy to sink your fingers into the fur of his belly where his shirt rides up and stave off the frost.

until he tries to squirm away.

"father, please," you whine, grasping for him.

slumping back beside you, he groans, hand over his eyes as if he can't even look at you. "i'll not go far, radnaja."

"just another moment, please? you're so warm."

he grunts when you try to wriggle closer, heavy hand falling on your belly. "and you're needy."

unfair, all things considered, but you don't think it's worth mentioning as much, so you settle for reminding him you're hurt.

"and last time i was home, hm? were you hurt then as well?"

teasing, but you don't find it so funny. "can a heart not hurt?"

he doesn't seem to know what to say to that, instead huffs once more, breath warm against your face, and rolls away, slipping your grasp easily. his tunic is loose, untied at the collar. you've never noticed how hairy he is, pelt a deep contrast to the chain. it's good work, you think - not that you're overly familiar with the intricacies of fine metalcraft, but you've never seen anything like it, thick links so packed and tight it more closely resembled his mail than a proper piece of jewelry. you wondered where he'd acquired it, knew full well the smithy in town could never manage such finery. it was hard not to be a bit jealous, though the nature of it surprised you.

in all your nana's stories, such gifts were only given by loved ones.

~~~

he cooks potatoes and rashers of ham for breakfast. fresh ham, must've brought it with him when he returned. you lay on the bed and salivate, fingers itching. restless and impatient by turns. your nana would have taken a switch to your knuckles if she found you abed while your father cooked, but he seems unbothered by the work, if unpracticed. he lingers when he brings your plate, torn. you try to scoot up the cot to give him space, imply invitation, but he turns away when he sees you wince with the movement, settling at the table where the cold spring light is transmuted, glowing golden as it filters through the horn slats which pane the windows.

your nana's stories have never mentioned beautiful men, at least none like him - burly, old; more bear than man. you've no way with words, but you think you could write new stories, better, paint his hard, weathered body in a kinder light. if only he'd sit still.

"if you leave again, i'll die."

chewing, he eyes you over, the bulky shape of your awkward arm visible through the woolen blanket. that is not what to what you refer. "da. appears you are stuck with me for a while."

there's no hiding the excitement in your voice, not that you're socialized enough to know you should try. "you'll stay?"

another bite, fatty slice. he tears at it like a stray dog, tendons of his neck flexing as he works the piece between sharp teeth. "no choice."

it's not quite what you want to hear, but it soothes you nonetheless, a soft counterpoint to the ache that's slowly rebuilding in your leg. "what will you do if you're summoned again?"

he just shrugs, imparts some saying in his language, no doubt wise. "tell them to 'piss off,' i suppose."

"and after? when i'm healed?" if you heal.

blunt fingers drum on the table. he eyes you like a problem to be solved. "after, i leave."

he's unexpectedly sympathetic when you cry, cooing as he crawls onto the bed beside you. he speaks words that sound reassuring, but they aren't all in your shared tongue and you can only sniffle, holding onto him for all you're worth. you tell him you don't want him to leave, but he just nods, curling around you as best he can. you don't tell him that he jostles you too much, keep your grimace under tight control, the ache of the movement worth the comfort of his care.

despite the pain, you gather you can't have broken your leg when he lifts them gingerly, folds his own up under yours until the tops of his thighs rest under your rump. he's still gentle when he lowers you legs overtop his own, palm heavy and warm he slides it up your tender leg to palm at your hip, drag you closer into the wall of his chest. he's on your good side, knows it; pulls you so close your shoulder gets wedged into your side, pushing your breasts together. you brace his chest instinctively with the fingers of your uselessly bound arm when he leans over you, lips chapped and hot against your hairline as he keeps murmuring, language a tangled knot you can't unwind.

it's not what you're focused on, regardless.

your father is a large man, large enough that he'd single handedly skewed your perception of how a man should look. it wasn't until you were grown, standing next to the blacksmith while he fashioned some lock for nana that you'd realized it. the largest man in town, and you still came up to his chin - though he was admittedly slightly broader than your father. you'd come to appreciate your father's stature on his last visit, the ease with which he'd help lift you into your saddle, the way his height loomed over you making you feel safe, secure. here, now, his broad chest blocking out the room as he leans over you, heavy weight braced on an arm which flexes deliciously as he ducks to peck kisses across your face, you feel a little faint, the ghost of his hands on your hips making you ache to your core - that hollow pit, low in your belly, an emptiness that surpassed hunger, rivaled even that loneliness that's made a home in your chest.

it would eat you soon, if not fed.

"father, please. it hurts," you warble like a baby bird, maw agape. expectant.

he doesn't feed you, eats from you, instead. takes more, mouth hot and open against your own. you wonder if he's just as hollow. "i know, devochka, but you'll be better soon, hm? just need to let your papa take care of you, yes? need -."

"no." you whine when he pulls away, chase his lips as he sits back above you, out of reach. you forget to elaborate until he arches a brow at you, waiting. "not that… not there. here."

desideration has weight, caves your tummy when his eyes follow the path of your good hand low into the cradle of where he's got your legs hitched. he leans back further, bears his weight full on his side so his big paw can climb over the hills of your body, slip south like so many raids. when he presses, applies force, the sharpness of your hunger shocks you, breath going ragged. it draws his attention, dark eyes snapping up to your face so he can track how your lips part when he does it again, the way your eyes go slightly unfocused. it's strange, how he can stoke the fire within you while somehow also making you feel as close to quenched as you ever have.

it scares you. "should you get the doctor again?" something perilously close to anger curls his lip, sets you floundering beneath him, afraid to have disappointed. "sorry, it's only -."

"i have you, malýshka. papa will make it better."

this time when he lowers himself over you, he lets you take his weight, hand staying put on your belly. his other arm curls under your neck, props you up so he can return to his biting kisses, the ones that let him drink soft noises from your lips and feed you with his heavy huffs. you've never kissed like this before, his quick pecks normally placed on the corner of your mouth, or the divot above your lips. nana only ever kissed your cheeks, sweet things which had unfortunately grown sloppy with her age, often left you amused, if mildly disgusted. these are sloppy kisses too, his tongue hot and wet as it slips over your teeth. you imagine biting into it, an undercooked slice of meat, the hot flow of his lifesblood over your jowls. when your stomach flips, it is not with disgust.

you don't realize he's worked your skirt up over your hips with slow, clutching fingers until you feel them on your skin, calloused and warm above the thatch of hair that covers your woman's place. "father?" you whine and he tsks at you, tongue very nearly clicking on your own teeth with how close he stays.

"call me papa, radnaja. about time you learned to speak proper."

it feels good on your tongue, the soft pops as your lips brush against his. must sound good to him as well, for he doesn't wait to hear your question once you've spoken it, mouth returning to yours with a renewed hunger.

"papa, please, what are you -?"

his fingers are too rough when he hikes your good leg further over his hip, baring your flower. you yelp but he just eats that, too, breath turning ragged as it fans across your lips when his palm returns to cup your woman's place. even grabbing his wrist does no good, your fingers like brittle little branches which he shakes off with ease.

"told you, malýshka. papa's gonna make it better, hm? know what you need."

"but nana said not to touch there, not when i'm hungry."

you worry you've misspoken when he leans away from you, brow knitted. "hungry?"

"when i'm empty -," you start, try again more confidently when you wrangle his hand back up to that achy spot, low in your tummy. "when it hurts."

embarrassment blooms as he releases a shaky laugh, palm splayed wide over your belly. you try to wriggle from under him, but the arm tucked beneath your neck pulls you back, bicep bulging as he keeps you in place with a quiet shh. "your nana was right, dochka, and what a good girl you've been to have listened. but do you know why she said not to touch?" he shakes his head when you do, vaguely patronizing. "of course not, milaya, tak khorosho. she was protecting your maidenhead. do you know what that is?" this time when you shake your head, you're rewarded with a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth, his hand pressing against your belly until you squirm again. "that's your gift, sweet girl. for your husband. but until you give it to him, do you know who it belongs to?"

you've never noticed how dark his eyes are, almost black. his grin is vicious when you shake your head again.

"to your papa, glupaya devchonka, so i'll touch you there if i please."

this time it's your head that follows after his, bobbing along absently as he nods encouragingly. your hand covers his as best it can, pushes it down toward the apex of your thighs - your gift. he said he knew what to do and you're eager, the ache worse than ever.

"that's right, little one. i've got you. papa will make it better, hm? fill you up." that last is a growl against your lips. a threat. he hikes your leg impossibly higher and tells you to hold it there, hip aching slightly. it's like he knows, thumb digging cruelly into the taut tendon that stems from your core as he palms one of your cheeks and spreads you for his inspection, fingers slotting embarrassingly along your seam. but he seems unbothered, and you suppress the whine that builds in your chest, heat flushing up your neck.

"ty by posmotrel na eto…" feather light, calloused pads trail up and over your flower. "such a pretty little thing."

your stomach leaps, his compliments far too rare. "th- thank you, papa."

dipping further, he sighs when he finds your dew hidden amongst your petals. "ought to thank you," he mutters, then steals your breath with another kiss, swallowing your gasp as his fingers pull up, brush over something which makes you jolt so hard your chest aches.

"wha - what -?"

he just coos. "shshsh. have to be still, malýshka. don't want you getting hurt again."

it seems inevitable. the whole process - too big, too much.

he's going to leave again.

"papa, please…"

"i know, i'll help." and maybe he does, in a way, but he's only ever made things worse, too; so when he works you over, panting heavily against your cheek as his fingers stroke that hard pearl he's found until you're a writhing mess he has to lean on to keep still, you aren't surprised when the tears fall, overwhelmed and scared. he kisses them away, touch still wringing slow, lazy shudders from you until your breath comes ragged, stomach heaving with toomuchsomuchnotenoughstillnotfull.

he waits until you're hiccupping to fold your knee up to your chest, hips hitching impossibly closer under yours. his breeches are roughspun, the suede placket soaked and sticky when it slots up under your cunt. embarrassment cuts through the haze of your pleasure when you realize it's your own juices, tips you over that edge of panic you'd been riding.

must be, he doesn't care. he calls you 'milaya,' asks if you can take more. you shake your head and he just huffs in amusement, hand already reaching past your cunt to unfasten his stays.

"father, no!" you shriek, pushing at his chest as much as you're able. he ignores you until you slip your bad leg off his own, trying to pull away despite the pain.

