#just reminds me how family really does have each others back as long as you have a good one

[wonwoonlight]

Family is family only works when your family is functional

[ghostfacd]

I BET ON LOSING DOGS.

pairing: young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

PART TWO

summary: you were the epitome of sunshine, and coriolanus? he was like the storm, the rain, and the everything in between.

warnings: SPOILERS from the movie & book, SMUT (protected cause we wrap it before we tap it! p in v), losing virginities to each other, snow (cause he himself needs a warning), toxic relationship, coriolanus is only in it for himself, mentions of losing virginity, you practically giving everything to snow and getting zero in return

author’s note: erm this is kinda long idek where tf i was going with this, first time writing smut on this account LOL so it might be bad. also this isn’t proofread so there might be mistakes, just ignore! as always, reblogs and comments are so greatly appreciated, enjoy reading + kisses 💓

You were the epitome of the sun itself, the sparkle, the light, and most importantly, the brightness. Despite being filthy rich, you were still that sweet sunshine Y/N everyone grown to love, the heir to the Cicero family.

Coriolanus Snow hated that about you. Not only were you everything he was not, but you lived such a lavish and easy lifestyle that it made him sick. Why was he stuck eating cabbage while you were off eating the finest thin slices of meat in the Capitol made by your chefs? It wasn’t fair, it just simply wasn’t.

“Well, Coryo!” Your sickeningly sweet voice fills his ears like a mantra.

He turns around, a smirk plays on his face. “My Y/N.”

Hearing him call you his made your heart flutter. You loop your arm through his, passing through the other academy students who were engrossed in their conversations

“Finally the star pupil.” Arachne Crane says, a glass of posca in her hand. “Lovely shirt you’ve got there. What are these cunning buttons? Tesserae?”

He looked at the shirt, shrugging. “Hm? Are they? Must’ve why they reminded me of the maid’s bathroom.”

You held his hands in yours. You knew of Coriolanus’s home life, how he wasn’t so lucky like you to have a gigantic home filled with lovable parents. His mom had died during childbirth, Coryo mentioning to you once how he was supposed to have a little sister. His father—died in the hands of rebels.

“Have you tried this lamb? It's scandalous.” Felix suddenly spoke up, taking a bite of the food that was currently on his plate.

“Didn’t daddy teach you table manners?.” Festus sneered, watching the other boy in disgust.

“Maybe he would have if he wasn’t so busy running the country.” Felix snapped back

Coriolanus took a deep breath in, already feeling overwhelmed by his classmates arguing.

After the announcement of the assigning of mentor to tributes, you could tell Coriolanus was upset. Although he wouldn’t let anyone see, he was visibly anxious and quite frankly, annoyed.

“I mean, cmon, how could it that I got the worst district?” Coriolanus says, head in his hands. “He hates me. He really does.”

“Who hates you Coryo?”

“Dean Highbottom! Isn’t it obvious?” He cries out, hands flinging into the air. You slightly flinch back, never seeing your boyfriend in such state. “He hates me Y/N. He adores you.”

“He doesn’t adore me,” you say, feeling like you were stepping around eggshells talking to Coriolanus.

“He does!” Coriolanus screams in anger, getting up in a hurry.

“Wait, no Coryo, I’m sorry.”

But your words aren’t enough, they’ll never be for Coriolanus Snow, so he walks out without a second thought.

- - -

The next day, Coriolanus apologizes. It’s a breathy, quick 5 second apology, but you being so you—accepted it without a second thought.

You loved Coriolanus, so it didn’t matter how much he hurt you.

“I’ll make it up to you tonight,” he says, placing a soft kiss on your lips.

You felt quite excited, you and your boyfriend hadn’t exactly gotten to that stage in your relationship, so thinking about sharing an intimate moment with him filled you with giddiness.

His tip had entered carefully through your folds, making you slightly wince as it bullied its way to your walls.

“Coryo..” you breathe out hazily, doe eyes coming to meet his. He sucked in his breath at the sight, never has he felt anything as good as this.

He tries so hard convincing himself he doesn’t love you. That this—it meant nothing to him. He was just here for your money, your possessions as the only daughter of Cryon and Hermione Cicero. But as he felt your nails claw its way into his back, he lets out a slip, a tiny whimper that makes your head foggy.

He spilled into the condom, pulling out with a hiss. Although you told him you were clean, and it was fine if he didn’t wear one, he simply couldn’t risk it. He wasn’t going to accidentally bring in a child into the world, having no intentions of taking care of anyone besides himself—maybe Tigris, and his Grandma’am.

“I love you,” you say quietly as you sat up, watching him discard the plastic into your trash bin.

“I’m hungry, aren’t you?” He says, putting his shirt on. It kinds of pains you at his total ignorance of the intimate words you just shared, but you nod your head.

“I could use some food,” is all you say, putting on your pajamas from earlier. “What’re hungry for Coryo? I’ll ask the chef.”

- - -

Dr. Gaul and Dean Highbottom had allowed all the mentors and their tributes roam the arena for about 15 minutes, letting them think of ways to win the game.

You were talking to Bobbin, a boy from District 7 whom you’ve had become closer with these past few days.

Suddenly, the loud scream of Felix catches your attention and before you knew it, loud bombs filled the air as tall lights fell to the ground near you.

“CORYO!” You scream, coughing loudly at the dust filling your lungs.

“Quick Y/N, we don’t have time!” Sejanus screams, grabbing ahold of your hand.

“But Coryo—”

Meanwhile, a tall pole had crushed Coriolanus’s arms.

Well, he thought, this was it.

This was how he was going to die. His girlfriend and best friend hand in hand as they ran out of the arena, the sickening feeling of betrayal filled his guts.

“What’re you doing?!” One of the tributes screamed at Lucy Gray, who was struggling to get the giant metal off Coriolanus’s arm. “Run while you can you idiot!”

But she doesn’t bother, only focusing on getting Coriolanus out. And she does, successfully, before all went black.

- - -

“Coryo? Oh Coryo!” You say, hugging him softly to ensure you weren’t hurting him.

You had felt so guilty after everything had happened. You should’ve never ran off with Sejanus, Coriolanus was your boyfriend, you should’ve saved him.

“Is Lucy Gray okay?” Is the first thing he croaks out, which makes your heart slightly crack.

“She’s—she’s okay Coryo.” You say, brushing a few blonde curls out of his eyes.

“And where were you?” He says, gaze slowly turning into anger. “I was going to die, Y/N.”

“I know! I was going to—”

He cut you off. “But you didn’t, now did you?”

His bitterness towards you makes you want to cry, tears already forming at your lash line.

“Oh now you’re crying?” It seemed like everything you did seemed of inconvenience to Coriolanus, but he opens his arms, letting you reside in them as you let out a few tears. “Always the crybaby, Y/N.” He says, hand holding your head as you buried your face into his chest.

- - -

Coriolanus Snow never believed in love. Not when he used to look at his mother and father when they were still alive, and not when he found himself a girlfriend, you.

Your relationship was merely another step stone towards success, Coriolanus viewed it. You were the heir of your family, you had countless amounts of money, and you were easily fooled by his advances. To Coriolanus, he had hit the jackpot, regardless of loving you or not.

So why did he feel so weird watching you interact with Sejanus? Sure, he considered the former district 2 boy his best friend, but it was only because Clemensia had been spending time at the hospital. The flu, Dr. Gaul described it; but Snow knew better. He was there when she had gotten bit by the snakes, and to be completely honest, if she hadn’t, he’d probably have dated her instead of you.

Clemensia Dovecote was way more smart, and he knew he wouldn’t fall inlove because they were both after the same thing. Power.

But with you, you were head over heels for Coriolanus. It almost made him sick, if it weren’t for your family name.

He clenched his jaw as he saw you throw your head back, hitting Sejanus’s shoulder as you hysterically laughed at something he had said.

What was so funny? Nothing was funny in the Capitol, not now. Maybe he was bitter, he should’ve never cheated in the games. It was stupid, and now he was getting the punishment of getting sent to 12 as a peacekeeper for 20 years.

Fuck, he really shouldn’t have cheated. And now he couldn’t even use his girlfriend’s family name as a way out.

He really should’ve known better. He knew you loved him, but he didn’t think you’d love him so much so that you begged your father to let you stay in 12 for a while to be with Coriolanus.

If there’s one thing about you—it’s that you’re a Daddy’s girl by heart, and of course, your father had once again served your request with a silver spoon. He hated that about you. He hated it. You got things too damn easily.

“Hi Coryo!” You say, making your way to him. Your beautiful sundress made him gulp, and he wanted nothing more but to snatch you away, pulling it off so he could get inside of you. But he couldn’t—he was in 12, much to his dismay.

“Y/N,” he says, placing his peacekeeper gun to the back. “Talking to the scums?”

“They’re just people from the district,” you say, frowning at his rudeness. “They’re nice, Coryo. Real nice, you’d like some of them.”

Coriolanus scoffs at that. How oblivious and stupid you were. Him, Coriolanus Snow, liking some of the district 12 citizens? What a fucking joke.

“Go along now Y/N, I’ll see you later.”

You nod, giving him a sloppy kiss on the cheek before you left, leaving the other peacekeepers to whistle at Coriolanus who only responds with an eye roll.

When later eventually comes, he was packing away the Jabberjays in their metal cages, Sejanus being right next to him.

“I saw you earlier,” Coriolanus says nonchalantly, “talking to that woman in the window. What are you playing at Sejanus?”

Sejanus scoffs, shaking his head. “They’re gonna escape Corio. Leave the districts. And I’ll be helping them.”

Coriolanus sucks in a breath, “is Y/N all in this too?”

God, he hoped Sejanus said no. But then again, it’d give him an advantage if he had said yes.

“She is,” Sejanus says, continuing to tell Coriolanus of the plan.

Without Sejanus knowing, Coriolanus had tuned the jabberjay so it could record back the whole conversation. When Sejanus finally leaves, Coriolanus sneaks to where the train bringing the birds back to the Capitol stood, placing the jabberjay in it to send it to Dr. Gaul.

If anything, Sejanus was a blocking point in Coriolanus’s way, and getting rid of him and you were like killing two birds with one stone.

- - -

The next day came and you were peacefully talking to one of the younger girls in the district when you’re suddenly pulled away along with Sejanus.

“Hey! What the hell!” You scream, thrashing in the unfamiliar peacekeeper’s hold. “Get off me!”

You and Sejanus struggle, and Coriolanus almost wants to step in and get you out of his fellow peacekeeper’s arms. Almost.

“Coryo! Tell them they’ve been mistaken!” You cry out, locking eyes with your so called lover.

“You two have been charged with treason towards the Capitol.” The peacekeeper says, his cold gaze and strong hold on you makes you let out a whimper.

“Treason?” You say, “there has to be a mistake! Call my father! Call my father!”

“I’m afraid your father can’t get you out of this one, Miss. Cicero.”

He drags you and Sejanus up the main stage of the district. “Everyone! Pay attention! This is what will happen if you are disloyal to the Capitol!”

Another peacekeeper points a gun behind Sejanus’s back as the peacekeeper who was holding you earlier pokes your back with the cold metal. You felt terrified gazes of the citizens of District 12, including Lucy Gray, stare at you.

“CORYO! TELL THEM!” You scream, begging with your eyes. “Coryo, please. Please.”

But Coriolanus Snow stands still in his spot, not budging a thing.

