#how long had he been caught up in his own grief so bad he couldn't even watch the memories he had of his former colleagues

[noxiousgrace]

Cale is a man on a mission to make me cry as much as possible

"The records he had buried in his mind "

B R O

THIS MAN- *unintelligible sobbing and gibberish*

Idc if I'm reading this novel for the 3rd time, it still plays with my heart like it's a GODDAMN BASKETBALL

I'm so happy that he can finally let go of some of his grief 😭 he needs a break

(chap 424 when he cries after talking to lsh for the first time since his death)

[court-jobi]

The Bet (Hawks' Version)

((Banner by me!! I don't own Horikoshi's works/characters))

Pairing: Hawks x reader (fem!reader)

Words: 7k //good grief//

Rating: M | 18+ (put down the spicy chicken bucket, baby birds)

Warnings: NSFW, foreplay confessions, DTR, first time, piv smut, porn w feelings, flirting, kissing galore, biting & marking, vocal Hawks is vocal, wrap it up this is fantasy

Summary:

You turn the tables on Hawks' games -the ones he insists are crafted with you alone in mind. You've benefited from his tokens and gestures for long enough, and plan one of your own. You'd think he'd be happier to see you strut around in it once you're home and 'Keigo' can enjoy it all to himself… but once your heels come off in the doorway of your apartment, he makes one thing clear: he'd rather take it off. He’d damn near tear it off you with the promise to buy you a dozen dresses just like it, if you didn’t make such a sweet appeal to 'get comfortable' together~

A/N: as promised, part 2 has arrived!! Missed Part 1? Not required, but makes it a bit sweeter, IMO, so catch up if you'd like~

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on Ao3

Three months since your shopping excursion, you turned the tables on Hawks and placed a one-sided bet yourself. It was a harmless game, just as his had been from the start. 

You’d watched him pace on the edge of a building by happenstance, noting how he walked the teetery edge like a tightrope against the harsh wind. He's incredibly athletic -that point, you never doubted- but surely he couldn't make it clear across the edge without tripping off to the side… 

His wings would pitch in at any sign of a fall, but you made the sneaky bet that even their offset couldn’t keep him upright the whole way.

…but he did~ graceful and with a little personal stroke of pride as he batted his feathers back onto the roof of the building when he reached the rain gutter at the end. So cute, he even marked himself ‘safe’ like in baseball as he accomplished his goal while waiting for his intern to arrive. 

From the ground below, you couldn't believe how such a man had caught your eye- one as  flashy as he was. Normally you'd have veered far away from big personalities like that… but look at this kid, here. 

He's taking names of bad guys across the country and raking in hundreds of thousands of dollars in promotional money alone (much of it funneling secretly to charities, you came to learn), but here he is entertaining himself: like the child he is at heart. 

… That little show earned Keigo a text. 

From your cell, you sent a far off video snippet of your dashing Pro-Hero traipsing around, with the overlaid caption: 

You win, pretty bird ♥️ Made it across, and didn't tip over once! Still want that dinner?

Just your luck, Hawks pulled out his phone in real time after you sent the message. 

He's swiping, he's shielding it against the glare of the sun to read, and– yup, now he's jumping. And hollering for the whole wide world to hear, if they were only paying attention to the punk on the roof across the street. 

You giggled to yourself, shaking your head. What were you gonna do with him?

That question was easy to answer; you know exactly what you'd be doing and wearing. 

Hawks will be granted his wish after losing that first bet after all, with you completing the perfect night out in that stunning red dress. 

Sake-soaked words, a lovely meal, and a thousand endearing stares later, you two are seated on the way back to your place courtesy one of Hawks’ longtime drivers employed from his agency- where he could unabashedly makeout with you in the backseat. He's come through with enough personal favors with the hero to take him on harmless outings without snitching: movies, the rare sportsball game… dates, you ask him, but Hawks assures you this is the first time fairer company has joined him for a ride.

Mindful as you are, you’re careful not to make too much noise, though Hawks says his valet hates him just as much as yours does. 

‘Some people just don’t see the appeal, and can't handle me~’ he’ll goad, but you still make a pitiful attempt to make him behave in mixed company. 

Hard to do, when you're backed up against the seat of the car with an adoring angel of a man testing the limits of his seatbelt to a ridiculous degree-all for the simple plea to hold you closer: 

How he can't wait another minute. How good you look. How really good you look. 

It doesn’t help the Hero’s impatience when you’ve draped your legs across his lap, exposing the thigh where your dress cuts open. Hawks has a handful of it the entire way home, content to massage and fondle any inch of you he can get. 

After several months of teasing that this thing has been in the back of your closet, you'd think he'd be happier to see you strut around in it… but once your heels come off in the doorway of your apartment, Hawks makes it clear: he'd rather take it off. He’d damn near tear it off you with the promise to buy you a dozen dresses just like it, if you didn’t make such a sweet appeal to dress down and get comfortable together~ 

Obviously, Hawks sees no need for wearing night clothes to bed with what you tease in his ear. Though you laugh nervously about that very fact the whole way to your bedroom, to your walk-in closet where he unzips you fully: and to now as you’re slung over his shoulder wrapped up like a cigar in the towels you’d grabbed for your inevitable shower together... 

You wonder what he'd done that for when you just planned to toss them into your ensuite bathroom– only to realize he wanted to unwrap you himself. He’s in full playtime mode, and that makes you hysterical as he whistles along to your bedroom despite your squirming. 

"Keigo!!" you mind your volume a second too late, muting your giggles, "Keigo, what in the hell do you think you're up to?"

"Getting you to bed-- what's it look like I'm doing?" your Pro-Hero rumbles as he drops you gracelessly on the mattress. Off-hours Keigo was fun- and a welcome sight after his long-awaited return from Tokyo. 

No longer the apartment he simply drops you off after nights like this spent out on the town: he spends a few nights a week here. The home where he can snuggle in and shut out the roar of nightlife more than his solo apartment. 

Though till now, you’ve not traipsed this close to the edge of the intimate boundary.

You scramble for the sheet’s edge, still minding your tucked towels as much as you can before Hawks’ impatience gets the best of him.

"It's freezing though; get in if you wanna mess around!" 

Rolling a little eye, Hawks rests back on his heels where he’s perched on the mattress, and  makes a small, swift flare of one wing with a few feathers shooting out, and the flames on your small portable fireplace rekindle themselves with a feather’s arrow-straight press. Your head shoots to the noise and light suddenly casts the warm, flickering glow on his skin and yours.

Bright eyes look up at him, impressed by his little trick,

"Woah! Is that new??" 

"New to you. I try not to show off everything my feathers can do to the fans right away. Gotta leave ‘em wanting more."

You collect your hair above the pillow and flop back alluringly, having forgotten for a moment altogether his glory is on display just a foot away from you laid hidden by a quickly slipping towel around his waist, too.

"Uh-huh, smart move,” you admire Hawks in both the professional and personal sense, “So I've earned that distinct honor, have I?"

"Oh, you? You're gonna get more from me than basic Pro-Hero tricks, lovedove." Hawks kneed off the bed to come around to your open swath of blankets, “You have somethin’ of mine that no one else on this earth has...”

You open the covers dressed only in a waiting smile, having shucked the towel off in your settling in, allowing Hawks to take his time joining you into your makeshift nest. Soon he’s ditched his towel as well, favoring the covers. 

You’ve laid like this before, with him propping an arm above you, and your joint expressions glazed over while soaking in the sight of each other… 

…but like a warning memory flashed before his eyes unseen, Hawks paused; he’s brushing your cheek with utter fondness, yet his smile drops from his face. Like he did before he left town on that mission over a long week ago.

Naturally, you picked up on it. You always did.

"Uh-oh." you coo lightly, "Where'd you go, ‘Number Two’?"

He couldn't say right away, but his brow furrows at being caught. His hand pets firmly along your jaw to ground himself. Careful, reverent, his roughened fingers brush along your face’s comforting fullness, studying you - in no other words- adoringly.

"Nowhere pleasant. Not like here."

"Then come back here." you whisper and lean up to catch a kiss. 

You kiss a few times in quick succession, Hawks sighing into each one heavily; for the first time, feeling at home in who knows how long. 

“I just love it here,” Hawks whispers to you in such close proximity, “Wish I could be here more often. Was hoping this ‘villain boom’ woulda died down by now… work myself out of a job, be able to spend more nights like this…”

Cupping his face and guiding his forehead to yours, you offer a word up to him softly: to will away the furrowed lines hardening his face.

He’s far more serene in private than he is out in the public eye. ‘Hawks’ can act devil-may-care as a comforting, assuring tool in interviews as it boosts his ratings- but you hope for real peace for ‘Keigo’ when he can go home at night.

"Y'know you don't need to be 'big bad Pro-Hero' here. I know I joke all the time, but.. You are Keigo to me, now-- not the famed ‘Hawks’, not the Winged Hero, or some fanciful title the people carry on about in the streets."

Hawks gave pause, sinking into your touch.

"Those names, it’s part of you, yeah- but you know holding your own with a blade in each hand isn't what deems you perfect in my eyes. If I’m honest, your realness does. Your openness does. The care you give me? Everytime I ask, and you answer me? The aches you’ve told me about that no one else hears, because they aren’t the prettiest…” 

Hawks’ gold chain around his catches your attention. Well, his now- but it was originally yours. 

It’s a small token you’d given him after your first accidental late night sleepover together, because he loved how thin and subtle it was, shining on your jewelry tree. Loves shiny things: just like the pretty bird you are, you’d teased him- but it was a darling reaction from him. So you gifted it away, without a second thought.

It’s those moments that you catalog as reasons to fall for this boy again and again- even months after you know you know he’s got you locked in.

“The imperfectness: it’s untouched– and it’s the most beautiful thing I think I’ve ever seen, when you let me in. When you be yourself.”

His pretty eyes soften, hedging back ever so much in surprise. Crimson feathers plum behind him in interest. 

“It’s heavy, isn’t it,” you look up to the top of his wings unfurling above you, reaching high from the space between his shoulder blades where they stem from; where you hold him tenderly. “I can see that.”

By the look of emotion growing in his eyes, you know you're the only one who sees how heavily life can weigh on him.

“And I know- I know someday,” light tints your voice, trying to offer the same treatment he gives you, “you’ll believe me when I say I will never once slight you for things you choose to share to me- even if they’re out of my depth. Even if you think it's too much for me. You can be anything you want to be with me, tell me anything. This... is what I'll be here for. No sugar-coating. No pity. I’m just here, Keigo."

And if his smitten heart wasn't mush before, it is now. 

Hawks's voice sinks like gravel, "How the hell do you hit the nail on the head, dove…"

"I try- though I do try to save my best lines for you~" you added a hint of playfulness.

He kisses your smug look away, right on the nose.

Hawks’ wings cast a shadow over you as they flare up more when he leans.

"That’s why they pay you the big bucks, isn’t it… You're incredible, lovedove."

"So are you."

With a released hum, Hawks grumbles a little, sinking his head into the pillow beside you, sliding down in the covers to drape a heavy arm over your waist. Some heat has died down from his body -but you feel the tone has shifted past a hot pre-shower makeout to something way more intimate.

Watching him lie here, content on his stomach with his wings at their fullest all the way outstretched, you respect this as a gorgeous, vulnerable state. 

"I don't– wanna sound crass about this..." Hawks mumbles half into his arm.

You look over at the fire over his shoulder. Reining in a snide remark about the definition of the word, 

"Mm, well I am naked in bed with you, having stripped the second you offered to in my closet- into which I fell almost flat on my ass getting in, by the way–the opposite of grace and charm befitting a lady fair as humanly possible. So if you're worried about decorum? You really don't have to hold your tongue with me, Kei."

Hawks laughs with that bright, shallow sound again that shows his full smile.

"Well! Truth it is, then." 

Hawks freed his chest with some honesty. 

"..I've.. I’ve been dreaming about waking up next to you like this since before I made that stupid race bet. It's– kinda what gets me up in the morning."

You balk at the confession. The calendar in your head backtracks that first shopping trip: more than three months ago. He’s spent dozens of nights in your bed since then, and never once made a move like this.

Three months of waiting out a fantasy to become reality- and now he finally has it fulfilled: nestled beneath him in ivory sheets, stripped of the dress that brought you into his arms in the first place, and still hesitates. You couldn’t believe it.

"Are you serious??"

"Yes?”  Hawks answers, almost pained.

"Oh my God!!" you cry out at the ceiling before tucking yourself in your blankets and turning to him fully, "You have the restraint of a eunuch, Kei!"

He swipes a palm down his face.

"Don't get religious on me. Nothing pure about having a hard-on everytime you so much as fix your hair up with a fuckin’ pen. Forget it when you use one of my feathers."

You giggle wildly again. This does little to spare his sheepish embarassent and hides his face with a retracted wing.

"It's not funny, birdie..." the wing speaks.

"No- no, I guess it's not," you try audibly straightening up, running the backs of a few fingers to pet the feathers offered to you. "So– you were saying, about being horny and obsessed with me when you come around? ...Why pump the breaks now, hun?"

"Because-” Hawks’ wings drops ever so much to reveal at least part of his face. “-it's not just 'urges'. I've felt... strongly about you for a while. I know I told you as much back in that dressing room, but that was, like, barely scratching the surface. I've not missed someone like I've missed you." 

His heartstrings shine in his eyes, like Hawks is hoping you'll notice his effort. 

"I've lived long enough and, yeah, maybe flown around the block enough, too.. But it’s made me know what I really want. And for me... It's not just a want. I meant everything I said earlier.”

His shyness leaving him, Hawks finally returns his arm and outstretched wing over you again:

“I wanted to be the one for you. I loved you then,” Hawks tenderly confesses. “I just didn't know how to put it. Had to keep up all those damn appearances and walls up. Lie that I was joking to cover my ass, n’ regretted it ever since."

You soften because you know that fact must be hard for him to admit. 

"And by the time came to come back into town, it’d been so long since I'd seen you, since we last even could talk freely. You’d accomplished so much here and in Mustafu. I… honestly feel kinda shitty that I didn't tell you after so long away… before you were pulled in twenty different directions too, I bet– back when I should have slowed down a damn second to tell you so. I should have, you deserved to know."

"Oh, Keigo..." you loop your arms around his neck loose, brushing his hair back over his ear within reach.

"Sooo, you're not mad?”

"No, I'm not mad."

"Long time I wasn't exactly honest with you,” he presses with apologetic eyes, “I know how you get around all the PDA and stuff.”

You value how much Hawks is trying to be as open with you as he can. You know his limitations and pressures full well that keep him from speaking his mind in the moment as he might like to, and know his affections holding true despite the formalities he’s forced to keep up must have been torture itself.

It shows adorably, on his pouting face, even now. 

"That kind of 'dishonesty' is the only one I can live with, hon’. It was worth it in the end anyway, wasn't it?"

Hawks smiles -finally- and pushes up to kiss you chaste on the mouth before melting into your forehead again, 

"Every time our paths crossed, baby. even for a second- I ached to get my hands on you any way I could.. but after this last mission, the only thing I wanted was to see you safe and sound, here at home. Nothing more. Just safe. So now- even this-  has a bigger weight than ever."

"What do you mean?"

"Being with you, like this..." 

Hawks’ hand sweeps down, rubbing long strokes up and down your side. You turn further into him, encouraging the touch. 

"I want this,” Hawks utters with soft reverence, “I want you.. but sweetheart, it's not just about a bed anymore. Not for me. It's a connection -an important one- and it goes two ways. I don't want you nervous in any way around me. I want you to be sure. All of this is completely up to you- and I can wait. I will wait, if that's what it takes for you to feel ready."

You cringe at how firm yet desperate he sounds. 