"ostorozhnyy!" he barks, settling you back into place. "where do you think you're going?"

nonsensically, you sob, "nowhere!"

"certainly seemed like -."

"i don't want you to go!"

you know little of battle, experience limited to the tales your nana would tell, and those more focused on the outcome than the practice. still, you're reminded of a bow when he stalls, tension in his poise, drawn tight. he looms over you, impossibly big. blocks out everything else, no getting past him. "radnaja," he hedges and your neck creaks with how quickly you turn away from him, try to hide your face in your broken shoulder. of course, he follows, elbow cracking when it catches his weight so he can lean over you, press his nose hard into your cheek. "milaya, look at me. look." his fingers are soft against your jaw, turning you back towards him with the utmost care. "i'll not leave you again. where i go, you follow, hm?"

unable to meet his eyes, your voice aches as it rips through your raw throat. "you promise?"

he doesn't, not until you look at him properly and he's rewarded you with a kiss between the eyes. but he repeats it when his manhood strokes your petals, uses it to settle you like one would a horse, voice low and soft, a constant murmur used to ground you as he carves a place for himself, kissing away the tears that come when the tight pinch finally gives.

it's a litany, his own hymn to counter the prayer he pulls from you. he's gentle, despite the way his chest heaves. you're reminded of how he trains sometimes, alone and shirtless in the yard. he laughs when you yank at his tunic, and nods, sitting up enough to pull it over his head in one fluid motion. when he settles, he's lower, face level with your chest. it allows him to sit deeper within you, fill you properly, as he said. his promises finally peter out when he draws your first breathy gasp, different now from the pained noises you'd been letting slip. his hand follows yours when it flutters from his hip, falls to that achy spot.

"still hurt, malýshka?" he looks just as hungry as you, just as consumed. when words fail you, he drags his hand up your chest and splits the panels of your chemise, exposing your chest as best he can despite your sling and groans when he finds your nipples pebbled.

first one, then the other, he inspects each breast with roughened hands, wide palms molding over them, fingers pinching until you whine. he soothes the ache with his rough tongue, lowering his head until he can pull the closest breast into his mouth, jaw hinged wide as if he wished to swallow you whole. his mouth is hot, wet. he suckles, drawing tenderness to the surface which he extorts with teeth and tongue, an alternating attack with no rhythm and no way to prepare yourself. you'd never known your chest could feel like this. you'd never known you could feel like this, hot all over yet shivering as if spring had receded, ebbed until the frozen tundra of winter battered the keep walls. chasing the feeling, you try to mimic his movement, rocking your hips down against his own and snaking your good hand up your chest, managing to worm your fingers under your sling before he snags your wrist and scolds you.

"can't have you hurting yourself more, radnaja. have to be careful."

"but i -?"

"i know. feels good, hm? but it will feel better here," he assures, dragging your hand back down, low - lower, until your fingers frame that pearl of flesh he'd found before. "remember how papa did it? show me what you've learned."

not much, it seems. you're uncoordinated, sloppy, too overwhelmed to find a proper rhythm. it's more intense with him inside you, causes you to flinch away from your own touch. you get distracted, too, reach past your pearl to spread your petals and frame where he's speared you. your fingers come away sticky and slick and you seize around him when you find blood.

you're not sure where it comes from. some long dead instinct, unearthed by fear and the novelty of his comforting presence. you call him papochka in a quavering voice and he makes a sound like he's wounded, reaching blindly for your hand to lick off the blood between broken fragments of sentences, odd threads of your combined languages twining into some semblance of a blanket he uses to soothe you. you think you hear something about your gift, that it just means you've been good for him. you don't catch much beyond that, thoughts whiting out as his own fingers return to your core. there's no flinching away from him.

he's not as cruel this time, lets you wind down without any interruption beyond the way he hikes back up your frame, cock slipping free so he can press open mouth kisses to your cheek. he's still talking, grasp of english steadier now. just needed papa to do it. can't even do it yourself, can you? papochka's got you, don't worry.

but he moves despite his words, letting your leg slip from the cradle of his elbow as he gets his knees under himself and straddles your sore leg. he's careful not to put any weight on it, instead leaning on the back of your other thigh until it folds back up toward your side, same as before.

"is this good, milaya? does it hurt?"

you shake your head adamantly. "no, papa. i'm fine."

he calls you a good girl, but you whine anyway when he tells you you're going to give him one more. he hushes you even as he pushes back in, his head falling back with a groan as this new position finally allows him to sink all the way to the root, and you know instantly why this last turn was necessary, that tight knot in your belly winding impossibly tighter.

as if he knows too, his palm splays over your belly again, fingers digging into your soft flesh. "gonna fill you up, printsessa. just like you wanted. ready?"

the term leaves you breathless, not having heard it since you were little, perched on his knee. technically, you don't know what it means, but it's similar enough to your own language that you don't need his translation, and it leaves you feeling just as spoiled and loved as it always has. you nod, and nearly get shuttled up the bed with how hard he thrusts into you. he murmurs something you don't catch, hand wrapping around your leg to keep you in place. when he begins to move again, it's much slower, a deep grind that has your jaw working uselessly.

papa groans. "not even going to fucking need it, am i? feels that good?"

you don't really know what he's asking, just bob your head along as his thrusts rock you minutely.

"use your words, malýshka."

and you would, if you were capable of them, but he's not fighting fair, making you desperate with shallow little grinds, keeping that word locked back up behind his sharp teeth. hair has fallen into his face, loose strands which cling to his temples and hang over his eyes. it does not obscure the hunger there.

"yes, papochka."

it's not clear how he manages to keep himself restrained. not when he growls like an animal, grips your thigh with bruising force. but his thrusts are languid, deep, and his other hand is gentle when it cradles the base of your skull, thumb keeping your jaw tilted high so he can see how your throat works hard for each breath. he complicates the process further by leaning over you, slotting his lips with yours so he can swallow each noise he pulls, licking along your teeth with enough force you're worried you taste blood.

or maybe it's just the remnants of your gift.

no man would want you now, not even if your father managed to pull together a decent dowry. you'd be stuck with him forever, stuck in this dilapidated keep while he -.

he must feel the panic in your pulse. "promise, printsessa."

this time it works, the knot wrapping so tight it snaps, a taut chain that lets you fall when it gives, leaves you to clatter to the ground, stiff and fragile, until your father scoops up the pieces, collects you in strong arms as he finishes, fills you up just like he promised, buried so deep inside that you know you'll always feel it.

it's then you find he burns, too, his seed so hot within you that you imagine it would sear if not for how tempered you are to your own fire. you gutter out together, the bellows of his breaths too strong to keep you kindling. it's sweltering beneath him, the sweat of his back steaming in the crisp morning air. he kisses you when he's caught his breath, heedless of the fact you hadn't yet. your protests get swallowed up, same as the unadlylike grunt you emit when he slips out. he pulls away at that, seemingly just to laugh at the displeased look on your face when, for one mortifying moment, you think you've started your moonblood and you scramble to see.

a wide palm on your good shoulder stops you, keeps you in place. "you're okay, printsessa. i've got it. stay put."

his joints creak when he climbs from the bed and you're distracted from the shock of cold air by the vision he makes, all heavy muscles and dark, wiry hair. he'd brought home a bear skin once, many years ago. it still warmed your bed upstairs, though you liked this bear better. this bed.

when he returns, papa wipes a cold, wet cloth over your woman's place, coos when you jolt in discomfort. he places a kiss there when he's done and scolds you for trying to squirm away. as if you're the improper one.

you get tucked up next to him again once he's decided you're clean enough and you luxuriate in his embrace for as long as he allows, too afraid to ask any of the questions running through your head lest he get annoyed, change his mind, decide he needs to leave right then, actually, or -.

he kisses the crown of your head. heavy, lingering. you feel his lips move against your scalp when he speaks. "i'm expecting to be rewarded with a better keep soon. further south."

worry sinks like a stone to the pit of your stomach, tears a hole through the bottom, creates an endless chasm in your bowels you will never fill, not even if you lived to the end of time. papa does his best to soothe the worry by tilting your chin up, kissing you softly on the lips. he retreats to peer at you when he finds you lifeless and stiff in his arms and sighs heavily, almost fondly.

"you'll be coming with me, radnaja."

"really!?" you're not sure you've ever heard your voice so elated, a childishness to your tone that leaves you embarrassed, cheeks heated.

papa only laughs. "promised, didn't i?"

"well, yes, but -."

"you'll be my little printsessa, my proper lady. moya zhena, my wife. would you like that?"

there's no helping the way your eyes widen in wonder. "your wife? how?"

"it's not unusual for a man to take a wife while off fighting. a matter of honor, if she's got a little malýshka of her own." his hand finds your belly again, rubs proprietarily heavy circles there. "no one need know where i found you, only that it did. and it would be an easy ruse, what with your broken russian."

ordinarily, the thought of having disappointed him with your foreign language would make you flinch, but you're too caught up in the picture he paints, the pair of you dressed in modest finery as he leads you around some pretty new home, you dangling from his arm. "but what of me? your daughter? surly people will wonder?"

he just tuts, faux serious. "well you can imagine my heartache, returning to an empty home. that shallow grave out in the east pasture. no wonder the baba fled, probably thought i'd blame her for my daughter's death. a widower, no children. who could blame me for finding a pretty little thing to take south with me?"

divider by @/adornedwithlight

[moodymisty]

Just had a very cute idea (choosing Vulkan for this one because I consider him being the biggest and chunkiest Primarch)

Vulkan's beloved cannot sleep without hugging something. In their childhood, they clung to their plushes as they slept. As they passed onto their teenagehood, they still cannot sleep without hugging something, be it a plush or a pillow. And in their adulthood, as they began dating Vulkan, they develop insomnia as they do not have their plushes anymore and cannot physically sleep. So Vulkan, feeling pity for them, let them hug him during the night, cuddling him as they would with their sweet plushes

Author’s Note: I hope you don't mind if i worked with this prompt very slightly, but i still kept all the main things. I hope you enjoy!

Relationships: Vulkan/Gn!Reader

Warnings: just fluff

You're thankful that so often Vulkan brings you aboard the Flamewrought during his crusades; You don't know how you would survive if he left you back on Nocturne.

