#how is that steaming hot pile of shit back already

[prael]

REPLACED

Newjeans Minji x male reader smut

Quickfire challenge 1. Thank you @midnightdancingsol

The prompt: "You know why this happened, @capslocked – yes, you."

Masterlist word count: 3,911 Kofi(donations/commissions)

It's all a matter of perspective. From one side of the room, the world is calm.

And the other? Well, that's Minji.

“Want to know the one thing worse than outright rejection?”

Minji has barely walked in the door and she is already shouting off in riddles. She's standing in the doorway, her hair wet from the rain and a little bit tangled just above her shoulders. The water on her overshirt is so deeply sodden into the fabric that it weighs on her. It sticks to her skin that's so clearly visible underneath the LED spotlight above her and her face is twisted in this way of pure irritation that you've rarely seen. It's almost comical.

Or it would be if she wasn't throwing her bag on the floor with an almighty thud and a little yelp from the floorboards below.

“Minji?” is all you say in some hushed tone as you sit on the armchair by the window, hot drink in one hand and your phone in the other as the world passes by in the distance, drowned in downpour.

You look up to watch Minji as she shouts, "How about getting a part, only for it to be taken away? Being promised the world and then having it rug-pulled so you fall flat on your fucking face?!"

Now, Minji never swears in anger. And never means never (again, in anger, specifically). So, it's pretty much a sign of the end of the world when she does. She's kicking off her shoes now, throwing them in the direction of the door and they clatter on the floor like the battering of a drum.

"I—uh."

"You—uh," she mocks, taking a step forward.

"Woah. Minji. What happened?" You ask, setting down the phone on the sill of the window. Minji's stomping her way toward you. Her eyes are wide and filled with something you haven't quite seen before.

"This complete—"there are some sounds from her mouth but they don’t quite resemble words"—shit for a fuck brain!" See, Minji never swears like this, so she's so bad at it that it's laughable.

"That bad, huh?"

"Oh, it's a great idea; an amazing concept. I'll write you a fantastic character and it will be romantic and hot and everyone will love it," Minji rants in some sarcastic tone while peeling her shirt off her skin and piling it onto the hardwood floor. She stands in only her sports bra with her arms raised and her voice in high pitch, mocking. "Except, you're not good enough. Oh, no. I have to give the part to this other girl. She's prettier and nicer and just better than you!"

"Ouch." You say, watching as she flops onto the couch opposite. The coffee table in between you is a lousy line of defence. Her socks have little splatters of rainwater on them and not too far above that, her skirt sits just above the knee.

"Oh, shut up," she replies.

"Minji." You throw her a look that says 'Stop taking it out on me', which she understands, but it only gets her to fold her arms dramatically with a little huff and a puff from her mouth, followed by a pout. Then you ask her, "What part even was this? TV?"

"Not exactly."

"An ad? Video game? Movie?"

"Fanfiction."

Fanfiction.

"What?" You blink, to which Minji sighs and rolls her eyes, head tilted to the ground.

"Fanfiction."

"A fanfiction?" you question again. It’s not like you misheard, it’s just an utterly strange thing for her to be so pent up on.

"Don't say it like that." She snaps, leaning back into the chair and crossing her legs so one of her little rain-splattered socks is suspended in the air, and she twists and turns her foot impatiently.

"Just trying to figure out why you're so annoyed about fanfiction."

"Because the guy's a complete moron."

"Probably," you say, drawing your mug of coffee close to your lips. You blow on the surface and Minji is silent. You wait, the steam is coming off the top and through it, you watch her as she thinks as her eyebrows furrow together. Minji shifts in her seat again, the annoyance making her chronically uncomfortable. 

"He replaced me!" She shouts, slamming her hands into the arms of the chair and then Minji stands. She takes a few steps and then stops and turns to face you, her eyebrows furrowed and her arms folded, her legs are slightly apart and she's tapping her foot.

"Does he think I'm not pretty enough? Not funny enough? Not sexy enough? Does he think that I wouldn't be good enough at what he wants me to do, hm? So he doesn't want to write me sucking a dick? Well, screw him. Fucking Capslocked."

You're not sure what's going on here, so you're just sitting back and watching her, coffee nestled in your hand and feet propped on the table. She's standing still, waiting for you to say something, anything, and when you don't, she begins to pace.

"Why would he change his mind and just decide that someone else is better than me? What, does he not like my body? Do you not like my body?"

"Your body is fantastic." You say, taking another sip of the coffee.

"Yeah, and don't you forget it." She snaps, stopping again and placing her hands on her hips, either side of that exposed waistline.

"The fuck kind of name is 'Capslocked' anyway?" You mutter, mostly to yourself. Minji doesn't reply, but you see her take a step closer to you.

"And," Minji begins and then pauses, you look up at her and she's just staring. Her cheeks are flushed and her breathing is a little laboured, her chest rising and falling with each breath. There's a pause. Her tongue runs over her lips and you can see her thinking—gears grinding inside her head.

"And?" you ask.

"Shut up," she hisses, kicking your leg so your feet fall from the coffee table and you almost spill the drink down yourself. She places her hands on your knees, bending over to you.

"Minji, my drink—"

"Shh." her hair falls across her face, a black silk drape half-covering the expression beneath. There's an anger under there, something she's trying to push back down, but it's not quite working. Her nails dig into your thighs as she pushes them apart, and the steam rises again above the surface of the liquid in your cup. Minji is too busy running her hand along your crotch.

"What're you—"

"Replaced me," she repeats to herself, a little huff leaving her as she slips down onto her knees. "Fucking replaced me."

"Minji, I'm sure he—"

"I don't care. Shut up. I'm not talking to you." Her hands are shaking, whether from frustration or some other confused feeling that burns under her skin. Probably a mix of many feelings. They're fumbling at the button of your jeans and she's tugging down the zip, her teeth bared. You're watching, and it's as if she is possessed.

Your heartbeat is thunderous in your ears, the heat is rising and Minji is pushing her hair out of her face.

"I'm gonna do this so well."

"You always do."

"I said stop talking. So. Stop. Talking," she sounds out each word with authority, her eyes wide and angry. Minji is pushing down the fabric and reaching into the opening in your underwear. She wraps her fingers around you, the cool touch of her skin making you jerk.

"Minji, my drink." Your hand trembles slightly as you try not to spill it. Minji doesn't listen. She pulls you free. A low hum leaves her throat as she licks her lips and leans forward. Her warm breath is ghosting over you, her eyes are closed and there's a little smirk on her lips. Your cock is only halfway to hard and her hand is wantingly trying to coax you into arousal.

It doesn't take much. It never does with Minji.

"Fuck," you groan, the sound of your voice making her look up.

"Don't," she replies, a warning in her eyes. Minji's hand is moving up and down and it's not with that same gentle caress she usually has.

"God, Minji."

"Quiet." She stops, her lips are pouted and her eyes are locked onto you. Her hand is around you, the pressure is gentle, but it's enough to hold you. You're frozen there a moment, her eyes are staring right through you and you're not entirely sure what's going to happen. "Don't say a word, and don’t spill your drink,” she tells you, her free hand rubbing your thigh.

"Minji—"

"Don't." She whispers, her tongue licking over the surface of her lip. Her mouth opens, and she's leaning in. The warmth of her breath is making the muscles of your abdomen twitch and your head spin. Her tongue is the first thing that touches you. She's holding you still, and the head of your cock is resting on her bottom lip, and the feeling of the smooth surface makes you want to thrust forward, but Minji's hand holds you firm.

You bite your lip as Minji's tongue swirls around the tip. It's light and soft and sends electricity through your nerves. You groan ever so slightly and she looks up at you, her eyes narrowed. Your knuckles whiten as you grip the mug, her hair tickling the inside of your thigh as she lowers her head.

Her tongue runs along the underside and pastes your cock with a wetness. The hand around you moves down, and she takes you in. Her mouth is heaven, and her lips the closing gates. You let out a deep sigh, your chest heaving, and Minji's free hand slides up the inside of your shirt, her nails grazing your skin.

Her mouth moves, her lips tightening, and the movement is slow. It's torturous and the sensation of her tongue swirling around the underside of your cock sends you spiralling. Minji knows this, and she's looking up at you. You want to touch her; you want to tangle your fingers into her hair; you want to grab her and pull her against you.

But her eyes speak many words left unspoken. They command your stillness, your silence, and your complete submission.

Minji is working her mouth over you, and her hand is stroking you, up and down and up and down. She's bobbing her head and humming slightly. The melody is almost hypnotic but sounds as if being played by force rather than elegance.

Her scratches are harder than ever and it feels like fire across your chest. Your toes are curling and your head is thrown back. The heat from the mug permeates into your skin as you grip it tighter.

"Ah, Minji." You moan. Minji stops, looking up at you. There's a drop of spit on her lip, and her face is flushed. You're not sure what to do. She's glaring, and she's holding you. Your heart is beating like the hammer of a drum and just above it, her nails grip, threatening to pierce through flesh.

"I said quiet." Words laced with venom. She digs somehow deeper into your chest as she pushes herself to her feet. "Now, I'm going to fuck you. I'm going to fuck you until I scream and you're going to stay quiet."

You're not quite sure what's happening. This is a Minji you have seldom seen before, but it's all happening so fast. She's pulling up her skirt, sliding down her panties, and she's kicking them off so the fabric lands somewhere to the side. She's stepping forward and her knees are touching the armrests. Closer and closer she comes with her eyes fixed on you. 

Your mouth is dry, and her fingers are on your jaw. Her eyes bore holes in your own and she's lowering herself. In a moment of weakness, you throw a glance at your hand, still holding the half-full cup. There's an angry sound from Minji and she snarls, "Focus on me."

Minji swipes her arm at the cup, sending it flying. You watch the arc of the cup and the contents spill across the floor. She's not waiting, she's not looking. There’s not an ounce of concern within her for something so trivial.

You feel the soft wetness of her sex on your tip, she's rubbing herself on the head, the moisture spreading along the underside and Minji's face is screwed up in pleasure and her legs are shaking. She's panting and moaning and she's trying to slide down.

"Minji, are you—"

She thrusts her hand over your mouth with a growl and wild eyes. Her nails are biting into your cheek. "Not. Another. Word."

Minji's other hand is on your shoulder; using it for balance as she tries to move herself. She's lowering herself down and the head of your cock slips into her.

She's so warm. So unbelievably wet. Minji gasps and her back arches and her breasts heave beneath her slightly see-through sports top as she breathes. Her nails dig deeper into your flesh, her lips are parted and her head is thrown back, leaving her throat exposed—a pale expanse of milky perfection.

"Oh, God," she moans, the sound reverberating around the room as she slowly sinks and the walls of her cunt are tight on you. So tight. She trembles as she speaks. "You can't replace this."

Her skirt is around her waist, the material covering the sight of where your bodies meet. But you can feel it; you can feel every little movement she makes.

"I'm so wet."

So fucking wet.

"You're so hard."

Hard. So hard.

"How could anyone replace this?"

How? How could you possibly replace this?

Her cries are shrill, and the heat of her is all around you. It's the only thing you can focus on—her. You try to answer, but your words never make it past the hand on your mouth. She's panting, and her hair is wild, her eyes wide and her mouth open. And she's just riding until she can't no more. Until her muscles grow weak and until her cum leaks between her legs.

"This is what they want, isn't it? They want to fuck me. Riding them. On my knees. They want me bent over the table, or against the wall, or—or—fuck!" Her words are sharp and punctuated with gasps and moans. "Want me to cum—" she trails off into something close to a scream, her body convulsing. Her back is arched and her hips are pressed down onto yours.

She's grinding into you, and you can feel her clench around your cock. Your head is swimming, and your hips are jerking. You can't breathe. Her fingers are loosening their hold on your mouth, but you dare not speak. You're not even sure if you can.

Minji's hand is moving, sliding down your cheek, around your jaw and then gripping on your neck. She admires the red claw marks on your cheek.

"That's right," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "They want to fuck me, don't they? They all read and write those filthy little stories and keep dreaming of the impossible. But that fucker won’t write it for them."

You can only sit and take in the way that she is glowing with the sweat, the light catching her skin and highlighting the contours of her face and her collarbone. Her small top clings to her sticky chest and leaves so very little to the imagination. Through it you see the smooth curve of her breasts, the stiffness of her nipples and below it the ridges of her toned abdomen that flexes with her slowing grind.

She's climbing off you now and pulling you up from your seat. Her arms are around your neck and her eyes are on yours. You're staring into the depth of her eyes, the black pupils large and the irises a warm, golden honey.

"You're not going to replace me, are you?"

"Never."

"Good."

She leans back a little and pulls your shirt up until it's around your neck. She pulls it to your mouth, feeding the fabric into it before tying some sort of makeshift knot behind your head. "Now. Not another word." Minji pulls off her own top, peeling it away from her sweat-soaked skin.

You watch as she takes a few steps back; her cotton-hugged feet on the ground, her skirt falling back over those long legs and her hands on the hem of the fabric. She's smiling at you, a wide and wicked grin. You watch her and she's watching you. She's pulling it up now and her hands are underneath it. She turns to the window. "Now you're going to pin me against this window and do me, aren't you? Nod if you are."

You nod.

Minji giggles, throwing a look over her shoulder. "I'm the best, aren't I?" 

Minji doesn't wait for you to nod again. She turns away and looks out the window—the city is alive. The rain is falling; the lights are flickering and cars are passing by far below. Minji is leaning her forehead against the glass, her eyes closed and her mouth slightly agape. Her hair is wild and messy and the light is illuminating her.

You're stepping towards her, one hand on her back, the other sliding over the curve of her ass. You can see her reflection, the smile on her lips. Her hands are on the glass, palms flat, and you're sliding a hand between her legs and over her wet, sensitive skin.

She's shivering and letting out little gasps as your fingers dance along the flesh and your fingertips tease her folds. She's whimpering, and the sound makes your cock twitch.

"Fuck me," Minji whispers, her nails scratching the window. You can't deny a woman so insatiable.

You adjust your jaw; it's so uncomfortably pinned open and you're unable to say a word. You can't tell her just how nice that ass is and how the view inside the window makes a mockery of the one outside. You can't tell her how her hair is so beautiful, or how her eyes are the prettiest you've ever seen. You can't tell her anything.

But you can tell her in another way—through touch. The thought sends a chill down your spine and your teeth sink into the material of the shirt. Minji's whining and you're slipping your fingers between her lips. She's hot, and the heat is dripping from her. It's on your fingers and it's soaking into your palm.

Minji is moving her hips, trying to find purchase on your fingers, the tip of one brushing her clit. She gasps and throws her head back. You're sliding a finger inside her, the movement easy and Minji is bucking her hips, her body trying to pull you further and deeper.

"Fuck me like I'm the only woman in the world. Like you'll die if you don't fuck me. Like there's no one else in the world who can make you feel like I do."

You're pushing her against the window, the foggy condensation from her breath and the heat of her body mar the surface. Minji is laughing—the hot and breathy kind of laugh—as you press her into the glass.

"That's it. Come on. Fuck me now,” she orders and just like that, you're doing it. She's moaning and her back arches. You're inside her and the tightness is enough to make you come undone. You're pressing her harder and harder against the window.

"That's it. Oh, yes. Harder. That's what they all want."

You're slamming into her, and she's taking it. You're not holding back. Minji is moaning and her fingers are curling, nails raking. Her voice is echoing in the room and the sound makes your skin prickle.

"They all want me like this. Bent over and begging. Oh, fuck yes."

"They can't have you." You growl through the shirt, your teeth tearing into the fabric.

"No." Minji screams, "They can't have me. They can't touch me. He can't touch me. Won't even write about me. If only he could see me now. I bet he would change his mind. Wouldn't you?"

You fuck her until the muscles in the back of your legs stiffen. You fuck her until she's screaming. You fuck her until the glass is a mess of fingerprints, sweat, and spit. Until the golden skin of her back glows with moisture.

You fuck her until your vision starts to fade and your heartbeat is so loud in your ears that it’s unbearable. You fuck her until you can't anymore.

And she's still going, her screams echoing and her body writhing against yours, and it's all too much. You need to release, and it needs to be inside Minji.