You thought he had loved you—or at least, cared for you. You gave him shelter when he was at his worst, you gave him your virginity, you held him when he cried about how unfair Dean Highbottom was, you let him into your home, and you always were there for him. You practically did everything for Coriolanus Snow. And what did you get? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

“Your Coryo won’t save you.” The peacekeeper snarls, before firing the gun.

Two gunshots go off, and the body of yours and Sejanus fall to the ground in an instant.

Coriolanus Snow almost wants to barf, his eyes closed for a minute before reopening them again.

Had it really been worth it? Ratting you and Sejanus out so he could get home to the Capitol faster?

He thinks so when your family and the Plinths give him their fortune as a thank you for being such a good boyfriend and friend towards their son and daughter.

If only they knew, though. But Coriolanus would never let that happen, because no matter what, Snow lands on top.

And this? It was just the beginning.

[rogueddie]

Hair Care T | 1,749 words Prompt for @steddielovemonth: Love is what makes you brave

Steve learnt early on that if he makes his hair all soft, fluffy and big, then girls would play with his hair. He's always loved having people touching his hair.

But after the Demogorgon, after he gets his act together? Suddenly, no one wants to touch his hair. No one comments on it, or even looks at it like they're so much as thinking about it.

And it is driving Steve insane.

"I can't just ask for it!" He complains. "That's weird and- and what if they take it the wrong way? What if I sound too weird or desperate?"

"I'm the wrong person for the weird complaint," Eddie points out. "And I still don't get the problem. What about Robin?"

Robin is convinced that all his little lines, trying to encourage attention towards his hair as subtly as he can, are all pick-up lines.

To be fair to her, she has only ever seen him using said lines when he's flirting. But they're supposed to be little hints, a nudge and a wink. Friendly- playful even.

But, because of that, he has a nasty feeling that she would take any hint or request about his hair as romantic. And the last thing Steve wants to do is make Robin uncomfortable.

"Ok, yeah, I see the problem there," Eddie hums, considering. "What about the kids? El and Max. They adore you and love playing with each others hair."

El had asked to play with his hair once.

She'd heard, somehow, that his hair is 'famous' in Hawkins and had wanted to see why. She encouraged Max to join her, even though she mostly ended up petting him like a dog.

Max had seemed to enjoy it more than El, but not by much, and the snickers from the other kids had been enough for him to refuse to let them "go again".

He's the babysitter, he needs at least some dignity.

"But did you like it?" Eddie presses.

"Well, yeah," Steve mumbles, snuffing his slipper on the carpet. "It was nice or whatever. Not worth the jabs though."

"Why not?"

"I don't know. Didn't feel worth it."

"Hmm..." Eddie pauses again, frowning as he looks him over. "Well... what was it specifically about what they did that was so nice? Has anyone else done that for you?"

Tommy used to play with his hair constantly. He was a quick learner and, with how much Carol visibly and vocally enjoyed watching them, there wasn't any shame.

They both seemed to enjoy themselves more whenever they could convince Steve to sit on the floor, so Tommy could scratch at his head more effectively.

"Which..." Steve pauses, frowning. "In retrospect was probably some weird power play thing. Like, I was the king at school but a dog at home."

"Yikes."

"Yeah."

But they knew exactly what he liked and they were good at it.

Tommy knew that he loves the back of his ears scratched, likes the small strands at his neck tugged. He knew that Steve loved the feeling of fingers brushing his fringe back, especially when he'd get rough and push his head back a little with the motion.

They knew what he needed.

"Well... I could do that," Eddie suggests. "I mean... if you want. It's not like it would be a hardship."

"Really? You wouldn't be uncomfortable?"

"Not at all. As long as you're ok with it, it's all good."

"That- yeah. Yeah, I'm on with that."

That's how it starts.

Steve had sat on the floor, in front of the sofa where Eddie was sat. It reminded him of Tommy for a moment, but Eddie quickly brought him back to the moment with a hand on his shoulder.

"This alright for you?" He asked, squeezing gently when Steve nodded. "Alright. Just let me know if it's bad, too much or you want to stop."

"Okay."

He had thought that would be it, though. Moments when they hung out in private, a thing for them that no one else was allowed in on.

But Eddie starts playing with his hair. All the time.

If he can find an excuse, he abuses it. Even in Family Video, busy with people and customers lining up in front of Robin, right next to them. Eddie just... leans forward, reaches out and pushes his hair back.

He does it so casual, so out in the open, that- somehow- Robin is the only one who gives them a strange look.

On movie nights, he's started putting a pillow down on the floor between his feet. When Steve comes in with popcorn, Eddie gives it a pointed look and raises an eyebrow at him.

It's so much, so often. Steve loves it, has never been so happy for so long. It leaves him feeling high sometimes.

All good things, for him, come to an end though. And his comes in the form of Robin Buckley.

"I'm not saying I have a problem with any of it!" She clarifies, right off the bat. "If it's just a friendship thing, that's amazing. I love how happy you are, really, and I don't want that to go away, and I know-"

"Robs," Steve interrupts. "Slow down. I don't know what you're trying to say."

She stood, staring at him for a moment, seeming to vibrate with her need to speak, before finally blurting out-

"Are you and Eddie dating?"

"Wh- what? No, that's... no. Why do you, uhm, think that?"

"Steve," she whines. "I know about your hair lines, remember? One of them must have worked with how addicted he's got to yours."

"Oh, that... no, that's not what's happened. Those aren't lines, I just... I really like people playing with my hair."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Wait, that still sounds suspicious. He plays with your hair all the time because he knows how much you like it?"

"No one else was going to."

"Oh my god," she rolls her eyes, stepping closer so she lightly tug at his hair. "I would have been doing this all the time if I knew it was ok!"

"Oh, uh, sorry?"

"No apologies, just tell me when you started crushing on Munson."

"How-?"

"I know you, dingus. Apparently not as well as I had hoped I did, but I do. And you're gone on him. When. Did it start?"

The first time Steve realized that he was feeling more than 'friendship feelings' for Eddie was when he was eating at his new trailer.

Wayne had come home early and was surprised to see that Eddie had a guest over.

But Eddie was too busy jumping up, excited to introduce them, to notice.

"Wayne! This is Steve, I've told you about Steve, he's great," Eddie said. "Steve, this is my uncle, Wayne. He's amazing, don't worry, he doesn't bite."

Steve had quickly stood extending an arm, and introduced him properly. He made sure to add a quick 'sir' at the end.

Wayne had quickly dismissed the title, turning to Eddie with a fond look, and said, "what was it you called him? Pr-"

"Shut up," Eddie was fast to interrupt, hands waving around.

And Steve realized that he was feeling hope. He was filled with hope that Eddie had said what his uncle seemed to about to say.

He realized that he wanted Eddie to think of him as pretty. He wanted Eddie to find him so pretty that he told his uncle.

It was a warm feeling, fluttering through his stomach- a feeling that he is all too familiar with.

"I'm gagging," Robin says, monotone. "But that does help."

"Help? How?"

"Uh, because he's obviously into you too!"

"Robs, I don't know..."

"Come on, it'll be easy. He already likes you, so you don't have to try so hard. Just a little thing that lets him know you like him. One of your moves-"

"No, Robs... I'm sure that he likes me too, at least a little, that's not the problem."

"What is them?"

"I... I've never, like... been with a guy. What if I do it wrong?"

"Steve," Robin grabs both of his shoulders. "He likes you. All you have to be is yourself."

"I don't know if I c-"

"You can, and you will. We'll think of a plan that cannot fail, you'll put on your brave pants, and we'll kick this problems ass."

"My brave pants? It's brave face."

"No, I mean those pants that you're always saying make your ass look good. Those are your brave pants."

"... Ok, yeah, they are."

It doesn't take them long to settle in a plan. It's simple, easy. It shouldn't give Steve enough time to doubt himself.

Eddie arrives on time, knocking on the door at the exact time it turns four p.m.

"Hi!" Steve greets, wincing at how overenthusiastic he is. "Come in."

"You alright?"

"Yeah, fine, just... slow day. Too much energy. Come on, I made too much food earlier if you want some."

"You know I'll never turn down free food, Stevie."

Over dinner, Steve starts to finally relax. Eddie is, as always, easy to talk too.

When they step into the living room, Steve snatches the pillow off Eddie before he can put it on the floor and places it in Eddies lap instead.

"Oh, uh," Eddie stutters, eyebrows high, staring down at Steve who did not hesitate to rest his head on the pillow in his lap. "You- yeah?"

"Yeah," Steve agrees. "You alright with this?"

"Yes- yeah, this- of course."

"Great!"

Steve stretches to the coffee table, handing Eddie the remote.

He doesn't pay attention to whatever Eddie puts on though. He can't stop thinking about how he's laying, how Eddie's hand feels so much more gentle in his hair.

Eventually, he turns so he's on his back. He catches Eddie's hand before he can pull away, waiting until Eddie looks him in the eye before pulling his hand close enough to kiss his palm.

But, instead of surprise, Eddie sighs. His shoulders drop, smiling wide- relieved.

"You're so pretty," Steve says, pushing through the confusion he feels at Eddies reaction. "And I, uh... I really like you, Ed."

"Yeah?" Eddies eyes scrunch with how wide his smile is, shifting his hand out of Steves hold so he can brush the back of his knuckles along his cheek. "Little ol' me?"

"Yeah. I'm- I mean, you're funny and you care... you're just... it's too soon to say love, I know, but-"

"I love you too."

[cosmicpearlz]

end up here

summary: how does one fix a broken patch in a marriage? fake smiles in public and secret animosity behind closed doors doesn't help anyone.

pairing: jude bellingham x reader

waking up in the morning, you turned your head. finding the empty spot that would've been where your husband laid. you turned back towards the wall and sighed to yourself. the argument that should've only lasted one night with apologizes following later, was going on two weeks now. you stretch your arms and legs out before removing the duvet from your body. stepping into your slippers, you head downstairs to the kitchen.

jude stands shirtless, pajama pants hanging just below his waistline. making two cups of coffee. he heard your footsteps but refused to look at you. a painful reminder of what your shared mornings used to be.

"good morning," you mumbled. almost like a quiet whisper that travels through the cold feeling kitchen.

"good morning. i made you a cup of coffee," jude finally turns and meets your eye for a brief second. looking back down, he stretches the cup to you.

"thank you. aren't we meeting with your family today? and then you have camp for england coming up, right?"

"yup," is all jude said before walking away with his own coffee cup. you couldn't believe this is what your marriage has come to. one-word answers and cold shoulders. to think you guys were happy before the argument. an argument that you both couldn't even remember how it originally started.

-

you and jude walked hand and hand to the front door. not wanting his family to see this rough patch that you guys were going through. you wanted to save the warmth that his hand gave you and put it in a box. missing the affection that was always shared. jude secretly felt the same, he just missed his wife but the pride he carried was too high at the moment. not wanting to be the first to apologize. even though he uttered hurtful words like you had.

"my babies!" denise smiled brightly and pulls you both into a hug. "how was the flight?"

"long. so stupidly long and i'm still jetlagged," you dramatically pouted your lips.

"well come in and relax for a bit darling, lunch is almost ready." jude loved the way you interacted with his family. it made his heart grow twice in size, seeing how soft you became. continually bringing out the side of you he loved seeing every day.

"you alright mate?" jobe asked his brother. following his gaze where they see you talking to their mum and dad.