Not even the heat, but the loneliness. Vulkan rarely has time for you during these crusades, he's far too busy in the warzone or attempting diplomacy, of which sometimes you come along to assist him.

But even then, it still gets lonely. You often don't see him of days at a time, and even if you don't fall asleep without him, he'll be gone once you wake.

"Do you think you'll ever get tired of all of this traveling?"

You speak to Vulkan as he enters your shared room, smiling at you. He notices you're doing something in your lap, but it's hidden enough by your body and the blankets that he can't quite tell yet.

"I don't quite know." Vulkan comes closer, leaning down to give you a kiss to the top of your head.

"And what have you been working on in my absence? Even my men noticed you were hidden away somewhere for quite awhile."

Vulkan is out of his armor, and you can feel the heat of his skin radiating as you lean upright and reveal the project in your lap.

It's a little stuffed toy; In the shape of a Salamanders marine. It's clumsy and lumpy, but it's cute. You missed your old stuffed toys from childhood, and you never quite slept right without them. This planet had a myriad of textiles and you had gotten some- in secret.

"My love, this is..."

You almost fear Vulkan will insult your childish creation, before he smiles.

"This is quite adorable. You are very talented. But..." He rounds the bed to join you, it having been days since he was allowed any sort of proper rest.

"When did you get such tools? I do not remember you asking for them."

You smile. You had gotten them not long ago, and you had 'bribed' meaning asked very nicely, for his men to conveniently look the other way on it. They agreed only as long as Vulkan didn't ask. They would not lie to their father, of which you considered fair enough.

"I got them a week ago, when I went with you. I might have... Asked your men very nicely not to tell you. They said they wouldn't lie, but they wouldn't bring it up to you unless you asked."

Vulkan laughs; His sons have very much begun to like you.

"I see. And who did you ask this of?" Vulkan lightens his tone as if implying he will punish them, and you quickly shake your head.

"Not saying. I took a Salamander Astartes vow of secrecy."

You put your project safely aside, and Vulkan pulls you in close to him. He always sleeps on his back, letting you rest in the crook of his armpit and wrap your arms around his bicep. It was a habit that always helped you sleep, and the nook of warmth he made was always so soothing.

"Be careful about saying such things, you know you're already an influence on them."

You wrap your arms around his bicep and wiggle in, and Vulkan smiles. He remembers when you first admitted that you've always had trouble sleeping. That you would fruitlessly hold pillows and blankets to soothe that feeling. He's glad he helps, in his own way. Even if his body is quite a bit larger than what you would normally be able to hug.

"I'm sure there's worse things that could be influences on them, right?" He hears you yawn, looking down at you.

"Plenty of things, I am sure."

[writingbluerose]

once upon a dream | silver x reader

summary : it has been a few weeks since you've entered Twisted Wonderland as a student and defeated Riddle's overblot. But you've been having these dreams...and a boy is always in them, he's so handsome and kind, too bad he's just a boy made by your imagination, right...?

warnings : maybe some mentions of bullying, reader is Yuu and it's implied she's a girl <3 ; suggestive!

a / n : Other Silver fanfic order for you! A plot that came to me while I was trying to sleep, heh, ironic :3 ( and yes I KNOW, this ain't really an original fic name but believe me I didn't think anything was more fit for this story than this title )

Other day done at Night Raven Collage. Classes upon classes and lots of students that had nothing better to do but laugh and look down at you as always then getting beaten up by Ace and Deuce. It was a routine at this point and it always made you just as tired every day and even more excited at the thought of just crashing into your bed and never wake up again. Though you couldn't help but think about that dream again.

You've been having this dream lately, you're always in the same spot. A forest, with tall thin trees and colorful flowers, and also a lake, so clear it could resemble a mirror and so so very pretty. And yet, not one of them can top his beauty. While dreaming of this forest, there was a boy. A boy with silver hair and eyes with such a beautiful color to them that they rival the aurora borealis back in your world, a boy so pretty you wonder how did your consciousness even make him up. And he comes to you in every dream, every single one, not once he had missed a meeting. His name is Silver, he says, and he's a knight, a knight in training. It's been roughly a month since you met, and you keep wondering if he's truly a fragment of your imagination because he's somehow too perfect and if you were completely honest you've grown to have romantic feelings for him, which not even you can believe.

In another part of the school past the hall of mirrors and into the Diasomnia dorm, a silver haired boy is sitting on the couch deep in thought. Not about something, rather about someone, someone who's been in his dreams for far too long and now occupies his every waking thought. And of course, to search for an answer he goes to the wisest person he knows yet. “Father, are you busy? May I tell you something?” Knocking on a room's door, Silver opened it quietly to reveal the figure of Diasomnia's vice housewarden, Lilia Vanrouge, also Silver's adoptive father. “Of course you can Silver! Come in and tell me, you've made me curious” Giving him a smile, Lilia invited the boy in. Sitting next to him Silver looked at the floor then at his father. “You see, lately my unique magic has been... activating more frequently” “Is that so? How come?” “I don't know how but it's not really that which concerns me more. It's the fact that no matter how many times it activates I end up in the same dream, with the same person, and well... I don't know how to say this...” “Do you know? — Lilia was now listening more closely, more interested by the second by his son's story — Who's dream does it belong to?” “I don't...but, it's a girl. I remember she said her name was Y/N” If Silver would've stayed just a few more seconds looking at his father he would've saw how his smile grew ten times more at his son's confession. Scooting closer to Silver he pushed him to tell more. “And? What's happening in those dreams hm?” “Well, the place we're in is the same, it looks so similar to Briar Valley though, she's always there by the lake, like she's waiting for me and we talk and laugh. I think she thinks I'm just a fragment of her mind, but even so she seems so happy talking to me like she's in her own element and that makes me happy, but lately I can't get her out of my mind, she's always there” “Then? Are you in love perhaps?” His father asked quiet boldly yet he didn't miss how his son's face turned the faintest shade of red. “I don't know for sure, maybe I am...but, what I know for sure is that... She's beautiful”

At the same time, three first year students were crashing in Ramshackle's dorm lounge, three friends to be exact and one little magic beast snoozing away in the corner of the couch. “So this guy has been in your dreams ever since you came here?” “And he's never missed a single one?” Clutching a pillow to your chest, you buried your face in it, clearly embarrassed by the conversation which you started with the goal of searching for a solution to your feelings. You quietly murmured a yes in the pillow causing the two boys to look at each other. “Well I ain't got nothing for your situation Y/N” “Myeah, sorry me neither” “Guys COME ON! There's got to be something! Right? Right?!” Grabbing Ace's shoulders you shaked him desperately, you were way too exasperated for this yet you couldn't help but ask your friends, they were the only ones you could lean your shoulder on. “Ok ok geez! Stop shaking me like that I'm gonna puke! Sevens...hm, to be fair, I can't help but think that that description of yours seems oldy familiar, but I can't wrap my head around it” “I agree with Ace — Deuce turned his head to look in your direction — something about that description seems familiar but I don't remember anyone looking like that at all” You whined and sat on the couch sulking. “What am I gonna do?! How did I even feel in love with a guy that MY imagination created?! This isn't even possible!!” Ace snickered. “Well can't do anything about that! But um, are you entirely sure your imagination created him?” “Well what else would bring him in my dreams every single night?” “Well, it could be someone's, you know... unique magic” “Hm? Oh like Riddle's 'Off with your Head' spell?” “Yeah!” You hummed and looked at the floor thinking. Even if he was real, how can someone be so... perfect? And so so beautiful like Silver?

Two days passed since the conversation with Ace and Deuce and by now you're almost convinced that the boys were right and that in fact the boy who accompanied you in every dream was a boy who was brought here by, probably, his unique magic. Though who is he really? Is his name really Silver? Does he know who you are, is that why he's with you all the time? Or he doesn't and he's being brought here by accident? Answers, you'd like to have the answers to these questions. “You alright Y/N?” Feeling a hand on your shoulder, you turned around to see Deuce next to you, behind you Grim and Ace were bickering about an accident that happened in professor's Crewel class. You softly smiled at Deuce, “Yeah don't worry about it Deuce. I was just thinking” The dark blue haired boy frowned at you, “Are you sure that's all? You know you can tell us everything right?” “Of course yes, it's just...hm...” He took his hand off your shoulder, his expression turning softer. “Hey, if it's about that guy in your dreams, don't worry about it. I'm sure we're going to find him soon! Don't let that ruin your day, alright?” You gave him a soft smile and turned your head in front of you, but just as you started walking again your body was thrown onto the floor by a sudden force...you hit someone didn't you? “Y/N! Are you alright? You're not hurt are you— Hrk!” Eyes trailing to the two figures in front of them, Deuce was suddenly face to face with two of the students from Diasomnia. Its Vice Housewarden and... and Silver, who, now that Deuce thinks about it, looked awfully similar to the description of the boy you saw in your dreams. “Oh my! Sorry about that you two! Silver didn't see you here!” Lilia laughed the matter away, not noticing the way Silver looked down at you. Something about you was awfully familiar.

Silver snapped out of his thoughts and held out a hand for you to take. “I apologize, I... I didn't see you, I wasn't paying attention to where I was walking” Rubbing the back your head, you took his hand before looking at him with a smile. “That's ok, I also need to pay attention to where I- ah!” Your hand stopped mid-air, your eyes wide at the person in front of you. It's him, that's him! That's...that's Silver! “U-uhm...” You shakily took his hand and pulled yourself up on your feet quickly retrieving your hand from his. “I'm- uh- yeah! I'm ok! Don't- don't worry about it!” You looked anywhere but at him because goodness, if you did you wouldn't be able to tear your eyes from his. Unbeknownst to you, Silver was thinking the same. He finally found you, you're here at NRC, right in front of him, it's you. You looked at Deuce with a panic the boy has never seen before. “Come on Deuce! We gotta go!” Startled by your voice Deuce barely had time to think before you grabbed his arm. “Wh- hey are you ok?? Y/N?!” You hurriedly pulled his arm to be out of Silver's vision. From behind you, Ace's voice echoed through the halls, completely oblivious to what happened seconds before. “Hey hold on where're you going? Wait for us!” With Grim on his shoulders Ace quickly caught up to both of you and just like that you were out of Silver's reach. His eyes trailed to the place you feel. Noticing his distress, Lilia questioned him, “Something wrong Silver?” The silver haired boy waited a minute before answering back to his father. “Lilia that was her. That's Y/N, it's her, I finally found her” Silver couldn't believe it, you were not a meaningless dream he's been having, you're real. And Sevens, he never wanted to feel your touch more than he does now.