You're coming undone and your hips jerk and stutter and Minji's body is convulsing. Your cum is spilling into her, and she's cumming again and she's screaming, the sound so shrill that it hurts. You're groaning and she's shaking, the walls of her cunt clenching and drawing your orgasm out until you can't think and you can't breathe and everything is both too much and not enough.

Leaning forward so her back is flush with your chest, and she is truly pinned. Your breathing is hard, and hers is heavy and the two of you stay there for a while, frozen in ecstasy. The room absorbs the sound of your combined pants, the rain and the distant hum of the city.

Minji is the first to move, twisting herself free from the weight of your body against her. Your cock slides out. The feeling of the cool air and the absence of her body sends a shiver through you. You stumble, the shirt falling from your mouth and your vision is blurry.

Minji is laughing and you're looking at her as she is plucking away the strands of hair which stick to her face. And when she finishes, Minji steps forward and slaps you. "I told you not to make a mess."

"Minji, you made the mess."

"Shut up."

"But I—"

She grabs you by the neck and kisses you. Her lips are hot and the kiss is hungry and messy. Her tongue is in your mouth and her hands are all over you. The kiss is hard and deep and it's leaving you breathless.

She's pulling you to the ground, her legs wrapping around you and your hand is on her thigh. The heat of her core is against you and her nails are digging into your back. She's biting your lip, and she's pushing you over onto your back.

She's straddling you. Her hands are on your chest, her palms pressing down.

"What the hell has gotten into you?" you pant. Minji's looking at you with a disregard for your words.

Your cock is so tender under her rough motions, and there’s no stopping your whimper. Minji is smiling, and the sight is so sweet. "Are you complaining?"

"No," you manage to say, as a shiver runs down your spine as she lowers herself and brushes her lips against your ear.

Her tongue is running over your earlobe and she's nibbling at the sensitive flesh. Her hands are on your shoulders and her legs are squeezing your waist. "Good boy. We're not done. Not even close."

[katsukistofu]

PLEASE (if you feel like it) WRITE FOR AIZAWA! A SICK READER TROPE MAYBE?

Btw ur fics are so good and are part of the reason why I’ve gotten back into mha <333 I love ur writing style sm and ur hawks fics??? That was amazing

hi my love! thank you so much omg that’s so sweet, i’m happy i helped you rekindle your love for mha again lol! <3

sick (but never of you)

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ s. aizawa x fem reader. fluff. cursing. 997 words ★ your husband insists on taking care of you when you fall ill, despite your protests.

Not this shit again. 

You groan as your eyes flutter open for the second time after you said you were fine, then proceeded to dramatically faint in Shota’s arms in the middle of your patrol and sit up, hurriedly tossing the pile of soft blankets off your body.

You shiver despite the warmth radiating from the heater nearby. Shota must have brought it out for you after getting you home.

“What do you think you’re doing?” 

The disapproving voice of your husband floats over, and there he is, leaning on the doorway with a steaming bowl of something in his hands. You perk up despite yourself. Miso soup? 

“I don’t have time to sleep off a little cold, Shota!” Your arms tremble as you try to force yourself off of the plush king-sized bed. “It’s already past nine, I have to head to the agency.”

“Don’t care, didn’t ask.” Shota wraps his arms around you to trap you in place, ignoring your insistent budging. “You’re staying home today with the cat.”

“But—But they need me…” You weakly mumble in his firm grip. It was no use trying to break free, and you’re not sure if you even want to anymore with how nice he feels against you.

“And I need you here.” His stern gaze doesn’t waver, and his hand guides your head from the back of your hair, which you’re certain looks like a disaster zone right now, to rest on his chest. “It’s my job to make sure you’re safe, happy and healthy.”

Shota brushes a hair from your face and tucks it behind your ear. The little beads of sweat on your skin don’t bother him in the slightest.

“So let me do my job.”

“Are you using your teacher voice on me?” You grumble into the dark fabric of his sleeveless shirt. He smells warm and like all things good, as if he just came out of the shower. 

“I vaguely recall someone commenting that it was ‘hot.” Shota’s gravelly voice teases your ear and his stubble tickles your cheek as he smirks, knowing he’s won the battle when he finally feels you melt in defeat against him. 

He brushes a soft kiss to your forehead. “Stay in bed, sweetheart, I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.” You say in a tiny voice, weakly slumping back into the sheets. 

Shota comes back with a spoon and a folded piece of paper. A hint of a smile tugs at his lips as he holds it out to you.

“Looks like I’m not the only one that wants you to stay home.”

Your eyes widen as you look at the get-well card in your hands.

feel beter soon!! lots of loove, eri it said, with millions of tiny hearts doodled around your name. You choke back a sob as your eyes fall onto the little stick figure drawings of you pushing the little gray-haired girl on a swing set. 

It looked just like the one from the playground nearby that you would often take her to on your days off.

us when youre not sick anymor! :D

“Shota, give me that damn soup.”

He chuckles deeply and scoots closer on the bed to feed you. You squeeze your eyes shut as a sharp throb suddenly pierces through your head.

“The room’s spinning again, that’s not normal is it?”

“No. No, it’s not.” Shota’s forehead creases in concern, bringing the spoon of warm soupy goodness up to your lips while his other hand holds yours.

You part your lips to drink it, letting the rich, comforting flavor of miso spread across your tongue.

Letting out a little sigh of relief, you’re about to lean back before Shota sets the bowl down on the nightstand to prop up the pillows behind you, making sure you’re comfortable before he picks it back up again and holds up another spoonful to your mouth.

“Come on, one more for me sweetheart.” 

“Not hungry anymore,” you huff, turning your head away from his outstretched hand.

He lifts an eyebrow. 

“We can cuddle after you take your medicine.”

“...Can you rub my tummy too?”

“You know I will.”

You sniffle and reluctantly open your mouth to sip a spoonful of the soup once again.

“Atta girl.” Shota smooths a kiss on your forehead, rubbing circles against the back of your hand. 

He reaches over to the nightstand to grab your medicine he picked up from the local pharmacy earlier, and hands a small cup of what he pours to you. 

You grimace at its cherry-colored contents and tilt your head back to drink it in one go like a shot.

“Good job. Now come lay on me.” He didn’t need to ask you twice, but Shota’s hands are already on your waist to gently flip you over him as he takes your previous position on the bed, setting you down to rest your head on your usual spot on his chest.

He strokes your hair gently, arm snug against your back while he presses you to him. “How are you feeling?”

“A little bit better,” you mumble, absentmindedly tracing the outline of his abs under his shirt. It's always been soothing to you.

Shota’s chest rumbles as he lets out a husky laugh. “Are you just saying that so you can keep tracing my abs?”

“Maybe.” You giggle against him, which turns into a cough and he firmly pats your back. His hand slides under your pajamas to rub gentle circles on your tummy like he promised. You softly squeal at the ticklish feeling of his hard-earned callouses against your skin, and Shota tenderly kisses your cheek once, twice.

All your senses are numb, but you can still feel the overflowing love behind them.

“Go to sleep, sweet girl. I got you,” he murmurs into your hair.

“Okay.” You comply easily this time, nuzzling deeper into his chest. “Goodnight, Shota.”

“Goodnight, angel. Love you.”

“Love you too,” you mumble before drifting off to sleep in the safety of his warm arms.

Maybe being sick wasn’t all bad.

[transmascsteveharrington]

Growing up, food is always a bit of a sore spot for Eddie. Of course, Wayne does his best to make sure that Eddie never goes to bed with an empty stomach, but growing boys need lots of fuel. And while there always is food, there often isn’t much food. But it’s fine, Eddie knows Wayne is trying so hard, picking up all the extra shifts he can. Eddie would never hold it against his uncle, he knows how much Wayne already frets. And even though Eddie’s stomach growls every now and then, he learns to ignore it. Learns how not to be hungry.

While other kids experiment what herbs might go best with pasta sauce and how to caramelize sugar without burning it, Eddie tries to find out how to water down soup and stretch stew for days. Figures out how to make rice with beans still taste good on day five. Hunts down coupons and keeps an eye out for discounts so they can have hot dogs on the fourth of july and candy on Halloween. Food is never really pleasure or indulgence. Only something neither he nor Wayne try to worry about. Some days it’s easier than others.

It’s not really until after the upside down, after he has been discharged from the hospital and off the murder accusations, not until Steve that food becomes more than just another annoyingly human need. Thanks to the government hush money and Eddie picking up a mechanic jobat the local garage they don’t need to worry about food anymore. 

But it’s still just means to an end, there is no luxuriating in it, no big cravings, Eddie still cuts out coupons. Steve offers them to host Hellfire at his house and Eddie offers to buy snacks. It’s the least he can do if Steve is letting them into his mansion. But Steve declines, says he’ll take care of it. And he does. 

When Eddie and the rest of Hellfire show up the dining room table (Steve has a dining room Jesus H. Christ) is filled with all kinds of snacks. It’s everyone’s favorite kinds of snack. And not the store brand knock off snacks, no, it’s the real fancy shit. Or well as fancy as pringles and mountain dew can be. But it doesn’t stop there. 

Once the game is over, the kids help clean up, but none of them rush to get their shoes back on or slip into their jackets. Instead, they pile into the kitchen, dragging Eddie and the older kids of Hellfire with them where Steve is already handing them steaming plates of lasagna. 

“You running a soup kitchen, Harrington?” Eddie can’t help but tease as a  plate is pressed into his hands. 

There is a blush creeping over Steve’s face and Eddie instantly regrets his comment. It’s just the snacks, the dinner, it kinda makes him feel inadequate, like he was bad at hosting Hellfire because he never brought snacks let alone dinner.

It takes Eddie a while to understand that Steve doesn’t do it to show off, but simply because he enjoys cooking. He always provides snacks when they are at his house, be it Hellfire, movie night, or pool parties. There is always home cooked food and often even homemade dessert too. The day he bakes a bunch of lemon meringue cookies is a horrible day because those cookies are to die or fall madly in love for and Eddie can feel his stomach swoop. He ignores it like he has ignored all his cravings over the years. And it works for a while.

Until one golden autumn afternoon when Eddie is early and the kids are still at school. Eddie offers to drive around the block a couple of times, but Steve just laughs, tells Eddie not to be stupid. He leads Eddie into the kitchen and motions for him to sit on the counter.  Talks about how he likes company while cooking. The radio in the corner of the kitchen blares pop music loudly and Steve turns it down, no need for it to longer fill the oppressive silence. Eddie hops on the counter, dangles his legs and watches Steve cook. It’s so obviousthat he loves doing it. The way he hums quietly, sautees onions and garlic, stirs in herbs and spices, tastes his sauce, frowns and adds more salt. It’s horribly endearing and cute and dangerous and Eddie can’t tell if his stomach is growling or filled with butterflies. 

“Have you always loved cooking?” he asks, desperate to keep his thoughts from spiraling. Steve laughs again in response and the sound kicks up another storm in Eddie’s stomach. 

“God no,” Steve says and stirs his sauce. “I couldn’t cook for the longest time. Lived off tv dinners and take out for some years.” 

The soft smile of his lips faints slightly. Eddie knows what a bitter taste loneliness can leave in your mouth. Knows that while Steve never had to worry about food, he also never had someone to share it with. 

“Found some cookbooks inthe attic a few years back,” Steve continues. “Tired out some recipes, asked Claudia and Mrs. Wheeler for advice when I couldn’t get something right and well here we are.” 

“Here we are,” Eddie echoes, unable to tear his eyes away from Steve. He looks gorgeous in the golden afternoon light, a dorky apron that says Kiss the cook on it and god how Eddie would like to oblige that order. Steve catches him staring, but doesn’t call him out on it. The corner of his mouth twitches up as he dips a wooden spoon into the sauce, holds a hand under it and turns to Eddie.

“Taste this for me?” he asks, stepping closer, until he is bracketed by Eddie’s thighs. Eddie can just swallow and nod, not sure how to cope with Steve being this close. Steve lifts the spoon until wood touches Eddie’s lips. He parts them hesitantly, lets Steve push the spoon into his mouth, licks the sauce off it. All while looking in the gold honey and caramel of Steve’s eyes. Eddie wonders if Steve's lips would taste of spun sugar too. 

“It’s good,” he rasps once Steve has lowered the spoon. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

Steve smiles and god if smiles had a taste, Steve’s would be Eddie’s favorite flavor. The kind of flavor that would teach Eddie indulgence. The same way Steve indulges in his cooking, lets all the time and care he puts in his food speak for how much he loves the people he prepares food for. Because for Steve food is more than just sustenance. It's love. 

Steve goes back to the stove, stirs some more and begins humming again. Eddie continues to watch him. And for the first time in years, Eddie allows himself to be hungry. 

.   

[sweetnsour1]

9:36:01

Angsty fluff, Bakugou x fem reader

Part 1 of Broken Collection

Go back to part 0

“An echo.”

“An echo?”

“Yeah, ya know-“ you interrupted yourself with a few waves of your hand…an attempt to summon some sense of understanding. “Like the same thing, but not…and it comes later.”

Your thoughts faltered when you looked up at the sound of a chuckle, but your timing was off. The evidence was already being erased from his lips with the pass of a scarred hand. A quick cough and eye roll reset his expression before he tried again.

“Yea, I get what an echo is. Don’t get how one brought ya here.”

You huffed, returning your gaze to your lap. This was all frustrating and so…so stupid. You were frustrating. You were-A slippered foot nudged your leg. He bent to your sprawled-on-the-floor level, hooking a finger beneath your chin, raising your probably bloodshot eyes to meet his naturally red ones. Your eyes watered as they widened at the close proximity. Fuck, he looked so good…and you were so tired.

“Hmm…fix your face.”

“Ugh, I know. I haven’t slep-“

“No, this.” Something ran across your lips, tracing the frown you didn’t know was on display. By the time you could process his touch, it was gone. He was standing in the doorway again. This time with his hand down, palm out. “Well, come on.” The rush of panic was instant, your head was throbbing, your ears were ringing, your thoughts frozen before they could start.

“Huh?”

“Did ya wanna sleep out here?”

“No.”

“Okay then.” He moved closer, and you let him help you up.

Ugh, standing felt like such a pain after a night of dancing with Mina and Kaminari. They were probably still out. You’d bailed after the third spot…once you realized you were in walking distance to-

“Ya good?”

You nodded, seeing he’d led you to the bathroom. “Soft,” you mumbled into the pile of folded somethings he pushed into your arms.

“Remember where everything is?” He paused for an extra moment while you blinked up at him. “Nothing’s changed.”

You must have nodded because he seemed satisfied before heading off to the kitchen. You wandered to the mirror, ignoring your reflection, and placed the clothes on the counter. Nothing’s changed. What a lie. So many things had changed.

However, he wasn’t wrong…quite a few things seemed to have remained: The extra loofahs beneath the sink, the clean towel hanging on the shower door because you’d always forget to grab one, lavender bodywash, color protecting shampoo, the drain cover to catch your hair before it wreaked havoc on the plumbing.

You let the water burn, and steam fill the room. Anything to hide these markers, these tiny headstones detailing who was here for a moment before having to move on. Eventually, you groaned and shut the water off. You couldn’t hide in here forever.

“What am I doinggg?”

“Using all the hot water in the building.”

“Shit!” You wiped at the shower door to reveal an empty bathroom. “The fuck?”

That same chuckle floated toward you. “Don’t worry, still out here.” A hand waved from the hall. “Ya didn’t shut the door.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“Stop saying sorry, idiot.”

“Sor-“

“There’s food when you’re done.”

It felt so fucking good to be clean. You were halfway through putting lotion on, freezing mid-thigh. You’d bought this…for him at first, but then a larger size when you ended up loving the scent. Now it was just something else on the long list of things you had avoided for months. You finished getting presentable enough to journey to the kitchen.

He really did look so fucking good. His shoulders were relaxed, no longer grinding up towards his ears. His breaths seemed calmer than before. His back and shoulders had gotten bigger in all the best ways, while his waist seemed smaller somehow. He finally had the undercut you’d pushed for years ago, but he’d never wanted to try. He really, truly seemed like he was doing so much fucking better. But you knew that…you knew…you had said…you-

You jumped as his hands grabbed your face. When the hell had he turned around?