"just fine," jude lied to the younger boy, pulling him into a hug and pressing a kiss to his head.

jude and jobe head to the living room, sitting down and watching tv. mark soon joins them, leaving you and denise in the kitchen. you sit on the dining room chair and lean your elbows on the table.

"how are you really feeling?"

"i'm okay, works been busy."

"y/n, i mean how are you and jude doing?" she turns to look at you with a raised eyebrow. you groaned and put your head down into your arms.

"is it that obvious?"

"a little. but it's only because i know you guys. always very affectionate and now it's limited to just hand holding." you almost hate how much his mom knew your relationship so well. "talk to me my love." denise puts the pot to a simmer and takes a seat across from you.

"we got into an argument two weeks ago. i don't even remember what the argument was about at this point! we've said some pretty hurtful things and now it's just not the same."

"marriage isn't going to be perfect," she reaches over to grasp your hand. "you guys are probably just stressed and you haven't even got to properly enjoy your new lives as a married couple. this rough patch isn't going to last but it will if you can't communicate with each other."

"but how do i talk to him when he said that we shouldn't have got married?" tears began to pool at your eyes, remembering how he said those hurtful words.

"honey, in no way does he actually believe that. he loves you so much and adores the ground you walk on. don't take this as me excusing what he said, because it was very insensitive and hurtful. what did you say?"

"i told him that maybe we shouldn't have gotten married. then i said that my life would be so much easier if i just never met him," you retold her exactly what you said. once the words come out of your mouth, it left a bitter taste. denise sighs and pats your hand that rested in her hand.

"you both were in the wrong. it should never have to come to this. you guys need to talk right now. end this and i promise you that everything will be okay. just talk to one another. you both love each other, right?"

"yes. i don't know what i'd do without him in my life truthfully."

"then communicate that."

not knowing that jude was having the same conversation with his dad and brother. you tried to compose yourself by wiping the stray tears that fell from your eyes. you missed your husband, and you just wanted to feel his touch once more. jude walked into the kitchen, sending a small smile to his mum.

"can i talk to you love?" jude whispered softly. you nodded and placed your hand in his outstretched one.

-

entering his childhood bedroom, you both sat on the bed. you've been in here many times over the years that you guys dated. it was silent for a while, choosing to look at the walls of the room instead of speaking. it never used to be awkward with jude. everything always flowed naturally, it's what you loved about him.

"i'm sorry-"

"i'm so sorry-"

you both share a light chuckle. not expecting to speak at the same time. even though, it was something that happened often.

"i'm sorry y/n. i didn't mean what i said. marrying you has been the best decision i ever made. getting to wake up and see you next to me or coming home from a hard day and falling into your embrace. truthfully, i fall more in love with you every day. these past two weeks have been completely shitty in comparison to what our normal routine is."

"i feel the same jude. god, i wish i could take back what i said. i don't know what i would do without you. you keep me grounded and sane. you're the best thing that's happened to me. i'm sorry that my pride got in the way of loving you. nothing should ever come in the way of us being in love. it's hard going to sleep without speaking or cuddling."

"my pride got in the way too. we've both hurt each other and i don't want to continue down this path. i love you too much to simply give up now. i miss my beautiful wife."

"and i miss my beautiful husband." jude laughs softly, as you wipe more stray tears. he wasn't laughing at you crying but laughing at the fact that, even with tears and a horsed voice, he found you to be the most precious thing in the world.

"c'mere," jude says, opening his arms as an invitation. you didn't think twice before crawling into his arms. sitting in his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck. his arms wrap around your waist, and you began to cry into his neck. rocking you back and forth, it sends tears of his own to fall onto his cheeks.

"i'm so sorry baby. i don't ever want it to get to this point again," he whispered into your ear.

"me neither," you hiccupped out. jude pulls away from the hug, just to see your face. he takes his free hands and wipes your tear-stained cheeks. once he's finished, he keeps one hand on your cheek and moves the other to rest on your waist. you leaned into his touch, missing the way it felt against your skin.

"still as beautiful as ever."

"even with red eyes and a snotty nose?"

"especially with red eyes and a snotty nose, are you kidding me? you're the prettiest girl."

"you're just saying that because you're my husband," you chuckled to yourself.

"i say it because it's true and i mean it. being your husband is just a plus."

"i love that you're my husband. i also love that we can go back to normal, goodness gracious i missed you so much."

"i love you so much and will continue to do it for the rest of our lives," jude kisses the tip of your nose and then places a kiss to your forehead. pulling you back into a tight hug.

[once-upon-an-imagine]

I’d love a request where the reader is Bobbys daughter and dating Buck. It’s a hot day and the reader has gone to the firehouse to see everyone but she ends up feeling unwell because of the heat and Buck looks after her.

hello, love! ahh thank you so much for this request! and thanks to everyone who voted! it's my first time writing for Buck so I hope you like it! also, I'm not sure why, I swear I read somewhere that Bobby didn't know they were dating so that's kind of the course this took, so I hope that's okay! Warnings: reader faints because of the heat; I think that’s it, but always let me know if I missed anything Disclaimer: I don’t own 9-1-1 😊 gif isn’t mine 😁

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Heatwave

"Okay, how does this look?" you asked, placing the lasagna in the middle of the table. Buck had texted you that the team was on their way back so you needed to hurry up.

"For the third time, honey, yes. It looks good" Athena said as she brought the bread with her and you went over to finish the salad you were making. You had learned a thing or two from your father and you started to actually enjoy cooking. It brought the two of you together after you lost the rest of your family, and it usually helped calm you down, but not today. "Look, I know you're nervous about telling your dad about you and Buck, but you need to breathe and relax" she said, walking closer to you.

You had been seeing Buck for a long time now. At first, you didn't want to tell your dad, mostly because you weren't even sure if the two of you were serious. Then, it got serious quickly and the two of you agreed to tell your dad when you were both ready. So now, because the two of you wanted to move in together, you knew you had to tell him. So, here you were, cooking your father's favorite meal for lunch, and hoping to have your dad in a good mood for later tonight when you were going to finally tell him.

"I know, I know" you said to Athena, who had kindly volunteered to help you since it was her day off. "It's just... my dad has hated every single boyfriend I've had" you told her.

"Oh, I know. He's told me about all the insipid, idiot, good-for-nothings you've dated before" she said, making you widen your eyes at her. "His words not mine" she said, making you roll your eyes. "But he adores Buck, like his own son. I mean, they even went to a Bruce Springsteen concert together" she reminded you.

"Ugh, I know, nobody loves Springsteen as much as those two" you said, making Athena let out a chuckle. "Look, I know he loves Buck... as part of his team. I'm not sure if he's gonna love Buck as my boyfriend" you said, nervously.

"Of course he will. Because as much as he loves Buck, he loves you more than anything and anyone" she reminded you. "And he's going to see how happy he makes you" she smiled.

"You really think so?" you asked, smiling back.

"I really do" she nodded. It actually meant a lot to you what Athena thought too. You knew she didn't particularly like Buck at first, but she had mentioned to you how he's changed and how she sees that the two of you brought out the best in each other. "Looks like they're here" she said, when you saw the truck pulling into the station.

"Okay" you said, placing the salad on the table. "I think the bear claws are done" you said, wiping your hands on your apron, and went over to the oven.

"Really? You had to make his favorite dessert?" Athena said, rolling her eyes. "Aren't you trying a bit too hard?"

"Better safe than sorry" you smiled nervously.

"Hey, what's all this?" Hen asked, being the first one to get upstairs.

"Do I smell your dad's famous lasagna?" Chim was the next one to appear. "Please tell me I'm right" he smiled, seeing at the setup table.

"You are correct" you smiled.

"Oh, this is why you're my favorite Nash" he smiled.

"Hey! I heard that" you heard your father coming up. "This is a nice surprise" he smiled, looking at the two of you before he went over to his wife and gave her a kiss.

"Yeah-" Athena started before you interrupted her.

"It was Athena's idea" you quickly said. "I uh, just... tagged along to help with the cooking" you smiled as Buck and Eddie finally made it upstairs.

"Hey, little Nash" Eddie said, walking over to greet you. Aside from Athena, he was the only one who knew about the two of you. And Christopher.

"Well, I'm happy to see you" Bobby said, before walking over to you and kissing your head. "Both of you" he added. "This looks good, duck" he smiled as you rolled your eyes a little.

"Why is it that he calls you duck?" you heard Chimney ask when he was taking his seat.

"Why does he call you Chimney?" you smirked and he glared at you.

Your dad laughed and walked over to the table with Athena as he started telling Hen and Chim that he called you duck because you used to be a really grumpy kid and when you were a toddler, you sounded like Donald Duck whenever you argued with him about something.

"Hey" Buck said, walking closer to you as you walked to the oven. "How are you feeling?" he smiled.

"I'm... fine" you smiled wearily.

"You're a terrible liar" he chuckled.

"I know" you said, opening the oven and feeling the heat struck you. It was already extremely hot outside. This just made it ten times worse. "I'm just a little nervous" you said, getting back up, suddenly feeling dizzy, and making you drop the tray with bear claws a bit faster and louder than you intended on the counter, getting the attention of the four people on the table.

"Whoa" Buck said, worriedly, getting closer to you.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Eddie asked. "You're sweating a lot"

"Yeah, no I just... felt a bit light-headed" you said, placing your wrist on your forehead.

"Did you eat something today? Maybe you need to sit down" Buck said pulling you closer to him. "Look at me" he instructed.

"I'm fine, sweetheart-" you tried smiling before Buck saw your eyes roll over to the back of your head and you collapsed in front of him. He quickly wrapped his arms around your waist, preventing you from falling all the way to the ground.

"Bobby!" Buck yelled, even if Bobby was already rushing to you as Buck and Eddie carried you to the sofa.

"Chim! Hen! Get your bag!" Bobby ordered. "What happened?"

"I think it's the heat" Eddie said as Chimney came running back up with his bag, handing Hen what she needed.

"Did she eat anything at all today?" she questioned.

"Not while she was with me" Athena replied.

"She didn't have breakfast either" Buck said, feeling guilty. He was the main reason why you were late and didn't have breakfast.

"What? She didn't?" Bobby asked, confused. "Wait, how do you know that?"

"Um... she texted me?" Buck smiled, nervously as Eddie and Athena shared a look, thinking it was probably best to give everyone some space.

"You two... text each other?" Bobby asked as Chimney and Hen shared a different, confused look.

"Oh, I did not see this coming" Chim muttered to Hen.

"Seriously? You didn't?" she asked before going back to examining you.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

You slowly opened your eyes and realized you were at the 118 station and you had a cold cloth pressed against your forehead. You tried to sit up but Buck quickly ran over to you.

"Whoa, easy there, love" he said, sitting on the coffee table in front of you. "Hi" he smiled sweetly at you, offering you a bottle of water. "How are you feeling?"

"A bit dumb, to be honest" you chuckled, accepting the water and taking a sip. "W-what happened?"

"You fainted" he reminded you. "Sweetheart, why didn't you tell me you hadn't eaten today?"

"I'm sorry" you frowned. "I didn't think it would be a big deal. I didn't have time to eat this morning and, then I went to work, and then I started cooking and I lost track of time and, I guess the heat didn't help" you said shyly.

"No, it didn't" your dad said, walking over and sitting on the edge of the sofa. "How are you feeling duck?"

"A bit better" you said.

"Well, it's a good thing your boyfriend is always alert and quick on his feet" he said, casually.