Ohmygodohmygodohmygod. Your mind was racing as you stepped in circles in the back of the Ramshackle dorm. After class ended you quickly excused yourself to Ace and Deuce and ran back to your dorm. You can't believe it! Silver! He's- he's real! And he's at this school! Gosh you've never felt more embarrassed than you did now. How are you even going to meet his eyes or even cross him in the halls without it being awkward? And yet... you feel so happy. He could've easily dismissed you like everyone else, he had magic so he had every right to. Yet he didn't, he stayed and listened to whatever you had to tell him despite your inferiority. And that made you really happy. Silver was kind, perhaps the only kind person you'd ever find here. Smiling to yourself you looked up at the sky, “I wonder if he'd meet me now that he knows who I am” “Of course I would, I don't have any reasons not to” From behind you, a calm voice answered your question. Silver silently walked and stopped next to you. “Why would you think I wouldn't?” You looked down before blushing slightly “Well, you know...not many people want to have something to do with me because I'm...well...you know, magicless, so I'm weak” Silver frowned. “Weak? I wouldn't say that being magicless means you're exactly weak. There are other types of strength you can train and use to your advantage, just because you don't have magic does not mean you're inferior to anybody, you should always remember that” Smiling at you, Silver landed you his hand in hopes that you'd take it and you did. “Do you trust me?” You laughed “After all the time we spent together? How could I not?”

Without any words exchanged between you, both of you walked deeper and deeper in the forest with you taking a peak at Silver's expression from time to time to see if you can discover what he plans on doing. Soon enough you both arrived at an opening in the forest. The trees were tall and forming an almost perfect circle around you giving space for the sun to peak through the leaves and branches, there were small patches of flowers with all types of colors and you could hear tiny birds singing happily. How could such a place even exist on the grounds of this school? It's like a place from a fairytale. “This place is...really pretty, I didn't know such a place existed here” “It is yes. I come here whenever I feel drowsy after hours, I would usually hate the idea of sleeping for such a long time, but sometimes even I can't help myself... Though I wish to get rid of my drowsiness as soon as possible” Pouting, Silver scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. “But that's not why I called you here” He came to you and took both your hands in his, dragging you a bit farther into the opening. Still holding your hands he looked at you with a seriousness you've never seen from him, even in your dreams. “Y/N — he began, a bit hesitant, you noticed — I wanted to tell you this here, so I hope you'll listen to me until the end” Looking at his questioningly you smiled and signaled for him to continue. “Ever since I've met you in your dream, I-... I wasn't able to get you out of my mind. You were there in my thoughts even at times where I was thinking about something completely unrelated to our adventures. And soon enough I... I discovered that I love you! I really love you and when we met today I realized that my feelings for you were even stronger! So I don't know if you feel the same but I wanted to tell you. I love you Y/N, I love you” Taking a few seconds to process his words your face became redder and redder in every passing second you thought about every single word he said. “Silver I... I love you too! And I've been loving you for so long, even when I thought you were part of my imagination! I mean how could I not? You're so handsome and kind and- and perfect! I... I've always loved you, like, a lot” The boy's eyes widened in surprise at your words “Perfect? You think I'm perfect?” You excitedly nodded at his question.“The most perfect person I've met”

You steeped closer, your bodies almost touching. Silver's eyes trailed to your lips signaling what he wanted before he met yours again. One hand went to your waist the other still holding yours. Doing the same one of your hands found its way to his shoulders pulling him even closer, feeling his breath so so close to your lips that you couldn't help but shiver. At that, Silver squeezed your waist as a way of telling you that he is too, getting impatient. You looked him in the eyes while your lips almost touched. “Do you want to? Show me how much you love me?” “If you'll allow me” Feeling his words against his lips you nodded, accepting. At that, Silver's lips finally found yours and he groaned at the contact. His hand left yours to hold your cheek and yours flew to his silver locks and grabbed his hair. Silver groaned again before he nibbled at your lip and bit it causing you to gasp against his mouth allowing his tongue to explore you. Not a single inch was left out, Silver wanted to engrave you in his mind, how you felt against him, your touch, your looks every single thing. The kiss lasted for a long time, every single breath, whimper, groan and brush of tongue exchanged was engraved in both of your minds, bodies so desperate for each other's touch that letting go was almost impossible.

After some time you finally parted with heavy breaths and puffy lips. You looked at each other for a while before smiling. Silver's hand brushed the hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear smiling softly. “You're so beautiful” “Me? You're mesmerizing” You said laughing. The boy took your hand in his and brought it to his mouth kissing it, his lips lingering for a moment before he pulled away and kissed you on the lips once again. “I love you” “Hm, I love you too Silver, so much” You hugged him pecking him on the lips, you just couldn't resist not to do it, he was just so pretty for you to resist.

After the confession, you and Silver didn't stop meeting in your dreams. Even when Silver's unique magic didn't work he himself made it work so he can see you every night. Dancing and laughing in your dreams at night, whenever you couldn't meet at school, exchanging kisses in the dreamworld. When you did meet at school you make sure to sneak out, even if it's just for a minute, to spend time together before going back to your respective tasks. And both of you couldn't have it any other way. Silver sometimes hopes that you'll stay with him so that you can grow old together, he knows it's selfish but he's allowing himself to be just for a little while if that means you'll stay with him until the end of his life.

[mintmatcha]

cw: baby, cisfem reader who recently gave birth

He has your eyes, you think. It's hard to tell. The baby is still in its squished phase, curled in on himself and grasping at whatever comes close. Closer to grub than human, you think. His cheeks are still ruddy from crying, but his glassy eyes have finally started to close and he sinks into sleep in your arms. With all of the care you can muster, you take the baby and ease him into the crib, praying that he doesn't wake again.

When he stays silent, you ease back away from the crib and back carefully out of the door. You close the door carefully and sigh as you relish the first moment alone you've had all day-- and then you burst into tears yourself.

"What's wrong?"

Ushijima stands at the top of the stairs, shedding his jacket where he stands. You're almost embarrassed for him to see you like this, disheveled and frankly dirty, your maternity bra undone. He's been your husband for years now, he's seen worse, but this feels worse. His brow is knotted with worry, eyes stone strong as ever as he watches you sniffle. When he steps in, arms outstretched, you step aside, giving way for him to see his baby. Instead, your husband comes to you. Wide hands cup your shoulders, thumbs rubbing up and down a bit too roughly to be comforting.

"Are you alright?"

You nod, lip quivering as you bite back your tears. He inspects you closely, brow raised.

"Are you lying?"

You nod again before bursting into sobs again. It's an ugly cry, all snot and coughs, but your husband doesn't pull away. Instead, he tugs you closer, tight into his chest.

"Tell me." Wakatoshi urges as gently as he can. At first, all you can be is blubber, every exhausted emotion coming to the surface at once. You're tired, you're thirsty, you're seventy other emotions that you can't pin down, but the one that comes out of your mouth first is:

"I'm a bad mom."

"Don't say that," he's quick to say.

"I am." His shirt is wet with tears, but you can't stop. "I'm so tired and thirsty and my boob really hurts and I'm not making enough milk- and, and--"

"I was supposed to love him, Toshi, and I just don't."

Ushijima chuckles, softly enough that you can't hear it, but you can feel how his chest shakes.

"It's not funny!"

"You do love him."

Of course you do. You wanted him more than anything in the world. Years of patience and love brought you this baby, and you wouldn't trade that for the world-

But it's just not what you had expected.

"Not the way I'm supposed to!" You pull back just enough to meet his eye. His brown hair is still mussed with sweat from his game. "It was supposed to be instant and special and perfect, but--"

You swallow down your rising panic and glance back at the door.

"I'm not connecting with him," you admit. You love your son, but he's just a baby. All he does is sleep, eat, and cry. There's no special spark about him, nothing that would make you lift a car or die in his honor. It's hard to feel anything when you're so exhausted.

"I think I'm broken."

Ushijima processes this for a long while, the rub of his thumbs much slower now.

"It's not the same," he says quietly. "But, I've never easily connected with anyone, not even you."

It's true. Ushijima is a good man, but he struggles socially to this day. He turns down outings that he isn't interested in, misses social ques and norms, and can be rude without meaning to.

And yet, people still manage to grow warm to him. Hell, you fell in love with the man after months of despising him.

"That does make me feel better."

"Give it time." He pats your back. "I'll take you to the doctor tomorrow."

"I don't need a doctor, I just need time."

He reaches down and grazss over the bare skin if your tit; you had forgotten it was out. "Your breast is hot to the touch. I can feel it through my shirt."

You pull back and feel for yourself. It is uncomfortably warm; you'd been so distressed that you hadn't noticed. That explains the pain.

"We can't. The baby's too little to bring to the doctor's-- there's too many germs, he'll get sick."

"Tendou will babysit," he replies, like it's simple.

"He lives hours away."

Ushijima's already pulling out his phone. "He will come. Go rest and eat- I'll handle everything tonight."

Coming from him, everything sounds so easy. You're frazzled over the fact you reached such a boiling point; does anyone else struggle like this? Or is it just you?

"Are you sure I'm not a bad mom?" You ask again.

He looks back at you and nods, a smile tight on his lips. "Of course I am."

You believe him.

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

Can you write about Eddie dad, like he buys his kid his first guitar? But he has to sell sweetheart to get it? But the reader gets sweetheart back with her engagement ring and then Eddie is like where is your ring???

Just an FYI the baby's name is Asher.

Eddie always knew his child would end up loving music, when you two found out you were expecting he started to play music to your bump as it grew, when your baby boy was finally here with you two Eddie was the only one who was able to make him fall asleep as he sung to him.

It's been years of singing to him, of playing the guitar with him that lead to Asher asking for his own guitar for his birthday. You and Eddie talked about it and decided that seven was old enough for him to start learning how to play.

Eddie was over the moon that his son wanted to play the guitar...he was also heartbroken knowing that you two couldn't afford a nice guitar for him just yet. You both agreed to pick up more hours at work and to save as much as possible in the next few months leading to Asher's birthday. He never wanted to have to pinch pennies now that Asher is old enough to notice slight changes that comes with having to save money.