“The hell? You okay?” His thumbs traced along your cheekbones. Oh, tears.

“Yea, yea…just tired.” You tugged free of his grip, backing away to sit in the living room, burrowing into the corner of the sofa you used to like best. He half followed, and you could feel the question coming. He opened his mouth as you rolled your eyes. “Promise.” He shut it again with a tch, disappearing into the kitchen again. It’s like you were running lines from a script you’d memorized.

The food he finally brought over was probably delicious. You could only register it was warm and filling. It was hard to focus on anything really. Too much alcohol, too little sleep, too many memories, just too much.

“So an echo?”

You paused, noticing you had slid a pillow between the two of you at some point.

“Mmm. It’s probably better if we don’t unpack that.”

The cushions shifted as he stretched his long arms up and back down to rest along the back of the sofa. You found your gaze ripped away from the shoulders you couldn’t stop staring at by that same soft laugh you’d missed so much.

“Probably. Still wanna hear it though.”

“It’s just a theory…”

“Ya love those.”

“Mhmm.”

“So what is it this time?”

“It’s just…we broke up.”

“That’s true.”

“Well we broke up because we thought-“

“We?”

“Well we broke up because I thought we weren’t bringing out the best in each other anymore. Everything was harder and stressful and exhausting. We both put work first, but that made us feel shitty at home. But if we took time off to be at home, we felt shitty about not being at work. We were too similar and enabled so many bad habits.”

“Yea yea, I remember all that from before. Now what’s this echo?”

“Yea, so…we broke up because I thought that might be true. Now it’s been a while. And we’re both doing much better. Great even. And it’s just like a shitty echo of the heartbreak. Ya know? Because it’s like proof that we’re better apart than together. And…”

“And?”

“And so I guess that’s why I’m here.”

“Hmm.”

“What?”

“Doin’ great, huh?” His fingers ran through his blonde hair. “Are you doing better?”

“What? I mean…I’ve never been ranking higher than I am now. And the agency-“

“Not what I asked.”

“You asked-“

“Not work. Are you doing better?”

“Oh…yes?” Finally you were looking when his eyes crinkled and his laugh was set loose. Pretty.

“Now ask me.”

“Ask you?” He was no longer laughing but his mouth looked ready to release another at any moment. “Um, are you doing better?”

His hand was just warm enough for you to not flinch as it made contact with your neck. His thumb stroked the side of your face. Your eyes closed and you leaned into the touch you’d stayed away from for most of the year. You opened them again, unsure of how long he’d let you rest in the literal palm of his hand. He was fully grinning now.

“Not at fuckin’ all.”

“Not at fuck-wait not at all?” Your thoughts were getting more sluggish by the minute.

“Nope.”

“But-“

“Yea work’s great, but I’m always great at work.”

“But…You seem so relaxed and happy and I dunno…different?”

“No shit. You showed up at my door like I ordered delivery.” He laughed at your pout before it was fully formed. “Guess you’re too exhausted to wonder why I was awake at two in the fuckin’ morning.”

“But…but you go to bed at eight.”

“Been a while since i could do that.”

“Why?”

“You’re not the only one getting chased by echoes, kid.”

“Oh.”

Mmmmmm still unsure where this one is going, but these two are tugging me along. So we’ll see

Next part

Masterlist

[stobinesque]

@steddie-week day 2: fluff | 1.8k words | teen and up

The door to the apartment slammed shut, followed by the jingle-clang of keys landing in the ceramic bowl Robin had made for Steve two years ago.  

"Babe?" Steve looked up from the magazine he'd been flipping through and frowned at the stormy expression on Eddie's face. 

Eddie barely acknowledged him, just swept past with stomping feet, dropping an absentminded kiss to the top of Steve's head as he made his way into the bedroom. A few moments later Steve heard the telltale thunk and flop of Eddie's bag hitting the ground and the man himself hitting their bed.

Ah, so one of those days.

Steve set down his magazine, folded his reading glasses neatly atop it, and pushed himself up from the couch to make for the bathroom.

~*~*~*~

Eddie wanted to die. Nope, no, he wanted to commit a homicide. 

Actually, scratch that, being wanted for murder sucked.

What he wanted was for the world not to be full of a bunch of entitled little shitsacks who had never been taught how to talk to another human being who didn't have a white collar around their neck.

At least his bed was there to support him. The mattress was a little lumpy, sure, but nothing could outmatch the satisfaction of dramatically flinging oneself onto a flat surface after a shity day at work. 

The sound of running bath water filtered into Eddie's awareness. 

Okay, maybe one thing.

Steve usually allowed him a few minutes to sulk and brood when he got home feeling like shit. Sometimes interacting with any human (even someone he would literally—and nearly did—die for) was just too much. 

"Eds?"

"Mmph." Eddie spit some of the hair that had landed in his mouth out, but didn't bother to raise his head more than half an inch off the bed to do so.

Steve chuckled. "Okay, five more minutes—otherwise the water will get too cold. I'm gonna go make us some tea."

Eddie raised an arm and waved vaguely in the direction of Steve's voice in acknowledgement.

He let himself drift for his five minutes to the sound of Steve puttering around the kitchen—grabbing mugs, teabags, the sugar jar—before peeling himself up off the bed when the shrill whistle of the kettle pierced through the relative silence of the apartment. If he wasn't in the bath by the time Steve made it there he'd be in trouble. Which could be fun, but it wasn't what he was in the mood for today. 

Eddie stripped off his—itchy, sweaty, suffocating—uniform as he padded over to the bathroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind him as he went.

~*~*~*~

Steve waltzed back into the bathroom with two steaming mugs in his hand to find Eddie already situated in the tub, knees pulled up under his chin, hair piled up in a messy bun, and one hand dragging lazily across the surface of the water. 

Steve set both mugs down on the ground next to the bath. "Hey, baby," he murmured, pressing a kiss to his boyfriend’s temple.

"Hi." Eddie's voice was low and subdued.

“Bad day?” Steve asked as he pulled his shirt up and over his head.

Eddie shrugged. “You could say that.”

“Wanna talk about it?” Steve shucked off his jeans.

Eddie shook his head. “Not much to talk about.”

“Okay.” Steve folded his clothes, set them in a neat stack atop the closed toilet lid, and carefully lowered himself into the bath behind Eddie.

The water was just a touch too hot for his own comfort, but Eddie ran cold and preferred his baths on the scalding warmer side. (Shared showers were a trial. Eddie insisted that Steve was trying to murder him with frostbite. Steve maintained that Eddie was trying to boil the both of them alive.)

Some of the tension had already bled out just from being in the bath. Eddie’s shoulders were no longer curled up around his ears—instead, he was slouched forward into the water. 

Steve wrapped his arms around Eddie’s waist and pressed a kiss to the patchy birthmark high up on his back, smiling when Eddie responded with a humming little sigh. “Wash my hair?” he asked.

“Sure thing, Eds.”

Steve reached over to grab the shampoo and tiny bucket they left in the shower just for this. “Wanna drink some of your tea before I douse you?”

Eddie didn’t say anything, but reached out blindly to grab one of the steaming mugs next to the tub. Steve didn’t bother holding back a snort that he’d managed to grab the “Don’t Bother Me, I’m Crabby” mug they’d nicked from Wayne. 

Eddie took a slow sip of the tea, and the second he’d set it back down and straightened back up, Steve dumped a bucket of warm water over his head.

Eddie spluttered. “Babe, what the fuck!”

Steve snickered from behind him. “Just wanted to make sure you were here on earth with me, bedhead.”

Eddie shook his head like a rain-soaked dog. “You could have at least taken out the ponytail first!”

“I suppose I could have,” Steve said, lips twitching up into a smile as he reached up to start pulling Eddie’s dark curls from where they’d gotten tangled in the hair tie. “I got you talking again in something other than a monotone, though.”

“Maybe I was enjoying playing the dark, broody hero.”

Steve pinched Eddie’s side, which resulted in a high-pitched squeak, and a wild flail that had water splashing up around them. "Behave," Steve chastised—though the warning was undercut by the laugh of unconcealed delight he barked out as Eddie’s arms swung around him. 

"You're the one assaulting me in my time of suffering!"

"Suck it up, buttercup,” Steve shot back, combing his fingers through wet curls and gently detangling each and every knot he ran into. He couldn't help but rub the silky-soft strands between his fingers as he went. Steve's own day had been slow and uneventful, but a quiet sort of unease had been hovering at the edges for hours. Drawing Eddie a bath and settling in behind him to wash his hair helped settle Steve back into his body just as much as it did for Eddie. 

Steve began working shampoo into Eddie's roots, massaging his fingers into his scalp, and Eddie's head tipped back as he let out a pleased hum that sounded almost like a purr. "Love your fingers in my hair, Stevie," he mumbled, sounding a bit hazy.

"Yeah? Is that the only place you like my fingers?" Steve asked, right into Eddie's ear. 

Eddie scrambled back upright and turned to face Steve with an alarmed expression on his face. "No! Why would you think that? Did I say something to make you think that? Please, I’m so sorry, baby. Please know that I love your fingers anywhere on me. Or in me. What if they went somewhere else right now?" 

Steve laughed, grabbing Eddie's shoulder to turn him back around with one hand, and dipping the bucket back into the water to rinse the suds out of Eddie's hair with the other. When Steve was sure he'd thoroughly rinsed Eddie's hair he leaned past him to grab the conditioner and whisper in his ear, "You can get them somewhere else a little later if you're good for me, baby," before leaning back and clicking the bottle open.

"I'll be so good for you, Stevie. Just tell me what I gotta do."

"Keep still and don't sass me for the next five minutes."

Eddie's mouth opened and then immediately snapped back shut as he clearly decided that whatever his response to that was gonna be probably qualified as "sass."

"Good boy," Steve said simply, dropping another kiss to Eddie's back. 

"I can be good when I wanna be," Eddie grumbled. 

"Careful," Steve shot back, gently chiding. He methodically worked the conditioner through Eddie's hair in sections, tugging gently as he did, just for the soft satisfaction that ran through him every time Eddie let out a soft gasp in response to it. 

"Always careful, Stevie," Eddie mumbled back, eyes fluttering shut. 

Steve reached down to brush one hand over the scars running down Eddie's side. "Not always," he whispered, just a little sadly, as he pressed a firm kiss to the mostly-faded ring of scars at his throat. 

"Mm, don't be sad, baby."

"Not sad. Just glad you're alive."

Eddie was quiet for a stretch, and Steve chuckled. 

"What? What were you gonna say, asshole?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, love," Eddie replied, all faux innocence.

"You were gonna say something sassy just then, that's why you went all quiet. So, out with it, come on. How were you gonna sass me in response to me saying I'm glad you're alive?"

"Promise you won't hold it against me?"

"Yeah, baby." Steve leaned over to press a kiss to Eddie’s nose. "This one's a freebie."

Eddie looked over his shoulder with a wide grin, and a twinkle in his eye. "I was gonna call you a sap."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Oh, well, fuck me for being happy my boyfriend's alive I guess."

"I was actually hoping that you would fuck me," Eddie replied. 

"You're pushing your luck, Eds," Steve warned, yanking lightly at his hair. 

"Sorry, baby."

Steve ran his hands up and down the sides of Eddie's arms. "All forgiven, Eds." 

Steve let his hands drift as he waited for the conditioner to rest—digging his fingers into the dense coils of muscle in Eddie's neck, smoothing his palms down the ridges of Eddie's spine, ghosting his hands up Eddie's sides. When time was up, he grabbed the bucket, turned on the tap to fill it with clean, warm water, and spilled it over Eddie’s head. Steve combed his fingers through the chestnut locks again, making sure he’d thoroughly rinsed them once more. The two of them fell still and silent, like two little stones in the river bed. 

Steve loved this. The quiet trance they fell into, as Eddie relaxed into the water, and Steve pressed kisses into his lover’s skin, and they both forgot the mugs of tea that Steve made. 

Steve separated Eddie’s hair into even sections, savoring the feeling of freshly cleaned locks passing through his fingers as he wove the strands together—over-under, over-under, over-under—and plaited Eddie’s hair down the length of his back. When he was done, he flipped the end of the braid back over Eddie’s shoulder, and Eddie leaned further into him, pressing the length of his back against Steve’s chest.

Steve let his hands start wandering, and Eddie let out a soft gasp of surprise when the pads of Steve's thumbs brushed over both nipples. "Steve."

"Shh, I got you baby," Steve murmured, and let one hand drop down to where Eddie was stiffening up beneath the water.

"I know you do, Stevie," Eddie whispered back on a sigh and a gasp. "I know you do."

[urrockstar-xe]

never enough - j.m x fem!reader

posted nov 2nd, 2023 12:16 am

hey, sorry i ghosted, I'm not doing to hot but here's something, I'm trying a little November challenge where i try and cope with life things where i write an imagine/blurb inspired by something that happened during my day, here's an argument i had with my mommy in a jj fic lol this isn't my best work but i hope u like it :3

this includes wording stating that the reader's hair is a texture that is easy to play with and the use of y/n and probably inaccurate JJ but i needed his comfort sue me

summary: How do you deal with having to have the very same (or at least very similar) conversations with your loved ones that involve what you're currently going through? Because that's the exact problem you’ve been having with JJ. angst to fluff??? kinda? hurt/comfort? idk

masterlist

wordcount: 1k

“You never do anything to show that you love me, JJ! You throw your arm around my shoulder and call it a fucking day”

Eventually what once was calm and civil and even mature conversations turn into screaming matches.

“I don’t know what else you fucking want from me, Y/n!” JJ’s voice bounced off the walls of the chateau which was luckily empty due to the small fire in the back.

“JJ, I expressed what I needed, I used my words and my actions to show and tell you exactly what I needed and you still couldn’t do me one small favor? I just wanted you to run your fingers through my hair a few times is that so fucking hard?” Your own voice was wavering in volume, sometimes louder and sometimes quiet, defeated even. 

“I listen when you vent, I do better when we have a problem, I even fucking cancel my plans to spend time with you, nothing I do is ever fucking enough for you!” and there it was, the words slipping out of your dear boyfriend’s mouth before he could even think about it, the words that thrown in your face so very often, the words that made you question everything about yourself

He was trying, he was listening and he was being incredibly patient and understanding with you.

The look of regret from his words alone was enough to realize that. 

Until that gross feeling of pride came onto you, possessing your entire being with the rage you’ve had building inside of you for months.

“Fuck you, JJ. fuck you, because I got upset with you and when I tried to walk away and blow off steam you got pissed and bitchy and didn’t fucking let me, and then when I explained my issue to you, you gave me a fucking attitude.” Your words were fast now, spewing out like a soda when you shake it too hard.

“I needed you! And I told you that! Just like you asked me to! How am I supposed to properly communicate with you when you tell me one thing and then turn around and do the fucking opposite!” it was less of a question and more of an accusation but at this point, it was hard to care.

You had tried responsibly talking to him, getting to a better place with him, but it wasn’t getting anywhere. Your relationship with JJ getting heavier on your shoulders and piling what smelt like loads of shit onto what you’ve already been struggling with.

“Y/n, baby-” JJ started but you were already out the door, feeling the guilt from ignoring him as you walked away yet still ignoring his calls even as your friends called out at the sight of you leaving what was supposed to be a night of freedom for the pogues.

When the next day came around the avoiding calls started, when JJ and Y/n got into a fight it caused tension in the entire friend group. There's a reason “pogues don’t date pogues” is such a big rule for you and your friends.

It wasn’t a rift it was just a fear, a fear of losing everything you all had,

all that you guys had. 

But you couldn’t deal with the confrontation today, so you turned off your ringer and went about your day as normal, morning routine, work, go home, homework.

5 pm rolled around and you thought that maybe they had given up (feeding your delusional anxieties and fears at no fault of the pogues but still)

Then there was the knock on your door, and then another after you ignored the first,

This pattern repeated until eventually, you sighed, getting up from your bed to go down the hall and answer who you knew was your impatient boyfriend at the door. 