"Yeah, he- wait, what did you say?" you froze, realizing what he'd just say. "Did I hit my head?" you asked Buck. "Did my dad just call you my boyfriend?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry, sweetheart" Buck smiled apologetically. "I know you had a whole thing planned tonight, but I let it slip that you didn't have breakfast today, and well... I kind of told him" he explained.

"Y-you did?" you asked, feeling a bit nauseous again. "Does he know we're moving in together?"

"What?!"

"He does now" Buck said with a tight-lipped smile.

"You're moving in together?" your dad asked.

"I uh-" you stuttered. "Y-yeah" you admitted. "W-we were going to tell you tonight at dinner" you insisted.

"Is that why you came to make my favorite lunch? So I'd be in a good mood?" he asked, knowing you too well.

"M-maybe?" you smiled. "A-are you mad?"

"No, honey. I'm not mad" he chuckled, pulling you closer and kissing your temple. "I don't love the fact that you hid it from me for so long" he added. "But I'm glad you're with someone who I know cares about you as much as I know Buck does" he smiled. "And, if I'm being honest, I kind of suspected it for a while" he said, surprising you.

"You did not" you glared at him.

"You both are terrible liars and I mean, you only make bear claws when you're giving me bad news" he smirked, making you roll your eyes.

"Wait, does that mean, I'm bad news?" Buck asked.

"What? N-no" you said unconvincingly. "I make them when I'm not sure how he will react" you insisted.

"Yeah" Bobby said. "To bad news" he repeated with a chuckle. I'm glad you're happy, duck" he told you.

"Thanks, dad" you smiled. "I really am" you told him.

"I'm gonna go get you something to eat, okay?" he said, getting up and kissing your head again. "Don't ever scare me like that again" he muttered before walking away.

"So, your dad knows about us" Buck smiled at you.

"Yeah, and it didn't go bad at all" you said, excitedly.

"Not bad at all? Sweetheart, do I need to remind you that you just fainted?"

"Well, yeah but... I mean aside from that" you pouted, making him smile at you before giving you a peck on the lips.

"You really scared me" he said, worriedly.

"I'm sorry, love" you insisted.

"You don't have to apologize" he said. "Especially since it was kind of my fault you didn't have breakfast" he said, blushing a little. "But now that we are going to live together, I will make sure you don't leave the house without eating first" he instructed, making you roll your eyes a little.

"Fine" you smiled before he leaned in for another kiss. "I love you" you told him.

"I love you too" he smiled.

The End

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A/N: aahhh! I hope you loves liked it!

[greenfiend]

Will already has powers…

And I think I figured out exactly what they are.

This is a long theory post. Get some popcorn, get comfortable and be prepared to have some common fandom perspectives get flipped upside down. Nothing is as it seems.

(Trigger warning for some serious subject matters such as: homophobia, SI, m*rder, and CSA.)

Before we begin, let me remind you of what’s seen behind our boy in the photo above.

This post will, indeed, open that curtain. As Murray states, revealing what’s behind the curtain will cause some to feel unease. The unease may be caused by distaste of the theory overall or discomfort of the serious subject matters. So proceed with caution…

To begin, who is Will Byers?

A young boy who doesn’t fit in with the 1980s norms. A boy who escapes through fantasy.

In fantasy he’s a wizard… a cleric…

Outside of fantasy he’s an artist… a creator…

He’s a boy who’s different. He stands out from the rest, yet he manages to remain hidden for the most part. He’s “good at hiding”.

He is a part of a small loving family of three. His mother Joyce and his older brother Jonathan. His biological dad is estranged (more on him later).

Will has a few friends when we begin the show: Lucas, Dustin, and Mike. Mike and Will have a bond that’s different from the others (more on them later).

Will is a young boy who has experienced a lot of trauma, from bullying peers and an abusive parent to being victimized by supernatural forces. There’s a lot going on for him both internally and externally. These also happen to correlate with each other quite frequently. Suspiciously frequently in fact. Which leads me to this conclusion:

Will’s powers involve shaping the world around him based on his warped views of himself, his sexuality, and his mental health. He’s literally “reshaping the [external] world” to match his internal world; “remake it however [he] sees fit.”

Wow okay slow down there, you may be thinking. You’re really saying he has God like abilities? Well, sort of- but he lacks the insight or control over his own abilities at this point. Just bare with me here and keep an open mind as things will get stranger…

Moving away from the deeper aspects of his character, let’s look at something superficial: his name.

William “Will” Byers

The name William means “Determined” or “Resolute Protector” or “Strong Helmet”. Okay.

Byers means someone who lives by a cattle-shed. Hm. Okay.

But wait… let’s go back. What does the name “Will” mean?

Well… there’s multiple meanings but let’s focus on the highlighted one.

“Mental powers” you say? A name that literally means the ability to make others do things or make things occur? To bend things to one’s will…

When did he get these powers?

I’m not confident in the answer to this but I think he may have always had the powers. Just like his sexuality, he was born this way.

It’s very likely that he was specifically targeted back in the first episode because of this, then was possessed afterwards for the same reason.

I mean… for a villain who wants to “reshape the world”- why wouldn’t he want the powers of a boy with this ability?

As I believe his powers are intertwined with his sexuality, they began manifesting much more once puberty hit. Will likely has used his powers in seasons 1 and 2 but very subtly. In season 3, they become more obvious but still in the shadows (and unbeknownst to him…he suppresses it). They emerge in correlation with his blooming sexuality.

Season 3 is associated with possession, and the concept of free will is a frequent theme. The characters discuss how to look out for people acting out of the ordinary, out of character if you will. Any characters that come to mind?

Hopper was noticeably different this season. Coincidentally, the same season Will desperately held onto his childhood innocence, Hopper acted suspiciously immature.

Will wants El and Mike to break up. Hopper wants El and Mike to break up.

Mike explains to Lucas that Hopper “threatened” him while we immediately cut to Will. What’s Will doing here? He is moving DnD characters on a board. He is manipulating the characters here… playing dollhouse… being a puppet master. This little guy was so jealous of Mike and El that he influenced Hopper to try and break them up!

We are shown other little incidences of Hopper acting Will-like too. He suddenly buys a shirt that’s different than his usual wardrobe- “that’s a lot of color chef”. Will is known for wearing colourful clothes, that’s highlighted as a reason he is seen as “different” and is bullied for it. Hopper has trouble pronouncing an alcoholic beverage, saying “cheeanti” when he is well acquainted with alcohol. While Will is dressed up as Will the Wise, Lucas asks Will for permission to shower- then we cut to Hopper showering. Hopper acts very immature in his jealousy, just as Will does. Both Hopper and Will have big fights with Joyce and Mike in episode 3 of season 3. When El asks “how do we know when someone’s a host?” the scene immediately ends and we are shown Hopper. Will is using Hopper as a host! There’s even more evidence than this but we shall move on from here.

So wait, Will possessed Hopper? Well, not exactly. Hopper was under the influence of Will. Remember what Will said about the mindflayer: “He likes to hide. He only used me when he needed me.”

There was another character acting out of the ordinary this season…

That’s right! Mike.

I’ll come back to him more later but in the meantime, let me offer you this theory:

The rain scene. Now what if I said that Will was the one projecting onto Mike? What I mean is: Will’s internal thoughts “it’s not his fault I don’t like girls!” becoming a reality. Mike never meant to say this- it was all Will’s doing. His internalized homophobia became externalized. It’s oddly fitting too that in the episode with Will’s emotional breakdown, it’s raining.

The devastating depth of Will’s trauma

Within the show, we know our boy has experienced a lot of suffering, but subtext tells us it’s much worse than we see on the surface.

Will’s father is a homophobic and abusive asshole yes, but he’s more than that.

There’s an alarming amount of evidence that this man was not only emotionally and physically abusive but also sexually abusive to both Will and his older brother.

He likely was especially homophobic towards Will because he projected his actual perverse sexuality unto him. He likely dealt with his shame by blaming his innocent young son.

This leads us to: November 6th, 1983. Originally, I do believe that Will died by the hands of his own cruel father. His father likely picked him up from his bike ride home (his bike left behind), ended his life by strangulation, put him in the back of his trunk, and dumped him into Sattlers Quarry (where his fake body was found).

I believe somehow someone was able to reverse this (more on this later). The clock turned back and a new timeline was created. Will was then abducted and brought to the upside down. Instead of heaven or hell, he was in purgatory. Time came to an abrupt halt in the upside down… the exact same time his life ended in the original timeline. This is where timelines diverge.

Now Will’s purgatory is also his internal world, his own mind. The upside down manifests itself as this. It’s dark, cold, scary, lonely, and unsettling. He’s trapped in his own head, where he relives some of his most traumatic memories. We see him being victimized by the Demogorgon (an alternate title for Demogorgon is “The Deep Father” x ) and we also see him being assaulted (in a sexual manner) by vines.

By the time Will is rescued, he is struggling with suicidal thoughts (the song “When It’s Cold I’d Like to Die” tells us this). Poor boy has been in a deep dark depressive state. In season 2, his possession is a real manifestation of his PTSD.

The monsters represent how he views himself- he’s a monster. I’d argue his internalized homophobia is a lot worse than we actually think. It’s not just the homophobic environment around him, it’s also the ongoing rhetoric that the victim will inevitably become a perpetrator. As we see the common occurrence of toxic cycles continuing: he fears he has no agency and will become his own father.

Jonathan can relate, but because he’s solely attracted to women and thus more “normal”, it’s not as bad for him. But Steve really pushed his buttons when he implied that Jonathan is a creep like his father.

So yes, Will sees himself as a monster because of his attraction to men. Thus, he manifests the monsters in the monster show.

Speaking of his attraction to men…

Mike

Will loves Mike, he’s hopelessly devoted to him. Mike feels the exact same way. In the original timeline, Mike ultimately decides to jump into Sattlers Quarry to reunite with his love in death.

Will “jumps”, Mike jumps too. Luckily, a new timeline was created, giving both of them a second chance at life and love.

In the alternate timeline (the show), season 1 sees Mike leave no stones unturned in his search for his best friend. In season 2, we see how Mike normally is with Will. He’s so devoted! He’s always by Will’s side throughout everything. It’s beautiful! This is the authentic Mike.

So. What happened in season 3? Mike’s internalized homophobia?

Well partially I’m sure, but in this post I’m offering an alternate theory: Mike’s behavior is explained by Will’s internalized homophobia.

What do I mean by this?

Well as I said, Will reshapes the external world in the image of his internal world. He doesn’t believe he deserves Mike’s love. He’s scared. He’s been “inventing things” so he can push Mike away.

He obviously wants nothing more than to be with Mike, but due to his insecure attachment style and his internalized homophobia, he’s been the one pushing him away this entire time with his powers.

How has he been pushing Mike away exactly?

He’s been pushing Mike towards El.

Wait, didn’t he help break them up through Hopper?

Well, yes, but the sweet sensitive boy that he is likely felt bad, he regretted his actions after their rain fight fallout and wanted to give his “olive branch” and make amends.

Will believes the best way to do so is to push Mike and El back together. Like Lucas, Will gives Mike guidance by, essentially, being the master to his puppet.

(Above is actually Will’s apology to Mike.)

In Will’s mind, Mike is straight. He would never reciprocate Will’s feelings. So, Will believes that Mike should be happy with El then.