It was a few weeks before Asher's birthday and he was so excited, all he can talk about was his rockstar themed birthday party. You were busy getting everything ready that you haven't had time yet to talk to Eddie about the guitar and Eddie took that to his advantage. One day you took Asher to the party supply store to pick out whatever he wanted and Eddie quickly went to the pawn shop.

It hurt his heart having to sell his sweetheart but it broke his being knowing that Asher wasn't on the path of getting a guitar with how much you've been able to save. You've cut back on everything. You saved as much as you possible could for the past few months and it wasn't enough. Eddie saw how much you were upset over knowing Asher probably wasn't getting a guitar anytime soon and as he thinks about you and his baby boy he knew he had to sell his sweetheart to make his sweethearts happy.

You got back to the house with bags full of party supplies and a very happy six year old. "Mama can I call grandpa! I want tell him bout the party theme!" You laugh feeling you heart swells hearing how excited your baby was and you allowed him to call his grandpa as you put away the party supplies to be used later. As you were putting things away you noticed your husband missing. Soon after noticing this Eddie walks through the door with the excuse of Dustin asking for help with the upcoming campaign. You shrug it off without thinking of anything.

When it's time to tuck Asher into bed he asks Eddie to play a song. You see Eddie tense up and stutter out an excuse of his throat hurting slightly. It takes Asher a little longer to fall asleep that night.

It's two days before Asher's birthday when you pull Eddie to the side to ask about the guitar. "I think we have just enough for a cheap guitar for him" you mutter when Eddie sighs, "Actually...." he mumbles and winces as your focus snaps towards him. "Actually?" You question making him nod. "Isoldsweetheart" he says as quickly as possible. You glare at him playfully, "Munson you know I can't understand you" you say playfully, he takes a deep breath and says it again. "I...I sold sweetheart" Your eyes widen and your breathing hitches. "YOU WHAT?!?!" You nearly scream as he covers your mouth, "Baby don't yell you'll wake Ash" you nod and he uncovers your mouth and sighs again.

"I sold sweetheart. I don't want to give him a shitty guitar for his first one and I can always get a cheap one later to replace her." He tries to justify his actions as you shake your head, "Baby you love that guitar" He shrugs, "I sold it. That's the end of that but I want to get him a true guitar. One that he'll grow up with." All you can do is nod knowing there is no point in arguing.

Eddie was in charge of getting the guitar, you knew nothing about them so he went to his work and got what he deemed worthy enough for his baby. While he was getting the guitar you dropped Asher off at Wayne's to go get sweetheart back. You can tell Eddie is upset with the lost and so is Asher even if he doesn't know that sweetheart is actually gone just yet. You found out where Eddie sold the guitar at and went over with the only expensive thing you owned...your engagement ring.

Today Asher woke up with so much knowing that today was his party. You were in such a rush that you forgot all about sweetheart and your ring. While you were setting up the tables Eddie was setting up all the presents for Asher to be open later in the day. He looked over at you and smiled seeing you talking to Asher trying to lay out the table cloth. He goes over to you two so he can help you out but then something makes him stop in his tracks. "Where is your ring?" Hearing his voice makes you stop in your tracks. "Baby. Where is your ring??" You can hear the confusing and the panic in his voice, you turn to see him and you swallow the lump in your throat before trying to explain yourself.

"Well I...I got sweetheart back..." You mutter making his eyes widen. "You did not sell your ring. You loved that ring!" You nod trying to calm him, "I did but baby I told you before I don't need a ring! I always just wanted our matching bands" He shakes his head but before he can argue back everyone shows up for the party. "We aren't done talking about this." He says before going to greet everyone.

The party is coming to an end when it's time for Asher to open his big present. Seeing his eyes light up and hearing his shouts of excitement made it all worth it. What made it even more worth it was seeing him and Eddie play their guitar together.

A few months later when your birthday came around you were surprised by your baby boy playing one of your favorite songs on his new guitar, and by your other baby giving you a new engagement ring that he made you promise to never get rid of.

Tagging: @emmyshortcake @bloodthirstybreedingbunny @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @thefreak0fhawkinshigh @lofaewrites

[bluehourbucky]

the biting problem

pairing: rockstardad!bucky x f!reader

summary: how theo developed a liking to biting

a/n: I had so much fun writing this hope you enjoy!

rockstardad! bucky universe

main masterlist

bucky masterlist

________________________________________

Bucky didn't know he could love someone more than you, but when he saw his son for the first time, he knew he would do anything for his baby boy.

Bucky loved being a first-time father, the not sleeping for a year didn't even matter to him when he got to wake up next to you.

"Doll look he smiled!" Bucky still after 2 years couldn't stop gushing over his sons little actions.

"Imma eat your toes! Imma eat them all. Nom nom." He says to his son and gently starts biting them, and Theo giggles and screams, making you laugh.

"NOOO. MA TOES MAMMAA!"

You come to help him, but instead, Bucky catches you and starts tickling you. After he's done torturing you and you're out of breath Bucky kisses you softly and then grabs Theo to put him to bed since it was getting late.

"Ouch."

"Is everything okay?" You yelled out from the living room hearing your husband.

"Theo you can't just bite people." Bucky picks up Theo in his arms and scolds him. Theo looks at his father confused, because why not?

"Don't."

Theo laughs and bites Buckys shoulder, hard.

"That hurts, baby. You can't bite that hard. Like this is okay when you're playing. Okay?" Bucky gently nibbles on Theo's slobbery fingers.

"Mmkay, dada." Theo nodds.

_________________________________________

Your phone rings and you pick up immediately seeing its the number of Theo's day care

"Hello. Is this miss Barnes?"

"Yes that's me. Is Theo okay?"

"He's okay. But, Theo bit two kids today. We need you or your husband to come in."

"We'll be there."

You quickly call Bucky and pick him up from the studio.

"Oh god. Why is he biting kids. He never did that before? Are we bad parents. I think it's my fault." Bucky rants nervously.

"Babe, we're not bad parents, and we'll talk to him. See what he was thinking. It's okay " You put your hand over Buckys thigh. Who would've thought this huge scary looking man could be so soft.

"No it's my fault because I always bite him when we're playing. This is all my fault."

Bucky is sweating so much, he wasn't even this nervous when the band played their first sold out show.

"Thank you for coming."

The meeting doesn't last that long, and when you're out of the day care, you three sit in the car.

"Well, that wasn't that bad." You say and look at Buckys scrunched up face, the one he makes when he's thinking very hard.

"Theo honey do you have anything to say?"

"Sowwy mommy, sowwy daddy." He looks down shamefully, he didn't think he was bad he was just playing.

"It's okay. Just please don't bite other kids okay? That's bad. Promise?" Bucky holds out his pinky finger waiting for Theo to do the same.

And he does.

"Good boy. I love you so much." Theo is pulled into Buckys chest and showered with kisses. He has him wrapped around his tiny finger.

"Love you trouble." You plant a kiss on top of Theo's head and drive home.

couple of months later

"Mmh, so pretty, my pretty doll." Bucky kisses you and squeezes your ass , you've been making out for last 15 minutes and he's been teasing you for even longer.

"Please, Bucky!" you beg and you suck a hickey on Buckys neck.

"MOMMA NO THAT'S BAD!" Theo screams and Bucky drops you from his hold. The kid was supposed to be asleep.

You and Bucky look at each other, luckly you're both dressed.

"What are you doing up trouble?" Bucky picks up his son and tickles his belly.

"Are you kay daddy? Mommy always bite your neck! You say it bad! But why I can no bite but mommy can?"

Ooohhh.

Bucky smirks and realises that it was you who Theo picked up biting from.

"That's right. I'm going to have to put her in time out uh?" Theo nodds proudly.

"And you too little guy you're up past your bed time." Theo looks at Bucky his eyes wide open.

"No I sleep now." He goes completely limp and starts snoring.

Bucky rolls his eyes and goes to tuck him in.

"Mommy was bad I think she deserves a punishment?" Bucky teases you and you roll your eyes.

"He picked this biting stuff from you! You're the one that biting me all the time." It's not like he's wrong, you might like to bite Bucky but it's not your fault, he just looks delicious all the time!

"He did not." you cross your arms, pouting.

"No? Well, so it's not you who bites me when we cuddle, when I cook, when I'm talking on the phone, or playing the guitar?"

You're stubborn so you shake your head a no.

"Lying is bad, doll. Gotta punish you for that too." Bucky picks you up, throws you over your shoulder and then gives your ass a slap.

There's only one person who no longer bites people and it's not you.

[the end]

likes comments and reblogs are appreciated!

if you have any questions or feedback please feel free to send them in my asks are open!

[some-pers0n]

Hey guys I rewrote that Battlewinner death scene lol. This time I decided to make Mastermind a weeee bit of a silly guy as well as make her death a bit..y'know.. No real TW or anything other than death and Bad Parenting

The ground quivered beneath Starflight's talons as he raced down the corridors, Glory, Princess Greatness, and Fatespeaker in tow. He had been in a cave his whole life, but never had one felt as alive as right now. The rocks felt hot to the touch. The walls rumbled. The distant sound of lava moving was all he could hear.  It was as though a slumbering beast was being pulled from its sleep, waking to the sight of a colony of ants nestled into it. It wants them out.

"Question," he began, "how long until the volcano erupts?"

"Erupts?" Greatness echoed. "Not for another two years. Mastermind took some calculations and predicted that the next one would be soon, but not right now. What you're feeling is just...abnormal activity. The volcano does that."

"Really? I've lived here my whole life and I've never felt something this strong," Fatespeaker said.

"We'll worry about whatever the volcano is doing later," Glory snapped. "Right now, we have a mad queen to talk to."

"I- I don't get it." Starflight slowed his pace. "Don't you have oracles? Prophets? Why did Mastermind have to guess? Wouldn't a future be more accurate? Not to doubt my father's research but..." His words trailed off. "Why? What's going on?"

Greatness turned away, staring straight ahead. "We're almost there. I can hear Mastermind."

Starflight's ears perked up. Amongst the bellows of the volcano, he could make out the faint mumblings of a scientist. They turned the sharp bend and entered into the queen's chamber.

It was a large, spacious cave, with a lake of lava in the center. Stalactites hung from the tall ceiling, embedded with a rich, deep shade of red. A deck of metal and steel was built, leaving way for Mastermind to stand upon.