“Hey, beautiful!” JJ’s voice was quiet as if he was astonished at the fact that you actually opened the door. The array of flowers sat loosely in his hands before he watched you look down at them and back up at him, wordlessly. 

“Oh! This is for you, I uh, wanted to apologize.” JJ was almost stumbling over his words as he went to hand you the flowers, carefully examining you as you took them and moved back into your home, 

He followed, mumbling more apologies before you set the small bouquet on the kitchen counter and turned to him. 

“Listen, Y/n, You were right, I did ask you to be more clear on things you need from me and you were, and I, I dismissed you completely, I was just drunk and all over the place and I’m overworked like hell lately but these aren’t excuses and I’m sorry, my sweet girl, I really mean it” JJ’s words were calculated, he had thought about them all day and he did mean it,

despite this, there was still an aching feeling in your chest,

and the confusion and guilt you felt for still being upset about this stupid mistake caused the recurring tears to well up in your eyes as you stared at JJ’s chest, avoiding his eyes.

“Oh, baby” he whispered, quiet and delicate like if he spoke any louder you’d fall apart in front of him.

Carefully, JJ pulled you into him, not knowing what else to do but you let him, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt as sobs wrecked through your body, broken apologies barely being heard through your tears and shaky breaths but JJ still held you, 

Playing with your hair and shushing you and whispering “It's okay, baby” to every little apology that slipped past your lips. 

You stood with each other like this until you eventually calmed down, JJ had managed to lean against the counter and in turn, get you to lean on him.

“I’ll do better baby I promise” He whispered into your hair, hoping you could hear it through the small pains of your hiccups from crying.

“I’m sorry there's always something wrong with me” you mumbled back, the soft laugh from JJ catching you off guard as he pulled you back just enough to hold your tear-stained cheeks in his hands.

“There’s always somethin’ wrong with us, we’re pogues.” He teased, earning a quiet scoff from you before he shut you up with a soft kiss pressed to your swollen lips and then one on your nose, and another on your forehead. 

“We’ll be okay, pretty lady, we’ll get through it,”��

[moodywyrm]

Thinking about bringing farmhand! Sevika dinner that I cooked.

That’s all that’s the whole thing but I fucking love the idea of farmhand!Sevika and all your au stuff and hc it’s so cool.

I need you to know that this ask made me n jj @pinknightsinmymind malfunction when we saw it. also im listening to dial drunk by Noah kahan and I feel like it applies to Sevika pre-farm in a bad way, so we have a few thoughts going.

The first time you cooked Sevika dinner, it caught her off guard. It was a week or so after she helped you get the kitchen in the farmhouse back in working order, on a cool day in March. She'd been going through the old barn for whatever supplies were still usable, and by the time she was done she had a pile of tools and old fertilizers, one hell of a sore body, and an empty stomach. She wanted nothing more than to drag herself back into her cabin, scarf down something easy, and pass out.

So she's a little bit irritated when you call out to her from the porch of the farmhouse. Not too upset, because, really, how upset can she be when you're haloed in warm light, dressed in a sweet little outfit that you could only wear because Sevika promised she could handle all the farm work today, and smiling at her so prettily.

"Sevika! Come here, I've got something for you!" You yell, waving her over. Sevika sighs and redirects her path to you, trudging up the stairs to the house and letting you guide her through the sparsely decorated space.

"What's the matter? Didya need my he-" She pauses, staring at the sight in front of her in shock. Laid out on the rickety old dining table are steaming hot dishes of chicken, cornbread, mac n cheese, and veggies. Too much for one person, and in fact there are two places set on either end.

"Surprise! I know you've been working real hard on the farm and you've been more help to me than you could ever know, so I wanted to do something for ya, especially since you helped me fix up the kitchen," You say, waiting anxiously for any response that wasn't just stunned silence. Sevika just stares, staring at the pure labor of love that was this dinner. These dishes take time, and effort, and you made them for her?

"You really didn't have to do all this..."

"I wanted to, you've done so much for me already," You murmur, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder and gesturing for her to sit down. Your movements have a sort of soft authority to them, and Sevika knows instantly she won't win this. With a sigh, she sits down in the armchair you'd dragged into the kitchen, watching as you sit down across from her in your own armchair.

Before Sevika could do anything, you start piling food onto her plate, giggling at the way her stomach grumbles at the smell of a good, home cooked meal. She can't help but feel a bit suspicious. She knows you're a good person, you haven't given her a reason to think otherwise. But, fuck, it's been a damn long time since someone has done something like this for her and not expected anything in return. She really, truly, doesn't know what to say.

You sense her apprehension and let her grab her own chicken, serving yourself food and letting the silence settle between you two. She waits for you to serve yourself before either of you start eating, but once she gets a taste, she's voracious. It's been years since she's had a meal this good, and she swears you have the cooking skills of an aunt or some shit, because this incredible. You giggle, watching as she devours the mac n cheese without a second thought.

"I take it that you like it?"

"This is fucking delicious," She grunts, biting into a drumstick and moaning, "Who taught you to cook like this?"

You try not to get caught up on the sounds of her eating, beating back any less than appropriate thoughts, to answer her question. "I did. Cooking gave me something to do, and anyways I love doing it, so I just gradually got pretty okay at it."

"You're better than 'pretty okay', you cook like an angel," Sevika says, looking at you with nothing but sincerity in those deep, tired eyes.

"Well, thank you, I'm glad you like it," You murmur, shoving some cornbread in your mouth before you could say anything more.

Sevika follows your example and tucks back into her place, groaning at the taste of glazed yams. She's slows her pace a little, wanting to enjoy the food and this strangely comforting moment with you. You've done nothing to make her wary, and she is – against all odds – deeply comforted by your little display. It feels good, being taken care of, she realizes. It makes her want to take care of you, and she really can't analyze that any deeper or she'll go insane. So she does the only thing she knows how to do. She makes herself useful.

"You know, you should really get some better dining chairs," She grumbles, gesturing at the worn-out armchairs you two were sitting on.

"Yeah probably, but I can't really afford them just yet."

"I could make you some, got some spare wood lying around," She mumbles, already thinking back to the pile of spare wood lying in the unused barn.

"Oh you don't have to do that, really," You scramble, not wanting to push any more work onto her. "I kinda like the armchairs for now, they're real comfy."

Sevika snorts a little at that. "Sure they're comfortable, but they'll be a bitch to clean if you spill food on 'em."

"You're not making me chairs, Sevika. Really, it's okay." Your words are firm, shutting her down, and it takes every ounce of strength in Sevika to not freeze up.

You said no to the chairs, and now she can't even the score and that is terrifying. She tries not to freak out, focusing her energy on eating the food you made her, but everything feels a bit to familiar. She doesn't want to be in anyones debt, and she knows she literally works for you, but it's never felt like it. Her brain is moving a thousand miles per minute, speeding through every way this could go wrong, when you reach out and gently touch her hand.

"Hey, I'm sorry if I upset you. I just don't wanna add to your workload right now, especially since we're gonna have a lot of work with the farm soon. It's a real sweet offer, but the chairs aren't my top priority right now," You murmur, your voice gentle and soothing, trying not to upset her any more.

Sevika sighs, trying to release some of the tension she's filled with. You watch as the creases on her forehead smooth out, the soft slope of her shoulders as they drop.

"It's okay, I get it. Maybe later, once things are less intense, I can work on 'em. Just wanted to thank you, for doing this," She says, gesturing to the spread before her. You huff out a soft laugh that sets her on edge, but that dissipates when you pat her rough hand.

"Sevika, I did this as a thank you for helping me. If we get into a loop of thank you's, it'll be never-ending," You giggle, and the sound rings through Sevika's head like a wedding bell. She can't help but admire how good you look in the soft light, how domestic this whole scene must look to an outsider. Two women eating dinner, basically holding hands and looking at each other with more gentleness than could ever pass as platonic. It makes her heart do a weird little flip, if she's being honest. She needs to shift the conversation before she gets down on one knee, and fast.

"If your apologies are this delicious, I wouldn't mind it," She chuckles, patting your hand before returning to her plate. You roll your eyes and laugh, feeling the moment fade a bit.

You two finish your meal in peace, Sevika sharing little details from her day. It's good, sweet, and honestly you wouldn't mind doing this every night. When you send her off to her cabin that night with a full belly and tupperware stuffed with leftovers, you can't help but feel a messy fluttering in your chest. You go to sleep that night wishing that she'd fallen asleep with you, not knowing that Sevika was thinking the exact same thing, less than forty feet away.

[tenebriskukris]

Oshi No Ko Chapter 166 - My Thoughts/Analysis

One last ride. I want to lay these chapter reviews to rest better than the series dropped the ball for its ending. As always, spoilers for Oshi No Ko Chapter 166 below.

And we are back with Oshi No Powerpoint. Can this manga actually organically show events or is this entire chapter going to be more slideshow?

No—it is indeed more slideshow. Fantastic. Ruby doesn’t even get to be a fucking character in a chapter dedicated to her. Of course. After being sidelined for a good half of the manga this is how the authors deal with her character. By having her get over Aqua in such a half assed manner that it doesn’t feel earned, doesn’t feel resonant, and simply does not make sense considering how she was when she found out Goro was dead. That girl has nothing now. Why is she still striving to become an idol when there’s no one waiting for her at the end of the day when there’s nothing that the narrative has done to make us think she could get over this tragedy?

More slideshow of all the characters. It seems I was wrong. Most children’s television shows can salvage a more cohesive and thematic ending than this slop. I don’t even care about the new B-Komachi member, Kana and Akane’s appearances, even Ruby at the Dome. It’s just a hollow and empty slideshow that’s trying to evoke emotions that aren’t disgust at the ending.

It’s incredible that Ruby turned out to be Ai 2.0 when the revelations made in Chapter 122-123 onward said that she doesn’t want to be an idol that lies and now here she is, being an idol that lies. Thank you Aqua, for being such a supreme idiot. Ruby’s time as an idol will fade but I’m sure she’d rather have that transient career rather than have you alongside her.

The final few panels are a kick in the teeth for every fan that’s gotten invested in this series. I’d say that I would be surprised but it’s become obvious that the quality of this manga has massively declined for ages by now. This ending is one final reminder of that fact. 

And that’s the end. Analyzing it further is a useless endeavor. It’s a pile of shit and no amount of pretty art will be able to refute that. I could list off any number of reasons Why I think the ending is a hot steaming pile of garbage but for an ending that fails in so many ways that one could say pretty much anything negative about the ending and it’ll hit somewhat accurately. I don’t even want to give it my time and effort in gesturing to just how bad it is when it’s so plainly obvious. There’s no satisfaction in ripping apart the chapter’s guts when it’s already rotting away in the ground.

This is not a good ending. I don’t want to hear anything about tragic endings and the nature of revenge and tragedy and all that bullshit. All those claims might have some merit if the ending wasn’t a Windows Powerpoint Slideshow that forced its content down the readers throats. Even leaving that aside there are a whole host of subplots that never got addressed, character development that was aborted in this manga’s womb, a complete disregard for the themes established in the previous parts in the manga—it’s just—bad. Bad in a way that’s almost like a “fuck you” for being invested in the manga in the first place.

Tragedy in itself does not make a good ending. Sadness and moving on does not inherently make a good ending. The buildup and relevant character beats for these characters contradict the message this chapter is trying to sell. This ending feels divorced from everything that came before it. I can almost smell that this is a first draft kind of ending that came before everything actually happened.

I’d say that I want the series to put me in my grave so it could let me down one last time, but knowing how bad it fumbled with this ending I don’t even trust it to do That. 

I almost want to see how the anime tackles this ending if only because I’m sure that it’ll be canceled before it can even get close to this point. Could you imagine adapting the clusterfuck that were the last couple of chapters? The utter mess that was the movie arc? I can already smell people defending this ending saying it’s actually good because it’s a tragedy and that there was a host of foreshadowing involved. On almost every scale I can come up with in regards to ending does this series’ finale just fucking suck.

On more content adjacent to the manga but related to the series itself; apparently there’s one bonus chapter that’ll be released with the volume? People are really coping that it’ll save this manga but as far as I’m concerned it’s absolutely nothing. No, it’s less than nothing, because it’s the equivalent of a pie to the face after eating a shit sandwich. A joke at the reader’s expense. How despicable. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was another Kaguya-sama crossover. Any additional content that this manga vomits up wouldn’t change the fact that this ending exists in the first place. One final cherry on top of a pile of shit doesn’t change much after all is said and done.

There is also a light novel that focuses on Akane and Kana coming out for some reason. Incredible. Even after all of that the authors are still trying to milk out fans for their waifu bucks when they were handled so shoddily. But the lowest common denominator and yuri fans will be eating, I suppose. If they get disappointed by the quality of the work, that’s as much as they deserve, I guess.

Doing some light research on reactions to this clusterfuck of an ending reveals in an interview that this was the ending that the author had in mind all along which—well. I wouldn’t trust the author to write a book for children after this ending, let alone another manga. But this world isn’t an ideal one so he’s managed to hitch his horse to another manga artist and is now on the way to make yet another manga. From what I hear he’s already 2 for 2 with shoddily written endings and mediocre series so it’s surprising that people let him get away with crap like this.

I don’t think I’ll be touching any of the other works by the author with a ten foot pole. I wouldn’t even recommend this series to anyone simply because of how bad everything was so close to the end. There are better media out there that don’t waste the readers’ time and handle its themes better. An ending is the last word that the author has on their series and more often than not when a series’ ending is garbage it sullies the rest of the work by proxy. Every single arc before this one will be stained by the knowledge that its ending was so shoddily written that it dispenses with everything that came before it.

Guess that’s the end of the line. I’d say that it was a pleasure, but that would be a lie. Perhaps that’s fitting given that the manga claims that lies are love and never quite did anything with it.

[amoebagrl]

catch me if you can, working on my tan (PREVIEW)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ neighbor!ellie williams x fem reader

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ summary: ellie spends her first summer at her and her fathers new vacation house, and her first summer with a summer fling.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ a/n: hi! i hope u guys enjoy this lil preview of a fic im working on, so sorry it’s taking so long to write, i’m super busy. it should be done in a week or two :) per usual, join my taglist to be notified when i post the full thing & song used in title is slavatore by lana del rey! ♡

Ellie didn't know why Joel decided to purchase a beach home, but she was greatful for it.

Summers in Jackson were grueling. The hot, and sticky air definitely wasn't her favorite.

So when her adoptive father, Joel, had let her know that his offer the house had been accepted, Ellie was overjoyed.

In the weeks before summer break, she became more anxious and excited to spend her summer on the beach.

She wondered how different the beach town would be from her home, and what kind of kids her age would be there.

When the day finally came, Ellie was packed and ready, sitting at the table with her bags in hand, and suitcase by her feet.

"Woah there kiddo" Joel laughed as he entered the dining room. "What? I'm ready" *You sure are" he chuckled "Can we go yet?" the auburn-haired girl whined.

"Well if I knew you were fixin' to get going this early, would have finished packing" "Seriously?!" Ellie called out to the man as he walked away.

He entered the room with his luggage after, what Ellie claimed to be, hours.

They piled up into the beat up truck and began their twelve hour drive to Florida.

Joel insisted they only stopped for absolute necessities, but found himself stopping for snacks one too many times.

When they arrived, it was dark, around 10:00 at night. Ellie had fell asleep in the passenger seat around halfway in the trip, after claiming she ‘wasn't tired’ and it reminded Joel of when she was a kid.

"Ellie. Ellie. Cmon get up" Joel whispered, nudging the girl.

"Huh?" She asked, stirring "We're here. Come on, get inside" "What about all the bags?" "Well get it all in the morning" "Mhm" she groaned.

Unbuckling her seatbelt and walking inside, she barely took the time to look around, just heading straight for her bed, which was already made. She took a mental note to thank Joel in the morning before falling asleep.

Ellie woke up to the bright sunshine creeping in through the window. She slowly sat up and creeped out of her bedroom, looking for her father.

"Morning Ellie" Joel croaked out from the kitchen, turning around with a mug full of coffee.

"Goodmorning" Ellie yawned, rubbing her eyes.

"Ya sleep well?" The older man asks, sipping on the steaming cup. "Mhm. Thanks for making my bed and stuff." She smiled, truly greatful.