See, you’d finally opened up about your hesitations too, about dating heroes in general. It was a funny topic in quirkless circles, as you’d shared with him: widespread assumptions about unfair power dynamics, acclimating to fame by proxy, privacy retention, the like. It made you doubly cautious in your line of work, as you surround yourself with Pro-Heroes on the daily– only to find out one held your heart in a perfectly private place that you were nervous about letting slip and smack you in the face should it go wrong. All irrational fears, truly.

"Dammit, I wish I'd never worded it like that.." you moaned at your past slip. "Keigo, I feel nothing but safe with you. It's--" you flit your gaze around bashfully, "This-- may be something to explore and fumble around a bit with. But it's not because I'm scared, it's because I-- I dunno, I don't want to-..."

He raised a patient brow to you, kind and reassuring.

"... Dissappoint you, I guess?" 

With a funny pout, Hawks waits for you to explain.

"I can dole out all the pretty words on a page I like, but things are different when you're right in front of me. Looking at me like this… like I’ve wanted all this time, too,” 

You cup his cheek, which he totally sinks into the moment your skin makes contact- 

“I get nervous because you're so damn incredible and I want you so fucking bad too… I can't help it either."

Hawks chuckles, relieved in his shoulders as your hungry tone shimmers over your words.

Looking up at him just as tenderly as you touched, you trail a hand along his shoulder, down to his arm. There’s tiny, light freckles there, if you look hard enough.

"Self-conscious is a better way to put it,” you decide, “You've never given me a reason to think you'd hurt me, never... But it's just a fact; you've lived and operated in a different world than I have, Kei. I hope to not be all flustered and blushing through the newness, but I might, still. I know your heart has the best intentions, but I couldn't help imagining you making– comparisons.”

“Comparisons?-”

You swallow your nerves and insecurity rarely voiced to others.

“Just… want to be enough for you. For what you need me to be- if you even wanted that with me."

In favor of fixing his necklace’s clasp, you settled. Inside you knew this wasn't a fair stereotype for heroes, given all he'd shared so intimately about what the life was really like, and he confirmed this suspicion with his displeased reaction.

"You think because I’m out front and center that I should be with someone else.”

You toss the thought away, but answer him in the way you might have months ago, “Maybe?”

“And you think you're lesser because you don't have ‘experience’- because if you're unprepared, you're not of value? That I wouldn’t still want you that way?”

Heat creeps up from your neck, “I- I mean…” 

Hawks further stops your preening of him, and holds your hand instead-

“--And because no one's fucked you right in the past means youre unworthy to have it now?”

You dropped your head back immediately in regret and looked off. "Ok crass, but sure."

"Baby, look at me."

At his word, you level out and meet his gaze again. He cups your face again more gently.

"We're going to make another promise to each other, here and now, okay? Gotta make one thing crystal clear, if nothing else."

You nod to agree.

"One, no more bullshit mind reading. I've had enough of that."

A snort leaves you and he smirks to match.

"I mean it! It won't do either of us any good. If you -or I- need to talk, we talk. You said you were here to support me, and you always have been."

Hawks smooths out his hand to grace your collarbone- meant to soothe. 

"But that means you need to let me be the same for you. I would never, ever judge you either. You are important to me- as an equal. In so many ways. You have my word on that. Deal?"

"Deal." you agree.

"And for two," the kind tone flips to annoyed, "I’ll rid that 'blushing bride' streak out of your head about this amazing body of yours myself... And I'm willing to use any means necessary. I am a Pro-Hero with training and coercion strategies under my belt. With a problem staring me in the face, I’ll fight it until it’s done- and I'm patient."

You quirked your lip while trying to maintain the sensitive conversation.

"Uh-oh. That sounds serious." 

"It will be if you make my job difficult, sweet thing." His eyes jump down to your increasing blush. “Which is why -by the way– it's laughable that you think I'd ever have had time for any chasing tail. Have ya met me? I'd never hear the end of it from my agent!”

That’s funny, but– fair. Another unfair assumption on your part, but Hawks’ easygoing attitude has you bursting into a fit at how easy it is for him to make you laugh.

You really do adore him, and if you can trust him to protect you against a world full of villains, you could give him grace in the love department too.

"Now I'm going to ask you something…”  

Hawks turns to an amorous side of him: where you expected him to land once your head hit the pillow…

“and you're going to answer me honestly…"

"Yes, sir?"

Hawks' top rung of feathers ebb, enough to buffer his telltale control. Seems he’s just as susceptible to a sultry title as you are... 

"See, that shit?” Hawks pipes up, “That's what’s made the last three months a living hell!"

"What, being polite?" you tease your leg to nudge against his from where you’re pinned beneath him. "I thought you liked that I was a nice girl..." 

Lowly, Hawks growls an appreciative moan. He rubs the pads of his fingers along your shoulder all too sensually with just enough pressure to prove his point.

"I do, lovedove. But now, you're my nice girl. Can’t keep you from being yourself… but it's going to be twice as hard not to show everyone who so much as looks at you just how much you're mine."

Behind a demure smile, your heart pounds at this possessive Hawks. Quick instincts targeting prey cross over into the pleasure realm it seems, too.

"My question is..." Hawks leans in shifting lower to nose your hair aside– punctuating his options with a kiss at each stop along your cheek:

"How would you like me to warm you up tonight, lovely? Do you want my hands... my mouth... or something else?"

STARS ABOVE, SOMETHING ELSE YES.

Rather than make the impossible decision, you shudder out a funny quip,

"--Dealer's choice?"

Hawks chuffs against your neck, "That's not an answer, beautiful..."

But how can you answer when he’s so close and siphoning all thoughts from you? All you can do is keen at the sensations on your neck and curl up into him with leisurely hands around his back scratching enticing circles. Kissing gentle suckles at your neck- plus a bite here and there- Hawks sweeps back your waves before he whispers low again,

"Tell me how far you wanna go with this. Can you do that for me?"

"Mhm.." you hum wordlessly. Hawks’ hand presses to the space above your breast.

"Heart's racing again. Does this feel ok?"

You hum back, drawn out and comfortable.

"How ‘bout this?" He dips and now cups a breast in a hand and massages carefully while peppering your neck and chest with the same hot kisses.

A longer moan still.

"There you go. Keep talking to me. Tell me what feels good; you can do it."

There’s nothing you want more than him– nothing in the world.

"You have me. You have all of me," Hawks’ hips curl into the bed in a grind below you getting high off the accidental confessions you let loose.

"I want..." you swallow for control, "... To-- kiss- hah."

His eyes flicker to your face from his perch atop you, seeing you blissed out, lolled to the side: smirking at his success already.

"Yeah?" Hawks drifted a little lower, cooing up at you between wet open-mouthed presses. "Where do you want me to kiss you?"

"No, I-" your voice pitched up higher and he stops, smoothing out his strokes and eyes you as you rouse enough to face him.

From his hand's touch, he surely feels your pulse throb and hangs on your words just as he did before, but you want to take the pressure off of him. 

Just for a little while. He deserves it. He won the bet, after all.

"I wanna kiss you."

Hawks bridges over you to meet your eager arms to pull you in for a hungry kiss. Together, you get an addictive taste of each other over and over, meeting each one with equal passion and excited fervor.

In between heavy breaths, you push your racing heart forward towards his next dousing of affection. 

" I wanna.."

"Wanna what?" Hawks slurs like he’s drunk. Enamored, but rutting into the bed again impatiently.

"Wanna kiss you-- fuckin' everywhere." you sigh, zeroed in on his throat’s bobbing- adorned with your gift of gold there.

Pleased at your growing excitement, he chimes back, "Be my guest~" 

Hawks scoops you up and flips you so you are positioned laying on top. Pleased at the shift, you smile charming as ever and sit up to adjust, putting yourself on full display for him. It’s proof that it was never the dress specifically that made you appealing to him: but the model underneath.

His hands rove over your thighs and hips, getting a good look at you in the firelight, but settle on your angelic face in the end, as usual.

"I kinda like you up there~!"

"Kinda like it, too,” you wriggle yourself with a refreshing rake to your hair's part. 

With Hawks's hands on you, you felt truly as powerful and enticing as he made you out to be-- if his gaze wasn't indicative enough.

"Wish you could see yourself right now… You're damn gorgeous."

"And all yours-" you lean down in perfect confidence, settling on his chest and brushing his hair out of your way as well. "May I?"

"Please." He tease a brow for a 'go ahead'.

Oh was he in for it. 

The moment you latch on, you suck and mark at his neck like a pro, pulling a groan from his sweet spot already. How the hell did you find it so fast? You're just that good.

You caress his chest with the hand not crucial for balance, fingers beginning to memorize every soft-lipped jump in the skin where a faint scar splits it. It’s the tender attention he deserves that you know from his offhand comments that he does not and has not received in the years spent under the Commissions’ eye. 

Taking your time and attention, you lavish on worshipful kisses across the column of Hawks’ throat and have to flip your hair again when you switch sides. Hawks seems to enjoy its drape like a curtain across his field of vision in the few moments where his eyes flutter open. It's a reverse of what his wings do for you; he's enamored by the sight. 

"Ohhhh, that's perfect. Oh, you're so perfect- fuck, you're good at thi--S-MMMMM."

Hawks cut off his trill when you sucked another equally tender spot and hum along with him. Lost in the moment yourself, you roll your hips to meet him; how he trembles under you and against the cock twitching to life- hot against your bare skin. 

You’re just about to move away from a high point of his neck, when his hand comes up to fist in your hair and hold you in place–

"Harder."

"Hm-what?"

"Bite me--Harder, baby, please."

At the hoarse request, your eyes flash wide open… but who the hell are you to refuse?

So you give him a little nonsensical melody, sung just soft like so along your kisses’ trail, then tease his throat with your teeth before nipping him gentle enough in play. But it’s enough of a shock to make him groan–

"FFFFuck, YES."

You chuckle low, followed by a little hushing finger on his lips.

"Keigo, baby… You don't want my neighbors and half the joint to give my shit about the Winged Hero’s volume, do you?"

"I don't fucking care." Hawks rasps, "Let em hear what you're doin’ to me- let ‘em hear what they can't fuckin’ have."

His lovesickness makes you proud in the most selfish way, and reward him by blowing on the hot skin rising and falling with breath as you kiss along each pec next, lightly singing bits and pieces of no song in particular. For as much as this boy has made your heart sing just by looking your way, you try to give him a piece of that back. Just wordlessly praising him along every scar and response to the sounds he’d make; in want, plead, hunger for more.

Slow torture.

Shockingly- and much sooner than you expected from his control so far- Hawks had enough.

His eyes flash open in molten gold.  He’s capturing you with strength you’ve so far only witnessed on tv and is pulling you into his lap in full force. Sitting with legs astride him, you gasp at the heat of him again- even more at how desperately your source of need literally weeps for him. 

Blindly Hawks reaches for himself and prods you with some gently-paced rocks up and down, kissing you back and with renewed vigor as your breaths got faster.

"Ready for this?"

You nod and cast every ounce of trust to him with a grounding breath, taken with his eyes for about the millionth time tonight– strong jaw and blonde whisps crafting his face.

"Y’gonna hold on, pretty girl?" Hawks scoops under your shoulder blades, a more mischievous smile gracing his kissed-bruised countenance.

"I got you," you echo. "Your turn to tell me just what you want, huh?"

"Got all I want right here."

And you believe that softness from him: private and earnest and shared as gently as a secret.

It brings a barely audible word of love from the pit of you. Hawks breathes it back into your waiting lips before sealing his mouth to yours. 

Then, gloriously slow, he pushes up and moans sinfully into your mouth, low and slow. You made the sweetest sounds in complete rapture once he settles in -full in the best way- slick and deliciously joined.

Hawks curses against your chest, breathing heavily. 

"Mmmmm tell me when–I can move... Y’you say when-”

"Ohmygod yes,move…" 

No more teasing needed. 

Hawks hoists you up and forward suddenly, now bent on his heels. One arm is wound tight around your waist, and the other clutches you to his chest by your warm nape. You release the breath and pull tight onto his shoulders, moaning loud for you. Then, Hawks just went to town: fucking up into you, deep, steady, and hard.

"Oh ssshit, babe, you're so good~~" you praise light and high in your voice, rocking your hips in time, in awe without even the slightest shock of his strength. 

Pressing down against him nudges your own sweet spot every time– a point not lost on your dear Keigo.

You rock with him eagerly, but quickly reach the point of lightheadedness he had when you’d kissed all along his chest… the same shocking sensations flutter through you when he starts to make love to each breast lavishly. All those sensations of hard nips and soft  tracing were quickly building up and up and up.

“Fuck,Keigo– I, ah… AAH!--”

“That’s it, lovedove– say my name. Say my name- I’m gonna have you cummin’ for me, love.”

Kissing praises into his neck, you become entranced by the sounds of your pats of joining, the grunts of Hawks fighting against his moans in between, the reactive bats of those fierce wings and his strong hand petting through your hair. By its steady grip, you can tell he’s possessively keeping you close while he ruts into you. In no time, it was his turn to babble nonsense while deeply buried in you.

"Sweet baby... Fuck, that feels so good-- ughhhh do thatagain, squeezin’ me... Fuck, you could kiss me anywhere n’ I wouldn’t care... Ahhh just wanna feelyou..."

Your insides swell and sigh at his happy cries... and you can’t bear to refuse him. 

So you choose something small~ to test how much your touch truly affects him. You opt for a small, breathy peck at the corner of his eye, where his lashline is fanned out in a darling beauty mark on him by nature’s design. It works: whether it’s a teasing kiss on the neck or a peck on the tenderest skin on his face, you’re making him drive extra punches in his thrusts.

His name is your steady prayer in this treasured, rare time with him,

“You waited a'long time for this haven't you, pretty bird... Missing me so much, loving me from afar, and I didn't even know it yet…"

Hawks chuckles a savory growl, "Missed me too, didya. You missed me? This what you wanted? Feels good, huh?"

"Hell, I couldn't even have imagined it would feel this good, -near- this good-- gods, you're so strong.. and safe- fuck, I'm so safe, and all yours. All yours."

Hawks' pants pick up, almost feral again-- 

"Say that again."

“I’m– yours?”

“Again.”

Pushing back on his shoulders, you find balance framing his face and pushing his hair back to study his glazed over eyes-- the ones staring right through you with his love’s fire consuming him from the inside out.

Purely on instinct, you tug Hawks’ hair back to whisper against the sensitive skin under his ear,

"I'm yours, Keigo Takami."

Sealing your declaration with a hot mix of tongues, Hawks brokenly cries out, squeezing you tight and pushing you down so hard you felt the stars shoot through you in a blazing hot wake. The burning heat makes you gasp at the fullness now warming you through. Too quick to even ask where you’d have preferred he cum in you, you wouldn’t have honestly had it any other way,

…telling him you were his is what did him in, and you take a special stroke of pride knowing your claim on his heart.

After his strangled grunts give way to deeper breaths, Hawks collapses to the side, sending you in a barrel roll along with him extending his legs under you- still submerged in you. His fingers trail along your back leisurely while he catches his breath, which made for such a comforting cool down. 

Breathing normally and opening your eyes again, you notice the fire was still alive in your fireplace unit, but barely- as if the heat you were generating was snuffing out the actual flames.  In reality, the timer was just going out.

"Oh wow~" you sigh, "Look at that."

"Yeah- wow~" Hawks sighs.

Your lashes tickle from your pillow -his chest- and remind him, "I was looking at the hearth, sweet boy." 

Beyond the heartbeat making music under your ear, you hear only a small rustle above you, then watch a singular feather make another bullseye, and the light roars back to fullness.

"oOo…” It’s shameless how ditzy you feel, watching him not miss a beat, even in his afterglow.