Will literally is putting words in Mike’s mouth here. Look how focused Will is in this scene, and how often Mike turns to him. It’s as though Will is mouthing to Mike exactly what words he (thinks) he should say.

Here Will is at it again! But Mike is resisting. The words aren’t able to come out. Will’s signal is poor, Mike couldn’t fully understand him.

So Will, as misguided but well intended as he is, attempts to bring Mike and El back together.

No wonder Mike couldn’t exactly remember his words…

He’s genuinely confused here!

This leads me to…

This foreshadowing shot tells us that Will is the director here. He fed Mike the script he had to read. So yes, I’m saying that Will did not just push Mike to say those words to El, he forced him to. Mike did not have any agency here.

Now, like me, you may be concerned about this. Will is bending Mike to his will? Won’t the audience then assume Will forced Mike to be gay with him? Pushing that toxic homophobic narrative?

Well that’s the thing- Will is not forcing a straight man to be gay. Will is trying to make a gay man straight! Ahhh trope subversion.

El

So I’m not going to delve too much into El in this post, because El and Will deserve their own post. But I do strongly believe they are much more connected than we think.

Vecna

Where does Vecna fit into this theory? Well for starters, I don’t believe Vecna himself is Will, he is definitely a separate entity. The major difference between Will and Vecna is that Will will no longer be restrained by his shadow, he will be able to differentiate himself from his shadow. Vecna has chosen to become one with the shadow.

Also, like Mike, Vecna is heavily associated with time. Vecna takes time away from others but Mike gives time. I do agree with the Wheeler and Creel being connected theories.

Time

Time is a major theme within the show. As I mentioned previously, Will possesses powers where he can manipulate his environment, his space. Will is space, but he is lacking the 4th dimension.

The upside down is frozen in time, essentially lacking time. It needs time, and it always will! That’s right- Mike is time.

That boy is frequently associated with it. Running late at the beginning of each season, mentions of “turning back the clock”, etc.

Mike “turned back the clock” and saved Will from his original fate. Similar to the scene where Mike jumps off the cliff and is saved by El, Mike reverses his fall by rewinding time. He went all the way back to the night of November 6th, 1983. Preventing the original timeline from occurring.

Mike gave Will the greatest gift of all- time.

Remember time heals all wounds. Wounds being the gates.

Together, Mike and Will are spacetime. Which is beautiful because not only does this mean they are equals in every way but they can literally create their own fantasy world together.

Conclusion

This show has a lot of layers. I tried to really dig deep but still I feel like I just scratched the surface. I will say this though: I am utterly confident that everything leads back to Will. He is the center of the entire show, like it or not. Without Will, there is no Stranger Things. Now of course this is not “the Byler show” but their relationship is incredibly important. Mike’s unconditional love and devotion to Will is a key aspect of the solution to the conflict. He makes Will “feel better for being different”. His love, along with his other friends and family, will inevitably lead to the upside down (Will’s mind) becoming a beautiful place. Instead of rot and decay, there will be blooming flowers and sunlight.

If you’d like to discuss any aspect of these theories with me, feel free! Like I said, I’m only scratching the surface here. Let me know your thoughts.

[slttygeto]

༉‧₊˚. PLAYLIST

༉‧₊˚. episode 06: temptation's tangle

preview: ". . . “What’s the occasion?” “Being hungry?” You glare at his sarcastic comment and Hanma shrugs his shoulders with an amused grin. “What? You don’t trust me?” “Exactly, I don’t.” “Well just to remind you, we agreed to be fuck buddies so–”

“For fuck’s sake–” . ."

content warning: suggestive content, abandonment issues, hanma is a d!ck but what's new.

word count: 5,4k

➜ ┊: @softshuji @mitsuwuyaa @kariatenoh @reiners-milkbiddies @citrusteaa @bejeweled-night-33

➜ MASTERLIST

➜ note: yet another chapter woohoo!! this one's a bit exciting for me because we get to see new characters appearing in the reader's life. and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!!

༉‧₊˚. reblog + comment!

Saturdays were for resets. You didn’t like to go out that much during the weekends, so it was a hassle to reject your co-worker’s offer to go out for drinks the night after a long week of exhausting and intense work. You would much rather stay inside, go over your to-do list and look around your place to see which area needed the most cleaning. The kitchen was definitely a mess, but your room? Good lord. Your room looked as though a hurricane had passed and devoured it before spitting it out.

No matter how much you tried to be organized, you always found yourself with a mess on the floor, half of your makeup on your vanity and the other half in the bathroom along with a bunch of shoes lined up next to your entrance. You puff out some air as you stand in the middle of your room.

“I really need to get my shit together.” Have you said these words before? Absolutely. 

Will you probably say them again in two weeks? Oh, of course. 

But right now, you need a distraction from what happened two days ago–something that quiets down the voice that keeps nagging you to grab your phone and check if he sent a message, if something had changed. You recognized that you were being a walking contradiction–between promising yourself to be mad at him and loathing him only a week ago, to suddenly wishing he was in your bedroom, pinning you to your mattress and drilling his cock into you–yeah, you were a mess. 

It’s not like you didn’t have a vibrator, or hands! Your hands did an amazing job at fulfilling your needs, you knew where to touch yourself, how to stroke your pussy in a way that had your back arching and your eyes rolling to the back of your head. A sigh would then escape your lips, a needy one because nothing felt as amazing as a mindblowing orgasm after teasing yourself for so long. Your hips would then buck up, and your hand is rubbing very messily at your poor clit before you cum with a loud and long moan–

“Shuji–!” 

You snap out of it so fast, jolting up away from your bed and blinking at your reflection in the mirror.

What the fuck? 

A grown ass woman–one who gets action…not that often, but still enough to fulfill her needs, daydreaming about a man whom she slept with once? It doesn’t make sense. Or maybe it does, you're too deep in denial to admit that the person you've been longing for is the same man who shaped parts of your teenage years, even if it was only for a short time.

The heavy sigh that leaves you is so loud that it bounces off the walls of your empty apartment. So vacant, but it reminds you how Hanma’s short yet dominating presence was enough to make it feel…less hollow. You hated how he filled the void that you had been long wanting to replace, whether it be by decorating your space with greenery or going on pottery dates with friends or even getting your cat more toys just to watch him run around the apartment–the loneliness was hard to swallow. You despised the feeling, it gripped you by the throat and forced you to remember the framed pictures sitting on the shelf above the TV. Friends, family, co-workers–you were made of pieces of them, each having given you a memory to cling onto and use it as a lifeline. 

What do you do when that lifeline is barely hanging by a thread?

Your eyes land on the singular picture that rests on your nightstand, and your frown deepens for a moment as realization hits you. The two people in this picture were supposed to stay with you for a long time, your protectors as they liked to call themselves. You purse your lips and inhale deeply. The bitter aftertaste sitting on your tongue is hard to wash down.

You were perfectly fine being shaped by bits of everyone you'd ever met, but weren’t your brothers meant to be there for life?

“Here, keep this on you all the time.” You stare at the shiny knife as your oldest brother places it on your nightstand, eyebrows furrowing in confusion and you’re forced to close your book.

“A knife?”

“Yeah, it’s for your safety.”

“Ran, why would I need to carry a knife with me?” 

“You never know,” you’re not sure if that’s meant to comfort you—probably not. 

Ran Haitani is very proud of the fact that he had adopted you. Technically, his parents did–but he hated them, and they abandoned you a long time ago, so it was he who adopted you. He remembers you being a tiny baby in your mother’s arms the day that she had picked you up from the adoption center, said something about how she was so excited for this new chapter of her life, and both Ran and Rindou were excited–over the moon to be welcoming a little sister. At 6 and 5 years old, they didn’t know what blood related meant– it never mattered to them in the first place even as they got older. You were a Haitani, their precious little sister, and that meant the whole world to them.

However, the bond grew a little bit stronger after your parents left. Your father was the first to abandon the family, you were 5, Ran was 10 and Rindou’s 9th birthday was approaching. You remember it being a cold day–it wasn’t gloomy outside or anything, but as you sat in the middle of the living room with your brothers by your side, the apartment felt a bit bigger, emptier. A child is fragile, anything can affect them if not dealt with properly–the absence of your father was the first time you had to experience your ‘big feelings’ as Ran liked to describe them. You don’t know what holding back tears is, so you cry as you hug your knees to your chest and let Rindou soothe your back with a gentle hand. It’s a small gesture, but enough to anchor your stuttering breaths. 

“It’s okay,” Rindou says as you sniffle. When you look at him, you see that his eyes are glossed over with something–tears. He blinks them away as soon as he catches you staring at him. “It’s not like we need him, right?”

“Of course not,” Ran speaks confidently, standing over you and Rindou with a superhero-like stance. “As long as you’ve got me, nothing will happen to you!”

“And me!” Upon seeing his older brother act like a superhero, Rindou quickly jumps up and stands next to him. It’s adorable, it gives you hope–your little child body, so overwhelmed with emotion and having to deal with the abandonment of a parent temporarily distracted by the two boys standing in front of you.

“I’m Sailor Uranus,” Ran extends one arm outward with his fingers splayed, while his other arm is bent at his side. He shares a look with Rindou, trying to mask his wobbling lips. Rindou averts his gaze, cheeks set ablaze with overwhelming emotion. Sadness, embarrassment mixed with determination to make you, his little sister, feel better even for a few moments. 

“And I’m Sailor Neptune!” Rindou extends his arm forward, with his other hand pointing slightly upward towards you. Your heart swells with emotion, and you bring your arm to your face to wipe your tears.

“I..I’m Sailor Moon!” You join in weakly, and for a moment—(just a small one), everything seems okay. You have your brothers with you, recreating your favorite characters’ pose and trying to cheer you up. Just for a split second, you’re distracted from the ache that invades your heart and spreads all over your chest. 

But distractions are bad. Like a bandage on a leaking dam, offering a false sense of control while the real flood builds behind them. 

You had always looked up to your mother. It’s natural for a child to have an innocent fascination with one particular parent—after your father left, your mother had become everything to you. Now that you look back at it, it was definitely fear of being separated from her. Losing her so unexpectedly like you did with your father. You would sit in the living room waiting for her to come back from work, whilst Ran and Rindou were outside playing and didn’t necessarily mind the absence of their mother. They were older after all, and perhaps were able to see her for who she truly was earlier than you did. 

“She’s not going to come back on time,” Ran announces from behind you. You don’t move, still looking out of the window and waiting for her silhouette to appear. “You have to eat.”

“No,” you don’t mean for your voice to crack, but alas you’re a child and you cannot control your emotions. You wear your heart on your sleeve and the hurt you’re feeling from your mother’s repetitive tardiness is very apparent. “I’m not hungry.”

As if to mock you, your stomach growls the moment you say it. And Ran sighs behind you before approaching you. 

“No–” you push him away when he wraps his hand around your arm. “I won’t eat–!”

“Rindou hasn’t eaten all day,” Ran’s voice is stern. It momentarily distracts you from your stubbornness and your bottom lip starts wobbling. “He doesn’t want to eat without you—so please,” his voice is now barely above a whisper and your eyes meet his own lavender ones. The sob you choke out is raw, painful–you can’t hold it back any longer and you fall forward, attaching yourself onto your older brother. The taller boy holds you, rubbing soothing circles on your back as he heaves out a sigh.

No child deserves to go through this. 