But that wasn't what caught Starflight's attention the most. A cauldron of iron stood above them, with Battlewinner poking her head out of the top. Lava dripped off her as she stared them down. Next to her was Mastermind, absent-mindedly babbling and talking to her. The armour rack that he saw in his lab was with him, with all but the headpiece missing.

"– which, need I remind you, makes this completely safe. You can sort of walk, but ultimately your presence is more about your imposing lava-filled...armour– where are you looking– OH!" His eyes followed her gaze, widening as she saw the group. "Ah, hello! Starflight, my beloved protégé! I'm pleased to see that you've come to your senses and decided to turn over this band of revolutionaries. Shame to see it happen, really."

"No, dad, uhh–"

"Fools..." Battlewinner hissed. "All of you..."

"Mh-hm." Mastermind nodded his head.

"You too, scientist... If only your pride did not blind you to the truth..."

"Blind me?!" he snapped back. "Pardon me? I may be hard of sight, but I assure you that I am no fool, right Starflight? Utter brilliant genius. Oh, I'll be so proud to see you grow up. Perhaps you'll too come around to understanding your father's achievements."

Starflight winced. It was hard to hear a dragon talk like that.

"Your son is not here to help you, Mastermind," Battlewinner snarled. "He is here to stop us. All of them... They--" Ice frothed up in her throat, cutting off the words. The shards of frost melted as she took a mouthful of lava.

"What? No! Starflight would never betray us. He is a NightWing. He serves his queen, right?"

Starflight glanced at his talons. He couldn't dare to look him in the eye.

"Mother–" Greatness began, but was cut off by a sharp growl.

"Queen Battlewinner."

"– Queen Battlewinner," she continued, "I'm sorry but we must call off the attack. The RainWings are too powerful and our tribe is too weak to take them on. We cannot afford to lose any more of–"

"We will not surrender to these dragons." Battlewinner's voice boomed. Smoke coiled from her nostrils. The light of the frost in her mouth reflected in her eyes. "We are NightWings. We do not bow to any other dragon..."

Glory clicked her tongue. "Well, that's annoying. I was hoping we wouldn't have to do this the harder way." She walked forward. "Battlewinner, I come to propose an offer: you call off your invasion and, in return, I set up trading between the NightWings and RainWings. Your dragons are starving, diseased, and dying. You should be ashamed of how you've let them rot like this. I am only offering you this as I cannot let dragonets die, even after all you've done to my tribe."

She kept going. "You will also step out of this war. I am aware of how you and Mastermind have been trying to tip the scales. Leave my troop, the Dragonets of Destiny, alone. You will also step down as ruler. I see you as personally unfit to rule. You are a tyrant. You allow your dragons to suffer. Greatness is..." Glory squinted at her. "Marginally better."

"Thank you." Greatness dipped her head to her.

"If you do not comply, I will destroy the tunnels. I will not hesitate to kill any NightWing that dares enter my kingdom. I already plan on informing the other queens of your conspiracies. If you want your tribe to ever lay a claw on Pyrrhia again, take my offer. Relinquish control. Perhaps, in some years' time, you can find your way off of this island and rejoin the continent."

Silence. The rumbling of the volcano was all that remained. The caverns shook as the white noise surrounding them grew in intensity. Battlewinner's gaze remained fixated on Queen Glory. They both remained locked in this silent war.

"Bold words for a RainWing dragonet..." she said, amused. "Step aside before I drag you into the lava myself."

"No." Glory repeated. "You will comply with this offer or let your tribe die."

"You can't be serious," Mastermind spoke, half laughing. "You're just making a joke. You cannot expect something like that to work out. You? You're a dragonet! You're overly emotional. Not thinking things logically."

"Overly emotional?!" Glory snapped. "You're the ones who have been kidnapping the RainWings! Innocent dragons who were holed up in your dungeon!" Red splotches faintly appeared along her neck and frill. "If I had my way, you would be dead as you stand."

He snorted. "Ha! You truly don't understand science. Ethics and morality are mere roadblocks. Others of a more intellectual nature would understand." He shot Starflight a look. "Besides, we need the rainforest more than anyone else. As you said, it is a lush and thriving environment. What has your tribe done with it? From what I've seen, nothing! It's asinine to watch you flaunt your fruit and your peaceful lives while the NightWings have suffered for two thousand years!"

"So? Why should you have it? All you've done is lie and hurt my tribe, you murderous snake!" She spat. "We lived there! We have lived there for thousands of years! You do not deserve to wipe us out just because you feel it's necessary."

He adjusted his spectacles. "Starflight, son, you can't honestly expect this to work. You're reasonable. Come now, try and tell this RainWing some common sense. Do you honestly believe that the NightWings would accept it?"

"No, I don't." He shook his head. "Battlewinner would never agree to that."

"Precisely!" Mastermind beamed.

"So..." Starflight tapped his talons anxiously. "We can compromise? Maybe?"

"WHAT!?" Mastermind and Glory called out in unison.

"I know, I know!" He winced, waving his talons to try and calm them. "I was thinking that, because the Rainforest Kingdom has plenty of space and the NightWings are so few in numbers, we could donate a sizable amount of land to them. Have them build their own village." He turned to Battlewinner. "But, only if they accept Queen Glory as their ruler."

"Starflight, that is the worst idea I've ever heard from you--" Glory began, but was interrupted by the animalistic roar from behind.

"NO!" Queen Battlewinner screeched. She jerked around in her cauldron, spilling lava. "Never! Only I rule the NightWings!"

"Please, listen!" Starflight called out, matching her voice. "The NightWings cannot survive here anymore. Even if we set up trades, they cannot live. If we allow them to exist peacefully in the Rainforest Kingdom, we can leave the volcano behind. No more disease. No more hunger. Nothing."

"That doesn't sound like a bad idea," Princess Greatness said.

"You are a terrible heir..." Battlewinner hissed.

She paused. "I know. I never was a good queen. Queen Glory is more fit to rule than you and I both."

"Sure, yeah, but really? You want me to rule over two tribes?" Glory shook her head. "I can't do that, especially not with the tribe that has been torturing my own dragons." She glared at Mastermind.

"I think it's a bit much to call it torture," he interjected. "I only tested on them for years. Some died, sure, but they were just the weaker ones." He shrugged. "Should've been better."

"I hope that, even if you survive, your body is feasted upon by snakes and ants."

"Anywho," Mastermind continued, ignoring her threat, "I still fail to see what would happen to our queen. She has her armour."

"She won't make it," Greatness said. "She knows this. Your armour is nothing more than to prolong her life in time to see the trees. She will die either way."

He scoffed. "Preposterous! My design is flawless!"

She squinted. "I'm not too sure about that..." She shook her head. "She knows she'll die here. Buried under the rubble. It is the only option."

Battlewinner raised her claws, slamming down on the edge of the cauldron. "You will NOT speak for me!" she screeched. "It is MY kingdom! I will not allow for this!" And with that, she began to lift herself out of the vat.

"Mother, no! Please!" Greatness called out.

"Your majesty, control yourself! Your armour is not fully prepared."

Battlewinner did not listen. Her body slipped over the edge, spewing lava in all directions. Starflight jumped back as a large chunk almost hit him directly. He looked on, seeing Battlewinner's full body for the first time.

As the magma dripped off, it revealed her heavily scarred and discoloured body. Her scales were charcoal black, with burn and scratch marks dotted everywhere. Her wings were damaged, with the membrane showing a hint of blue. She was massive, but couldn't hold her own weight. The armour on her held the lava briefly, but it spilled out the instant she collapsed onto the ground.

She dug her claws into the ground, dragging herself towards Glory. Wordless threats spewed her way, little more than menacing grumbles. Yet, as she did so, she began to slow.

Then, the frost appeared.

Starting from her chest, a vibrant pale light emitted. It was inside her, in her veins. Ice formed, rapidly covering her body. Starflight heard her scales snapping and breaking as the ice pushed their way out. He could only watch in horror as her movements slowed.

Her eyes were wide, a mixture of malice, hysteria, and an utter refusal to die. A futile effort. The ice travelled up her next, encasing her entirely in it. In her final moments, she looked to Princess Greatness. Her expression was incomprehensible to Starflight, but to Greatness...

He turned to her. There was a sadness in her that he could feel even from there. Her breath was heavy and staggered. Her eyes were blinking, just barely holding back tears.

"Queen Battlewinner!" Mastermind lunged to her side. "No, no, no! You can't be! It was all perfect! Everything about my armour should've protected you! How could this be!? My calculations were perfect." His talons grazed the frost formations. "...it is fascinating to see the effects of the frostbreath in action, however. Mesmerizing."

As his eyes glazed over her, he caught a glimpse of the dragonets. "Oh, yes, you!" His snout scrunched. "In my scientific opinion, that was a STUPID IDEA!! Idiots! All of you! You've doomed our tribe!" He stood, glaring at Starflight. "I'm ashamed to see you do this, son."

A lump formed in his throat. Rejection from the dragon who understood him the most.

And, yet...he didn't care.

"So?" The word leaped from his mouth.

Mastermind blinked, squinting in disbelief. "So?" he barked back.

"So what? You're a terrible dragon! You tested on the RainWings! You never even cared about me! You just wanted to see a successor who would listen to you ramble." Built-up emotions spilled out of him all at once. "I'm ashamed for you to be my father!"

Mastermind opened his mouth, perhaps to make a snarky comeback, but a loud crack! interrupted them. It shook the whole cave. The lava boiled with more intensity. Starflight's stomach was tied into knots as the realization dawned on him.

The volcano was erupting. If they did not leave now, they would be reduced to nothing more than charred corpses buried under rubble.

[starvity]

— ☆ first snow with yujin

gn!reader x zb1 yujin

genre: fluff // warnings: nothing much beside hugs and kisses? obviously snow and mention of him attacking you with snowballs lol lmk if i forgot anything though!!

author’s note: writing winter scenarios in september surprinsgly made me feel extremely at peace and yujin... he's just so son to me. thank you for requesting and showing him lots of love!!! <3 (★ω★)/ [requested♡]

it was a peaceful morning, you could only hear the noise of fire cracking, soft steady breaths from yujin and the faint noise of your slippers on the tiled floor. you set the two cups of hot chocolate you had just made on the coffee table and debates whether you should wake up your boyfriend who looks so peaceful and cozy wrapped up in the blanket. you had started the day slowly, engaging in an early morning conversation and immediately falling back asleep on the couch. your eyes suddenly light up as you notice the first snowflakes coming down outside and you knew exactly what you were obligated to do. you tap yujin's shoulder excitedly and he frowns, turning his back to you and diving further into the pillows. "wake up sleepyhead, you're going to miss the first snow!!" you say, tapping his back multiple times.