Hawks chuckles, back to stroking you.

"So.. ‘terms fulfilled’, love?"

"Mhmmm. To the letter-" you tease and slowly manage to rise up enough to cross your arms across his chest as a pillow for yourself so you could look at him. Naturally, a smile settles onto your face at the sight, "How bout you; winnings ‘sufficiently provided’?"

Hawks pillows an arm under his head and caresses your face with the other.

"This winner didn't last near as long as he intended to… with all your ‘fulfillment’, little minx." 

"I think it was worth it. I got you really worked up- which I imagine, is a hard feat given your occupation,” you fall into his touch. “I'm pretty proud."

Hawks praises you with a sexy little smile, "You should be~"

With his sparkling eyes drooping shut for a moment, you press a little kiss above Hawks' prominent winged eye once again. Upon opening, you found him lazily watching you with a content smile.

"What's that look for?" you ask.

"Just kicking myself,” Hawks holds no sweet-talking twang in his voice now, “Why didn't I cut my rascal act sooner?"

You dismiss his fear in a little roll of your eyes. 

"Don't do that. It was meant to be like this. Like you said- no need to rush." Another small kiss is granted on his cheek.

"C'mere," Hawks coaxes you up and gifts you a soothing kiss on the lips. "I love you."

"I love you too."

Your brain still needed catching up, because your muscles seem very slow to move. Shifting off of him,  you felt your 'activities' leak its mess down your legs and you shut them immediately, flopping back embarrassed. Hawks chuckles warmly, grabbing one of those abandoned towels and taps your knee to open.  The prodding renders you more openly shy now, but Hawks only gave a sweet, consoling brow back.

"C'mon, why so shy? Open up." He prompts your knees to open, and wipes you down with a caring touch. 

Even with his task set on purely cleaning your skin, you lay back and stretch your arms just watching him work. Slowing his movements, Hawks meets you eyes again when he makes an unintended jolt along your clit, giving you an appreciative once over, shaking his head with gentle eyes.

“And don’t you think I forgot about you, baby~” he whispers like the rascal he claims to have put behind him: “We’ve got quite the night ahead of us. Can’t be overwhelming you too much too soon.”

You giggle, pulling him down to hide in his shoulder again. Pleased enough at his sense of peace as he breathes, you melt more at the reminder:

"You're gorgeous, you know. Fancy dress or not."

A closed-lipped smile is all you can manage in your exertion. 

"Wish I could see it through your eyes. All I see hangin’ over there is a sure fire way to get me laid."

Hawks’ laugh is near delirious- carefree. 

"I’ll make you see. Just give me a little time. I'm patient." 

Hawks offers you a hand and helps you to your feet- only to catch your unsteady legs, leaving you chuckling into his chest, nuzzling playfully when his wings come around to keep you warm in the meantime.

"Sorry ‘bout that…" you gain better footing.

"What, that I fucked you too good?"

"Keigo."

"Crass, sorry,” Hawks pouts.

"You are not that sorry."

And he agrees, full cheek returned, "Nah." 

When he passes your still partially open closet where you’d tossed the dress back to hang up for dry cleaning, Hawks stops your walk altogether in favor of holding you from behind– just like he did in the dressing room.

“And you know that’s not the only thing to get me to take you to bed, lovedove,” he makes the promise by your mess of hair, “Try on anything else in there for me– and all you need to do is ask.”

[blond3ang3l]

🌷♡₊˚geek lover! eren🦢・₊✧

———————————————————————

This is a remake of the already geek lover eren, but specifically a sfw version but I actually really love this story

———————————————————————

Eren is a geek lover. He absolutely is enamored with you. Watching your lips with every word you spoke. The way you got excited telling him about every single new detail of the things you got interested in. Eren worked hard as a famous rnb singer, long days in the studio trying to perfect his songs. Then having to perform when he literally had the WORST anxiety known to man. It always felt like someone needed him and was on his ass about something.

But he did it all for you. So you can have everything your heart desired. He left nothing behind when it came to you. You wanted to see a new sci fi movie? He already bought out the theater. There’s a new podcast you like? He’s downloaded all the episodes for you on both yours and his phone. Don’t even get started on books. On your first date you mentioned you like to read and study psychology in your free time. Once you moved in he had your very own book room built for you. Carefully picking out each book for you on his own. Your own desk and room for you todo your writings in. He even surprised you with a laptop and camera so you can start your own podcast! He just wanted to show you how much he loved and supported you.

For moment like this were he could come home and listen to you tell him. About the things you've watched in your huge list of video essays that you had in a playlist on YouTube. How you lit up telling him different facts from how the dating game killer had a coworker that also happened to be a serial killer and he didn't know to the conspiracy theory of the 27 club, no matter what you said it always made you so happy and seeing you all giddy and stimming while you talked to him made him so content with his life.

"I know cotards syndrome, Koro, Diogenes, fregoli, hypochondria, pica, capgras, boanthropy, apotenmophilia, kulver bulcy, ekbom, erotomania, Stendhal. Pics is like one of the more well known. You know that show my strange addiction that we watch together? Yeah so like those people who eat the random shit like the lady who ate rocks- omg that reminds me!"

Erens ass was not listening one bit. He was watching you, watching your body. You guys had been apart for a little over a month so could do a very short tour in another country and he was sick as fuck that he couldn't bring you.

Everyone knew it too. His attitude fucking sucked that trip. He was antsy, his anxiety was through the roof, he snapped at everyone, overall he fucking hated it. But now, sitting here with you he finally felt at peace.

You were sitting on his lap, yapping his ear off.His eyes couldn't help but wander to your legs which lead him to notice you were wearing his boxers. Your hands thick thighs were filling them out so well. His hands moved to grip them as he watched you talk. You’d kill him later for not listening but he just felt so much dread when he was away from you that he couldn’t help but just stare at you forever.

“Rennie, papa are you okay? You’re getting all red. Are you feeling sick baby?”

You were worried, he had a bad history of getting sick easily. With him coming back from another country he could have likely caught something. It would hurt your heart to know he wasn’t feeling well.

“I’m fine baby. Keep going. I wanna hear you talk.”

“Are you sure baby? We can go lay down if you’d like.”

It warmed his heart how much you cared for him. You made him the man he was. He used to be so closed off to anyone that wasn’t your friends mikasa and armin. You taught him how to deal with the grief of life and got him therapy to get through the rough days of his depression. He just loved you so much and truly couldn’t imagine being anywhere without you.

“I’m fine baby, just missed you so much..”

For my girlie @merakidoll

[chiefcroissantdeanbanana]

[SPOILERS] A Date with Death Bad Ending 1 - A "What if" Scenario

I really really liked Every Single Bad End ADWD gave us, but I was super heartbroken to see that we barely got Casper's reaction in Bad Ending 1 (Untrustworthy), so I decided to write more to it... yes I am starved and yes I cook my own food but also because I need more pain in my bad endings (and because I suddenly got an idea and wanted to hurt more people drex and aya I am targeting you please read this /hj /j) I mean what who said that?? + The people who would've listened to my brainrot are busy right now so. womp womp for me boohoo :((

Bad ending 1 (Untrustworthy) spoilers.

DISCLAIMER!! bad writing. yep. and spoilers but mainly bad writing. and bad english too... also, I do not claim this as canon or real to the game, it's just me making silly stories :3

-> What if after MC dies, Casper comes to their apartment immediately but found that MC had already been possessed by a demon? He kills it, hesitating for a bit because it's his sunshine's body. But he knows it's what you would've wanted, to not let a demon tarnish your name, so he kills "you". And then, for the first time in his Grim Reaper life, he feels regret. Regret? How? He shouldn't feel like this- Especially not for a human he was supposed to kill! And he did it, didn't he? He won! So... So why does he feel so... empty? His vision is turning blurry, he feels something warm on his cheeks, are these tears? Is he crying? Oh nine hells, he's about to choke on his own sobs. Why is he feeling like this? Is he sick? Did the soul sickness finally taint his soul, for better or for worse? Who knows!

He'd be like Bad Ending 2 Casper too, depressed, lonely, and no one to ever truly connect to. And he regrets it so so so so much. The multiple "What if's" in his head drives him crazy every single night. "If only I was friendlier..." "If only I was more trustworthy..." "If only I didn't push to make that stupid bridge...!" haunts him, he can barely even open his laptop, because looking at it reminds him of the broken trust you placed on him.

Sometimes though... he feels something, something that doesn't truly feel like 'him'. It's strange, he feels like you're still here somehow, even though you aren't. Like... a part of you was on him. Protecting him, shouldering his burdens, and that wrecks him more than anything could ever do. Why him? Why would you do this? HE'S the reason YOU'RE dead, so... So why are you trying so hard to let him live on? Is this karma? Do you want him to forever remember his mistake? His loss? He would gladly do it too, as repayment, as justice, for fairness (and that he also feels guilty, immense guilt, it's confusing, conflicting emotions swallow him up whole) He's supposed to feel happy for your death, right? It's what he's been doing for years, trying to kill you over and over again, failing time and time until his patience grew thin. But now? He wished you could've avoided death once more, just a couple of minutes more, to be with you for a second longer... He'd give up anything for that.

(+ the section above is the ending for that, an aimless Grim Reaper searching for the light that saved him, but I also had another ending in mind, I just didn't know where to put it so I'll add it as an extra!!

-> His regret and grief couldn't be contained, it was too hard for him to keep it covered, and he got caught. He got caught having feelings, having MORTAL feelings. Something a grim reaper, especially someone of his rank, should never have. He knew it was soon, he knew from the start what he was doing was illegal. He accepted it long ago, but now, he finally had a reason to be terminated. Maybe grim reapers also had an afterlife too? If they did, he wishes it could be the same as them. Would their afterlife be as soft as them? As warm as them? As perfect, and wonderful as them? No, actually. He wants THEM. He wants YOU. Not just your afterlife- but your whole being, he hopes he could see you, waiting for him, along with azrael and your pet. "Ah, my home..." he thinks blissfully, as his whole being gets erased, and not a single trace of him remains.)

[antianakin]

I've decided that Rex is the one who paints Kanan's eye mask with his bird of prey design.

Kanan's feeling pretty low still just after Malachor, he's still distancing himself from everybody, and Rex decides to go try to talk to him at one point and the first thing he comes up with to say is to point out that his new mask is pretty plain. It's awkward, he regrets it immediately, but then Kanan says that it gets the job done and Rex is abruptly reminded of himself so so long ago back at the beginning of the war.

He sits Kanan down and tells him a story about how, at the beginning of the war, only a few of the clones had paint on their armor, to designate things like rank and battalion in order to make it easier for officers to find them in the middle of a busy battlefield. The paint was practical and it was limited to a very select few. But the Jedi almost immediately started trying to encourage the clones to utilize the paint less sparingly, suggesting that maybe everybody could wear at least a LITTLE paint and use more individualized designs so that it was still easy to tell the commanders and captains apart from the others when needed.

Some of the clones had taken to it with gusto, but others had been more hesitant, and Rex remembers having been one of them. He remembers telling Obi-Wan that there was no real REASON to paint everyone's armor and especially not to come up with personal designs. The armor was practical and it served its purpose with or without the paint and special designs. But the Jedi had insisted on at least TRYING to come up with his own design and if he didn't like it, he could always take it off, so Rex had given in and chosen something to paint on the armor. And, somehow, it felt a little lighter the next time he put it on. It didn't erase the horrors of war or the pain of loss or anything like that, but it helped.

He tells Kanan that the mask right now is just a reminder of the pain of the injury and whatever other feelings he's still got all caught up in the Malachor mission (guilt over what happened with Ezra, grief over Ahsoka's loss). But if he puts his own design on it, it might turn the mask into something other than a constant reminder of something bad. Instead, it's a reminder of who he is, the combination of the person he once was and who he's become. He is more than just his injury or this mission and he can use the mask to declare that if he wants to.

Kanan says he never realized Rex and the other clones had cared so deeply about their armor and Rex says that the armor itself was meaningless. It's better than what's being handed out to stormtroopers, but not but a LOT. It was the design on it that had meant something and, more than that, it was what the design REPRESENTED: having a choice about how you were perceived by others.

Kanan asks why Rex had chosen his particular designs, the bird of prey eyes on his helmet in particular. Rex explains that he chose it because he liked birds and thought it looked cool, but he's kept the helmet for as long as he has because it's come to mean something ELSE now. It's not just a cool-looking design, it's a reminder of a better time in his life. It's a reminder of when he'd been a part of something greater than himself, with the other clones and the Jedi. It's a reminder of a time when he'd had hope that he and his people could one day come out the other side of this war towards a brighter future.

Kanan looks at the mask he'd grabbed from storage somewhere or something just to keep light from hurting his eyes as they recovered and to cover up the injury from other people's stares (even if he couldn't see them staring), then hands it to Rex and asks if Rex minds sharing that symbol because he'd like a reminder of that, too. Rex remembers the 332nd and their helmets that they'd painted to look like their chosen Jedi, almost blindly giving away their individuality in favor of that loyalty that had been stripped from them anyway. And then he looks at Kanan, choosing to make himself look LIKE REX, someone who had shared his face with millions once, because he wants to honor both the connections he'd lost as well as this new connection the two of them have built together now. And Rex says he'd be happy to share.

[makerofmadness]

Dark Cacao Cookie (II AU)

(relevant posts: general AU post, DC dialogue post, GC explained post)

So fun fact: I'm not Christian and neither is my family but I remember maman like gave me those like cheap cardboard advent calendars around Christmas time when I was little because . Chocolate . I think sometimes I'd just eat several chocolates in a day dndndndd anyways this is relevant because You know how those like 50% of the time have really bad sugar blooms that are like. All powdery and ruin the texture but I still ate them i think even though they tasted like depression.

anyways here's chocolate with depression:

(haha see my tirade was actually relevant to this-)

He was the second to go. He had never let himself shed a tear at the Ivory Pagoda, even throughout those long, agonizing millennia spent effectively just waiting. Waiting for the day that it would be the right time. Not even being certain that those Cookies they were fighting for would come about again under a different reign. That his son would even exist in this time. That he'd never get to tell him a truly heartfelt "I love you" as his father again, and hold him in his arms.

He went on dutifully granting the wishes of all those Cookies that looked up to him. Some he developed a degree of closeness with, others would just come to him for what he could do- but he would provide, no matter how big the burden got. It was nothing compared to the feelings carried by his heart; to him, it only distracted from them. He wouldn't be like his predecessor.

...but his grief became too much to bear, and one day, after overhearing some of those traveller Cookies whisper of how the kingdom northeast had "fallen from grace." She had written to all of them just saying that she was busy, as odd as the tone of her writing read, she said not to worry about her. To keep meeting with each other as if everything was fine. This had gone on for... how long had it been since they'd last seen her, again? He realized what the wider Cookie world had yet to: The first of the five had fallen. After all that agonizing time trying to hold out till the future, had they really just been doomed form the start, wasting their time trying to outrun a fate that was waiting right in front of them to swallow them whole...?

Every feeling that has piled on top of itself had finally burst a hole through his heart, and he had to run away, to seclude himself within the Grand Temple. Cloud Haetae Cookie had to keep outside Cookies away from their master as he wept from deep within. And wept. And wept. And couldn't stop weeping. No one could reach him, if they even wanted to try. They didn't, as they tended to be driven off by the wailing from the temple...

He had never been in so much pain. Everything hurt so much. Every single memory, every feeling attached to them- all those joys and sorrows and angers alike began to blur as the agony of knowing that he'd never get to experience those days, those Cookies again- it all consumed him there alone. Every feeling led back to pain. Every feeling was pain. If all he felt was pain, then it'd be better not to feel anything at all.