A few months later, you get accustomed to seeing your mother less often. By the age of 10, Ran and Rindou had managed to make a name for themselves around the area–the rulers of Roppongi. You choose to ignore the events that led them in juvenile detention, you don’t necessarily associate that with great memories but life feels… simple. 

Whilst Ran brings the food and takes care of anything money related, Rindou is the one who is in tune with your emotional needs. He holds you in his arms when you are sad and caresses your head when you’re upset after a particularly nasty fight with Ran. Rindou reminds you of the importance of the rules that they had given you when they started ruling Roppongi, that the way you dress is very important as a Haitani—their little sister. 

You carried that with you through adulthood.

The walls of your apartment have heard you cry for them, felt your sobs and longing. It’s strange how your apartment only knows of their existence through pictures, like ghosts they've never seen in person. Like hearing the echo of laughter in an empty room—faint and distant, yet it lingers, reminding you of the voices that once filled your childhood. 

You are filled with sadness and melancholy and longing—you feel ready to burst like a heavy rain cloud but somehow, you find the strength to hold it all in whilst darkening everything beneath you. Whilst the past few years have been one of the most important ones in your life, you can't deny that with every person you encountered, the shell guarding your heart grew tougher. Like armor forged over time. 

It’s useless to grieve the past, you can’t let it distract you from the task at hand, so you grab your vacuum cleaner and get to work.

Hopefully you’re done before sunset.

–

Ding dong

The digital clock on your microwave flashes 8:12PM in red, bold colors. You did your usual cleaning, showered and dried your hair, planned an outfit for Monday and were checking on some work you needed to do before the week starts. Who would visit you at this time of the day?

None of your co-workers had texted you all day, and you were hoping that they weren’t here to try to convince you to go out. Saying no to them the first time was hard as it is. 

“Shoooo,” you tell your cat as he races you to the front door. “Go away, you can’t get out,” you mumble to your fur companion as you place him on his cat tree and watch as he digs his claws into the plush fabric before running away to your room. 

Ding–ding ding ding!

“Coming! I’m coming,” you rush to unlock the door, forgetting to check through the peephole. As you open it, you get a whiff of a familiar perfume and a tall figure is standing a little too close to you.

“Wha–”

“I got dinner.” 

Of course it would be him. 

He stands before you in all his glory. Brand new suit, messy hair (he must’ve had a long day) and shoes that definitely looked less shinier than usual. You try not to stare too hard at his body, fight the carnal urge that tells you to keep your eyes a little longer on his thighs and lean against the door frame with your arms crossed over your chest. 

“What’s the occasion?”

“Being hungry?” You glare at his sarcastic comment and Hanma shrugs his shoulders with an amused grin.

“What? You don’t trust me?”

“Exactly, I don’t.”

“Well just to remind you, we agreed to be fuck buddies so–”

“For fuck’s sake–” you yank him inside your apartment and Hanma almost lets out a giggle at how flustered you looked. “You need to stop saying shit like that in my hallway.”

“What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

“People could hear you,” you shoot him a glare as you walk away from him. Hanma doesn’t miss the chance of checking out your ass in your tight booty shorts. He licks his lips and follows right behind you, plastic bags rustling as he places the food on the kitchen counter.

“What did you get anyway?” You ask as you sit back on the kitchen table, nose shoved deep in your laptop as you continue your work. You’re far too focused on the words in front of you to notice that Hanma had quieted down and was now fully staring at you–taking the sight of you and placing it at the forefront of his mind. 

Despite having seen you naked before, Shuji thinks that you look the most attractive like this. Like the adult women that you matured into. He can’t remember the last time he saw you this concentrated—(was it when he snuck into your room as teenagers? He found you sitting at your desk, nose buried in your homework that you didn’t even notice him opening your window after he had climbed your fire escape). He can’t say he doesn’t like it. The smallest details stood out to the same man who claims to be nonchalant about everything else–the slight pout and frown to your lips, eyebrows furrowing and eyes darting across the screen, pausing briefly to take in each and every word. You wear glasses now. 

(And glasses look good on you, they make your nose look cute).

 A sigh escapes your lips and as you inhale, you finally catch his stare. Intense like a spotlight, analyzing your every move and pinning you in place. 

For obvious reasons, you feel tense under the weight of his golden eyes fixed on you. Exposed, stripped of any secrets you hadn’t even dared to write down in your diary. Hanma’s eyes had the effect of unraveling every guarded truth, as if his intense gaze alone could coax confessions from the deepest corners of your soul. 

Like how you touch yourself to the thought of him.

You avert your gaze towards the bag, growing uncomfortable with the suffocating silence.

“So?”

“Ramen.” You almost deadpan at the man. It’s fascinating how he can shift the tension in the room just by spilling out a few words. 

“You bought ramen??”

“Am I not allowed to?” He pushes himself off of the kitchen counter and starts walking towards you.

“When you said I got dinner, I thought you meant a meal,” you take off your glasses and place them on the table before staring at the bag tiredly. “That’s an unhealthy meal, Hanma.”

“That’s what I get for dinner, usually.”

“You’ve got money.”

“Your point?”

“Go to restaurants??” you say in disbelief and Hanma shrugs his shoulders as he stands next to you, enjoying the obvious height difference. One that reminds him of how big his hands looked on your thighs that night. 

“Tooooo much work,” he drags out his words before stretching his arms over his head. The action elicits a yawn out of his lips and you scoff before grabbing the bag and emptying its content on the table. “Besides, what’s so bad about having instant ramen?”

“It’s unhealthy,” you reply flatly, reaching for the electric kettle. You fill it up with water before pressing the ‘on’ button, the action coming to you so quickly and naturally that it makes Hanma raise an eyebrow.

“Hey, you turned it on a little too fast for someone who thinks instant ramen is unhealthy,” 

“Because this is my kitchen?” The reply you give is laced with sarcasm, absolutely done with whatever he has to say and all Hanma does is just stand back and grin. How fun. 

“Right, of course,” you avert your gaze the moment Hanma’s fingers wrap around his tie, loosening it to allow himself to breathe a little–feel comfortable in an apartment that has already welcomed him twice already. Does he remember the layout? Not exactly. However, his brain is able to trace the map from your kitchen to your bedroom like a professional cartographer. The detail was etched in their mind, like a name carved into stone. 

So he makes himself comfortable, he walks past you and into the living room and you watch as he sits on your couch and stares around your decorated space. 

“Is that a cat tree?” he points at the item sitting near the window. 

“Mmmh,” you hum in response, pouring water into the instant ramen cups. “Why?”

“ ‘s just that I’ve never seen your cat,” he looks around, trying to figure out where your fur companion might be. “But I see signs of that fucker everywhere.”

“Don’t call my cat a fucker.” You almost hiss and it catches Hanma off guard. Not that it was the first time you ever spoke to him in that tone, but you must be very attached to your cat. 

“Whew,” he whistles as he raises his arms in the air.. “My bad. Didn’t know you were that kind of person.” 

Your eye twitches. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you pause on your way to the living room, the cups of ramen were starting to burn your hands but you could care less. 

“Y’know, getting all defensive over an animal?”

“You mean have empathy and emotional connection?” 

“Emotional connection with a cat?” Hanma braces himself forward with his elbows on his knees. His side profile comes into view, but he quickly turns to face you and he sees the way you were slowly losing your patience. “That shit is for people who are lonely.”

It is eerily silent after that. For a good five seconds, Hanma doesn’t seem to understand why you give no reply nor do you make a move. He looks away, pats his pocket to find his phone and turns to look at you. You are still glued to your spot. 

You hope he doesn't hear the sound of your heart breaking, or notice the way your body instantly deflates. 

“It must be.” Your reply is devoid of any emotion. You look away from Hanma’s intense gaze, suddenly growing uncomfortable under all of the attention he was giving you. As you take a seat on the couch (while maintaining a good distance between you and the tall man), you push Hanma’s cup towards him. 

“Here.”

“Thank you.” 

Hanma doesn’t feel comfortable with the silence. It bothers him that he doesn’t. 

You try not to pay attention to him, but it turns out that it’s a hard task given how huge the man is. He spreads his legs on your couch, leaving you almost no space, so you have to nudge his thigh with your knee. 

“Move, you’re taking up too much space.” You’re still avoiding his gaze, and Hanma’s finger twitches as he reaches for his ramen cup. 

“I’m a tall man, doll.”

“Don’t care, you’re sitting on my couch.” You say it with a hint of childishness, your tone laced with annoyance.

Hanma chooses to let it slide and slightly closes his legs, allowing you more space on your small couch. However, your behavior still doesn’t sit right with him. You're not truly aware of your surroundings, even though it may seem like you are—one moment you’re holding your chopsticks, the next you’re looking for the remote control. Hanma watches as you jab at the noodles with your chopsticks, seemingly unfazed by the steam rising from the cup.

“It’s hot.” 

Be careful.

“Ah!” you hold a hand to your mouth, your chopsticks falling on the surface of your coffee table. Your eyes are pricking with tears, and you fan your mouth whilst internally cursing yourself for not paying attention.

“Told you it’s hot,” he sounds unbothered—perhaps a little bored, but still reaches for your face to grab it. You don’t fight back despite the urge to get away from him—from his touch. His rough hand holds your jaw like a rag doll and you force yourself to open your eyes. “Open up.” He takes notice of your swollen lips, then you stick out your tongue and it’s reddened. 

In that moment, you realize there's no space left between the two of you. Any distance you tried to maintain with the tall man has vanished, and you let it happen—you let yourself forget why you're mad at him, giving your mind a break from the constant tension around him.

Everything quiets down, you instantly find yourself lost in the same gaze you had been trying long and hard to avoid. You feel hot—you are sure Hanma’s body feels like a furnace against your skin. However, like two flames flickering inches apart, you both burn with the same heat but never quite touch in a way that would have you melting like a candle. 

It’s a continuous tug of war inside your brain as you hold his gaze, your pulse quickening with each subconscious attempt at moving closer to him—even by an inch. Technically, the two of you were now fuckbuddies, two friends who fuck when the other is free or one is feeling like it. There were no strings attached, no responsibilities, no—

“Ya hungry?” Hanma’s voice is a few octaves deeper. You feel a chill run down your spine before making a poor attempt at shaking your head whilst he’s still holding your jaw. 

You feel a pair of lips against yours, and you take it as a response to what you had told him. 

Hanma’s kisses are rough—he pushes his entire body on top of yours as he kisses you, trapping you beneath him. 

You’re glad the cushions beneath you are soft, because the way he pins you down is anything but.

Dominating and playful, he moves his lips against yours in such a dizzying manner that you have to tap his shoulder to ask him for air. But even when he pulls away from your lips to allow you oxygen, his lips land on another patch of skin—your cheek, your jaw, his teeth nibble at your earlobe and he can feel his cock throb when you buck up your hips. 

“Impatient, aren’t we?”

He presses his forehead against yours and you grow annoyed. Frustration washes over you as you realize you crave more of him, even though you know you shouldn't allow the man so close or invade your personal space. Yet, here you are, yielding beneath him. His kisses are like a wildfire in your veins—once it ignites, it spreads uncontrollably, and no matter how dangerous, you can’t help but feed the flames. 

And feed the flames, you do.

Hanma has never seen you so eager, so needy—sure he’s fucked you before, he’s nestled his cock so deep within the snug walls of your pussy but this–

This was different. 

You’re craving him—his lips against yours like a lifeline. Not once has he seen your body move so desperately against his own whilst your clothes are still on. It makes the muscles of his face twitch.