"No problem." He replied, grinning in return.

"Hey, why don't you go down the street and get us some of those...uh... 'a-kai' bowls?" He asked, reaching for his wallet. "I think it's açaí, but sure.

Let me get dressed" She nods, turning to go back upstairs to get dressed.

The auburn-haired girl emerges 20 minutes later in jeans and a t-shirt, tugging on her beat up converse.

"This good?" She looks up, unsure if the outfit is suitable for the hot weather.

"Jesus, Ellie. I said clothes for hot weather, it's

'bout ninety degrees!" "I'll be fine" She rolls her eyes, grabbing the $20 bill from Joels hands, before stepping outside.

"Shit." She gasps, fanning herself for a moment before grabbing her skateboard off the porch and stepping onto the sidewalk, heading off down the block for the small shop.

The bells over the front door chimed as Ellie stepped in the small, but nice, café.

"Welcome! What can I get started for 'ya?" You asked, looking up from the cash register to meet the customers gaze.

"Oh, um... Can I look over the menu and stuff?" Ellie asked, bringing her hand up to rub the back of her neck, a nervous tic she had.

"Of course" You smiled sweetly.

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taglist: @5prettygirl5 @cowgirlcherrie @553ellie @certifedcrybunny @hi2647 @romioneslut

[dearabby1990]

Chapter 19: The start of something new

A night filled of music giggles & cuddling turned into the both of you turning into a pile of limbs on your bed. You can’t even remember the last time you slept that solid let alone fell asleep as fast as you did last night. Turning on your side to find the most angelic face as wild & loud as Eddie could be he looked so peaceful so perfect. Freckles decorating his face like the worlds most beautiful constellation his long lashes kiss his cheeks like cherubs his kissable lips slightly parted as his chest rises & falls. You can’t remember when you’ve felt this content. Eddie starts to stir peeking one eye at you while slowly growing into the world’s biggest smile “mmm good mornin’ sweetheart” you slide in closer to rest your head on his chest “morning handsome” he chuckles running one hand up and down your arm and the other running through your hair. “So… two more days & I get to show my beautiful girl off I really can’t wait to see your dress” you smile still worried & the insecurities in the back of your mind stir but eddie makes you feel the safest you’ve ever felt in your life so you internally tell yourself to relax “I’m excited to see you all dapper you’re already so pretty eddie I can only imagine how beautiful you’d be all dressed up” you nuzzle into him taking in his scent of drug store cologne Newports & weed the smell that is Eddie like a drug you can’t get enough of. “Aw shucks princess I’m just happy to have you & to have you with me”. You both lay there for another hour before deciding to get up & take a shower your under the hot water relaxing eyes closed when you feel something touch you that makes you jolt and almost bust your ass when you open your eyes it’s Eddie stark naked chuckling “shit beautiful I didn’t mean to scare ya I just thought it’d save on water” he winks at you but your blushing like crazy & then it hits you that he sees all of you & you being to panic covering yourself bottom lip quivering Eddie cups your face “hey Heyy sweetheart don’t hide from me please you’re so beautiful look at me I don’t want you to feel like you have to shy away from me” he pulls you into his chest water running over the both of you Eddie begins kissing your neck & then your ear whispering “you’re so beautiful & sweet smart funny sexy & all mine I want you to do something for me ‘kay?” You nod “okay I want you to say you’re beautiful” you furrow your brows “come on princess we’re not leaving this bathroom until I hear you say it” you huff “I’m beautiful” you mumble “I’m sorry love didn’t quite hear you” Eddie dramatically motioning his hand near his ear “I’m beautiful” still to low for his liking he begins peppering you with kisses “come on out with it pretty girl” he tilts your chin up so he can see your face “I’M BEAUTIFUL!!!” Eddie jumps back clenching his chest laughing “there she is!” He pulls you in lips crashing together until the steam of the shower became too much for you both. Eddie took his time showering you with affection washing your hair and body while kissing your entire body praising you the whole time you washed him too letting him know how amazing & gorgeous he is & how you thank god for bringing him into your life. Once all clean you both get dressed you head to the kitchen to make breakfast in the middle of making your meal Eddie leans in the doorframe taking you in. Eddie never thought he’d be the kind of guy to want a domestic kind of life but he could see it with you watching you in the kitchen he’s flooded with thoughts of coming home from a long day at work & you barefoot pregnant waiting for him he knew right there he’d never let you go you’re it for him he knows he has to take his time with you but for you he’d wait a million years and move mountains. Coming up behind you wrapping his arms around your waist “smells Good princess I wanna set the table for you where’s everything so I can help” you smile “plates are in the cabinet above the microwave silverware is in the drawer next to the sink on the right and cups are right next to me in the glass cabinet”. To be continued…

[ficbrish]

Waking Up With You Chapter 2

“Damn… is it time to go already?” [AO3]

Rating: Explicit, 18+ only

Tags: During Canon, POV Alternating, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Developing Relationship, Shameless Smut, Fluff and Smut, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Some Humor, She falls first, He falls harder, Friends to Lovers, Love Confessions, First Kiss, First Time, Kissing, Bathing/Washing, Shower Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Fisting, Oral Sex, Ass to Mouth

[[TW/CW: Grief, smoking, alcohol, food, booty-eating, fisting, light dom/sub undertones]]

[Previous Chapter]

MacCready didn’t mention breakfast meant Diamond City. Renée had made the perilous trek between towns often enough by now to recognize their route after that first turn, but he still held onto their destination like it was a secret.

“We’re going to Diamond City, right?”

“You’ll see.”

Renée was so hungry by the time they got there she even started to regret passing up one of those super mutant grab bags on the way over. Sticking her hand into a pile of dismembered flesh, that had been lying on the floor for who knows how many days, and pulling out a bit of bloatfly would have been better than the pit of anger now festering in her belly.

MacCready looked so proud of himself standing in front of the noodle bar with his hands triumphantly placed on his hips. The light beaming through his expression made him seem as if he’d just gifted her the world.

Or maybe it was just the same shit-eating grin that refused to leave his face ever since this morning.

The robot spoke first, “Nan-ni shimasho-ka?”

“Yes! Two of them!” MacCready tossed his caps on the counter smoothly like a noir protagonist before his Icarus burn, “And stay nearby! Today we eat ‘till the lady’s had her fill.”

Renée settled onto one of the stools, “Oh, you dreamboat.”

He joined her with a tsk, tsk, “Better start showing some appreciation for my generosity, boss. I’ll unionize, you know.”

He looked up at her through the brim of his cap and her face flushed with sudden heat.

Two could play at that.

Renée gracefully reached for the side of his face. Her fingers gently wrapped around his ear, her thumb tracing along his jaw. The smugness left his eyes for something softer. He covered her hand in his.

“And how would you do that?” she purred, “You’re my only mercenary.”

MacCready took their hands off his cheek to rest them in his lap.

“I’ve got bargaining power,” he stated confidently, moving her hand slightly further up his thigh. He was subtle about it. No one saw. Her heart thudded as her palm brushed over that secret part of him.

Clouds of steam carrying the smell of hot noodles got placed under their noses.

They dug in without another word, slurping and swallowing without even tasting. Behind them some man started shouting at a security guard to stay away from his wife. Something like that usually immediately captured their attention, but the bustling market around them became a dull thrum to their senses. There were only noodles; they took over completely.

After all of about five minutes, half-satisfied and ready for a nap, Renée and MacCready sat back in their stools. The robot cleared their empty bowls.

“Noodles for breakfast?” she asked as they waited for another round.

“Well, it’s past noon, which makes this lunch. Perfect time for noodles.”

A gruff individual next to them in a green jacket and ratty cap interrupted the robot from its preparations, “They had some already! I’m next!”

They shared an amused look and a smirk. MacCready took his cigarettes out of his pocket and offered one to Renée, which she gladly accepted.

“You ever gonna get some of your own?” he asked, unlit cigarette dangling between his lips, “Or are you just gonna keep borrowing from me?”

She leaned in as he held out a flame for both of them.

Their faces hadn’t been this close since the walk over when he pulled her into an alley to steal a kiss. They smiled and blushed at the memory as they inhaled, and the sparked cherries cast a warm glow over their expressions.

He’d very obviously wanted the gesture in the alley to be spontaneous, but she’d known what was coming—he took the time to clear the area first. Now that Renée knew about Lucy, she could see her dreadful fate in every ounce of RJ’s thoroughness. She saw the strength of his affection in it as well. Words could never ring as sweet as the sight of his professional paranoia taken up a notch by her presence.

He’d tangled his fingers in her hair as he consumed her. It wasn’t wise to be so oblivious to the Wasteland around them. Having something precious to protect was the only reason they were able to pull away and keep going.

“Technically, all the cigarettes are mine,” Renée blew her smoke into the street, “I just make you carry them.”

“Gee, thanks.”

He took another drag and chuckled at the end of his exhale.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“This!” that ear-to-ear smile of his was back, “I mean, can you believe this?!”

Renée tried to hide her gleeful expression with another puff, but she wore the corners of her mouth as earrings just like he did.

Pre-war men only ever acted like this before they made it between your knees. Even Nate had tried to brush her off before she swallowed her pride and begged him to stay. It wasn’t about whether they cared for you, or how much. That’s just how men were.

Then that world ended.

“Oh, thanks!” RJ’s eyes grew wide as their second round of noodles got placed in front of them.

Renée tried to look at hers the same way he looked at his. Now that she wasn’t ravenous, the bowl in front of her had lost some of its appeal. It wasn’t the salve to her desperation anymore. It turned back into more strange food from this strange, new world.

Their hands touched as they put out their cigarettes in the ashtray between them. MacCready laced his fingers with hers and gave them a squeeze before he let go.

That feeling hadn’t changed since the bombs, that rush. Blood still boiled the same. Nerves still crackled like lightning.

Renée took a deep breath.

Maybe the lingering sourness would never go away. A pre-war relic, she would always be spoiled. She’d known the real Earth; RJ and most everyone else only knew Hell.

“This is shaping up to be the best day of my life,” MacCready said with a mouth full of noodles.

She slurped up some of hers through the steam. Renée couldn’t deny a certain comfort they brought. They were warm, hearty; and razorgrain added something exquisite that didn’t exist before.

Even taking their time, it wasn’t long before they were lighting cigarettes again over emptied bowls. RJ took hold of her hand and played with her fingers as they smoked.

“How long has it been since your last date?” He was absolutely smug about it.

“Is that what this is?”

“I didn’t ask you about this one. I asked you about the last one.”

She rolled her eyes, grinning, “Oh, you know. Over 220 years. But who’s counting?”

“No,” he chuckled, “That’s not what I meant. Before that stuff.”

“That stuff?” she laughed, “You mean the global, nuclear apocalypse and being cryogenically frozen?”

“Yeah.”

A cloud of smoke left her lips, “Do married dates count?”

“Of course they count!”

“Hmmmm… It was before we knew about Shaun. Actually… just a little before we found out. We went out to the drive-in.” She paused, laughing bitterly, “If I’d known that would be our last date—Hell, my very last trip to the movies!—I wouldn’t have fallen asleep.”

RJ’s face went a bit dark.

“Oh, fuck,” she realized, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking about how—You know… Falling asleep and… and all that. Unless you weren’t even thinking about!—And now I’m bringing it up…”

He chuckled, “Hey, don’t worry about me. I can handle it, talking about what happened. Now that you know, I probably won’t stop talking about it. No, I was just thinking about how I—”

He thought for a moment and continued after a drag, “I understand it. That last day with Lucy… the two of us kept fighting. It was something really dumb; how my manners and language were a bad influence on Duncan, other small things I can’t really remember… Whether it was warm for the season! But really, it was just because we were hungry and tired.”

Renée nodded thoughtfully and ashed her cigarette, “Funny how that happens. It doesn’t matter how much you love someone. Eventually, everybody’s gotta sleep.”

Their laughter overtook all other sounds in the heart of the crowded marketplace. Their animated joy stuck out like radioactive material in the obsidian-black night, but no one turned their heads. The way their hands lightly rested on each other’s thighs marked their little sphere as too intimate to interrupt. Even catching a glance of the expressions in their eyes felt like a violation.

They lit another cigarette instead of ordering more noodles. MacCready pulled out a bottle of bourbon they’d found earlier from his pack to pass between them.

The sun started to dip before he leaned in and whispered, “Where can I get you alone?”

*                       *                       *                       *                       *                       *

MacCready hadn’t been inside Renée’s Diamond City house since the night she bought it. The shack was an impulse purchase she’d immediately regretted, something Renée did just because she could. Just because she went from someone who lost everything to someone who could throw away 5,000 caps just to lighten her pockets, and she needed something tangible and external to prove how far she’d come.

It was a tomb then, packed with a dead man’s furniture. Their first steps into its threshold disturbed layers of dust like piles of snow. No one had been in there since its previous owner disappeared years ago. The mayor never bothered to have it cleaned before he sold it. Just like Kellog’s house, it sat locked and untouched.

Contained, locked, undisturbed; these all meant one thing—safety. After months of watching each other’s backs, they finally had security beyond themselves and each other; walls with locked doors that only they had the keys to, a solid roof, and Diamond City security outside. They also had two stories of space to spread out in and the chance to sleep alone. Renée stretched out on the dodgy bed. MacCready took the beat-up couch on the floor below.

All that space in the dark. Alone.

Renée called down for him pretty quickly, and MacCready went right to her side without any hesitation. Back-to-back again in the dead man’s bed, they were finally able to sleep that night.

Everything about today was different.

They crossed the threshold with their hearts in their throats, having come this time solely for the purpose of sharing the same bed and each other within it. The moment that the front door was shut, everything they’d ever held back was expressible, even promised.

“Oh, woah! You did all this? Since when?!”

Renée laughed it off, “It’s just a side project. Nick and Piper sometimes help out too.”

The house itself had transformed just as much as their intentions. The whole place was completely gutted and renewed.

“Just a side project,” he repeated, mocking her in awe. “It’s amazing!”

“Nah.”

MacCready took his hat off. Then he shook his head as if he had long, flowing hair instead of his short crop. He ran his fingers through it, scratching his scalp along the way.

Renée always watched him do that whenever they were about to settle in for the night. He did it reliably, like a signal marking their territory. It wasn’t a unique gesture. Plenty of people took their hats off in similar ways. It wasn’t even a sign that he was relaxed. His back rarely faced the door; his gun stayed nearby. Just something he did out of habit.

This time with an uncharacteristically huge smile on his face.

“You have lights! And art! And a kitchen! That’s a whole kitchen!”

Renée chuckled at the way his voice cracked with excitement, “Yes, it is. You know what else it has?”

“What?”

“Indoor plum—”

“INDOOR PLUMBING?!”

“And—”

“And?!”

She couldn’t help but match that smile of his, “Hot—”

“No!”

“—water.”

“Shut up! No!”

“Yes,” she laughed.

“You’re crazy!”

Still laughing, she unlaced her boots and asked him to do the same.

“We should shower,” she suggested as they lined up their shoes by the door.

“Oh, you had me at ‘hot water’!”

Renée led the way, stripping off her clothes and leaving them in a trail along the floor to be picked up later. Everything she took off, he took off too. Socks left their bodies first, then bits of armor. They were both topless by the time the faucet started running. Their pants were the last to go.

They hadn’t kissed since the alley, but that was remedied the moment their heads hit the flow of water. It was breathless, gasping. Their lips made chaos of time. They’d only crossed that line this morning, but the feeling was ancient like meeting again across lives. Every touch was the very first and the very last. They had so much to make up for.

“Gross!”

“Eeew!”

Streaks of dirt ran down their faces like mascara on a rough night.

Renée was horrified, “But we took baths yesterday!—Oh god!”

MacCready caught her train of thought from the panicked look in her eyes, “Relax. I would have tasted it on your neck. No, this has gotta be from all that fresh Boston air on the walk over.”

“The walk you insisted on us taking?”

“It got us here, didn’t it?”

Renée smiled, “Guess it was worth it.”