Such was his last resolve. It would make everything so much easier- the cruel inevitable fate, the loved ones he'd never see again as anything but their enemy, the time dragged on to infinity- if he were to just become numb to it all. If he felt no pain. If he felt nothing at all.

By the time he finally emerged, there were still some Cookies visiting the temple, mourning his long-storied loss. Cookies who had never even known him

He decided to free them from their pain.

-

Present character:

Fatalistic. He is doing what he is supposed to as the Beast of Apathy, and does not have his own will or beyond that. At least not much of one.

He uses his sword to create endless snow storms. Those who get caught out in the snow for too long will find themselves slowly losing the will to carry on...

The Bloom of Apathy (or as it will be dubbed by the Dark Cacao Kingdom, Sugarbloom Syndrome) does not directly cause cookies to disappear the way that the Pale Ailment had. Instead, it simply makes them those the will to sustain themselves, until they become completely apathetic to whether or not they survive, to whatever may happen to them and those around them.

"Endless" is more so "until he decides to stop them." He can control how long they last, as well as the range of them.

Has never been very fond of Cloud Haetae Cookie, but never seemed to hate them- at least, he didn't let it show that he disliked them before, and he isn't really capable of it now.

His wings do not fly.

His tear flow was so continuous that by the time it finally dried, his eyecing had ran permanently.

He does not really spend time with Cookies except for a certain group, with sole exception given to Peach Blossom Cookie, but it isn't exactly what one would call a traditional friendship. It is more so that... they have a strange sort of tradition. Peach Blossom sees him come up the mountain and offers him a peach bao; Dark Cacao refuses. And... he actually may stop to engage in what could be considered small talk. As minor and flavorless on his end as it typically is...

Tends to fall silent.

Does not resist others' attempts to do what they wish around or to him, or to say what they please. He will defend himself physically, though. Not even he knows why. He thinks it's just him being driven by some unseen force of fate, but...

His dough is cold to the touch. It's also quite chalky in the bloomed spots.

He does not have much personality left, really, thanks to his suppressed erased emotions.

He does not truly wish to do what he's doing. He will bring apathy upon the Cookie World because it is what he is supposed to do. If he did not have that, well, he does not have any desires of his own anymore except to just be with his friends in peace, so he would do nothing at all.

To end this off: uh, this is I guess "spoilers" but. I decide what's spoilers and what isn't actually so

you know the spider boss? BY 3-30? (That I still haven't beaten on hard-)

. well . It has a replacement here.

And it Is Cacao.

(He would clarify that there is a difference between a Cookie becoming a dragon and a dragon becoming a Cookie- so, no, he is not a real dragon)

(Thanks once again to @driftwoodmfb for the art and also for the design on this!)

[ellsfloriographyy]

past, present, and future.

chapter 1 <3

summary:

After the night of the Orpheum, Julie Molina found herself in a dizzying realization that she barely knew about the lives the phantoms had before they died. Of course, she heard stories occasionally, and the '90s impact never left their sides, despite the fact some of their references didn't stick with her. Yet they pushed through to let go of the past and focused on the future. Instead of Sunset Curve, their future was Julie and the Phantoms, and they couldn't be happier. Yet Julie wasn't. There's a particular grief she's experiencing, and she feels selfish for feeling it in the first place. But she grieves the lives they could have lived if they were alive today.

She understands that a massive weight remains on their shoulders. She wishes to help them alleviate some of that trauma as she did for Luke when speaking to Emily… But there's only so much she can do.

Past. Present. Future.

What could she do to make this second chance perfect? And would it be enough? Enough to make everything last?

She can't lose to the test of time. She won't allow it this time.

Chapter 1: entering the past <3

Frustrated.

It was the only word that came to mind for Julie Molina when describing her current mood. Frustration was the only thing she could pinpoint in the rollercoaster of emotions she was experiencing. At six in the morning to make matters worse, she couldn’t get more sleep even if she tried, so she opted to stay in bed for a while. Plus, her mind had already bolted her awake, and now she was in a bad mood. At least the sunrise was pretty.

It had been roughly over a week since the band’s performance at the Orpheum and well over a week since she almost lost the boys, yet despite all her fears, they were still there. She should be overjoyed; don’t get her wrong, she is! It’s a miracle that they remained, but it leaves another mystery for her to overthink. They may have broken Caleb’s curse, but he could still be lingering... Regardless, she could never have imagined being able to embrace them as she did that very night. The warmth, the presence, and the comfort they provided through touch were simply a daydream of hers. To have it come true made her heart skip a few beats, albeit Luke held her as if she meant everything to him. And a part of her believed it.

“No music is worth making, Julie, if we’re not making it with you.”

His words echoed in her head as she buried herself under the covers, her face heating up as she groaned into her hands. Luke and their “interesting little relationship” were another concern in her mind. Something had changed between them, but with all the chaos surrounding them, she hadn’t had a moment to talk to him, or rather, she had no clue how to bring it up to him… her almost alive but not crush. This past week, they were left with longing glances, shy smiles, and tension that even Reggie could notice. But it wasn’t the only thing killing her.

After the night of the Orpheum, Julie found herself in a dizzying realization that she barely knew about the lives the guys had before they died. Of course, she heard stories occasionally, and the ’90s impact never left their sides, despite the fact some of their references didn’t stick with her. Ultimately, they were still the same 17-year-olds as 25 years ago; all those years felt like nothing to them. Yet they pushed through to let go of the past and focused on the future. Instead of Sunset Curve, their future was Julie and the Phantoms, and they couldn’t be happier.

Yet Julie wasn’t. It didn’t stick right with her that they were practically caught up with her current life. The guys had begun catching up on music, trends, and even movies, even if they were still behind. They knew the latest gossip at school, the new vocabulary, and heck, with the new abilities they carried… It was even possible for other people to see them, too. Although Willie had advised them to play it safe and stay in the garage as things calmed down, they hadn’t tested that theory out yet. Regardless, she felt like a total asshole for not being more involved with their lives, or rather with the lives they had. They had put in so much effort to be in hers, and she adored it more than anything. They were her home, after all. (It was close second place with Flynn, but Carlos, Rose, and Ray always came first.) But she couldn’t help but wonder what they did in their free time, how hard it was at home, and how school was for them. Alex was most likely a fantastic student, Reggie was the class clown, and Luke could have made Sunset Curve the greatest accomplishment of their school. But she couldn’t have known, and she’ll never be able to experience it firsthand. That’s the part that kills her.

There’s a particular grief she’s experiencing, and she feels selfish for feeling it in the first place. But she grieves the lives they could have lived if they were alive today. She understands this new second chance is everything to them, but it’s unfair that their first chance was even ruined in the first place. She understands there’s a massive weight on their shoulders that remains. She wishes she could help them and alleviate some of that trauma. Like how she did for Luke when speaking to Emily… But there’s only so much she can do. That’s where her frustration comes in; she wishes she was more help, and she feels like an idiot for not doing much for them. They made her feel alive again; she could never repay that blessing.

She shuffles around in her bed as her mind wanders to Luke. She shakes the thought away as she sits up and looks out her window at the sunrise.

Past. Present. Future.

What could she do to make this second chance perfect? Was she doing the best she could? Were they happy? What if she loses them again? What if, after everything, she’d be back at square one, grieving and mourning? What could have been? She only snaps out of her spiral when a familiar blonde ghost knocks through her door.

“Julie?” She can almost laugh at how hesitant Alex sounds. He’s the only one so far who’s understood the word “boundaries,” and she appreciates how respectful he is when entering her space. The garage is left for the boys, but when it’s her room, it’s her space alone to breathe. He gets that.

“You can come in,” she coughs to clear her morning voice. She bets they’re the only ones awake right now. “Don’t judge too hard; I don’t look my best! I just woke up.”

He eventually walks in with a small smile, sporting his iconic pink hoodie, but he seems more reserved than usual. “Nothing to worry about.”

“Are you okay?” Julie automatically feels concerned as she looks at Alex. They share lingering eye contact before he looks away at the wall.

“No, yeah, uh, sorry. I just couldn’t sleep anymore. I was looking for some company. Would it be okay if I stayed here with you? Luke and Reggie are fast asleep, and I didn’t want to wake them up. You were the best option. I was just hoping you were awake–”

Before he continues explaining, she pats her bed, asking him to lie beside her. Alex eagerly follows, and his head rests on her lap. Julie can’t help but smile a little. After all the new contact, Alex seems to seek her affection the most. He’s still adjusting to the warm skin, eating again, sleeping again schedule. You know, the basics of life, and she’s happy she’s some comfort to him. But he’s still missing something, and she can only assume it’s the presence of a particular ghost. She hadn’t heard much about Willie, but it was so clear Alex was head over heels for him.

“You’re always welcome to stay here, Alex. You know that, right? And don’t worry; I’ve been up a bit and can’t sleep much either.”

“Yeah. Thank you, Julie.”

Julie smiles at their shared acknowledgment. A few minutes pass, and now she’s running her hands through his hair, humming a familiar tune, but he can’t pinpoint what it is. The silence is comfortable, but he breaks it with a question that leaves a bittersweet taste in her mouth.

“We’re in the same boat, aren’t we?”

She’s not stupid and knows what he’s implying, but it’s hard to admit they’re both stuck in a loop of longing and confusion. She plays with her curls as she sighs in response and nods.

“You gotta talk to him, Julie. I know he’s probably as hesitant as you. But Luke means everything he says, you know? He’s just... He has a hard time putting words into words other than lyrics. He can’t say it, but I promise you he cares.”

That’s her problem. Luke cares too much, and so does she.

What an interesting relationship they have.

Past, Present, Future.

Notes:

hii! my name is ell, i'm a new fanfic writer out here!! anyway, i hope you enjoyed the first chapter of past, present, and future <3 i apologize if its no good, but i hope to only improve as i continue to write! so i hope you stick around :D i wish it was a longer chapter but this is my test run HAHAHA, i hope u understand!

i truly do love this fandom, these couples, and this show so so much. :,) couldn't help myself, so i had to start writing too! i know we've def calmed down as a fandom, but i hope you guys are still here like me :)

i try to be as active as possible, and ill also try to update the moment i cannn! feel free to message me so we fangirl or fanboy together <3

thanks for entering my garden of love & admiration for this media !! ^^

[aloneinthehellfire]

In Love And Grief

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: El Hopper was unsure to her older sister’s behaviour. After the fall of Hawkins, you had been avoiding everyone, and they knew it was because of Eddie. His death had shaken your core. But El never truly understood until she caught a glimpse of how powerful grief really is.

request for @omgyoufoundnemostuff (who literally created this whole idea and it’s amazing)

Warnings: grief, mentions of death, pain and tears my loves

Word count: 5k (I got emotionally invested)

[A/N: this is pure sadness i apologise and i also apologise if it's bad cause i couldn't physically see what i was writing through my tears]

IN LOVE AND GRIEF

“Why are you so sad?”

El had been open to new experiences ever since leaving the lab, realising more and more of how it felt to truly be human. She was learning of things she would never understand locked in a bare room.

But one thing she truly couldn’t understand, was the power of grief.

She felt sad, of course. Max was in a coma, one El wasn’t sure she could pull her out of. But it wasn’t grief necessarily.

She had felt it when Hopper was claimed dead, something chipped at her heart, but she had always been open about her feelings. Joyce, Jonathan, and Will had all been there for her, listening and offering advice. So when she got him back, she was more than ecstatic to say the least.

But then there was you.

When Hopper had died, she had seen your sadness. She had been with you through it, caring for eachother as you both lost a father.

But when he came back, surprising you both at the cabin, that sadness never left your heart. And El couldn’t bear to see you like that. So, she started asking questions.

“Why is Y/n so sad?” El asks, looking to her boyfriend as he slips on his shoes, ready to return home after a long day with her in the cabin.

“Huh?” He whips his head up, frowning.

“Y/n.” She repeats, biting her bottom lip. “She doesn’t speak to me.”

“She’s…” Mike tries to find the right words, standing. “She’s just grieving, I guess. Eddie was her boyfriend. Look, I really need to get home before my mom freaks out but if you need me, just call, okay?”

He gives her a quick peck on her forehead before rushing out the door and leaving her sat in her own confusion.

Grieving. That’s what Mike had said. But surely you would be feeling better? After all, it had been months since Eddie’s death.

So many questions blurred through her mind, leaving a gnawing feeling in her stomach. She hated that you were hurting. And she wanted to understand, so that you didn’t feel alone anymore.

Once the front door closed, El quickly rushed out to greet Hopper, accepting the bags of groceries and helping him carry them to the kitchen.

“Thanks, kid.” Hopper smiles, setting out the food on the counter. He grabbed some plates out and couldn’t risk glancing at the door opposite the kitchen space, something unreadable in his expression. “Your sister been out of her room today?”

“No.” El shakes her head, frowning, “Why doesn’t she join us anymore?”

Hopper sighs, setting aside one of the plates. It was something he did regularly now, dishing out your food and bringing it to your room instead of having you sit at the table with the rest of them.

When he doesn’t answer, El prompts him more. “Is it because of Eddie? Because… because she lost him?”

Setting down the cutlery in his hand, he turns back to her and offers a thin smile. “She’ll be fine, okay? Nothing a little space won’t take care of.”

“But-”

“It’s better to stay out of it, kid.” He dismisses, pulling out something from the bag, “Hey, look. I got Eggos.”

El simply smiles before he turns his back, her eyes drifting to your bedroom door. Hopper told her to leave it alone, and usually she would listen. But you were her sister. And if you’ve taught her anything, it’s that sisters stick together.

“Why are you so sad?”

You sit up in your bed, slipping the headphones from your ears and resting them around your neck. El must have knocked, but you were too busy drowning out your thoughts to hear her.

“What do you mean?” You ask softly as she joins you on the bed, a worried frown on her face.

“Is it because of Eddie?”

Once his name left her lips, you felt your mouth go dry, and it all came rushing back. The laughs, the grins. The tears… the death.

“Yes.” You finally reply with a whisper, bringing your knees to your chest and willing the tears to stay away.

“Hopper said that you’ll be fine.” El relays, resting a hand on your shoulder and you let out a breathy laugh.

“That’s because Hopper doesn’t understand.” You sigh, attempting a brief smile at your sister.

“Why not?” She questions and you shrug.

“Because he didn’t know him like I did.”

Hopper made it very clear that he didn’t like Eddie Munson.

From the very first day of Freshman year, you had come home rambling about a new friend you made. You were over-excited to say the least, expressing how you found someone who liked the same music and was just as weird as you were. And Hopper rejoiced in that, knowing you struggled to make friends. Until he found out it was a boy.

Now, he tried his best to be patient, only being as involved as you would let him. But not after a few good rants to Joyce where she ultimately put him in his place and gave advice he would be dumb not to take. Joyce was always right.

It wasn’t until he learned of who this friend was that Hopper started to really have a problem.

Munson was a family name that he wasn’t exactly fond of. There were always reports of criminal activity marked around that name, stemming from robbery to possible suspects in murder. He knew Wayne Munson, a brother to said criminal, and found the man really just kept to himself. But he couldn’t help having low expectations of the younger boy.

The first time you had invited Eddie around was the first time you had seen your dad act strange. Eddie didn’t live too far from the trailer you lived in at the time, practically a five minute walk between homes, so the idea of having him for dinner wasn’t out of place.

Your dad had been cold and quiet, insisting on your door being open at least three inches when you and Eddie were doing homework. He made sure to always just be there, and when you questioned it, he simply glared and walked away. You were surprised Eddie even stayed your friend after that.

By your Senior year, you and Eddie were closer than ever. You and he formed the Hellfire Club, bringing out your combined joy of DnD and reaching out to kids that didn’t fit in. It meant Eddie visited more often, having to come to your cabin since moving out of the trailer.