Smirking, he grabs the back of your thigh and pushes it up to your chest before leaning down—face dangerously close to yours. He doesn’t say anything, eyes scanning your expression—the twitch to your lips, the slight furrow to your eyebrows and the sigh that escapes through your nose from how needy you are. You throw your head back against the couch, nudging Hanma’s butt with your free foot. 

“You’re staring.” 

“Am I?” His tone, his words—they make the butterflies in your stomach erupt like wildfire. You can only afford to whine in response, clearly struggling to take his teasing. He is so dominant— to the point where submitting to him was the only choice you had. As you lie beneath him, Hanma is like a cat playing with a string, effortlessly toying with your patience and leaving you both frustrated and horny. 

Incredibly horny. 

“Shuji,” you reach your hands towards his face, holding it and brushing your thumbs against his cheeks. You brush your nose against his, your teeth sinking into his bottom lip so softly—so gently that it makes him chuckle. 

“You’re gentle with it,” he breathes hotly against your lips, digging his fingers into your skin to show you how rough he likes it. You’re about to push him off of you, straddle his lap and show him that you can be rough with it. It feels like a treat you’re craving, it’s attached to a string and Hanma keeps pulling it away from you every time you’re about to have it—

A loud moan escapes your lips when he’s back on you so suddenly, not giving you enough time to breathe or ground yourself. Gripping his shoulders, Hanma enjoys the feeling of your nails digging into his skin—it ignites his body on fire and heightens his senses. The tall man grows more aware of your body temperature, of the vanilla body lotion you had freshly applied onto your skin or how you seem to be letting your nails grow longer—he’s locked in. 

“Oh doll,” he breathes out against your lips as he pulls away. You’re about to moan in response, rile him up further until he’s snatching your clothes off your skin and dig his cock deep into your insides–

“Fuck!” Hanma shouts–no, he screams out of nowhere and is pushing his body off of you. “What the fuck?!”

“What–what?! What’s wrong?” you’re confused, a little startled as you push yourself up with your elbows. 

“Motherfucker–” you hear hissing from the end of the couch, and you look behind Hanma to find your cat sinking his claws into his back. “Let go of me!”

“Calm down!” you try to separate the two, get your cat off the couch and Hanma to stop reaching for the back of his blouse.

“How the fuck am I supposed to calm down when this little fucker–I will fucking–”

“I said calm down.” you repeat sternly. Your hands reach for your cat’s paws, although he hisses at you, you still understand that it’s a normal reaction for him. Standing up, you grab your fur companion who tries to wriggle out of your hold and he comes face to face with a furious Hanma. 

Your cat hisses again.

“The fuck is his problem?”

“He’s not used to strangers,” you caress your pet’s head, sensing that he’s on high alert. “Let alone men.” 

“Your cat hates men?” 

Your face twists. “My cat isn’t a misandrist.” You roll your eyes at him. “He just… doesn’t appreciate men.” 

“Fancy fucking word–” 

“Anyway, I’m taking him to his room.”

“This fucker has a room?”

“Technically it’s my office.” 

Hanma watches as you walk away with the fur companion who meows very loudly, making his dislike towards the man very clear. He hears you try to shush the pet, promise it good food and treats as long as he behaves and if Hanma didn’t know any better, he would think you were crazy.

Maybe you were. He would never show that much patience towards an animal. 

But now he is able to process what has happened. Assessing the situation, the realization that he got cockblocked by a damn cat hits him like a truck and he sits there, dumbfounded and half offended. 

Cockblocked by a fucking cat. 

You walk back into the living room, looking a bit embarrassed and Hanma takes it that you had come to the same conclusion as him. You stand next to the couch, awkward and stiff and your hands are fiddling with the fabric of your shorts before you open your mouth.

“I-”

“Don’t even.” 

Hearing his bored tone, you deflate and sigh before plopping next to him on the couch. You were now drier than the Sahara and he didn’t seem interested in rearranging your insides as he was a few moments ago. 

Well, you still have your food to finish. 

“Want me to heat up your food again?” 

“Mmm, sure.” 

—

Hanma plans to leave as soon as he’s done eating. It’s almost hilarious the way he grabs his jacket the moment he slurps the final noodle into his mouth and you don’t have it in you to ask him where he’s going. 

After all, it wasn’t part of your agreement. Despite the fact that you didn’t even fuck properly tonight, you still knew that his business wasn’t yours to know and his presence was always going to be temporary. 

“The elevator’s working by the way,” you are throwing the cups of Ramen in the trash when you suddenly speak up and Hanma has to pause his movements. 

“They fixed it?”

“After paying a huge sum of money, yeah they did.”

“That’s good.”

“Mmmhm.” Cold and distant, this is how you want to present yourself to the same man who has no problem taking your heart in his hands and shattering it into small pieces. 

“Next time I come over, I hope that fucker doesn’t dig his nails into my ass next.” Next time.

“I’ll make sure we fuck on my bed then.” You say playfully, bringing the glass of water to your lips and Hanma watches as you maintain eye contact the whole time. 

“Oh yeah? Already planning the next time we gonna fuck?”

You shrug your shoulders. “You were good. I’d be a fool if I said I didn’t want it again.”

Hanma chuckles, offering his signature smirk with a tilt to his head. “Good? Not great, or fucking amazing?”

“Good.” You put emphasis on the word, but the tall man notices how you avoid his eyes and it’s an indirect confession. 

“Sounds like you want me to change your mind.” Squeezing your thighs at the sound of his deep voice, you almost moan in relief when you see him start to take off his jacket.

Fucking finally. 

“Maybe I do.”

—

The November cold was unbearable. The man shivers inside his own car and his hand reaches towards the heater to turn it on. He doesn’t understand why he is here, it was too late for him to be parked under a residential building and he sure hopes he doesn’t look suspicious with the way he keeps checking for the door. 

“Come on, come on…” 

Almost on cue, the door opens and a tall figure walks out. Hair messed up, clothes half adjusted and a cigarette hanging off his lips. It was none other than Hanma Shuji. The man watches as the criminal checks his phone for a good ten seconds before blowing out smoke, his chest stutters a bit as he scoffs and he shoves the device into his pocket before walking towards his car. 

Hanma doesn’t seem to notice the unknown car and the mysterious man is grateful for that. He wants to avoid problems. 

However, how was he going to explain his sudden visit at 11:30PM? 

He shouldn’t…or perhaps he should. 

When you open the door, your eyes are heavy with sleep and the man can’t help but stare at the love bites littering your neck. 

“Hey, missed me?”

Your eyes widen and you instinctively open the door wider. 

“Chifuyu.”

༉‧₊˚. interested in commissioning me? if not, leave a ko-fi!

2024 © all works belong to @slttygeto. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works.

[tteokdoroki]

hi aali! my ideal valentines gift would be a dainty tennis bracelet that i’ve been wanting for a while <3 and i’d swipe sweet on sukuna ! (bonus: i buy him a silver chain since he’s been wanting a new one !)

⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡. — RYOMEN SUKUNA. swipe sweet: simplicity.

about. boom, it’s a match! ryomen sukuna and yourself have come to an agreement. no gifts and no materialistic things for v-day… but he really can’t help it, especially because you’ve never received a gift out of love and not because someone is trying to buy it ( 0.7K )

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, established relationships, modern bf!sukuna, rich girl + fem!reader.

・:〃⤥ bumble date, swipe right event !

ryomen sukuna doesn’t come from money.

he’s an honest man who works an honest job and makes an honest living. he does what he can to support his family and keep his head above water — and that’s enough for him. sukuna wasn’t always this good nor this honest, the rough and troubled days of his youth have hardened his exterior and made him hard to love. 

to everyone except for you. 

you’re a girl that comes from money.

you’ve never worked a day in your life, but you do what you can to be there for siblings way too evil and ungrateful to care about the sacrifices you had made for them. you weren’t always this noble and you didn’t always care and maybe that made you hard to love. 

but you found each other, despite how difficult showing love may be. you found love for yourselves and each other in simplicity and comfortable quietness. in the way that you’re both so alike and yet so different. how you were raised and the backgrounds in which you came from don’t matter you or sukuna. as long as you’re content by one another’s sides. 

that’s why you had a rule. no gifts on valentine’s day — you would settle for one another’s company, perhaps a home cooked meal from sukuna’s skilful hands and some cheap chocolate you'd impulsive bought on the way home. you already owned everything money could buy thanks to your father and his fruitful lifestyle, there wasn’t anything more you could possibly want except for being with your boyfriend like it was any other day. it was simple, being together was simple. 

that’s why you frown as sukuna pushes a small, pink box tied with a little white ribbon across the smooth marble of island in your kitchen. it sits suspiciously between the glass of red wine your boyfriend had poured for you and the roses you had gotten for him (which he liked, he just wouldn’t admit to it.).

“i thought we said no gifts, ryo?” you drawl questioningly, tapping your nails against the counter as you lean over it. 

sukuna doesn’t turn from the stove, his muscled back rippling as he flips your steaks. “that didn’t stop ya from gettin’ me roses, did it, gorgeous?” the smirk he chucks you from over his shoulder stirs the butterflies in your tummy, ones that only react to his love and his touch. “open it up. wanna see the look on your face when you see it.” 

your frown quickly dissipates into an affectionate smile as you take the box between your fingers — fighting a swoon. “i really don’t need anything, ryo. you know that.” the ribbon falls apart in your hands and the lid on the box pops off easily. “i have everything money could buy…” 

but then, your voice dies in your throat just as your boyfriend dishes up your meal and you gift is finally revealed. “everything but somethin’ i’ve gotten you,” your boyfriend says gruffly, mirroring you as he throws a tea towel over his shoulder and leans over the island to take your delicate little gift between his thick, calloused fingers. a tennis bracelet made from the finest silver sits pretty in ryomen’s hands, it’s silver charms glint under the dim and romantic lighting set for tonight. there’s a little ‘s’ for his family nickname, and a heart as if to remind you that his is forever yours.

he reaches out, surprisingly tender for someone so hardened, and grasps your wrist — helping you with the clasp on the little bracelet. “i know you’re not materialistic, couldn't care less about money. but no one’s ever gotten you anythin’ because they care. not because they’re tryna buy your love.” he explains, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

as if loving you this much is the most normal thing in the world. 

“aww ryo,” pouting, you wrangle his hand into holding your own — looking across at your boyfriend with puppy dog eyes. “you love me? you’re not trying to buy my love?” 

“don’t need to,” he rolls his blood red eyes, but you don’t miss how they brim with love. “ain’t you whipped f’me?” sukuna sasses you, plays mean, but his lips against the inside of your wrist tell you otherwise. he’s just as whipped as you are. 

“kinda,” you respond. 

“only kinda?”

“yeah, sorta.” 

“just say you love me, brat.” 

“alright, ryomen sukuna. i love you.”

and you do, more than what glitter’s and more than what’s gold ( even if your bracelet is silver ). 

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[fandomnerd9602]

TLC (🌶️)

Bambi!Wanda x Reader

Life was well adjusting for you, your doe hybrid wife Wanda and of course the twin hybrid boys Billy and Tommy. The four of you all felt like one big happy family.

The Sanctuary was up and running well. The public loves you and a Wanda as the spokespeople for the organization.

Overall, life was perfect. But there was a little nagging feeling at the back of Wanda’s head. It appeared every time she looked into the mirror after a shower.