She positioned her face under the water, eyes shut tight against the flow. MacCready was glued to the way the water bounced off her cheekbones and ran down her lips. The dirt washed away, leaving her cool, brown skin rich and fresh. He never let himself really, truly see her before, and the sight of her now hit his heart like a view of the ocean.

“You’re—”

She shook her head, stepping out from under the faucet, “I’ve got facewash somewhere.”

MacCready stepped under the flow while Renée leaned half-out of the curtain.

“Codsworth made these,” she said while his eyes were still shut.

“Made what?” he asked, and the water rushed into his mouth, which he instinctively spat out.

“RJ!”

Laughing, he stepped out from the faucet and wiped the water off his pink face, “Sorry! I didn’t mean to!”

“You just spit all over me!”

“What did Codsworth make?” he asked, laughter still dying out.

“What didn’t he make? We’ve got facewash, soap, shampoo, and moisturizers for both the skin and hair.”

“Skin and hair?” he teased, “Ol’ Butler Bot’s been busy.”

“Yeah, well, after 220 years of waiting around, he’s picked up a new hobby or two.”

They took turns scrubbing and rinsing their faces with Codsworth’s cleanser. It had a refreshing minty quality to it that made them both astounded he’d ever been kicked out of a town. Robot or not, this was art. But such an outcome was also plain and predictable; bigotry was never based on anything real.

Renée grabbed the shampoo after putting the bottle of facewash away. It came in a solid bar like soap, and its creamy color nicely complimented the lighter skin under her hands. MacCready always found them unbelievably soft. No matter how many times they picked up a gun, the way they felt defied logic. Not that he had a lot of experience touching her hands. Not yet. The sight of them now possessed him with an impulse to tear that bar out of her grip and press her smooth palm against his face. Then kiss her fingers one by one.

“Bend down,” she told him.

He lowered his head, ready for anything. She ran her hands though his wet hair, lathering it.

“Oooh, that’s nice.”

Renée chuckled, “Have you ever had your hair washed before? I mean—By another person?”

“No. You?”

She nodded even though he couldn’t see it. Her hair, now thoroughly soaked through, bounced with loose, dripping curls.

“By my mother when I was a kid. And then every time I went to the salon,” she answered.

“God this feels good.”

“Not even before a cut?”

“Always cut my own hair. I even did Lucy and Duncan’s.”

“Wow. Impressive.”

“Don’t lie.”

“I’m not!” she giggled.

When she took her hands away from his scalp, he straightened up and shook his head like a dog. Speckles of suds flew everywhere.

“You’re next,” he was barely audible over her shrieking laughter.

MacCready’s hands were strong and covered her whole head. She was going to tell him to make sure to really get into her roots, but she didn’t have to. The same focus and concentration he had through a scope, he took to her coils.

“How do I compare?” he asked, a cocky smirk in his tone.

Renée couldn’t help but cackle, “Compared to who? My mother? Or the women at the salon?”

“I don’t know. If you tell me I’m not as good as Ethel or Tiffany…”

“Ethel and Tiffany?” she laughed, “Why is that their names?”

“Old world names,” he shrugged.

They were too hysterical to help each other out with the conditioner. Every time MacCready started to touch her hair, he pretended to be Tiffany, and Renée kept doubling over from the joke. They had to scrub and rinse it out of their own hair.

She grabbed a washcloth when they were done.

“We’re not sharing that, are we?”

“Obviously not, RJ,” she rolled her eyes, “Turn around.”

“What? You’re going to wash me now?”

“That’s the idea, smartass.”

“Nah, uh, ladies first,” he took the sudsy cloth out of her hand, “You turn around.”

MacCready’s touch was rough, but thorough. He started with the back of her neck and went up behind her ears before moving on to her shoulders.

“Arm’s up,” he told her, and scrubbed her underarms as she lifted them. It tickled and she broke into squealing breathlessness. She felt him grow a bit behind her as she squirmed against him, a thickness starting to poke her bottom.

He brought the cloth down Renée’s spine next. One, slow stroke followed by a kiss to her shoulder, and she let out a long sigh. He meticulously attended to each part of her back, washing from left to right, top to bottom. Then he took the same level of attentiveness to her arms. One at a time, he wrapped them in the sudsy cloth before dragging it all the way down to her fingertips.

“The trick is getting under your fingernails,” he said scrubbing them, “Dirt likes to hide under there.”

“Oh, does it?” she chuckled.

MacCready washed his along with hers. Holding her hands as he scrubbed them, he traveled from her fingertips to his.

“Can’t wait for me to do that?”

“Not with what I have planned.”

“Really? And what would that be?”

“You’ll see.”

His confidence seemed to vanish when he asked her to turn around so that he could wash her other side. Renée noticed his eyes dart down.

He guiltily looked back up, “You ready?”

She snickered, “You like my boobies, RJ?”

His shock of laughter ricocheted boldly across the tile walls, echoing around them before he decided to play along, “I do, but they’re not nearly as nice as mine.”

The army had beaten the silly stick out of Nate. Renée was so used to his disgruntled reactions that time seemed to split out of MacCready’s playfulness. She found herself falling so easily into something familiar, affectionately provoking the man who made her melt. But RJ’s responses were so different. Not better, not worse. Just different, and she saw the moment play out both as what it was and what it wasn’t.

MacCready’s nervousness seemed to disappear when he brought the cloth over her throat and collarbone. Renée could feel her pulse race up by her ears. Then his hand moved over her heart and a calm rushed over her. A sigh came out like a half-sob.

“You okay?” His eyes and expression were tender with concern.

She nodded, “Just feels really nice.”

“I like it too.”

She smiled; her eyes still closed.

“Um, can I…?” he asked, staring at her breasts.

She caught his gaze, “Go ahead, RJ.”

“Man! I’ve thought about doing this—I mean!”

Her face already hurt from laughing so much, “It’s okay. I’ve thought about it too.”

“Then, um…” he brought the cloth over one and rubbed his hand over it.

“You feeling me up, MacCready? Or cleaning me?”

“Both,” he chuckled.

He took his time on each breast, and then brought an equal amount of care to her waist. When he finished washing her belly, he got on his knees and kissed the stretch marks adorning her hips.

“That’s dangerous,” she sighed.

“Nuh uh. Not yet.”

He rubbed the cloth all over her hips before bringing it between them.

“You ready?” he asked looking up at her.

She grabbed a fistful of his wet, clean hair, “Do it.”

He pulled the cloth between her legs, tenderly scrubbing every detail. She couldn’t help but laugh.

“You ever have anyone do this for you?”

“No,” she admitted, “It’s kind of weird. But I don’t mind you doing it.”

Still kneeling, he scrubbed her thighs next. RJ kissed her knees when he finished them, before moving onto her calves. Then he lifted her feet up one by one and even got between her toes.

“Not having your stinky feet in my sheets tonight.”

“I could easily kick you in the face right now, you know.”

“But you won’t.”

She almost fell backwards pretending to try. He caught her as she started to slip.

RJ saved the best for last, “Show me that a—spin around.”

She obliged, “Is this situation not explicit enough yet for you to curse in?”

“Not yet.”

Renée felt the smack of the wet rag bounce off her ass and gasped.

“Shit! Was that okay? I mean—Shoot was that okay?”

She wiggled her hips, “Do it again.”

She felt it hit the other side.

MacCready scrubbed each of her cheeks individually before getting between them. And once he got between them, he seemed to never want to leave.

“You good back there?”

“Uh… too good.”

You could hear her stupid grin in her tone, “I must be pristine enough now to eat off of.”

“And good enough to.”

His words and the ragged way they came out bewitched her.

“You can put your face closer if you like.”

She felt his nose brush against her cheek and caught the groan in his throat.

“You like my ass, RJ?”

“Yes.”

She smiled, feeling like a femme fatale from one of Nate’s movies, “I bet you want to eat it.”

“I do. Please, boss. Please let me taste your ass.”

He said “Boss” like it was the name of a deity. It made Renée want him to pin her down and tear her to pieces.

“Go ahead, merc. Eat it.”

His tongue went right for her asshole with a high, desperate moan. Renée braced herself against the wall and spread her legs apart as he licked around it and sucked. He squeezed her cheeks in his hands, crushing his face between them.

His moaning and gasping under the flow of water was driving her mad, “I need you RJ.”

It took him a moment to pull away, “You’ve gotta wash me off first. But I guess… Since I like ya, I could let you cum.”

“Please,” she begged, arching her back.

He resumed his task, bringing his fingers to her front. He teased them along her folds as he indulged in her ass. She felt so good he bit her ass on the cheek and moaned.

His fingertips found her stiffened clit and traced circles over and around it. He resisted the urge to feel inside of her until she pleaded more. When he finally just had to, Renée cried out with relief.

“More!” she demanded again.

He added another finger.

“More!”

And another. In fact, he ran out of fingers before she ran out of demands. RJ pumped in and out of her with his whole fist as his other hand teased her clit. His tongue played with her asshole and licked up and down her crevice.

He didn’t stop until she screamed and clenched around him.

He held her steady until she regained her balance, her knees having gone weak. She turned around. He was still kneeling, and she was still shaking.

“Your turn,” she panted.

They laughed as he stood up and Renée changed out the washcloth. MacCready held his mouth open under the water and rinsed it out a few times.

“I want you to kiss me,” he explained when he caught her watching.

Renée could barely even think, so she stole RJ’s scrubbing technique starting with his back. His shoulders somehow seemed even wider without his clothes on.

“You’ve got moles.”

“Guilty.”

“I like them. One, two, three… four, five of them. They look pretty on you.”

“Pretty? Me?”

“Yeah. I said what I said.”

He chuckled, “Thank you.”

“In fact… You’ve got a lot of pretty things on you, RJ. For example…”

Renée liked how she could tell from the back of his head that he had his brow raised.

She reached around to his front and grabbed hold of what she was looking for, “I think your dick is one of the prettiest ones I’ve ever seen.”

She could feel it pulse in her grip, throbbing as thickly as the heart inside her chest. Her breasts pressed into his back, and she could feel the echo of his own heartbeat under his skin.

MacCready’s body tensed when she let go of it. She resumed scrubbing his back.

Renée cleared her throat, but neither of them talked. She just kept washing him in the same way he washed her. Top to bottom, chest to toes. Until there she was on her knees, face-to-face with his cock as the water beat down over her head.

“All clean.”

MacCready had a hungry, far-away expression on his strained face as he ran his hands through her wet hair. His eyes rolled back as she took hold of his shaft and placed her lips at its head. She opened her mouth, and he let himself be consumed.

He groaned and gave into it a bit before lifting Renée off her knees.

“I can’t get enough of this,” he said through a mouthful of kissing her.

“I need you, RJ.”

“Say it again.”

“I need you.”

They were slippery, but MacCready still managed to lift her up into a similar embrace from this morning. With her legs wrapped around his hips, he guided himself between her thighs and dove inside her. She greeted him with a high, ecstatic whine and a gasp.

He leaned in for another kiss. It was his new favorite thing, rutting deep within her while messing with her tongue.

“I want more,” Renée moaned into him.

He groaned from the frustration of leaving her lips, “Wanna get on the floor?”

She nodded and he carefully let her down after pulling out.

Renée got on all fours with her ass up and felt MacCready catch it in his strong grip.

“Get back inside me,” she begged.

“You really want me?”

“I want you deep, please.”

She gasped as he put in his full length, with his big, rough hands wrapped around her hips adding power to his thrust. She could feel his balls clap against her as he continued to bash himself into her again and again. It shocked her how much she liked that. It sent waves and rushes of blood from her stomach to her toes.

“Fuck me,” she shouted over the water. It echoed, bouncing between the tiles.

He slowed down and she groaned.

“Cum for me and I’ll go fast again.”

It was already happening before he asked. When he felt her tighten and pulse, he sped up.

Renée’s head felt the same as it did after a second hit of psycho jet. Nothing in all her fantasies of him could have prepared her for the feeling of an orgasm being torn out of her right on top of a waning one the way it was happening now.

“I’m still cumming,” she squealed in a voice she didn’t recognize.

He just moaned, and that echoed through the shower too.

Renée felt incredibly stupid when the next wave came on. Nothing of herself was left but a sensation that compared to having her soul sucked out of her body through his cock. No thoughts. No sense of being. Just a vague sense that if he stopped now, it would kill her.

“I’m cumming,” she heard him shout, “Oh god, I’m cumming!”

The sound of his voice was far from her consciousness. Consumed with sharp pleasure, her being was boiling inside her center and being torn apart like a star meeting a black hole.

It was like she could feel his climax on top of hers. Like the bruise of two good aches stacked on top of each other.

The sensations finally let go of them. He fell back onto the shower floor in a daze, and she settled onto his lap. They sat there holding each other under the water with the best kind of overwhelm.

Finally, MacCready was able to speak, “Can we get out now? Kinda getting sick of all this water.”

Renée kissed him in agreement, laughing her mind back into her head.

*                       *                       *                       *                       *                       *

“Codsworth make this too?” MacCready asked as Renée rubbed lotion on his back. He was lying on his stomach on her brand-new bed, in what was a completely different loft than the one from before. It was well-lit, clean, and colorful; with Grognak posters covering the walls and bright green plants in every possible corner. She straddled him, still naked, running her hands all over the length of his back.

“No, um… Actually, this one was a… a gift.”

Her response was uncharacteristically cagey, but she sounded more shy than secretive. MacCready wasn’t about to pass that up.

“From?” he poked.

“A certain… a certain singer at the Third Rail.”

“Magnolia?!”

“Don’t start!”

She could see his heaves of laughter through his back.

“You fucked Maggie?”

“Wait, she lets you call her Maggie?”

“Not to her face.”

Renée playfully smacked him between shoulder blades. It was gentle, but he acted like it wasn’t.

“Ow!” he laughed.

“Oh no, my hands slipped!” she said unconvincingly, “They’re just so lotion-y.”

“Uh, huh.”

“Wait, did you fuck her too? Did we fuck the same person?”

“I tried,” he shrugged, which from his current position was more like a squeeze of his shoulders.

Renée laughed, “Damn do I have better game than you, RJ?”

He twisted around and pulled her squealing down onto the bed. Again, he found himself all over her mouth like it was a drug.

“Holy shit, where have you been?” he asked breathlessly.

“Language!” she teased, “And right the fuck in front of you. This whole time!”

“Sharing the same bed,” he laughed.

“You’re an idiot, RJ.”

“I really am!”

“No! You’re not!” she pouted.

“Okay. I’m not.”

She smiled again, “That’s better.”

Looking at him like that, she found words that felt like a betrayal. She was only supposed to find those words while lost in different-colored eyes. They were the only thing on her mind, the only thing she wanted to say. But they felt like spitting on the dead, so she held her tongue.

MacCready knew her better than that, knew there was always a story behind her knitted brows.

“What’s up?” he asked, suddenly serious.

She smirked without any levity in it. Then she just shrugged. MacCready took the hint to just sit there and hold her.

“Moving on…" she started hesitantly, “Moving on means not holding back with each other for the sake of the past, right?”

“Right. I’d say so.” He didn’t know where this was going, but he was patient.

“And that doesn’t erase them? Moving on?”

Something in her tone made him think of Duncan. It shared a quality with the way he’d ask if there were monsters in the night.

He thought for a moment, searching for the best answer.

“I don’t see how anything ever could.”

Renée buried her face in his chest. She groaned a few times, and lightly banged her head against his bones before speaking again, “The things I want to tell you feel like cheating even though I saw him die.”

“I think I know what you mean.”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t have to say anything before you’re ready to, but can you tell me one thing?”

“Hmm?”

“Is it good or bad?”

“Good.”

“Good.” He breathed a sigh of relief that made her head lift and go down with his chest.

“I just… um…” Renée bit her lip, “And I’m not saying that I’ve never been satisfied or that Nate was bad or anything. Okay?”

“Uh, okay.”

“I’ve just… I never… I don’t think I’ve ever cum that hard before. Like I’ve done it, but I’ve never felt that.”

She looked up to find the most disgustingly smug expression on his lips.

“Oh, fuck off with that,” she warned him.

“What?” he was grinning so hard that his voice was strained with self-satisfaction.

She just lowered her eyes.

He softened his, “Hey, come here.”