And Hopper didn’t like that one bit. Maybe it was because El had just joined your small family, and Hopper was adamant on keeping her a secret. You knew about everything that had happened in Hawkins, the demogorgons and alternate dimensions. None of which you ever told Eddie. In reality, you just wanted to pretend like it never happened. You and Hopper had fought frequently that year.

“Why can’t you just leave us alone?” You ask, exasperated. Your dad had thrown Eddie out after ‘sitting too close’ with him on your bed and you were bound to be angry at him. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course I trust you!” Hopper yelled, but you didn’t flinch. “It’s him I don’t trust!”

“Eddie is a good guy!” You insisted and he scoffed, moving away to grab a beer from the fridge. “You just won’t give him a chance!”

“Trust me, I know boys like that.” He laughs coldly, leaning against the counter after taking a long sip. “They want one thing and one thing only. Don’t think I’m stupid, I know exactly what you two have been doing.”

You scrunch your face before letting out a harsh breath. “It’s not like that. And you’re not stopping me from seeing him. He...”

“Hm?” Hopper raises his eyebrows, crossing his arms and tilting his head at you.

“He’s my boyfriend.” You say, raising your chin and looking your dad in the eye.

You expected him to shout, to send you to your room and ban you from ever contacting Eddie again. Instead, to your surprise, he just laughed.

“Yeah, right.” Hopper grabbed his beer and walked to his chair.

“I’m not lying.” You frown, following him and stepping in front of the TV, making him groan.

“Come on, can you-” He starts, but you just fold your arms and stare at him. “Look, kid, I don’t care what he said or what you think he said. I’ve been through the high school sweetheart thing before and let me tell you this… you might think it’s forever, but you’re really just fooling around and he will be on to the next girl after graduation.”

Your eyes fill with tears and Hopper’s face drops.

“Shit.” He mutters, setting down his drink.

Before he can say anything else, you’re already storming off, slamming your bedroom door shut and he sighs, rubbing his face. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees El pop her head around her door and widen her eyes in confusion. Hopper knew he hadn’t handled the situation well, but he just wanted to protect you.

After that, Hopper was still convinced you and Eddie were nothing more than a fling. And when Eddie ended up not graduating with you that year, he had figured you’d grow out of him and move on with your life.

But your dad severely underestimated your feelings for Eddie Munson.

“You loved him?” El asks and you quickly nod, wiping a stray tear that fell down.

“I still do.” You shrug, and she thinks for a moment before bringing her head up to meet your eyes.

“Can I… see?”

“What?” You frown and she reaches out to hold your hand.

“I can go through memories, see the Eddie you knew.” She explains and your breath hitches.

“I don’t know…”

“Please.” El squeezes your hand and you sigh.

“Okay.” Finally agreeing, El shuffles to sit in front of you, crossing her legs.

She points to the radio on your bedside table and you hesitantly reach over to find an empty station, turning up the static until your sister nodded. Her eyes drifted around your room and you follow her gaze, watching as it landed on something that made your heart wrench. You lean across and pluck it from the table, handing it to her without another thought.

As she looks down at the black and white bandana, she takes a breath and looks back up.

“This will be kind of weird.” She says and you raise an eyebrow. “I have to go into your mind.”

“Of course you do.” You breathe out, watching as she ties the bandana around her eyes.

“Think of him.” She instructs quietly.

Her hands reach out and you catch them in yours. After a moment, you close your eyes and feel your mind start to drift to thoughts of Eddie. His hair, his rings, his smile.

And then, as you sit there with those memories, El finds them. And it was like she brought him to life again.

1981

You sat down in your last class of the day, fiddling with your jacket as the other Freshman students piled into their seats. You had chosen a spot at the very back, adamant on keeping to yourself. High school so far was as you expected; lonely.

Maybe it was because you were the daughter to the chief of police. Or maybe you just didn’t have the correct people skills. But everyone else here seemed to know exactly who they were friends with, and you hadn’t talked to another person since arriving.

The class was starting just as the door to the room swung open, the teacher rolling their eyes and ushering them inside. You kept your head down, doodling on the front page of your notebook. It started off as a flower but slowly grew into a hell-bent demon breathing fire. You had no clue why, either.

As the teacher started to drone about atoms, you hear a small cough next to you and you lift your head up to meet a pair of big brown eyes.

“Hey, do you have a pencil I can borrow?” He asks and for a moment, you don’t register what he’s saying. “And, uh… paper?”

“Sure.” You say hesitantly, ripping a page from your notebook and sliding it over with a sharpened pencil.

“Thank you.” The boy said breathlessly.

For the next few minutes, you couldn’t really focus on the class. Because you felt your eyes drifting to the boy next to you. The brunette had curly hair, falling just below his ears which implied he was growing it out. He wore a ring on his left hand that glinted against the fluorescent lights anytime he shifted in his seat. His ripped jeans and worn out long sleeved tee almost reflected your own dark outfit and you couldn’t help but think that if you were to make any friends in this place, you’d want it to be him.

So, as another minute ticked by, you made your move.

“I like your shirt.” You say quietly, eyes on the teacher to avoid being caught.

“Hm?” The boy looks at you with wide eyes, clearly surprised as to why you were speaking to him.

“Your shirt.” You repeat, risking a glance at him with a small smile. “Black Sabbath? So cool.”

You could see his wide grin from the corner of your eye as you continued shading in your sketch, the lesson long forgotten now. The teacher didn’t seem overly bothered about their students paying attention anyway since a group of boys in front of you hadn’t stopped talking since the lesson began.

“You know Black Sabbath?” He questions and you nod into your hand, elbow rested on the table.

“Yeah.” You shrug, “Last year, their lead singer bit a bat’s head off on stage. It was so-”

“Metal.” He finishes and you stop your sketch, looking at him. His eyes were searching yours, looking for answers, trying to figure you out.

“Definitely.” You grinned.

That day had been the day you met your best friend, your soulmate. You never spent time apart, not really. And as the years progressed, you only became closer.

1983

After everything that had happened at the beginning of the month, the only thing you had yearned for was normality. Demogorgons, superpowers, alternate dimensions. All of it was swarming around in your mind, poisoning your nightmares. You just wanted to forget any of it happened. To feel safe.

“Hey, look what I found.”

Eddie pulls something from under his bed, holding it up in victory before popping his head back into view, grinning.

“Wow.” You respond, slowly nodding. “It’s… wow.”

Eddie sends you a glare before jumping back onto the bed, the springs of the mattress reacting and causing you to jostle a bit. He slipped the found ring onto his finger, the silver joining his other ring as a pair and you tilt your head.

“See? They’re a set.” He smiles and you shake your head in amusement. “Okay, so, there’s meant to be three but two will do. I mean, I could...”

As Eddie rambles on about the rings he bought when he was a kid, your mind kept drifting back to the demogorgon you had fought in Jonathan Byers’ house. In the end, fire had been the only thing to take it. You couldn’t stop replaying the image in your mind, the flames dancing along pale grey skin.

“Earth to Y/n?” Eddie’s hand waves in front of your face and you snap back into the present, raising your head.

“Huh?”

Your best friend shuffled closer to you, dipping his head to meet your eyes. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah.” You attempt a smile, shrugging it off, “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Hm, yeah, don’t believe that for a second.” He narrows his eyes before suddenly grabbing your face, causing you to widen your eyes in surprise as he pulls you closer so your foreheads rested against eachother. “Tell me all your secrets.”

You couldn’t help the giggle that slipped from your mouth, causing his cheeks to dimple at the sound.

“Okay, okay!” You swat his hands away, still smiling. “God, you’re so weird.”

“Please, we wouldn’t be friends if I was normal.” He retorted and you laugh, nodding. “Seriously, whatever’s going on… you can tell me.”

“I…” You sigh, fingers fiddling with a loose piece of thread on his jeans, “I guess I’ve just been feeling a little overwhelmed, lately.”

“Everything okay at home?” Eddie frowns, taking your hand in his and you quickly nod.

“Yeah, yeah, of course. It’s just…” You tighten your lips. You couldn’t tell him what really happened. He didn’t deserve to be dragged into that mess. “School, you know? I-I’m pretty sure I’m falling behind.”

It wasn’t a lie. Since Will’s disappearance, you had been all over the place trying to help your friends that you hadn’t been focusing on school work. Your usual A’s and B’s had plummeted dramatically.

“Well that won’t do.” Eddie says, straightening and leaning over the edge of the bed to pull back up a few books laying on the floor. “We better get started.”

“What?” You let out a breathy laugh as he opens a textbook, looking up at you.

“We’re gonna study. Together.” He smiles, shrugging as if it didn’t bother him at all.

You watch as he picks up the pencil marking the page like a bookmark, slipping it behind one ear as he searched for the unit you were studying. A smile tugged at your lips.

Eddie always stuck by your side and never once complained about it. Every part of you adored this boy. You wouldn’t admit it before, but those butterflies in your stomach meant more than just gratitude. And that feeling in your chest would hold one of your favourite memories to come.

Because, as you stared at the boy in front of you, you knew this night was different.

That was the night you realised you were falling in love.

1984

The Winter Formal wasn’t an occasion you had looked forward to.

After volunteering at the middle school, you came to realise that these dances didn’t take your fancy. From the decorations to the music, you didn’t ever expect to have fun.

Standing at the side with Nancy, you took a sip of your drink and watched as your friend continued staring at a boy in a suit not far from you and you giggled.

“What?” She asks with a small smile.

“Just ask him to dance.” You say knowingly. And, with a sigh, she sends you a grateful smirk and walks over to him.

The smile didn’t leave your lips when you watched Nancy and Jonathan swaying to the music amongst all the other couples. They deserved it after the roller-coaster of a term you had.

It wasn’t until you felt a pat on your shoulder that your night improved miraculously. Because, stood in front of you in a suit that surely shouldn’t look that incredible on him, was Eddie Munson.

“Eddie?” You laugh as he shrugs shyly, soon adopting a grin as he leans on the table.

“Couldn’t let you deal with this torture by yourself, now, could I?” He says nonchalantly and you shake your head.

“Well, I’m really glad you’re here.” You smile. You didn’t miss the way he took in your appearance, eyes scanning over you. But not in the way most boys did. It was like he was taking in every little detail of your outfit, a shine in his eyes.

“You look amazing.” He says breathlessly and you couldn’t help the blush that crept onto your cheeks.

It had been a little over a year since you realised you were in love with your best friend. But, in that time, you’ve had to deal with the Upside Down and every little thing that came with it. You didn’t want to ruin what you and he had, especially since Eddie was the only thing in your life that made you feel safe.

“Not so bad yourself.” You reply, bumping his shoulder playfully and he straightens, pretending to adjust his tie.

“Oh, this old thing?” He jokes and you smile as he leans into you. “Wayne let me borrow it so please don’t let me spill anything.”

“I got you.” You assure and he toasts an imaginary drink to you.

For the majority of the night, you both stand by the table chatting for what seems like hours in the best kind of way. The music changed, people moving around you, but it didn’t matter.

“So…” Eddie pouts, resting his hand on his chin as he looks up at you from the table. You raise an amused brow and his eyes drift to the dance floor behind you. “Wanna dance?”

You struggle with words and just stare at him. Never did you imagine that Eddie would be willingly asking you to dance with him.

“I… what?” You say, dumbfounded and he chuckles, stepping towards you.

Making it as dramatic as he could, he graciously bows before extending his hand that no held three rings, looking up with a grin. “May I have this honour?”

You look at him with a purse of your lips, trying to hide the smile pushing its way to the surface. “You’re most definitely a weirdo, Eddie Munson.”

He laughs at your comment but is pleasantly surprised when you take his hand and start pulling him to the dance floor.

“But you’re my weirdo.” You say, and you had never seen Eddie’s face light up as much as it did in that moment.

As you held onto eachother, gently swaying to the music, you felt safe in his arms once again, like it was only you two in the room. Your heart beat faster with every touch until you gently pull away and look up at him.

His eyes searched yours one hand letting go of your waist and gently cupping your cheek. No words were needed to be spoken, no second thoughts. Everything you needed to know was in the way you both slowly leant in to eachother, barely daring to breathe.

It was a kiss you’d never forget. Not when it was meant to be.

1985

The Battle of Starcourt had been the worst day of your life.

Coming out of the burning building to find Joyce and El crying into eachother’s arms, you immediately knew what had happened. Even after his promise, your dad had died saving the lives of this town.

For the rest of the summer, you and El had been mourning. And you had to admit, having a little sister was one of the best things to happen to you. And after losing Hopper, you needed that little piece of family to survive.

It was Joyce that first suggested you move with them to California. She had taken you and El into her care, welcoming you to the Byers family, for which you were entirely grateful. Initially, the idea of moving was the worst idea in your mind. You didn’t want to leave your friends, the kids. You didn’t want to leave Eddie.

In fact, you only left Hawkins because Eddie convinced you to.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Eddie smiled at you, fingers brushing away a loose strand of hair covering your face. “It’s okay, remember?”

“I hate this.” You mutter, resting your forehead against his.

Around you, the others were loading the last of the boxes into the van and starting their goodbyes. You were leaving with the Byers to go live in California. And now you had to say goodbye.

“We’ll call as much as you want.” Eddie soothes and you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer. “This doesn’t have to be goodbye.”

“It’s not.” You say, pulling back to look at his doe-like eyes. “But I don’t know when I’ll be back. I mean…”

Your eyes drifted to the envelope still grasped tightly in your hand and Eddie nods, sighing.

Hopper had left you and El letters before he died. You weren’t sure when he had written them. El’s letter held words of what he wanted to say to her when Mike started hanging around more. But yours… yours seem to have been written a long time ago.

He had talked about your mom, how she died when you were young. Then about Sarah, the sister you lost. And with all that grief you both shared, he talked about how, when you were of age, he wanted you to live your own life. He wanted you to go further than he ever had, to take the leap, to get into the college of your dreams. And you did that.

Which meant that California was the first stop in living out Hopper’s dreams for you.

“I’ll come visit.” Eddie suddenly announces and you furrow your brows.

“Eds…” You knew he didn’t have the money. Hell, to even afford a plan ticket, he’d have to be working more hours than he should.

“I know.” He mumbles into your hair, placing a kiss.

“Sweetie?” Joyce’s voice makes you turn your head to where she stood, sympathetically smiling, “We’re leaving in five minutes.”

“I’ll be right there.” You promise and she nods, sending a brief smile to your boyfriend before walking over and joining the goodbyes.

“You did it.” Eddie grins and you raise an eyebrow. “You’re getting the hell out of Hawkins.”

“Yeah.” You breathe, stepping back. You shove the letter into your back pocket and feel your hand brush against something. You widen your eyes. “Oh, right!”

Eddie sends an amused frown your way as you grab the object and hold out your hand.

“I got this for you.” You say just as you uncurl your hand, Eddie’s eyes widening as he tenderly picks up the blue ring from your palm. “So you don’t forget me. Plus, your other hand was looking a little bare so I thought I’d start the collection off.”

He slips the ring onto his right hand before grinning that smile that made your heart flutter. He pulls you in for a deep kiss, hand cupping your cheek, another on your waist. You wished you could just stay like this.

“How could I ever forget you when you’re the best thing in my life?” Eddie says once your lips are free, stroking your cheek. “You’re my forever.”

You let out a breathy laugh, tears threatening your eyes just as Joyce calls out for you.

Rather than speak, you give him one last kiss, a squeeze of your hand, before pulling away and walking towards the car, Jonathan already waiting with a sad smile.

The last thing you saw as you pulled away was Eddie’s smile, his precious wave, as you disappeared into the distance, heart aching.

You couldn’t wait to see him again.

1986

Sat in the back of the van, you all fell into a sort of silence once you passed the Hawkins sign.