yujin turns around slowly, his eyes slowly opening and a glimpse of playfulness and excitement appearing in his pupils. he suddenly sits up as he smells the sweet scent of chocolate, absentmindedly grabbing a cup and carefully handing it to you before grabbing his own. he takes a sip of the beverage and hums softly. he then leans down to meet you, who was now sitting on the floor enjoying the warm drink, and pecks the crown of your head as a thank you. after a few minutes, yujin puts his now empty cup down, the loud noise startling you. "hurry up, hurry up, bottoms up!!" yujin cheers, now too excited to go play outside when he notices the snow had already painted the roofs white. you chuckle at him who had already ran off to grab his shoes and jacket along with yours.

he comes back with a beanie messily put on his head, the brim slightly covering his eyes. you giggle as you take the last sips of your hot chocolate while yujin wraps his scarf tightly around your neck (you had forgotten yours at home yesterday.) he smiles as you finally get up and quickly put your puffy jacket on. the boy starts to jump impatiently as you tie your shoelaces but despite his enthusiasm he doesn't forget to check if your beanie is covering your ears well. finally, you two step outside, screams and giggles erupting as the cold hits your face. without wasting time, your menace of a boyfriend takes a pile of snow in his hand and you almost fail at dodging the snowball coming for you.

you end up chasing each other like two little kids, eagerly holding dozens of snowballs in your arms and hiding all around the house before attacking. you leave your hiding spot behind the tree and starts to run excitingly until you accidently bump into yujin and fall on the ground. yujin laughs at your state and you scream as you notice he is getting ready to jump on top of you. he takes you in his embrace, making your roll around in the snow. you end up playing in the snow a bit more, craving a few initials in the ground, making some snow castles and snow angels until he complains about how his fingers are about to fall off. you finally come back inside and change into some other warm and cozy pyjamas. and as soon as you leave the bathroom yujin tackles you back into bed, his cold nose hitting the crook of your neck and his cold hands reaching for your forearms as he snuggles closer to your back. you ended up just lazing around for the rest of the day with a hot meal and some winter movies and you swear you've never felt more at peace.

[icy-book]

You still love him, of course. It's weird how that never changes, even when what "love" means does. It didn't change when you went from Nick to Nicholas to Nicky, nor when you went child to adult to father. So why would it change now, when he went from friend to traitor? You're kidding yourself, honestly. Terry never stopped being your friend in your mind. Really, you still can't think of him as a traitor. Not while your arms still ache with the winter wind.

Arm, singular.

Traitor.

He still loves you as well. You know that for a fact, and you don't know if that makes it better or worse. This isn't the first time you've lost him, and he still loved you then.

Even though he barely recognised you. When you were someone new in his best friend's skin, but you were the same as you'd always been. He just didn't remember.

He looked at you with fear.

Resentment too, at times. Afterall, you'd mourned your parents together. Yet you got your mum back, while he lost all he had left of his dad.

And still he loved you.

Sometimes, when you first wake up, still bleary eyed, you reach for your phone to check your texts from him. Terry always gets up ridiculously early and he always sends you at least 15 texts for when you wake up around noon.

Your phone is empty.

You think about him as often as you do your son, and isn't that embarassing. You're missing Taylor's first day of elementry, middle school, high school. You're missing his birthdays and school dances and marking his height on a doorframe. But the feeling of Terry's lips against yours follows you to sleep as often as Taylor's little baby gurgles.

You can't tell if that makes you a bad father or just a pathetic idiot.

Maybe both.

Despite everything, he's still your best friend. Despite everything, you remember his laughter, and how he wiped away your tears, and the way he'd lift you up when he hugged you.

Despite everything, you still love him.

Funny, isn't it, how he can give you phantom limb syndrome twice, when he only shot your arm off once.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

From Hell to Home to Back Again

Summary: At the talent show, Chrissy Cunningham is so hungry that she nearly collapses. When she's found by Hopper, her parents ended up losing custody of her. She ends up being placed in the care of the Hendersons, and she finally finds the family she so desperately needed. She also ends up falling in love. What other changes are made in this alternate universe?

@emen-98 @1lostsoul0fishbowl @vulpixsworld

Prologue . . . Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chrissy eyes fluttered open, and she found herself looking up at the ceiling of her bedroom. How the hell did she make it out of that fight with Billy? What the hell was making that loud, obnoxious beeping sound? She slipped out of bed and pushed away the stuffed pig Eddie had gotten her before holding it for a moment. She had named her Peggy Munson, and she remembered the way that Eddie had laughed when she had named it that. Well, he really shouldn't have given Peggy a little denim vest. She wandered into the kitchen, where she saw a tall figure cooking at the stove. Benny Hammond turned around and smiled at her.

"Hey, pumpkin," Benny smiled.

"Dad," the name spilled from her lips without even thinking about it.

"You never called me that before," Benny said, turning off the stove.

"I never - I wasn't - we weren't sure if you wanted to be called that," Chrissy said.

"It's always been your choice. I was waiting for you," Benny said, placing his hands on her shoulders. "The minute you stepped into the diner with your big sad eyes and your cute pig tails, there wasn't anything that I wouldn't do for you."

"You've always been my dad. I don't care what anyone else says or what biology says. You're our dad," Chrissy cried.

Benny pulled her into his arms and held onto her tightly.

"You, Dustin, your mom. . .best damn thing that's ever happened to me," Benny said.

The beeping sound grew louder, and then she heard a familiar voice calling her name. Chrissy pulled herself out of Benny's arms.

"Eddie?" She called out.

"Chrissy, please, wake up, I don't like this. . ." Eddie's voice sobbed.

Chrissy followed Eddie's voice all the way back to her room. She was surprised to find that her bedroom had changed to a hospital room. Nestled in the hospital bed was Chrissy hooked up to several machines, a tube had been inserted in her mouth. Eddie was sitting beside her bed, looking heartbroken. He was holding Chrissy's hand and crying. It looked like he hadn't slept in days and half of his face was bruised. Wayne walked into the room, looking just as haggard.

"She wouldn't want you to do this to yourself, son. You need to eat," Wayne said.

"I'll eat when she wakes up," Eddie croaked, and she realized how cracked his lips were.

His sobs were dry as his skin. When was the last time he had water?

"Billy hit me harder than I thought he did," Chrissy said.

"Yes," Barb's voice said. "He did."

Chrissy jumped and looked to her right. In place of Benny, stood Barb.

"Am I dying?" Chrissy asked.

"Maybe," Barb shrugged. "It looks like it."

"Is this real or all in my head?" Chrissy asked.

"Can't it be both?" Barb asked.

Chrissy's eyes welled up at the sight of Barb. She missed her glasses, her hair, and the shirts she always buttoned up all the way up to her neck. She missed her judgemental but comforting presence and her funny sarcastic quips. She missed Barb.

"I'm sorry," Chrissy sobbed.

"You did everything you could for me that night, Chrissy, and you fought just as hard to save Will," Barb said. "What happened to me was out of your control. . .yours and Nancy's both. I'm glad you have each other."

"I miss you too," Chrissy said.

"A part of me will always be with you. . . .oh, that's a little cheesy, isn't it?" Barb asked, and Chrissy laughed. "It's true, though."

"Thank you for being my friend," Chrissy said softly.

"Fight for me, Chrissy," Barb pleaded. "It's not your time yet. You have to fight."

Chrissy sobbed, and she turned her attention back to Wayne's conversation with Eddie.

"I DON'T CARE ABOUT ANY OF THAT STUFF. . .I ONLY CARE ABOUT HER!" Eddie yelled. "FUCK SCHOOL!"

"Chrissy cares, and how do you think she'd feel seeing you dead at her bed when wakes up?" Wayne asked.

"She wouldn't want that," Ronnie said from the doorway.

Eddie's eyes snapped up to find her standing there, her corduroy ball cap in her hand. Her eyes were red from crying.

"Ronnie," Eddie croaked.

"I tried like hell to get away when I heard," Ronnie said. "She wouldn't want you to do this to yourself. . .she's going to need you when she wakes up."

"Everything tastes like cardboard," Eddie muttered.

"I think if Chrissy is willing to put up with your stubborn ass then I think you can do this too," Ronnie said. "She's fighting right now. You should, too."

"I don't know how she does it," Eddie whimpered.

"Come on, son, we'll be with you every step of the way," Wayne said. "She'll still be here when you get back."

"I love you, my little witch," he whispered, kissing her forehead.

Eddie stood up shakily, and Wayne was quick to help him. He wrapped his arm around his boy, and with the help of Ronnie, they walked him out of the hospital room. Chrissy stared at the chair her boyfriend had occupied for a moment and then buried her face into her hands, crying. Her entire body shook with sobs.

"You two are so great together," Barb whispered and placed a hand on her back. "You'll find each other again."

The memories of their life together flickered onto the television in the hospital room. Young Chrissy and Eddie meeting on the catwalk at the talent show. . .Chrissy seeing Eddie in the hallway in his Led Zeppelin shirt. . .Eddie slipping on the ice and into her arms. . .them calling each other witch and freak. . . Their first fight. . .dancing in his arms. . .watching him perform with Corroded Coffin for the first time. . . Him becoming friends with her friends. . . Laughing with Ronnie. . .Chrissy walking away from him with her skinned knee while he watched from the ground. . .walking out of the high school after Higgins expelled him. . .their first kiss. . . Falling sleep in his arms. . .all of those memories flickered quickly on the screen.

"I don't want it to be over yet," Chrissy cried.

"Then fight," Barb said.

Nancy came into the room, her face swollen and red. Steve came in with her, holding her hand tightly. His face was just as bad as Eddie's, and the only indication she could see that he had been crying was the sniffles he let out. Nancy took Eddie's spot and took Chrissy's hand.

"Please. . .we lost Benny. . . We lost Bob. . .and Barb. . .we can't lose you too. You're my best friend, Chrissy. Please, don't go," Nancy sobbed. "You have to wake up."