His hand consumed the side of her face and she shut her glare with contentment.

“I don’t know if what I felt was more intense or just different, but I know I haven’t felt anything like that since Lucy. And you two are impossible to compare.”

“Lucky. I can’t help comparing you and Nate.”

“That’s okay too. A little scary, but okay.”

She chuckled, “You really don’t compare us?”

“It’s not that I can’t, it’s—Okay I know this sounds silly, but I don’t compare you because it would break my heart. Not because you’re better or worse! Not anything like that. But because it’s… It’s not fair. You can love Nate forever, and I can love Lucy forever, but they’re not here. We get to feel this, and be this together, and they’re just dead.”

Renée adjusted her arms to hold him tighter. They stayed there like that for a while, holding onto each other as a tether against cosmic injustice.

She spoke again to lighten the moment, “Magnolia was my first here. After Nate.”

“Maybe it was the blue vault suit.”

“Oh, are you not gonna let this go now? That I’m better than you?”

“It’s tight in all the right places.”

“RJ!”

MacCready sat up, bringing Renée into his lap. They were both naked, their cleaned skin still drinking up the lotion they’d put on after their shower.

He held the back of her neck and spoke so close to her lips that they touched on certain words, “And after Magnolia?”

“Just some guy.”

She’d save the story about Pickman for later. It was a long one, and she was enjoying the way he was so close to her mouth too much to interrupt it.

“And then?”

“And then you.”

The way he finally grabbed her lips was hungry.

“And then?” he asked again.

Her eyes were soft, “And then just you.”

“Yeah?” his voice had a desperate hitch.

“Yeah.”

“Say it.”

“Just you, RJ. Only you.”

“For how long?” he asked, kissing all over her neck.

“Forever,” she admitted, “Is that crazy?”

“Yes. But I like it.”

It was their first time in a bed. Not a pantry wall or a shower. It was the first time he threw her legs over his shoulders and heard her scream his name into his chest.

It was the second time she came that hard.

Afterwards, only MacCready could speak, and then it was only one word, “Cigarettes?”

The terrace was the best part of Renée’s impulse purchase. All the buildings in Diamond City were ugly, but seeing rooftops sparkle in the city-lit darkness always had some kind of magic to it. No matter where you were or how good the view.

Plus, it gave her a place to smoke.

“We smoke inside all the time.”

“Yeah, but not anywhere that’s ours. This is my house. I bought it. We smoke outside.”

“Woooow,” he took a drag, “Take off your shoes, smoke outside… You’ve got rules.”

“I do.”

“And here I thought you were the lawless type.”

“I am! People are complex, RJ.”

He laughed.

Then he wrapped an arm around her and said, “I wish we never had to go.”

He felt her nod against his shoulder.

“Hey, Renée?”

She looked up at him with her cat-like blue eyes, a trail of smoke leaving her lips, “RJ?”

He kissed her once before he spoke, “I love you. Big time.”

She smiled, “Big time?”

“Huge,” he grinned.

“I love you big time back.”

*                       *                       *                       *                       *                       *

They fell into a pattern for the next few precious days. From the bed to the terrace, and the terrace to the bed, they dragged each other into a blissful oblivion.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t in the stars for them to stay. Reality waited by the door. It hovered on the welcome mat, haunting their ecstatic pause.

One night, smoking on the terrace, MacCready opened the door and let it in.

“Daisy, uh… Daisy said I could leave with one of her caravans to visit the homestead.”

“When—?”

He took a drag and ashed his cigarette, “Transmission came through today. Duncan’s doing great.”

MacCready’s voice got caught in his throat at the end of that sentence. Happiness and relief welled in his eyes, as did all his pent-up worry.

Of course Renée was happy, ridiculously so, but she’d literally killed for the moment RJ was having, and would kill again as many times as it took to have it herself. They knew Duncan was okay, and where he was. He was safe, cared for. MacCready had the chance to see him, hold him again. All while they still knew next to nothing about Shaun.

Renée spoke over the envy lodged in her throat, “That’s so great!”

They embraced and cried, celebrating that one of their children was going to make it.

“You need to be there, RJ.”

“I know. Would you—?”

She shook her head, “We’re almost ready to storm Ft. Hagen. I’d love to! But I have to be here.”

“Wish I could be here for that.”

“I know, me too.”

“I’m sorry I won’t be.”

“Please don’t apologize. It’s Duncan.”

He squeezed her tight, “You’re going to find Shaun.”

For the first time, she let herself feel her full fear. Her voice trembled, “We’ve already waited so long.”

Her cries were muffled by his jacket where she buried her face. MacCready held Renée while she broke apart. Months of terror, uncertainty, and searching came crashing out of her in hyperventilating cascades. His emotions escaped with hers, and they stood there purging every feeling until they had nothing left inside.

He got them water when they calmed down. Then they sat down and smoked until the sun came up.

One more day together, and then they’d make the trek back to Goodneighbor.

“Maybe when I’m back, we’ll be able to figure everything out for the four of us,” MacCready said as they sat there on her roof, “You, me, Duncan, and Shaun.”

Renée squeezed his hand, “I hope so.”

[thebibliomancer]

Essential Avengers: Avengers #306: There is a FIRE Down Below

August, 1989

Can even the SUB-MARINER withstand the brutal attack of the LAVA MEN?

Well, he's got a type advantage?

Attacking him in the ocean was maybe not the best idea.

I don't know why the disembodied Avengers heads are so distraught that Namor is beating up Lava Men. Maybe they're upset because they can't see his abs from where they are...

Anyway.

Last time on Avengers: Captain America unilaterally declared every Avenger is an Avenger and there's only one Avengers team, the one he's in charge of.

Everyone was fairly supportive of this.

Except for the Lava Men who hoisted Avengers Island into the sky and then trapped Captain America, Black Panther, Thor, She-Hulk, and Giglamesh in a lava ball and rolled them into the ocean.

This time: the ocean.

Namor is swimming around in the ocean, just enjoying his life, hanging out with his finny friends, definitely not looking for his dead monster wife's monster babies at all, when some dolphins tell him that there's bad shit going on with the Avengers.

So even though Namor was JUST THERE, he turns around to check things out. Even though the water gets oddly warm. Did someone pee the entire ocean?

No?

It's just the giant column of lava, still glowing cherry hot despite all this ocean around? A flagrant violation of physics? Okay.

The column is made up of just tons of lava men and many break off the column to attack Namor.

He punches them a lot, declaims about how cool he is, smacks some Lava Men with a Lava Man, and swims around really fast to make a whirlpool.

But despite his sea-strengthened limbs, Namor notices what the Avengers noticed last time. There's a lot of the Lava Men and they tend to just reform from damage.

Then the Rock Sphere o' Avengers drops into the ocean. It disrupts the whirpool Namor was working on. And so distracts him that the Lava Men are able to dog pile on and engulf him.

The pile of Lava Men with Namor in the center walks over and starts fusing with the giant stone sphere.

Meanwhile, in the sphere, the Avengers are still hammering away at the insides.

But even though the inner layer is rock and the outer layer is rock, there's a gooey lava middle layer.

Every time the Avengers manage to make a hole, lava oozes in and hardens.

Then a hole opens up by itself and poops out Namor.

He's all pink and dehydrated and unconscious.

I assume the Lava Men pile steamed him before tossing him in with the others.

Thor jams his arm in the Namor hole before it has a chance to close but it just pinches shut on his shoulder.

Then as if it that weren't bad enough, the sphere starts rolling again.

Thor gets mad and breaks his arm free. Which creates a big crack in the prison. Which is immediately sealed shut by lava.

All in all, things aren't going super great for this new Avengers group.

Up in Avengers Island, Jarvis tries to call for help.

The good thing about Captain America declaring all Avengers is Avengers is that you can just call in more help when a giant lava spire lifts your HQ out of the ocean.

The West Coast Avengers are still returning to the west coast from the meeting. They make a big U-turn back towards the East.

Also, various interpersonal dramas make it hard to pin down when in the West Coast Avengers this is set.

Hawkeye already ragequit and took over the Great Lakes Avengers. Tigra is in the Quinjet with the other West Coast Avengers but she doesn't seem taken over by cat instincts. Vision is his traditional red, not all white. Everyone has metal should pads for some reason.

Its weird that the Avengers books can't keep consistent when the same Byrne is writing them both.

Back with Jarvis, the room starts tilting.

He turns on the outside surveillance cameras that can even scan under the base despite it being an idea.

Now that the Lava Men have the Avengers, the ones making up the giant pillar are crumbling away.

Why, Avengers Island is probably going to fall soon!

In the Orb o' Avengers, Gilgamesh goes non-responsive in order to go into an Eternal coma to better withstand the rigors of orb life.

She-Hulk points out that Captain America and Black Panther don't have any powers so how the heck are they doing in the hazardous orb environment?

Cap non-answers by just saying "I'll worry about myself when there's time, She-Hulk."

Since the orb seems to have come to a stop, Cap asks Thor to try to punch an exist if he's up to it.

Thor cautions that it'll probably be wasted effort. But "Thor is ever ready to try anything, Avenger!"

Thor starts punching a hole in the stone, the stone starts sealing over his arm. Same old story. This time, though, She-Hulk joins in.

Thor will punch a hole through the stone. She-Hulk will punch the rock so it can't reform between Thor punches.

And with this strategy, they make progress.

She-Hulk suddenly realizes that if they're still underwater, punching through is going to lead to a rush of seawater into their predicament.

Thor hears her concerns but also proceeds anyway, punching his fist out into free air.

So they're on dry land, if they can only get out to it!

Then Thor gets consumed by the juicy lava filling. Not that its dangerous to him. Remember the Lava Men story this is referencing? Thor just sank into lava with his usual stoic pout.

Thor tells the others not to save him and lets himself be pulled into the lava. And Captain America backs up his decision because Thor is never foolhardy.

OH YEAH

His big plan was just to let himself be drawn to the center of the orb's wall and then go ham.

Meanwhile, some new plot thread.

An old man loses track of his time while reading the newspaper and then old man ambles over to check the science machine he's been working on.

A science machine that could leave a crater where Cresskill is supposed to be if old man messes up.

That's a potent science machine.

Why not get into potato clocks, sir?

Meanwhile, the Avengers find themselves deep within the bowels of the Earth. The Earth has so many bowels and yet does so little digestion.

Captain America points out that as deep as they appear to be, the pressure should turn them into primary colored goo but She-Hulk tells Cap not to sweat the science. She's more worried about how Namor is all burned and dehydrated.

So Thor bonks Mjolnir on the ground and summons a rainstorm.

He can do that. The weather is his friend.

(And really, the only thing that stopped him from doing it sooner was not enough open air.)

Namor instantly rouses because comic book people with water based metabolism rehydrate like sponges. And he instantly flies into a rage based on the last thing he remembers. But Captain America tells him to clam down and Namor instantly listens to his ol' Nazi punching buddy.

The Prince of Abslantis asks where the heck they are and Captain America reiterates his observation that they seem like they're pretty deep into the Earth and yet the pressure hasn't turned them into goo.

Then Jinku, Witchdoctor of the Lava Men shows up and tells them that they're not goo because he chooses for them not to be goo.

That's nice of him. Although he also calls them his prisoners.

(In a funny bit, he tells them not to bother trying to remember if they've met him before because they won't remember him, only for Captain America to instantly go "I remember you." Jinku isn't reading his audience very well.)

Captain America says he thought the Avengers and Lava Men settled their beef but Jinku tells them there's new beef.

WHY, THE AVENGERS HAVE BROUGHT UPON THE DESTRUCTION OF THE LAVA MEN!

Captain America is skeptical because the Avengers haven't interacted with Lava Men for... a while.

So Jinku Explains It All.

Before the Lava Men were Lava Men, they were a subterranean human-ish race called the Gortokians who worshipped a demonic looking god called Cha'sa'dra, "most powerful of the underworld pantheon."

One day, their worship of Cha'sa'dra pays off when the dude himself appears. As a reward for their devotion, Cha'sa'dra turns the Gortokians into immortal men made out of molten stone. Lava Men, you might say.

Cha'sa'dra hung around to enjoy being worshipped. Maybe relatedly, the former Gortokian civilization sank into primitive barbarism. It's gotta be him because there's no other suggested factor.

Anyway, the day came when Cha'sa'dra just fucked off with no explanation.

They got an explanation later. That Cha'sa'dra was summoned by another god (N'astirh) to take part in a war against the surface (Inferno).

The important takeaway is that Cha'sa'dra was one of the nameless demons the Avengers mowed down during their Inferno tie-in issues.

Except, he wasn't nameless. His name was Cha'sa'dra. And whoops, his turn men to lava men spell had no ontological inertia. When he died, the Lava Men lost their lava and their immortality.

Hundreds of former Lava Men instantly died of being way too old. The only ones that survived were Jinku and his acolytes. Thanks to manipulating the magic of Cha'sa'dra, they were protected from instantly aging to death.

But instead of aging, Jinku's acolytes turned to stone. Living but unmoving.

"The process of their minds slowed to such a point ten thousand years might pass before they formed a whole thought!"

Dark.

So Jinku is the last guy both alive and not trapped in a living hell.

Jinku: "This is what you brought to my people, you who call yourselves Avengers! You who consider yourselves champions of all that lives! You slaughtered all but a handful, and condemned the rest to an eternal living death! For this, you deserve no better than agonizing death!" Captain America: "I'm not going to pretend we Avengers were not instrumental in the death of your god... But what you have to understand is that Cha'sa'dra lied to you! He was no great god. He was a minor demon. A tiny part of the horde that attacked." Jinku: "SILENCE! INFIDELS! If there were a punishment greater than death, I would now condemn you to it! I would see your souls writhe in torment till the end of time, for your blasphemy!!"

Telling the truth was not the best policy this time, Cap.

Although, the death of his entire race probably made him unwilling to hear any explanation or excuse.

I think maybe you have to kick him in the lava junk until he calms down.

Anyway, Jinku does have a punishment in mind for the Avengers.

DEATH BY LAVA EXPY OF CHA'SA'DRA!

And since the Avengers were all standing in one easily punched row, he punches them all in a row.

You'd think that this would set Captain America and probably Black Panther on fire. Thank god lava doesn't work like lava in fiction.

Follow @essential-avengers for more of the same of this. But, hey, like, reblog, and comment! I'm lonely down here.

[undeadbanjos]

Jolt-WishShipping OneShot

Yugi couldn’t help but giggle to himself. 

Joey was completely curled into a ball of blankets at this point. One pulled over his head and back, one in his lap on top of a pillow. You could only make out his eyes peeking out towards the screen. 

“Don’t fuckin go in there don’t fuckin go in there.” Joey was scooching back on the couch. Yugi saw a hand sneak out from the blankets and reach for the popcorn bowl. Yugi glanced back at the movie. He’d already seen it in theaters, but Joey didn’t go with him. 

He got a bit sheepish when he-

“SHIT!” The popcorn toppled over and the pile of blankets curled back up. “I fuckin knew that shit was gonna happen and it still fuckin got me.” Yugi sweeped the popcorn back into the bowl with his hand. Most of it just landed on the couch. 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to warn you?” Yugi set the bowl on the table where it’d be safer. 

“Nah I’m fine.” 

“He said from under the blanket.” Yugi shook his head and tugged at the top one. “Come on Joey, we don’t have to finish this if you don’t want to.” “I said I’m-” Outside thunder rumbled and Joey jumped, falling backward off the couch. “Fine,” He grunted.

“Okay let’s at least pause it.” Yugi grabbed the remote and hit the button before pulling Joey up. “C’mon I’ll make you a coffee.” 

“Thanks.” Joey pulled a piece of popcorn out of his hair. “I’ll clean the rest of this up.” Yugi chuckled. 

“Sounds like a plan then.” He padded into the kitchen and set the kettle on the stove to make himself some tea. He then started to work on Joey’s coffee. By the time it started to brew Joey was done cleaning the popcorn and strolled in the kitchen. 

“Okay, so for the record. I wasn’t scared.” Joey shoved his hands in his pockets. “Those movies just know how to get a reaction outta me.” “Mhm.” Yugi grabbed the mugs from the cabinet. “You don’t have to tell me Joey.” He saw him walk up behind him in the reflection of the window. Outside the rain started to fall harder. A bolt of lightning flashed in front of them. 