Your home town was covered in a thick cloud of smoke, families packing up and leaving. The vines wrapped across the buildings made your breath hitch.

You had been shot at and chased, desperately trying to find your sister after she had been taken away. And ever since then, you’ve had to deal with the Upside Down even after you thought you had heard the last of it.

After all you had been through, you just wanted to be home again. But this didn’t feel like your home.

Clutching El’s hand, you see the Wheeler house roll into view, sharing smiles with Mike and Will. Argyle parked up and once the van doors slid open, you were greeted with smiles you thought you’d never see again.

It was a mess of hugs, your path leading you towards Robin and Steve as you all rejoiced. The three of you had been inseparable last year after being condemned to slinging ice creams for the summer.

Pulling away, you look at all the happy faces, a smile on your face. Your eyes glanced over to the boy standing not far from the group, hugging his torso. Your smile faded.

When Dustin raised his head and met your eyes, you frown.

Walking over, you shake your head. “Are you okay?”

Dustin swallows some form of guilt, shifting. You notice the silence that waved across the group, some sharing equal looks of confusion, others of sadness. Why?

Then, with a weight on your chest, you looked around once again, hoping to find that familiar grin. You had been told the party had joined the Hellfire Club. Surely they would have told him you were coming back?

“Where’s Eddie?” You ask with a small voice, your eyes looking back at Dustin. And when his face drops, so does your stomach.

He had been gently about it, pulling you aside and explaining everything that happened. From Chrissy all the way to the bats. It didn’t take long for the tears to stream down your cheeks, Dustin sharing in your hurt.

“He wanted you to have this.” Dustin sniffled, reaching into his pocket and revealing something in his palm. A choked sob left your lips.

You take the blue ring, gently stroking the surface of it and squeezing your eyes shut.

It felt like your heart had been shattered to a million little pieces.

The memories come to an end and you open your eyes, noticing your sister’s face bore matching tear stained cheeks.

Her grip on your hand was tight, her breathing heavy. You find a tissue by the side of your bed and gently wipe away the blood on her upper lip.

“You’re my forever.”

You freeze, heart pounding.

El pulls away the bandana, setting it down on the bed, as she looks up at you.

“How did you…” You shake your head. Those words…

She carefully reaches out and taps the blue ring on your right hand, smiling as she clutches her chest. El felt your pain; she had just lived it through your memories. She knew know.

“He’s still here.” El nods quietly, placing her hand over your heart as tears spill from your eyes. “And here.”

She gently taps your forehead before you pull her into a hug, squeezing your eyes shut. Once you hear the door open, however, you pull away.

“Everything alright in here?” Hopper asks, walking into the room and immediately noticing how you were desperately trying to wipe away the warm tears from your face. “Honey, what’s going on?”

He quickly crosses the room and sits beside you, pulling you into a hug. You softly cry into his shirt and he just holds you there, kissing the top of your head. When you don’t reply, his eyes drift to the girl in front of him.

“El? What happened?”

“Love.” El says quietly, stroking the fabric of the black and white bandana in her hands.

Hopper frowns. “Love?”

“She loved him.” El explains with a shaky breath. “Her heart was full of love. But he’s gone. And it’s broken now.”

Hopper glances between you and El, eyes drifting to the blood soaked tissue as he connects the pieces. He quickly pulls El into the hug, holding you both with a soft frown. He never knew how wrong he was about you and Eddie until it was too late.

El understood that grief now, the pure agony you felt knowing that the one you loved was gone forever.

And now, knowing how it felt, she swore to help you through it. In love and grief.

[ultrabrokengirlposts]

and then you showed up.

pairing: miguel o'hara x spider-person!reader (intended to be afab, but there's no description of the reader :3)

summary: your getting used to working with the spider society, until you find out something miguel has been keeping from you.

warnings: more angst, mention of character death but no description, miguel being his normal self, feels, no use of y/n

word count: 756

note: well, it's the long awaited part two! only three people asked for this, but i've had part of this written for awhile. enjoy!

since joining the spider society, life had been great for you. it helped take your mind off of life, helped you put your energy into something good. 

you, of course, knew about miguel’s mission: protect the canon. you only ever saw him when he sent you on missions and during mission reports, which helped your grief. you were still getting used to him being another version of your late fiance. 

even though a year had passed since you joined, it hadn’t gotten any easier seeing him. but you had made plenty of other friends. jess was one of the people you were closest to. she gave great advice, for missions and regular life. like an older sister. but there were times she said things you were sure had been meant to stay secret.

“you know, miguel was the one who chose you. i didn’t have to beg him to recruit you,” she said as she took a sip of her water. the both of you were relaxing in the cafeteria.

“really?” you weren’t sure why, but that surprised you. he often acted like you were a nuisance. 

jess shrugged. “yeah, i guess he felt bad about what happened with your fiance. canon event aside.”

you paused, your brows furrowing. “wait, what do you mean?” but you didn’t need her to answer. you had a feeling you understood well enough what she meant. you excused yourself and quickly made your way out of the cafeteria.

—

"you knew?!"

"have fun dealing with that," lyla told him as you stormed into his office, blipping out of sight. miguel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose but didn't turn to face you.

"i'm busy. can we please deal with whatever you're upset about at a later time?" 

but you didn't leave. you didn't turn, grumbling about how he was always busy, always working. you used your webs to catapult yourself up to his platform desk and shoved him.

"hey, what the-"

"you knew he was going to die and you didn't do anything to stop it?" you were seeing red, not just because of the lighting in his office. you were angry, livid. and despite the fact that miguel looked like your late fiancé, you wanted to hurt him.

miguel turned to face you but you didn't cower, didn't back down. even though he looked terrifying. "it was a canon event, i couldn't interfere." he said it with such little emotion, such a stoic face, that it pissed you off even more.

"canon ev-" you cut yourself off, letting out a laugh of disbelief. "he was you! the love of my life that i watched die with my own eyes. in my arms." you had started poking his chest with every word. "all because of your stupid fucking mission to keep the multiverse safe?"

"it was one person over bill-"

you let out another laugh, taking a step back as you put your hands on either side of your temple. "oh, fuck you, miguel. you don't care about anyone but yourself and your fucked up mission." you wanted to hit something, you wanted to hit him.

so you lunged for him. he stepped to the side and you nearly face planted into the console table. you turned, ready to punch him and he caught your wrist.

"fighting me won't bring him back. he wouldn't want you to be angry, he was fine with the way he went."

"don't talk about him like you know him! he would've wanted to live. to get married, have a kid." you fought against him, trying to get yourself out of his grasp. "grow old with someone he loved. you don't-" when had you started crying? your struggling slowed to a stop as you hung your head, your shoulders shaking slightly from your sobs. "you don't get it. the wedding was two months away. i lost everything."

he dropped your hand and you took a step back, wiping the tears off your face. "and then you showed up and i thought-"

"in another life, maybe." your gaze shot up at his murmur and you took a few stumbled steps back. the realization hit you. not only did he know, he watched. he watched the fight against the vulture. he watched you finding him. he watched your heartbreak and your anger. he watched everything. and he didn't tell you.

"you. . . i can't do this." you had to leave before you broke entirely. you turned, using your webbing to drop yourself from the platform.

and you left.

[dangerpronebuddie]

Now that it's been pointed out to me, I can NOT stop thinking about it! It's a long ramble, so it's under the cut.

Eddie runs when things get tough.

Shannon got pregnant-> military

Shannon wants to move-> he shuts her out

Parents want to take Chris-> moves away

I am in no way blaming Shannon here, but I am saying that this is probably where most of this behavior was learned. It could even be from Ramon always being away, and being emotionally absent when he was present.

The thing is, when Eddie ran, no one stopped him. Shannon didn't put up a fight when he joined up. His parents let him walk away. When Buck wants to talk about the shooting and Eddie shuts down, Buck doesn't push.

So Eddie has learned he can get away with it. No one's going to push back, so why push at all?

I have noticed that he doesn't enter arguments unless provoked. When he comes home from Afghanistan, his parents and Shannon criticize every little thing. So he puts up his carefully crafted walls and shuts them out. He only starts the peacocking gym fight when Buck turns his aggression on Chimney.

Now the grocery store fight is a whole other ballgame. It's grief disguised as anger. I will admit, and I will die on this hill, that Eddie's "you're exhausting" comment was uncalled for and I would've burst into tears if someone said that to me. But that's what grief does to him. It's so overwhelming, and having grown up in a house where he had to be the man of the house as a child, showing no emotion, it's not surprising. If you're not angry when you're upset, you're not a man.

But I'm getting off track (as usual.)

My point is, no one's given him reason to keep fighting through the issue, so he simply walks away from it.

Which makes the cemetery scene even more incredible and interesting. Frank is my hero, honestly, and Eddie's growth has been amazing to watch. He's not running from Buck in the cemetery scene, he's offering Buck the chance to fight for them.

Instead of taking the lead, being in control, or walking away, he's giving the reigns to Buck. His last attempts at trying to get Buck to get over his near death experiences didn't work. He tried to get Buck out of his own head with the ladder truck, so he makes Buck go out into the world again. Only to be caught in a tsunami. He tries again (poorly) in the grocery store scene, asking him why he can't move on and suck it up. These attempts only made Buck internalize his emotions. Because that's all Eddie knew.

Thanks to Frank, Eddie's learning. So instead of inserting himself into Buck's issues and trying to make things right as fast as possible, he's actually allowing Buck "time to process" (seriously, how could Eddie possibly give such advice to others when he couldn't follow his own in s4?)

He lets Buck come to him in 6x12, and only asks how Buck's really doing after they talk. He's trying to follow Buck's lead for a change.

Same with the cemetery and "you don't have to be anything for anybody." Buck keeps looking to Eddie like Eddie's supposed to tell him what to do, but Eddie's learned that that doesn't work. Buck HAS to make decisions for himself or he's never going to grow. So, Eddie thinks that if Natalia is who Buck wants, then he won't stop him.

Now he did comment on how it was a bad idea for Buck to date people they've met on calls (kinda hypocritical dude!), but that's the only objection he's voiced.

Something else just popped into my head about how Eddie came to this conclusion. He saw Buck with Taylor and without her. Guess which version he preferred? Which version was happier?

That's because, when Buck breaks up with her, it's his decision. He chose to end things instead of waiting for "when the woman flees." Buck stumbles into relationships, and waits for shit to hit the fan. He doesn't put in the work either.

Buddie can either be really really good or really really bad with this. Eddie leaving the ball in Buck's court lets Buck make the decision to be with Eddie. He has to confess, because Eddie's resigned himself to pining forever. When Buck does, they can either have hundreds of problems, or learn to communicate and operate as a couple.

Forcing the decision into Buck's hands makes him choose for himself what he wants. Buck always has to be chosen, but Eddie's telling him he doesn't have to be. Eddie's always choosing, so giving Buck the lead is not only a huge display of trust, but it's a giant step forward in terms of how Eddie handles relationships.

Now, had Eddie not done this, this might've been a major issue for them. Buck would keep following Eddie's lead, not put in any effort, and Eddie would bail the moment they had even a small tiff.

But thanks to giving the decision to Buck, they have a better chance at a successful ship.

What needs to happen now is they need to address the things they haven't dared talk about. Namely the will, the shooting, and the lightning.

I know the show doesn't leave loose ends, and foreshadowing (especially when it comes to Eddie) can take several seasons to unfold. So, it's not improbable that the Will will be brought up again. I know they talked about Buck's death and the shooting, but not what it did to each other. And, I have a little theory about Eddie's comments about the shooting.

He remembers more. His body language in that scene absolutely says so. He barely looks at Buck, does a subtle head shake, and keeps his comments to a minimum. Because he needed to in that moment. Telling Buck everything he actually remembered wasn't what Buck needed. Buck needed the assurance that he was going to get better. That he'd actually process it. Eddie couldn't tell him the whole truth and expect Buck to feel fine about it.

Welp... this got way out of hand very quickly. Random thoughts while doing dishes will do that, I guess. I just think the cemetery scene has a lot more layers than I first noticed, and every time I think about these two, something new to analyze comes up.

[abarbaricyalp]

Written for the @samsseptember prompt Riley // Rated G // CW: death, grief // title from the Laura Gilpin poem "Life After Death"

A Dead Tree Casts a Shadow

"Hey, Rye," Sam greeted as he dropped a backpack full of food to the ground and shook out the blanket under his arm. He laid it on the ground, tamped down the sun dried grass underneath it, and then sat and began to distribute the food.

"I just happened to be passing by and you know I've always gotta stop. I didn't mean to come this way, but I've been following a lead and he's dragging me all over the place."

Sam propped a beer and a Dr. Pepper against the gravestone. The screw top caught on the engraved letters that spelled out Beloved Friend, which was fitting enough. Really, it could have just stopped at Beloved.

"This is a crazy story," he admitted in half a chuckle, even if there was something a little darker, a little more bitter behind his voice. "This guy I'm kinda seeing--you may have heard of him, Steve Rogers, right?--dragged me into this mess. His best friend came back from the dead. Can you imagine? Hey, are you planning on doing that to me?" He reached over to rap on the stone and then smoothed his hand over the ground in front of it.

"Kinda wish you would," Sam admitted. "Even if you came back as much of a pain in the ass as this guy. Hey, you were into Captain America. Who the hell is Bucky Barnes? What kind of name is that? I know he was the handsome one in the photos. The one that died, obviously. I've been trying to do research on him but it would be so much easier if you just info-dumped on me. I know you know useless shit like his favorite record. Come on. Come back just long enough to tell me."

The ground did not part like some great, giving maw and Riley didn't pull himself out, bitching about dirt in his hair and 'why the hell did they bury me in black? I said blue.' Sam still watched for too long and then sighed.

"I guess it's only fair. Barnes didn't actually die. Rogers couldn't go down after him to bring home a body. I had you. I carried you."

The memory had been warped every which way to Sunday. Most of the time, he was saved from the true terror of it. In his memory, that old thing protecting him after all these years, Riley was just a little smokey and dusty, a little bloodied. Just dead enough that Sam couldn't argue about it, even as he begged Riley to wake up. In the nightmares, there was almost nothing left of him. Splatters of blood and uniform. Or a crawling, screaming zombie of bits and pieces. Really, it had been messy and horrifying. Sam hadn't really seen much of anything. Truly couldn't recall the exact state of Riley's body as he carried him away. He'd just known his best friend was dead and there was nothing that he could do to change it.

Nothing evil Nazis could do either.

"I miss you, man," he said softly. He rubbed the lip of his own bottle along the top of the gravestone and listened to the glass catch on the rock. "I'd almost convinced myself I was okay without you, but having friends again just makes it that much more obvious that you're not alone. I almost tried to text you the other day, y'know.

"Hey, you know it took your momma almost a year and a half to pull your number outta service? She kept saying it was the same price just to leave you on. You know how she is about that kind of thing. But I think she was calling you even more than me. Leaving all these voicemails just in case you might ever come back and need to be caught up thirty seconds at a time."

Sam bracketed his knees on either side of the gravestone and laid back in the blanket to watch the sky. There were two birds doing acrobatics on the breeze and, all of a sudden, hot tears sprang to Sam's eyes and choked him down the throat.

"I miss you so bad, man. I'm in the wings again. I kind of stole them back. And I love it. I love it just as much as the first time we strapped them on. And I hate myself for loving it. You're supposed to be here. It's not a solo operation. I look for you before every jump. I think about you every time I see a bird. And you're not here. You're never here. There's a whole empty section on my vital menus where yours are supposed to be.

"How am I supposed to do this, Rye? I'm one of a pair. And Steve, he's great, but he's not my other half. Not when I'm in the air."