All of her memories flashed up on the television. . .all of her times with her friends and family. Nancy joining the squad for a brief moment, and Chrissy being welcomed into her friendship with Barb. All the slumber parties they had. Nancy crawling into her bed after Barb died. Chrissy could only watch. As badly as she wanted to, she couldn't hug her. Nancy held her hand tightly as she cried over Chrissy's body before standing up and falling into Steve’s arms. They clung to each other tightly as they both cried, burrowing their faces into each other's neck. Her heart nearly shattered when her mother and brother came into the room after them. Claudia was sobbing hysterically, with Dustin clinging to her.

"My baby!" Claudia cried.

It was the only thing she could say as Dustin led her into the chair. It was hard enough on her when Benny died, and then when Mews went missing. . .how would she handle this? They couldn't lose her either.

"We got a new cat. She's white and her name is Tews. You're going to love her," Dustin sniffled.

Another memory appeared. Chrissy was walking into the house for the first time, an 8 year old grinning Dustin eagerly waiting at the door with their mother. . .Mews brushed up against her leg as Claudia put her arm around her. The first time Dustin put up the fort. . .then the second time when Claudia made them all hot cocoa and Dustin wanted Claudia to join them. He had tugged on her arm so hard that he nearly knocked over the fort. Another memory popped up of Dustin and Chrissy sword fighting with sticks in the backyard. Claudia laughed and cheered them on while Mews sat on her lap, looking bored. All those talks with her mother. . .coming out to her. . .to both of them and the midnight conversation with her mother when she decided to end her relationship with Heather. All those talks with her mother were always with hot cocoa, a listening ear, and a warm hug.

"I want to go home," Chrissy cried.

Suddenly, her hospital room disappeared, and she was walking down the hallway to the waiting room. Jonathan and Argyle were leaning on each other. Chrissy hated seeing them cry. Dustin was hugging Steve and Eddie rather tightly while Nancy rubbed his back. Robin didn't care what it looked like. She was enveloped in Ronnie's arms tightly, letting her girlfriend press kisses into her hair. Ted stood awkwardly next to Karen as Karen rubbed Robin's back. Mike and Lucas sat next to each other, sniffling while Will set on Mike's other side. Max was next to Lucas, looking sad but also guilty, and she nervously picked at the thread on her pants.

"You should know that Billy was arrested for assault," Barb said. "But it looks like he might not get a whole lot of time served, especially since he's relying heavily on the fact he claims he was looking out for his sister. He's probably going to be out before the end of the year, maybe even less."

"That's bullshit! He doesn't give two shits about her!" Chrissy exclaimed.

"Yeah, but they're eating it up," Barb said. "His arrest, though, it's not making Max's homelife any easier."

"What do you mean?" Chrissy asked.

Suddenly, a furious looking man with short brown hair and a mustache came marching into the waiting room. A woman who looked a lot like Max stood meekly behind him.

"Come on, Maxine, your mother wants you home," he said.

"I'm staying here," Max said, standing up.

"Your brother protected you from these people," Neil Hargrove hissed. "Sitting here with them doesn't make him look good. I am your father and you're going to listen to me! Get your ass in the car!"

"Billy's a monster!" Max yelled. "I don't want to be a monster like him or like you!"

"Max!" Susan yelled.

"No! Mom, I've seen the way he treats you! I've seen the way he treats Billy. Now that Billy's out of the house, you know he's coming after me next! Neil. . .Billy, they're both pieces of shit!" Max yelled.

Neil's hand came flying, with the loud slapping sound following as his hand hit its target, and Max was on the floor, clutching her face. Everyone jumped all at once, and a nurse came running in. Jonathan and Argyle moved in front of Max along with the others. Mike, Dustin, and Lucas surround Max on the floor. She wasn't sure which one of them would swing first: Steve, Eddie, Jonathan, Argyle, or Nancy. The answer came in the form of Ted Wheeler. Quiet Ted Wheeler, who never raised his voice to anyone. Suddenly, he was grabbing Neil and swinging his fist into his face. When did he take off his glasses? The next thing Chrissy knew, they were both on the ground and hitting each other. Susan was screaming and trying to get Ted to stop. Meanwhile, her daughter was crying in Karen's arms while her split lip was being tended to by the nurse. A thunder of footsteps sounded down the hallway. Suddenly, Hopper, Joyce, and Wayne appeared in the doorway. Wayne and Hopper had to pry Neil off of Ted with the help of Steve.

"What the hell is going on here?" Hopper asked.

A moment later, the scene changed, and she was back in the hospital room. Max timidly walked into the room. Her eyes were red, and her lip was swollen.

"I'm sorry. . .this is all my fault. If I hadn't been there, Billy wouldn't have come looking for me. They all love you so much," Max said, sniffling. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," Chrissy said and frowned when she heard another voice speak at the same time.

She looked at the doorway and watched as Mike walked into the room.

"You're not responsible for what those mouth breathers do," Mike said. "They were responsible for you, but they failed you. They hurt you, and Billy hurt Chrissy."

"This is supposed to be a private conversation," Max rolled her eyes.

"I heard my dad and mom talking," Mike asked. "They want to give you a place to stay."

"They don't want me," Max mumbled.

"They wouldn't have said it if they didn't mean it," he said.

"So, what? I'd be like your sister?" She asked.

"It'd be cool to have a zoomer for a sister," Mike said, smiling for a moment before letting it fall. "I'm sorry for being an asshole and lashing out at you. You didn't deserve it."

"No, I didn't, but I get it. You thought El was dead, and I was trying to replace her," Max said. "I know what it's like when you don't know how to feel, and sometimes you just want to scream at the world."

"I don't want to turn into them either," Mike said softly.

"Yeah," Max said. "Don't tell anyone what I'm about to do. . .it's not like they're going to believe you, anyway."

Max walked over to Mike and hugged him tightly. He was surprised for a moment before hugging her back. It was a quick hug, but it was enough. Mike reached over and took Chrissy's hand.

"Please, wake up. We all want you to wake up," Mike whispered. "You're our friend too."

"Mike. . ." Max said softly, and he turned to her. "No one's ever done that before. . .fought for me like that."

"I've never seen my dad do that before, but it's kind of what we do in the family," Mike said. "You're worth it."

Mike walked out with Max, but not without looking over his shoulder one more time. It was quiet for a long time until Benny was next to her again.

"Poor kid, but it looks like she's going to get a better life just like you," Benny said.

"I'm glad even if it took me being put into a coma to do it," Chrissy said.

Benny put his arm around her and kissed the crown of her head. A moment later, a tired looking Hopper came in. He took his hat off and placed it on the table with a book he brought. He sat down in the chair and took Chrissy's hand in his. Chrissy frowned. Being back in the hospital and seeing her like this must be bringing back memories of Sarah. Hopper cleared his throat as he opened his mouth to speak, but the words became lost as he choked. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

"I can't - I can't do this again. Don't make me lose another kid. . .you have to fight," Hopper said.

Taking his hand out of hers, he brushed back her bangs and kissed her forehead. He cleared his throat again and wiped his eyes. He picked up the book: Anne of Green Gables. Hopper opened it and began to read. Chrissy smiled a watery smile.

"This is why this man is my best friend," Benny said.

Not long after that, she watched friend after friend filtering through the room. Robin was supported by Ronnie, and she was a completely incoherent mess. The next person who came through was Heather, who didn't say anything. All she could do was cry and hold Chrissy's hand. After Heather, Jeff came in with Gareth and Dougie. Chrissy looked surprised. Dougie came down to see her, too? Gareth's face was soft and round, a baby face that reminded her of her brother. He always tried to disguise it with a scowl, but this time, he looked soft and extremely sad. They were all pleading with her to wake up.

"They all act like I have a choice," Chrissy sobbed.

"Pumpkin, you do have a choice," Benny said. "You can stay here in this dreamworld, or you can back out there and fight."

Benny led Chrissy to the living room and towards the front door. Suddenly, a shadowy figure blocked the doorway.

"Chrissy. . . "

"You don't touch her!" Benny yelled and threw himself at the figure. "Chrissy! GO! Tell your brother and your mother that I love them!"

The front door swung open, and light flooded through the house. Chrissy ran through the doorway, and the bright light light enveloped her. Suddenly, it felt like she was floating for a moment, and then she realized she was lying in a hospital bed. Something was in her throat. Chrissy began gagging, and a doctor was above her, pulling the tube out of her throat. They spent quite a while checking her over before bringing her mother and brother into the room. Claudia wept at the sight of Chrissy and began pressing kisses into her hair before kissing her face as well.

"My baby!" She gasped happily.

"Never scare us like this again," Dustin said and threw himself on top of her.

"I'll try my best," Chrissy croaked as she hugged Dustin. "I saw Benny. He loves us. Best damn thing that ever happened to him."

"He would say something like that," Claudia said with a watery smile.

"That's our dad," Dustin said.

"Yeah," Chrissy said, smiling.

Chrissy peaked over Dustin's shoulder to see a figure leaning against the doorway. Eddie was clutching Peggy. His bruises were very faded. . .almost healed, in fact. How long had she been asleep? His face had more hair on it, and while he did look like he was drinking more water, there were bags under his eyes. He looked so rough.

"Edward Wayne, get over here," Claudia sniffled.

Eddie shuffled over to her and let Claudia hug him. Dustin moved off of Chrissy to let him do the same. He moved closer to Chrissy's bed.

"You're awake," he croaked and burst into tears.

Chrissy moved over to make room on the bed for him.

"Come here," Chrissy said, and Eddie gave her a skeptical look. "Eddie, my love, you're not going to break me."

Eddie laid carefully on the bed and curled around, holding her tightly.

"I missed you," Eddie said as Claudia and Dustin walked out of the room.

"They're so getting married!" Dustin exclaimed.

"Dusty! Hush!" Claudia exclaimed, but Chrissy could see that her mother was smiling.

"I missed you too. I'm here now," Chrissy said. "We'll always find our way back to each other. Always."

Chrissy began to rub his back as she began to sing. She felt him relax and she smiled when she heard him start to snore. He could finally sleep.

"Oh, Eddie, Eddie, I love you so

Eddie my love

Oh, Eddie, Eddie, I love you so

Eddie, my love, I love you so. . . My freak."

Chapter Twenty-Three