“Woof.” Joey took a deep breath. “Not my favorite weather.” Yugi frowned, remembering the semifinals of Battle City a few days before.. 

“Mine neither.” He whispered. “I used to like storms.” “Yeah.” Joey mumbled and shrugged as he reached for the kettle that was now steaming. He poured the hot water into one of the mugs for Yugi. “I mean, I didn’t really love ‘em before but now-” He let the sentence taper off. Yugi set a tea bag in his mug and stirred some honey into it. He tried to push out the gut wrenching feeling he got when he saw Joey get struck by lightning. He tried busying himself, making Joey’s coffee for him. The silence was heavy in the air until Joey cleared his throat. “Hey Yug?”

“Yes Joey?” Yugi’s voice cracked and he felt himself blush a bit. Joey smiled softly and took another deep breath. 

“Can I ask ya somethin’ kinda weird?” 

“Sure.” Yugi shrugged. Joey rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Um….when…I got struck….” He looked up at the ceiling and bit his lip. “I think…it…. I think I gotta scar.” 

“Oh.” Yugi raised his eyebrows and frowned. 

“Um…but. But it's…it’s  kinda on my back.” He winced.

“Do you…” Yugi felt his cheeks grow hot,”did you want me to look at it for you?” 

“Um.” Joey looked back at him for a second and averted his gaze. “I don’t really…have a doctor or nothin’ and I didn’t wanna scare Serenity…” Joey scratched his head. “And my pop-”

“It’s okay Joey.” Yugi crossed over and smiled softly. “I can look.” 

“Kay.” Joey took a breath, sounding slightly relieved. “Um…your room?” “Yeah.” Yugi grabbed his mug and nodded towards the stairs. Joey followed, closing the door behind them. He sat his mug down on the desk and paused at the bottom of his shirt.

“Oh yeah I uh…I did get in a scrap earlier today.” 

“What?” “I got bruises from that too, so-” Joey pulled his shirt over his head. “Just so ya know.” 

“Who’d you fight?” “Eddy Fincher.” “Why’d you fight Eddy Fincher?” Yugi furrowed his brow. Joey looked up at the ceiling. “Joey?” He huffed. 

“Does it matter?” He sounded a bit agitated. Yugi raised his hands in defense. 

“No, I guess not.” Yugi raised his eyebrows. “You just normally don’t swing without reason.” Joey looked down at his feet and shrugged. “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. Do you still want me to look?” 

“Yeah.” Joey sighed deeply and turned around. Yugi tried not to gasp. Yes, there was a bruise on his side, but that wasn’t what was so shocking.

Poor choice of words.

It’s almost like Yugi could see the pattern the lightning took in Joey’s body. Branches of scars traveled down his back down past his boxers. It looked like it was fading but still…painful.

“Does it hurt?” Yugi mumbled and stepped closer. 

“Sometimes.” Joey mumbled. “It’s like I’ll just be walkin’ and I get a pain in my arm or something. It’s like…achy…” He turned back to him. “It look bad?” “It looks like they’re going away.” Yugi’s finger hovered over the pattern. “It’s….weirdly beautiful.” That made Joey chuckle as he reached for his shirt. 

“Well that’s a relief.” Joey turned back and looked down at Yugi. “Don’t wanna hurt my good looks.” “That’d take more than a bolt of lightning.” Yugi shut his mouth quickly, a little surprised with himself.

Smooth one partner. 

Shut up. 

Joey cocked his head and grinned down at him. Yugi felt very suddenly that the two of them were really close. He watched Joey’s eyes search his, almost like he was trying to look into his mind. Joey swallowed, and took a shaky breath. 

“Yug?” “Yeah?” Yugi clenched his fists and did his best not to look at Joey’s bare chest. 

“Um…” He bit his lip as if he was trying to gain enough courage to say what he wanted. He blinked a few times as if he’d come to some conclusion in his head.”.....Eddy Fincher was callin’ you a loser.” Joey looked away. “So I kicked his ass.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah.” Joey pulled his shirt back over his head and grabbed his mug. “I didn’t want you to worry bout it.” 

“Okay.” Yugi rubbed his arm as Joey stepped back towards the door. He opened it and nodded towards the stairs.

“Wanna finish that movie?” Joey grinned sheepishly. “Promise I won’t make another mess.” “Don’t make promises you can’t keep Joey.” Yugi patted his arm as he walked past him. He did his best to ignore the jolt he felt at the smallest touch. They got back on the couch and started their movie back up. Joey quickly became a ball of blankets once more. Yugi stared at the screen, but couldn’t watch the movie.

He couldn’t stop thinking about kissing those scars better. 

[ghostiebeech]

Mushy May Day 6 (Cowbell fics): Snow day

Hiiiiii. We are getting a bit behind, but I really like this one.  I wish I could’ve seen this group perform, precious little shits they are.  This one is kinda from the perspective of Ifrit, I love that big boobied bitch sm.  

Rating: General I guess.  There’s cursing and mentions of being *aroused*

Pairing: mentions of just pack love, some Dew/Aether, Cowbell/Mountain, etc.

Characters: Ifrit, Cowbell, Dewdrop, Aether, Mountain, and Zephyr 

Word Count: ~900

Summary: It’s snowing at the ministry and Cowbell wants to go outside now bitch

Like always I did not proof read this so if you see something weird no you didn’t :D

Ifrit was having a rather nice dream when he was awoken to an excited Cowbell jumping in their bed.  The fire ghoul tried to roll over onto his stomach and go back to sleep but the little shit was having none of it. Cowbell delivered a rather forceful slap to Ifrits ass which did not help his current situation one bit.

“Please baby bell, I was having such a nice dream.”

Cowbell delivered a few more light smacks until Ifrit lifted his head to look back at the insistent ghoul.  Cowbell was excitedly pointing out the window at a winter wonderland.  Ifrit could see now the other ghoul was bundled up in an assortment of the pack’s clothes.  A hat knitted by Aether, one of Zephyr’s scarves, and a huge jacket that must be one of Mountain’s.  

“You want to go play, huh?”

Cowbell trilled happily before hopping on the fire ghoul’s bed and began rummaging through his closet to find snow clothes, obviously not wanting to waste another moment. 

Before Ifrit was fully awake, he was in the common room where the rest of the pack were in similar states, bundled with sleepy eyes.  Ifrit could hear Cowbell in Mountain’s bedroom, saving the earth ghoul for last.  It took quite a lot of balls to wake a sleeping giant, but surprisingly Mountain came out of his room, gremlin stuck to his back, with a big smile on his face.  

Cowbell jumped down the Mountain’s back and took off to go outside.  The rest of the pack followed with varying levels of excitement.  By the time Ifrit made it outside, it looked like a stampede had gone over the fresh white snow.  Cowbell was hunched over near the trees adding to a surprisingly already large pile of snowballs.  They looked lovely, cheeks rosy from the cold.  Before Ifrit could admire the ghoul anymore, he was hit square in the face with several snowballs in quick succession.

The culprit, looking about as angelic and innocent as a demon could be with his long hair in two braids under a pink beanie complete with a big pom pom, was Dewdrop.  Ifrit dropped to the ground to prepare his own arsenal, watching the tiny water ghoul run away to hide behind Aether.  Ifrit locked in on his tiny target, but before he threw his snowball, he was hit again in quick succession, this time by Cowbell, who ran to duck behind Mountain.

The snow battle continued as such for about an hour.  Aether and Mountain were unsurprisingly roped into the side of the gremlins. Ifrit really couldn’t help but think how unfair the odds were, four against one.  He called over to Zephyr for aid, but the older air ghoul just shook his head in amusement, preferring to watch the battle from the safety of the doorway as he nursed a cup of tea.  Ifrit finally waved the figurative white flag, “Mercy! Please! It’s too damn cold.”  The fire ghoul fell down to the ground, chest heaving in exertion.  

The gremlins whooped at their great win running over to Ifrit and jumping on him.  Before the ghouls could continue their battle via wrestling, Zephyr, who had gone back inside a while before, yelled to the rest of the pack, “Inside now, little devils!” Cowbell and Dew groaned in disappointment before being bribed with hot chocolate.  

True to his word, Zephyr had steaming cups of hot chocolate ready for everyone as they came inside, shedding their wet outer clothes.  As they finished their drinks, the ghouls went back to their respective rooms to change into warm comfy clothes.  The pack found themselves back in the common room, throwing on a movie and cuddling.  

Ifrit found himself at the middle of the ghoul pile, bracketed by Dewdrop and Cowbell who both wrapped themselves around Ifrit’s warm body.  The two smaller ghouls were spooned by Aether and Mountain respectively.  Obviously exhausted by their victory, the two smaller ghouls quickly fell asleep, purring happily.  They were followed quickly by the two sleepy giants who were curled around them.  Ifrit himself did not sleep right away, preferring to bask in his love for his pack.

Dewdrop had his head shoved into Ifrit’s pec, lovely hair falling over his face.  Ifrit reached over, gently tucking the soft locks behind his ear.  Cowbell was subconsciously kneading into Ifrit’s side.  Behind Dewdrop, Aether had his head shoved into the back of Dewdrops, happily suffocating in the smaller ghoul’s hair.  Mountain was completely curled around Cowbell, snoring loudly.  

Ifrit could feel tears welling up in his eyes.  He tried to quickly wipe them away when he made eye contact with Zephyr who was watching the group.  Zephyr himself looked upon the group with a mixture of love and sadness.  Ifrit knew he was thinking the same thing as him.  This would not last forever.  Ifrit and Zephyr knew they were temporary band ghouls and any day could be their last.  

Zephyr smiled at Ifrit, walking around the group to lay down at their heads.  Ifrit leaned back, resting his head on Zephyr’s soft belly.  Gentle claws found their way into the fire ghouls hair.

“I am going to miss this.”  Ifrit could feel tears start to swell again, overwhelmed with his affection for his pack.  He let out a wet laugh, “I would let those two beat the shit out of me with snowballs every damn day if it meant I could keep them forever.”

“Everything must come to an end, firebird…”  Zephyr reached down, cupping Ifrit’s cheek, “It’s what makes these moments even more precious.  It makes each one of you all the more precious.”

Special thanks to @forlorn-crows​ for compiling the list of prompts.

[gfguren]

amber!!! am dropping by to wish you a weekend that is full of light and love 🥹🫧💗

i am back w my curious sel glassies 🤓 (pls feel free not to answer if uncomfy) — what’s a habit you’re most proud of? what habit of katsuki’s is one you admire?

sellie!!! light and love, pls you're sooooo sweet!! 💕 and omg pls my good habits are so few and far between aksjdhfjh! but! i guess im pretty decent at picking up after myself?? i don't let things pile up, like? i finish eating - immediately put the plate in the sink, i take a book out - put it right back where i found it when im done, those kinds of things?

but with bakugou!!

ah! this is such a fun question, i think about mundane things like this for him all the time. i feel like bakugou has such good habits, king of going to sleep on time, king of sticking to his routines, king of having his shit together - i think it just comes naturally to him and honestly, i'm terribly jealous lol.

i've said he could fix me before as a joke but askjdfhs i'm lowkey highkey serious abt it - i feel like his habits would rub off on you just from being around him.

you forget to eat? good luck with that when he's being noisy as shit in the kitchen - morning, noon and night, makes better food than some 5 star restaurants - at some point, you're stomach starts growling at the sound of pots and plans clinking, almost on command, like you've been conditioned. you struggle with keeping a schedule? good thing he has a great memory and absolutely no qualms about nagging you six ways to sunday.

oh, you're a night owl? not anymore, suddenly you're awake at 6am on a saturday, of your own volition - you're not sure how it happened, when the switch flipped and you began lazily dragging yourself out of bed along side him. maybe it was when you grew familiar with the katsuki shaped warmth beneath your comforter, followed after it when he shuffled out of bed each morning to steam up the bathroom mirror - sometimes he lets you join him, most times you sit on the counter and listen to him grumble about all the things he has to do that day.

or maybe it was because he'd made it a point to kiss you goodbye whenever you bothered to wake up on time, eventually the rest of your day began feeling wrong if he didn't - like it became a habit itself. more than likely though, it's because that's just the way bakugou is, hot temper and can-do attitude so incredibly frustrating at times, but also oddly invigorating. when he says he'll do something, he does it - makes you think it really is just that easy. (it isn't of course) as much as he tries to convince you that it is - but it does make you want to try.

and as for the habit i most admire! i think one of his most admirable habits (to me!) is how well prepared he is. bakugou is always thinking ahead, prepared for anything, always and (as good as he is at coming up with solutions on the fly) i feel like he would never leave the house unprepared or ill-equipped. of course this applies to his work life - lays his costume and equipment out before bed, eats a healthy breakfast each morning so it doesn't affect his performance on patrol, etc.

but it also translates to his home life and relationships. like? you're on your way to spend a night out with him, and you already know he's headed for the closet, off to grab a coat for himself (and for you), even if it's mid summer, even if the weather is fine - because what if it gets cold, and what if the car breaks down, and what if both of your phones stop working - and you laugh at him sometimes, because it does feel a bit ridiculous, his overthinking, his over-planning, how he makes sure you leave 30 minutes early, and triple checks the locks before you leave for real.

but sometimes, you do find yourself in a pickle, and you're so thankful for him being the way that he is.

you nick yourself on something while the two of you are out, and before you have a chance to react, he's slipping a band-aid from his jacket pocket, shuffling it into your hands, grumbling something about it being a coincidence when you shoot him a big, heart-eyed look - little do you know, it's not a coincidence at all, that he'd been sure to grab a handful of them each time the two of you left the house since that time, months ago, when you cut yourself on something you can't even recall, don't seem to remember, but he does.

that's just the way he is, takes note when something goes awry, and plans accordingly so it doesn't happen again. you're a bit clumsy with your hands? he's ordering extra straws and napkins when you eat out. you blistered your feet last time you wore 'those' heels? he's stuffing a pair of your trainers in the trunk the next time, and every time after you decide to wear them. it's just so sweet and thoughtful! even if it basically becomes muscle memory at some point! idk idk it just makes me feel really full thinking about it!!!

askjdhfsjfh anyway! ty for giving me an excuse to gush abt him sel!!!! i hope your week is absolutely lovely and filled with more writing inspiration than you know what to do with!! 💓💕❤

[soulsuckrrs]

open to: m/f/anyone connection: another hunter, stranger, hook up/fwb he thought already left👀, a supernatural being that got wind of him hunting in their territory (he's a hunter), fellow hunter that's looking for him bc they have info on a case, idk whatever works! editor: using beta

The smell of hot coffee permeated the air and woke his senses, Jase was exhausted, not an unusual state for the tall man as he rarely slept more than a few hours at a time. But he had lost count of how many cups of coffee he'd already consumed just to keep himself awake, the nightmares were getting worse and he wasn't entirely sure why. Recent nights he'd ended up waking with a start, panting and gasping for air that he was sure his lungs were severely lacking and drenched in sweat. All his usual methods of ridding himself of his nightmares, or at least, making it so he could sleep more than an hour, had not been working like he'd like and Jase knew that if he didn't rest properly he'd end up fucking something up on one of the cases he was working. 

He had showered and made his way to the hotel dining area where he'd gotten a large plate of food, waffles, eggs, sausages and potatoes piled all on top of one another. With one hand holding the massive plate of food and the other carrying the steaming cup of coffee, Jase moved to make his way back to his hotel room, pushing out of the doors that led to the doors and cars outside. Watching what he had in his hands to make sure he didn't spill any of it Jase didn't see the person coming in the doors he was going out and in the process almost fucking ran into them and spilled everything he had all over the both of them. 

With quick reflexes he kept the plate and cup of coffee high and grunted softly, hazel gaze snapping over to the person with an apologetic expression. "Shit… sorry," he muttered in a very tired tone, a lopsided smile pulling at one corner of his mouth as it didn't fully touch his eyes. "--- please, go ahead," he said with a slight nod of his head as he pressed his body against the doors in order to hold them open for the other person.