He hadn't realized he was sobbing until he had to turn onto his side to avoid choking. The sky left his field of vision, replaced instead by a tranquil cemetery. Well, a blurry cemetery at any rate. There was no one else around, so Sam let himself curl up in the fetal position, squeezed his eyes shut, and tried to pretend him and Riley were twin commas in a huge bed. He hadn't done anything like this in months and months and months but he couldn't help it now. Even if he knew it wasn't going to work. He'd forced himself to stop picturing Riley next to him and now he couldn't make himself do it even under duress.

Of all the emotions he'd thought he'd have to deal with by tagging up with Steve Rogers, this bone deep ache for the things he'd lost hadn't been high on the list. If anyone had asked two months ago, he'd say he had friends. That he missed Riley but life had to go on and Riley wouldn't want him to mope. He hated moping. But evidently none of those friendships elicited the same kind of response that Riley had. Sam had barely known Steve before he started to fall back into old habits. Throw in a dead best friend come back to life and Sam was in further over his head than he anticipated.

There was no way Barnes could have known to drag Sam out here. After the program was grounded, all of Riley's information went behind walls of black marker. And Barnes would only have looked into it if he thought this was a good way to lose Sam's tail, which would imply he'd gleaned some amount of privy into Sam and Riley's relationship. All of it was impossible. Just a horrible coincidence. Or maybe a really good coincidence.

Sam had needed this. He could pretend that holing himself up in DC was actually steps in the right direction, that ignoring the ghost of Riley's presence, always right in his periphery, was the best course of action, that fiddling away time with mindless relationships was healthy, but he knew all of that was a lie. He couldn't just pretend this was fine. That he was fine. He clearly was not.

Man, he'd just jumped feet first into taking down a century old Nazi cult. And now he was hunting down an undead assassin who may or may not still be brainwashed. An assassin who had tried to plummet him to his death.

"He was rude about it too," Sam told Riley. He figured whatever Riley was doing, he could probably read Sam's mind. No need to fill him in. He turned over onto his back again. "He had this grappling hook thing that he shot at me. Why? That's not important. Point is, one second he was down on the ground doing these acrobatic jumps to avoid bullets--the dude can jump out of the way of bullets--and the next he'd yanked me out of the sky. Ripped the wing clean out of the pack. And then the motherfucker kicked me off the landing deck of a huge airship.

"You would've loved this thing, dude. It was like one of those navy jet ships you're so obsessed with, but in the sky. Man, I don't think I could've gotten you back off of it. You would have moved in and never left."

The birds had disappeared, following the current the way Sam and Riley would on the quiet days.

"You remember the first time the wings malfunctioned on us? When we were actually in the air? A whole system malfunction. We both lost control. Had to pull the parachutes for the first time. We pulled them so late. You probably broke your ankle but kept lying to the medical team. God, we were giddy when we landed. That freefall was unlike anything I've ever felt. I mean, it was horrifying, but wasn't there that moment where you just let yourself fall? Just felt the air and your stomach rushing by. The world was so far away."

Until it hadn't been.

"It felt like that again. I remembered to pull my parachute this time. You weren't around for me to fuss over, so I had more time to actually think. But it felt the same just for a second. I was less giddy on the landing. You weren't there to limp over to me on the ground, and I had someone to be mad at this time. But still. There was that flying-falling feeling that I only got with you."

The words ran out then, as quick as they came. There were a million other things he wanted to tell Riley, but nothing was sticking in his mouth. So he just sat up and parsed out the gas station picnic he'd brought. A whole extra meal for a man who couldn't eat it. But Sam would leave it out and maybe a different kind of shadow would take advantage of it before a billion bugs did.

He ate the sandwich and half the bag of chips in silence and had started to sort out a bag of M&Ms by color before he spoke again.

"I think I'm happy. Like, actually happy this time. I mean, I'm exhausted. This superhero thing is no joke. And weirdly lonely? I mean, Steve and me are together most of the time but I haven't met, like, Iron Man or Thor. I hang out with Black Widow though. You never stood a chance by the way. You would literally be like a cute puppy to her. But she's great. She's teaching me a lot. She's hilarious. But she's busier than Steve is. Has a real job in this organization, I guess.

"I forgot how good it could feel to be tired. Full days and new experiences. Chasing this other asshole all around. But, I mean, I'm getting that travel vacation I always wanted. Went to the coolest natural history museum. It was, like, a literal cave. And rock climbing. I had to do some crazy rock climbing. God, I just wish I could be doing this with you."

He laid out all of the yellow M&Ms across Riley's headstone and then leaned over to kiss the stone itself. "I'll see you later, man. Won't stay away for so long this time. Tell my mama and dad I said hi for me and I'll stop by and see your mama, alright? Be good."

He let himself trace Riley's name one more time before he stood up and collected his trash and blanket. He shoved it all back into his bag before casting one more look around. There was no one. No best-friends-come-back, no shadows, no other picnic-ers. Up in the sky, the birds had come back, circling around each other and tumbling down and then soaring back up with joyful little calls.

Sam smiled at them as his heart squeezed in his chest again. "Yeah, I see you, Riley," he said. "I'm right there too."

[crosshairct4]

Just a simple Bad Batch fanfiction.

This is how I imagine Crosshair will react when Omega tells him about Tech.

Title: It's Okay To Cry

Word count: 854

It was dark and it was cold. His fingers felt numb, as did his heart, which beat listlessly inside of his emaciated chest. He felt a warm hand on his cheek, and then heard a familiar voice:

“Crosshair… Crosshair, wake up… I need you.”

He groaned. How long had he been in this terrible place? It was difficult to say, but he had a ready answer in his head: too long.

The voice persisted.

“Crosshair… please.”

His eyes flickered. A familiar face swam into view, creased with pain and grief and hopelessness. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. His throat felt dry.

“Crosshair, you're awake.”

He sat up. He was in that kriffing cell again. Omega stood over him. He saw tear tracks on her face and knew she'd been crying. “So they caught you. I warned you to stay away… why… why didn't you listen?” he asked. His disappointment was immeasurable. Why couldn't his brothers and sister just follow orders? Why was it so difficult for them?

Omega touched his shoulder. “Because we’re family. We don't leave our own behind.”

His eyes got a little misty. He looked quickly away, afraid she would see how moved he was by her words. He had to maintain a stern front lest she glimpse the now fractured soul within him.

“We have to get out of here,” she said, grabbing his hand and tugging on it.

“I'm too weak,” he protested. The very thought of attempting an escape seemed to sap him of what little strength he had left. He didn't think he could make it. Worse, he didn't think he'd be able to protect Omega. “How long have you been here?” he asked.

“That doesn't matter,” she answered, taking a seat next to him. “What matters is that we’re together now. I can save you.”

Crosshair passed a hand over his eyes. Even after all he'd done, she was still willing to save him. He didn't understand it. Glancing over at her, he smiled a little, weary and doubtful though he was. He no longer felt alone, no longer felt as though the weight of the world balanced heavily on his shoulders. He decided then and there that he would help Omega escape Mount Tantiss, damn the risks. She didn't deserve to be trapped in this terrible, forsaken place.

“You're right, you know. We must get out of here,” he said.

“But how?” she asked.

Crosshair rested his chin on the palm of his hand. He had a lot of planning to do. He closed his eyes and began to bounce his knee, wracking his brain for ideas. He had a duty to protect Omega at all costs. He would lay down his life for her, if need be. “We wait for the opportune moment,” he told her calmly. He knew it would come. A little dose of patience was all that was needed.

Omega plopped down next to him with an audible huff which ended in a wince. She had cuts and bruises all over her face and she was limping. He wondered about her injuries, but only briefly; his mind was soon filled with their future escape attempt and he could think of nothing else but leaving this place far behind.

Omega tentatively rested her head against his arm. He didn't know how to respond to that and so he simply settled a hand on her knee and gave it a little squeeze.

“I will get you out of here,” he vowed softly.

“I know,” she murmured, sounding exhausted. “I know…”

“If Tech were here,” he muttered more to himself than to Omega, “he would know what to do.”

Omega dropped her gaze and her lip wobbled, something that wasn't missed by Crosshair. His heart gave a painful lurch. He turned to her and, kneeling down, took her shoulders between his hands. He saw pain in her expression. Something had happened.

“Crosshair, Tech… Tech’s gone,” Omega whispered, lifting her head and meeting his gaze. Her eyes were full of pain.

“Gone? What do you mean?”

“He…. Plan 99.”

All at once, Crosshair was hit with a multitude of emotions. He knew a pain so fierce and powerful, he had to sit down. He didn't want to believe it. Tech… the brother he loved most. The brother who understood him.

Tears stung his eyes and he quickly dashed a hand across his face before Omega could see. It was no use. She saw anyway. She sat next to him and took his hand, administering a gentle, comforting squeeze.

“It's okay to cry,” she told him in a voice trembling with grief.

Crosshair put his head in his hands and wept. He didn't hold back. Regret tormented him. Regret that he had chosen the Empire over his brothers. Had he been there when it happened… perhaps he could have saved Tech.

“He sacrificed himself for us,” Omega said softly. “We can't let that be in vain.”

Crosshair turned to her and nodded. No, they couldn't. They would escape Mount Tantiss. He would make sure of it.

[warmerthanhotcoco]

to live for

Draco apparates to “Where Dobby is”, only to find said elf’s grave. At least Aunt Trixie’s knife didn’t hit Potter… Who turns up right when he’s about to leave. So he decides to stay a while longer with this… newfound friend/secret lover.

Tags: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Golden Trio, Post-Malfoy Manor, Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, RIP Dobby, mild angst with comfort, gay wizard fluff, ✨Their First Kiss✨, just a lakeside Drarry date

A/N: To all this beautiful gayness in the world. Lol- And to my gay bestie. Faun, you'll always be the most casually beautiful, Pinterest-worthy girl in the world ✨ Have a lily from Drarry xx 💐

It was late at night, he could tell that much from the cold breeze humming from the lakeside. The Golden Trio had just returned from their first and probably last visit to Malfoy Manor. Harry Potter had just climbed into bed after a most tragic burial, and lay there staring up at the canvas roof of the tent. 

Merlin’s pants, it had been one mad rollercoaster ride. From being nearly caught by Greyback’s searchers… to Hermione’s hex-disguise on him… to Malfoy lying to save him… to Pettigrew meeting his long overdue end… to Dobby's sacrifice... 

Harry hardly had tears left tonight. 

The grief and exhaustion was too much. It was so bad for his friends that both had fallen asleep fast. Somehow, he was the only one up.

Nothing new there, I suppose.

The after-effects of Bellatrix Black's torture had been enough to make Hermione pass out onto Ron's lap over dinner. He'd left them both to their own side of the tent, a tinge of satisfaction at the whole ordeal bringing the two closer. 

But he couldn't ignore how it only made him feel lonelier. 

He shook his head and sat up, giving himself a slow moment of silence to see if he might just feel drowsy. Sleep never came. 

He slipped out of the sheets, dragged his feet outside. They had run out of whatever sleeping potion Hermione had, and the muggle sleeping pills were left at their last hideout.

Hands in his pockets, feet buried in the gravel (he ditched his shoes, too much noise), he took in a deep breath of the moist lakeside air and looked up at the sky. The crescent moon hung low overhead, lighting up the blanket of dark grey clouds. The sky wasn’t half as gloomy here as it was back in England. It felt nice. The warmth and brilliance of the moon was sort of a reassurance that he was safe here. That his friends were safe here. 

All at once, he was aware of a presence that radiated a feeling of security: a strong feeling of “I’m safe now” washed through him. 

Which was new given all he ever thought about was his friends’ safety. Others’. Most of whom he lost. 

Ugh, quit brooding, Harry. Let’s just… take a breather, he chided himself, walking across the banks to the little elf's grave. He could feel the warm presence still though he convinced himself it was merely the moon. His fingers wrapped tight around the wand just in case the presence was... deceiving. Another lie. 

Nothing had happened by the time he subconsciously stopped beside Dobby's grave. "Hello, Dobby."

The clouds cleared up a bit to shed more moonlight along the lake banks, and that was when he saw. Strings of elegant, shimmering flowers were strung around the headstone, wrapping up the rock firmly and yet tenderly. They were creepers of the finest, sparkliest lilies. The green of their stems and leaves, however, were an oddly familiar shade of dark green... and the flowers themselves had a magical glow to their even more familiar pristine, platinum white.

Years of duelling and fighting took action and made Harry grip his wand ever so tight ––

But one day of seeing the hidden truth kept him from attacking. 

So this was the “comforting presence” lurking in the dark… he lowered his wand. 

Harry heard a soft exhale. “You're not going to Sectumsempra me?”

“...you saved my life.” 

“Hm. Pity.” 

“What are you doing here?" The burning question spilt out of his chapped lips. What abominable reason could possibly bring... HIM... of all people... to this place, at this hour?

Draco Malfoy scoffed. “He was my elf before yours.”

Well, he had a point. Harry waited for any other remarks, any of the usual snarky comments... but none came. So he nodded, sat cross-legged on the sand, subtly shifting to the side. Draco walked into the light at last and Harry caught a glimpse of green turtleneck sweater and black coat. Draco pondered for a minute before sitting right beside the Gryffindor. 

Silence.

Both wizards sat there on the sand, staring at the white lilies glowing in the moonlight. Both are nothing but young boys being shoved into a war, left without a choice because of their parents. Both are young adults that were once merely children playing with Dobby secretly, in Malfoy Manor or Privet Drive: because neither family would have allowed it. 

Perhaps they both saw this at last. Perhaps they finally grew up. Perhaps that was why Harry waved his hand for a quiet wandless Accio charm. 

"Show-off," Draco mumbled when a Firewhiskey bottle flew somewhere out of Ron's secret stash and into Harry's grip. Harry held it out to his once arch-nemesis. The latter hesitated, staring silently at the dark, calloused hand before him.

Harry placed the bottle down, rolling up his sleeves.

“Those flowers—“

“They’re called lilies, scarhead.” 

“Right. They’re… nice.” 

“If that’s your best attempt at complimenting my magic then no thank you.” 

Harry sighed, shaking his head and taking another sip. He HAD to be drunk to be doing any of this. “They’re beautiful. Very.” 

“…Thanks.”

“But honestly, what’s with the green sweater?” Harry grinned. “Your mania over your house is far from just pride at this point—“

“It’s my favourite colour. For other reasons. Got a problem?” 

“What reasons to make the lilies look that greenish?”

“That was for you, you blasted idiot.” 

Green to signify Harry being Dobby’s closest friend? Or green lilies to comfort him? The way this is going, I’ll never know, the green-eyed son of Lily thought to himself, gulping down another two sips of Firewhiskey to calm his spinning head. 

Back to the silence. 

A slow breeze washed over them, splashing the string of lilies with a bit of moisture, sweeping over the grave. Both Gryffindor and Slytherin watched the draught glitter gold with sand; waltzing across the lake, away from them, over to the hillside. The lakewater splashed against the rocks, tide rising a little with the wind current. The gust of wind took away a lot more than just a pile of sand. Hatred… Coldness... 

He downed some more alcohol to hide the sudden smile. Silence was exactly what worked with the both of them, he concluded. They’d probably never be able to talk like normal humans.

“What are you, daydreaming?” 

Yep. This is exactly what I meant. “No, I realised we can’t ever talk without sounding like we’re duelling.” 

“‘Duelling’. A decent way to phrase it. I’d vote for ‘murdering each other’.” 

“Well what do you want me to do, apologise? You started it!” 

“You’re the idiot who decided to go against all Slytherins just because of whatever we did as eleven-year-olds on the first day of school!” 

“Well I’m sorry but you were being ridiculously rude—“

“I just wanted to befriend you, but all you did was scowl at me, what—“

“Draco.” 

“… stop that,” the blond looked away, tossing a handful of grass at him. 

Harry blinked in confusion, seeing the tips of the other’s ears gleaming red. “I’m sick of calling you your father’s name, it’s stupid,” he shook his head, delighted he really was drunk. “You’re nothing like him.” 

“He reminds me of that everyday, thank you very much.”

“Ugh, I meant you’re more…” Better? Understanding? Handso— What— Harry, get yourself together. “Humane. Than him. You’re better.” 

The red crept a little down his neck. “Whatever. Don’t expect me to call you Harry.” 

“That would need a miracle,” Harry laughed. “But Draco, I did want to be a friend, you know. I was new to the world, and you were the first I saw at Diagon Alley. When I saw you again at Hogwarts, I was happy, actually.” He scoffed sourly. “Until you decided to ridicule my first friend, that is…” 

Draco remained silent, drawing doodles on the sand, having plucked off all the grass nearby.

“You know, your sticky glossy hair never helped your impression, I hated the sleek look.” 

That won a laugh. “Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah. Looks much better now though.” 

Draco laughed again, nervously ruffling the back of his head. “You’re drunk bad, aren’t you?” 

Harry shrugged and offered the bottle to him. 

“I don’t want Firewhiskey.” 

“Then what do you want?” 

The sparkling platinum head snapped up in surprise, eyeing him to see if he was joking around or if the tone really did mean anything this time. Draco found the eyes a bit too intoxicating, more so than the whiskey bottle below, so he diverted his gaze away from their sharp green and down to the pink, injured lips.

…Bad idea.

“Eyes up here, Draco,” Harry smirked. 

“You’re seriously more drunk than I am,” Draco shook his mane. “If you’re such a bloody Gryffindor and you know what I want then I dare you to—“ 

His slurring words cut off as a pair of hands cupped his face, pulling him closer. Soft, chapstick-covered lips crashed against chapped, dry ones. On reflex, Draco punched his shoulder and grabbed him by the collar, but when Harry didn’t relent — or rather kissed him a little harder — he let go. Let go of the eight years of tension and sat there, eyes shut, drinking it in. He couldn’t help but smirk: Harry seemed to be enjoying himself. 

“What are you grinning for? Am I that bad at it?” Harry whispered, pulling away panting. 

“Hm, fairly tolerable.” 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” 

“Means you need more practice,” the Slytherin laughed. Wrapping one protective hand around the back of his head and the other cupping his chin, he pushed him onto the sand. Lips felt each other at first, before their tongues danced in a frenzy, like the draught of wind with its pile of sand. Harry found himself straddled and locked in place by a pair of perfect pearl-white arms. 

Not that he wanted to move away from this anyway.

Draco didn’t stop either, not until Harry tapped his back to come up for air. The blond rolled off the body underneath him and sat on the sand. Harry sat up to find him deep in thought, head hanging, skin aglow from the rising sun. “Draco?” 

“I have to go.” 

Harry felt his throat constrict, but nodded his agreement nonetheless. “You can’t stay? You’re not really with them… right?” 

Draco shook his head, openly denying it for the first time in his life. “I have no choice, just like you. Mum…” he bit his tongue. 

As it finally dawned on Harry why Draco was doing all this, he sighed. “I see. She’d be looking for you then,” he pointed to the specks of sunlight dotting the horizon. 

Draco nodded. “I…” He didn’t know what to say, or rather how to. So he rose to his feet, dusted off the sand. 

Harry stood too. “Erm,” he held Draco’s shoulders still to leave a light peck on his cheek. The Slytherin blushed hard, punching him lightly in the stomach while the other laughed. “I’ll see you around, Potter.” 

“Someday,” Harry nodded back.

And just like the wind, he disappeared.

“Thank you, Dobby,” he whispered, patting the grave. Because had it not been for Dobby, the Gryffindor hero who lost almost everyone, had just found another person to love, to live for.

[lesetoilesfous]

Akajsjjdhajja you're taking prompts!!!

I'm here with Fenders (shocked?) and the Anders themed list, Florence and the Machines #1. Happiness is uneventful. I couldn't post the whole quote on mobile, I'm too incompetent lmao.

Happy DADWc!

Hehe thank you so much!!!!!!! Ok so I MESSED UP and started writing the wrong thing, you're gonna get another one in just a sec.

The quote I thought you meant is "And I never wanted anything from you, except everything you had, and what was left after that too"

(I realise now you meant another one. Two cakes?)

If you want me to write a Dragon Age fic for you, send me a prompt!

Pairing: Fenders

Characters: Fenris, Anders

Tags: post-boom, angst, figuring stuff out

Rating: Mature

It's been three days. Fenris has been...almost entirely silent, speaking only to direct Anders - his bad knee, blind grief and uncomfortably silent Justice - away from some unforeseen trip hazard, or onto more stable footing as they make their way up into the Vimmarks. Anders doesn't know how much more silence he can take. (It's been a month by now. Surely they can't mean to keep him longer still?) Anders sets camp, taking time to set what wards he can think of: standard tripwires and anti-magic spells. Fenris does his own patrolling, though he doesn't say as much, muttering something about firewood. By the time Anders is done with his spellcraft, a small fire is already crackling in a little ring of soil-covered pebbles, snapping at the darkening sky.

Fenris gets up when Anders approaches, moving to his bedroll. Anders' voices gets caught in his throat, but he is not able to stop his hand from reaching to bridge the darkness between him and his one-time lover.

Fenris stops, and his white hair and lyrium are almost luminescent in the twilight. For a long, long moment silence stretches between them - filled only the sound of the mountains at night. The howling, mournful wind. A lone owl setting out in search of her prey. The trees, sighing their aches to the sky.

"What is it?" Fenris isn't looking at him. Hasn't done since -

Anders' voice is still trapped in his throat. His fingers curl, aching a little over where they were broken once (more than once, a long time ago). He shakes his head, looks down at his feet. "No, sorry, it's nothing."

Fenris lets out a sigh, explosive in the quiet, and steps closer. Anders watches his bare feet tread through the grass and scree, always amazed at how quietly he manages to move - even up here, where the ground crunches its discomfort at every footstep.

"Is something wrong, mage?"

"You used to call me Anders." He speaks without thinking, and regrets it when he does, watching a muscle in the corn of Fenris jaw twitch as he presses his lips tightly shut and slowly uncurls his gauntleted fingers at his sides. Anders' mouth as he breathes is full of the taste of woodsmoke.

Fenris shakes his head, and there's half an angry smile on his face when he lifts his eyes to meet Anders' gaze for the first time in - Maker, how long has it been?

Fenris' eyes are brilliant as emeralds in the dark, and they glitter with a tired kind of humour. "What do you want of me, m-," He stops, sighs, bares his teeth. "Anders"

"I- nothing." It's so cold.

Fenris looks away from him, down toward the tree covered slopes, shrouded in evergreens like a skirt billowing in ripples around the mountains. "I do not know what else I can give you." When he speaks, Fenris does so quietly.

"I never -"

"You did!" Fenris' voice echoes off the mountain slopes, and his chest heaves with the speed of his breath. Anders cringes, and Fenris leans away from him like an archer's bow releasing. "You never stopped. You never stopped asking for everything, from all of us, until finally you asked so much that -" Fenris stops, bites off the end of the sentence, and turns away from Anders entirely. "We both need sleep."

He walks away before Anders can reply. In Anders' mind, Justice's silence is one long howl of grief.

[tragcdysewn]

was that zhao lusi? oh no no, that was just xiao qing, a canon character from the untamed. they are nineteen years old, use she/they, and are aware that they are not actually from washington dc. too bad they can’t stray from this city for long.

how long has your character been here:

a little over two years

what is your character’s job:

girl has mastered internet scams!! she can steal from people without even leaving their house! incredible!

where has your character been pulled from in their fandom:

the moment of her death in the live action version of yi city

has any magic affected your character:

she has her tongue back, and can speak

and any other information you might find useful for us and the other members to know:

a-qing was abandoned at birth, or very near it, by a poor couple who couldn't afford to have a child. she grew up almost entirely on the streets, stealing and scamming people to survive

she realized quite young that their unique appearance, eyes that were entirely white despite there being no damage to them, could help them, as no one would suspect a girl they thought was blind of robbing them

they used this to her advantage, and played it up for pretty much her entire life. until one day, she got caught, and was saved from a beating by the cultivator xiao xingchen. they decided to follow him, because 'blind people should stick together', and they traveled together from then on

xiao xingchen became like a father or an older brother to a-qing, and she cared for him deeply, even trusting him enough to ignore their own instincts when the cultivator took in an injured man they found on the side of the road

she had a bad feeling about the man, but couldn't explain why. he began testing their blindness, seeing if she was lying or not, though they were good enough at faking it by now to pass his tests

it all came to a head when another cultivator, song lan, arrived at their residence in yi city, looking for xiao xingchen. he warned a-qing that the man was xue yang, and that he was a dangerous killer. before they could warn xiao xingchen, however, xue yang tricked the blind man into thinking song lan was a fierce corpse and murdering him, as he'd done so many times before

a-qing panicked, and hid herself away, though she witnessed xue yang reveal to xiao xingchen what he'd done, and witnessed him kill himself in grief for his friend, before running away

unfortunately, xue yang caught up to them. he blinded her for real and cut out their tongue, leaving them for dead. but she managed to survive, and returned to yi city to attempt at getting some justice for her friends, eventually achieved when she helped wei wuxian and the juniors kill xue yang, though they died in the attempt

in dc, she's taken to using xiao xingchen's surname, even after reuniting with him, though they're hiding the truth of how things ended from him, for fear of him being unable to handle it

[americasass81]

A Brighter Tomorrow

Warnings 18+ for the following:- Use of Pet Names, Implied Character Death, Mentions of Loss of Loved One.  Seriously do not read if any of this upsets you, the warnings are there for a reason.  Feedback is welcomed and any mistakes are my own.

By proceeding you are acknowledging that you are over 18 and are consenting to the content below the cut.

Author’s Note 1:- This is for @caplanbuckybarnes 1k Followers Summary Writing Challenge. Congratulations on this milestone and for such an amazing and inspiring challenge.  It really called to me.

Challenge Summary:- Remember when you said you’d marry me?  Today’s our wedding day and you’re not here to see it.  (See text in bold)

Author’s Note 2:- As always, all images have been found through google search.

Pairings:- Tony Stark x Female Reader

Total Word Count:- 1,333

Standing before the three full length mirrors in a dress of sheer white that hugged your body perfectly, your breath caught in your throat at the vision that stared back at you.  Seated in the high back chair behind you reserved for the mother of the bride or some other member of the bridal party, your head told you this unnatural reflection was simply your grief manifesting itself on the day that was in it, but your heart refused to listen.  How could it not?  After all, this was supposed to be his day too.  Taking stock of both of your reflections now as your eyes locked with his, you knew it was bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding.  But then again the worst thing that could go wrong had already gone wrong.

Both horribly and tragically wrong.

Tightening your right hand around the letter now as your left hand skimmed the lace beneath your fingertips, it still shocked you that with all the technology at his disposal he had chosen pen and paper to record his last thoughts and words to you.  As if you needed them.

Rising from the chair and coming to stand behind you now, you felt his presence like a wound that stubbornly refused to heal.  And in a way you supposed that seemed wholly appropriate.  For what else was Tony Stark in life if not stubborn to a fault.  So stubborn in fact that it seemed even death itself couldn't keep him from you.  But it should have.  For he was gone now and as your thoughts drifted once more to the letter, the day and the memory of the man you loved, you let the craziness take over as tears slowly showed the unbelievable pain of his loss.

Yet it seemed in that loss there was a final little miracle that might just bring the healing your soul cried out for.

Turning around to face Tony now as the bridal platform brought your head level with his, you heard his voice again and saw his sweet lips move as he broke the silence and gave a voice to the question you had been asking yourself all day.  "You look absolutely stunning darling as I knew you would, but what exactly is your game plan here?"

Looking down at your dress again as you now thought of all the professionals you had canceled, the guests you had told not to come, the family members you had begged to just let you be, you knew coming here and putting on the dress had been the height of insanity.  But what else could you do?  You had dreamed of this day for so long.

Of course, you never dreamed you'd be marrying Tony Stark, but then maybe that's why things had gone so terribly wrong.  But still, this was where the happiest day of your life was meant to play out and if you couldn't say a final farewell to your dreams here, then where could you?

Regaining your composure then and taking a deep breath as you thought once more on what Tony had asked, you raised your head to look at him again and replied in return with the one thought that had haunted you since before you woke up that morning and now kept you tethered to this place.  "Remember when you said you'd marry me?  Today's our wedding day and you're not here to see it."

Taken slightly aback now by this remark and the hurt so deeply evident in every word you spoke, in death it seemed he still longed to comfort you even if that ability was no longer afforded to him.  It wouldn't stop him from trying though.

Reaching up his hand then to brush along your cheek though it never kissed your flesh, the memory seemed enough to sustain the both of you however as he soldiered through with the thoughts his hand had failed to convey.  "Darling, I know I promised you the world and we both know I didn't write down everything I wanted to say to you.  But please accept, if it was in my power to be right here with you today ... nothing would have kept me from you.  You were my whole world and ensuring your survival was the only thing that mattered to me."

"But Tony, this isn't survival," you interrupted sadly as your body ached to bury itself against his while his strong arms held you once more and offered a strength and sense of safety you'd never known before him and now never would again.  "This is me left behind to figure out how to live my life without you.  Where do I even begin?" you beseeched brokenly.

Gazing at you now with a look that told you he was privy to information no one else possessed, he smiled the smile that always made you trust whatever he said before he spoke again.  "You begin darling by promising me you won't waste a single day not living your life.  Get out of that dress, leave this place and carry on my legacy.  All I was is yours now darling, protect it and watch it grow."

Baffled now by what he told you that sounded both completely normal and yet also like a riddle, you wanted to ask him to clarify but as his eyes moved down towards your stomach and lingered there long after his words, all ability to speak seemed to desert you as your mind tried to comprehend if both of you were actually heading towards the same wonderful conclusion.

Turning back towards the mirror now and placing your hands where Tony's eyes refused to leave, tears still silently fell from your eyes as your mind became a whirl with dates, numbers and activities.  Or the lack thereof now that you really focused on yourself for a change.  For little changes had been happening, but you had blamed the grief.  Was it truly possible that something else had caused them?

Sex had been a constant after all since the very first night the two of you had agreed to spend together.  How could it not?  There wasn't a woman on this planet that didn't want to end up in Tony Stark's bed and in all fairness his reputation for bedding anything in a skirt was well known.  But still, you had been somewhat different.

Friends with James Rhodes through his assistant long before you and Tony ever became a thing, your refusal to go out with him while still being pleasant and kind towards him every time  your paths crossed  endeared you to him in a way few other women had ever managed and forced him to actually work for your attention.  For you never saw the millionaire playboy.  Oh sure, you weren't stupid or naive enough to ignore everything he was, but you alone saw all that he could become.  Even if he didn't.

And it was from there the friendship grew to love, sex without protection and a future that stretched out before you until Thanos so callously snatched it all away.  Or so it had seemed.  Now however, at least if Tony was to be believed, the sex had paid off and one more Stark would open their eyes on a world their father had given his last breath to defend.  And your heart now filled with love for him all over again just as it did when he got down on one knee and asked you to be his forever.

Releasing the clasp now, letting the dress pool around your feet and slipping back into your top and jeans, you walked to the door and taking one last look behind you before Tony disappeared from view forever, you then headed out of your childhood home knowing that tomorrow your family would help clear away all of the wedding paraphernalia while you now focused on preserving Tony's memory for the next generation.

Tagging:- @caplanbuckybarnes