Wanda didn’t think she looked as beautiful as when she met you. True she had put on a little bit of weight, not much. In fact you didn’t even notice it. But she did. Of course a person is their own worst enemy.

Natasha approached you one day in the Sanctuary’s office.

“Hey boss,” she smirked, “I need these papers signed by the end of today and Wanda needs your love”

“I love my doe. I tell her every day” you replied.

“True but I think she needs a special reminder, bud.” Natasha explains, “she needs to know that she’s still a goddess in your eyes”

You quickly sign Natasha’s papers and hurry out the door, “I’m taking the rest of the day off. Thanks Wolf Buddy!”

You took Wanda home and drew her a bath. You set out a home spa kit for her and turned down the lights in the bathroom.

“Detka,” your doe mate giggles and blushes at your display of affection.

“Just take a little you break, okay?” You topped it off with a kiss, “the boys are staying with Natasha tonight”

And with that, you gently closed the door and let Wanda have a little afternoon alone in the bathroom with some scented candles and some relaxing lavender scented bath bombs.

Meanwhile you went to work, crafting a homemade vegan meal for you and your beloved mate. You loved cooking for Wanda and the boys. It was like a hidden love of yours.

You got the vegetarian dish on the stove simmering as you heard the gentle footsteps of your doe walking down the stairs. She was wrapped in your white robe and her hair was damp. As if there was any way that your mate couldn’t look more goddess like.

She gently walked over to you and wrapped you in a hug, kissing you softly. “Thank you, detka” she whispered against your lips.

“Oh that was just part one” you smiled.

“How many parts have you planned?” Your mate giggled.

“Three, five. I lost count, my doe” you shrugged your shoulders.

The vegetarian dish you prepared went perfectly with the wine that Wanda selected. The two of you are able to talk and communicate with one another like you were on your first date again. It felt marvelous.

You both changed into your pajamas and danced together in the living room to your favorite songs.

“Detka,” she giggles as she holds to you, “this night has just been perfect”

“We’re not done yet” you gave a wink.

You led Wanda back to the couch, a little uncertain. You and your doe were always very open with each other when it came to mating.

You sat her down and knelt before her like a knight before his queen.

“Wanda, do you trust me?” You gently asked her.

“Of course I do,” she giggled.

“Okay then just lean back, relax, and let me worship you, my doe”

Wanda simply leaned back, letting herself rest against the couch. You gave a kiss to her lips, then one to her neck and then another to her collarbone.

“Detka,” your mate gently moaned. You pulled back and got back on your knees.

You kissed her lower legs and then her knees and then as far up on her thighs as you could before hitting the fabric of her pj shorts.

Wanda was practically a panting mess at this point and you had barely begun.

“Shall I continue?” You asked her, your voice a little deeper with intent.

She grabbed the strings of her shorts and undid the knot, loosening them right up for you.

“P-Please,” she begged you. You happily obliged.

First you pulled down her shorts and continued kissing your way up her legs.

Wanda’s panting breathes were all the encouragement you needed.

“I-I dreamt about this for a long time” she sheepishly moans out.

“Really?” You looked up to your goddess of a mate, “like what kind of dreams?”

“I use to touch myself to thoughts of you,” she admits, a blush making its way across her face. “And there was one spot that always made me feel good”

“Guide me,” you respond. “Please. I want you to feel as good as you make me feel”

Wanda lets out a nervous giggle. She gently takes a hold of one of your hands and guides it down between her legs. Your fingertips brush a certain little spot

Immediately Wanda tenses up, “t-there it is! M-my pearl.”

You begin touching it softly, rubbing small circles.

“H-Harder. Please” she begs. You oblige. Within seconds, your doe is a whimpering mess.

“Detka!” She moans, “(Y/N)! Oh!! Don’t stop!! Please don’t stop!!!”

You gently pull down her cotton garment and begin worshipping her even more.

Within a few mere minutes, she was gripping your shoulders, tense and shouting your name. Her eyes were shut tight as the feelings of euphoria and absolute fulfillment rushed over her entire being.

Your doe collapsed against the cushions of your couch, trying to catch her breath and smiling like a contented house cat.

“Thank you, thank you!” She was repeating thru panting breaths.

“Thank you,” you kissed her tenderly, “for letting me worship you”

She took a firm hold of your shoulder and guided you to sit on the couch.

Your amazing mate then got on her knees in front of you, her eyes were darkened with lust, love and adoration for you.

“Now let me worship you,” she said with a lustful purr. Her deer tail shaking with anticipation. “And…don’t be afraid to hold on to my antlers.” She gave you a little wink as she began unbuckling your pants.

Wanda, your wife, your mate, a graceful doe, a loving deer. The two of you can and will love and worship each other for as long as you both shall live and then long after into eternity.

Tags: @lifespectator @aloneodi @abimess @olsenmyolsen @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7 @multi-fandom-enjoyer

[natriae]

10:23pm

"can i tell ya a secret"

"sure" you whispered in response as you snuggled deeper into Atsumu's neck. The two of you had just gotten home from a long day at work and were ready to fall asleep in each other's arms.

"i thought," he started, giggling a bit, "i thought ya had a crush on sunarin for a long time" you felt him shake his head back and forth lightly before continuing, "i was stupid though"

Without seeing his face clearly you could tell he was scrunching his nose remembering how oblivious he was to your love.

"nah he's not my type," you teased as you moved your body completely over his using him as a bed.

"oh yeah, what is your type?" 'tsumu questioned, wanting to see you face flush from embarrassment. His hand reached for your hair petting it to convince you to lean up and look at him in the face. You lifted your arms up and used your forearms to keep you lifted above his head. Subconsciously, his hands wrapped around your waist keeping you stationed over his lean body.

You giggled as you leaned down so your noses touched as told him, "i like boys who are loud and kinda annoying," you watched his face pout at the comment before leaning down and giving a soft kiss on his lips, "and i like boys who are twins, and love to play volleyball," you furthered your reasoning with your hands playing with his hair.

"oh well that doesn't set me apart to much," he prodded. You moved your legs so they rested on each side of his waist and felt the beginning of a boner form in his boxers. You shook your head and kept talking knowing how much this was fulling his ego.

"i like boys who seem come off as gay," you commented, reminding him that you thought he had a thing for Sakusa before you really knew him. You smiled at his reaction before whispering, "i like boys who have really pretty brown eyes that look a little yellow in the sunlight. I like boys who get pouty when someone does something kind for them," immediately thinking of when he started tearing up at the fact that you and osamu worked hard to make him nice lunches for the Olympics.

"i love boys who have big egos even though it gets on my nerves sometimes," you watched his pouty lips turn into a smirk as red flooded his face in pride. You smiled back and grinded lightly into him as you spoke your next words, "i love boys who are such gentlemen, but whisper dirty comments to me when we're supposed to be serious," you couldn't help but let out a big smile thinking about all the times he's ruined professional dinners by accidentally making you blush to hard. You leaned down and left little kisses up his neck to his jaw, "i looovvee boys who have big bushy eyebrows,"

kiss

"boys who have big meaty thighs"

kiss

"boys who always have a big smile on their face just to cheer everyone else up"

kiss

"and i especially love boys who are super protective and possessive,"

"still can't tell if yer describin' me" he teases with his hands interlocked behind his head and his eyes closed.

"oh really," You leaned up, "i like boys who are lowkey perverts, but won't admit to it,"

His body immediately shot up and held you on his lap, "hey! that's not nice," he shouted with his eyebrows drawn together. You laughed at his reaction before holding his face in your hands.

"i love boys who love their family," you said to cool him down leaving a light kiss on his nose.

Reaching down between you body you pulled his hard cock out of his boxers and moved your panties to the side before inserting it.

You left the joking aside and continued your affirmations as you tried to sink further down his cock without being prepped. "i love boys who's name's start with A, and who love dying their hair because it sets them apart"

"i love boys who love animals and will always swerve on the road if it means the animals are safe." you moved further down his cock, but the moment wasn't sexual. He turned the two of you over so you were on your back as he held himself on top of you. It was nothing more then two people in love.

You stared into his eyes and said, "my type is you and only you". The strong man leaned down and left a small kiss on your lips before letting himself relax complete over your body. He was like a big soft weighted blanket. One arm you had wrapped around his back while the other messaged his hair. "'sumu," you whispered into the night air of the master bedroom, but there was no response just quiet snores from the man on top of you. You giggled and continued to message his scalp.

Moments like these were important, moments where Atsumu was recognized for himself. Miya Atsumu a man who loves his mom more than anything, and would drop everything if his brother needed him, not Miya Atsumu MSBY star setter, not Olympic champion Miya Atsumu, not Osamu's twin, or the golden fox, but his own ordinary person. Who was important for just being himself. <3

[tkwrites]

Elimination - Quinn Hughes x ofc

 gif by @thombordeleau 

Title: Elimination

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Pre-established: Quinn x Sarah

Warnings: Sad Quinn, fluff and comfort, smut (18+ only), unprotected sex, p in v, oral (f receiving), if I missed any others, please let me know. 

Summary: When the Canucks are eliminated from the Stanley Cup Playoffs, Sarah offers Quinn a kind of comfort he didn’t know he needed. 

Word count: 4,200

Comments: This snapshot has been a long time coming. The idea of Sarah comforting Quinn the way she does came to me while I was driving to work one day, and I immediately wrote it down. It took me quite a while to figure Quinn’s family into the story, including his brothers (yes! They're finally here!). 

As I was editing the comfort scene, I found the story continuing in a way I didn’t really expect, but mirrored Before I meet your parents… in a way I couldn’t ignore. 

If you enjoy it, please let me know by commenting or reblogging! Your comments really do inspire me to keep writing! 

Elimination 

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

The playoffs were a whole different beast than Sarah had become accustomed to. Not only was the season much longer than any of the guys were used to, practices were more intense and heated, video more in depth, the need for rest and recovery more acute. She knew first hand how tired the team was because she knew first hand how tired Quinn was. 

In the first round, they'd lost the first game in the series before rallying to win the next three. The Kings won one more before the Canucks stamped them out with the last win coming on home ice in overtime. Despite the final score only being 1-0, it was the most exciting game Sarah had ever been to. 

When she was sitting with Quinns family, Luke had taken to teasing her in that little brother way every time her hands ended up clutching her face with each shot directed at Demko or Talbot. 

“Calm down, Sarah,” he’d said, when she jumped in her seat, hands flying up to cover her mouth as Demko barrel rolled to stop another shot from Kopitar.

She'd sent a playful glare his way, “I'm surprised Kylee hasn't told you you should never tell a woman to calm down. That's a surefire way to get yourself into trouble.” 

Kylee, who was sitting on Lukes other side, snorted. “Oh, I have. He just doesn’t listen.”

Luke took it in stride and laughed. He reminded Sarah so much of her oldest nephew, Ryan. Good natured, friendly and a little bit goofy once she broke through that shy shell.

Sarah glanced at Jack, who was sitting with his some of his cousins farther down the row. His eyes darted away, as if caught staring at something he shouldn’t. 

The strained way he acted around her was getting better, but he was still pretty standoffish toward her. When she asked Quinn what she could do to fix it, he said to just give it time, and Jack would come around eventually. He didn’t think it was actually anything about her, but rather Jack needing time to adjust to the situation. 

“I think he finally realized how serious I am about you.” 

“You’re serious about me?” she’d asked, all flirty lashes and coy smiles. 

“You know I am,” he’d responded before leaning in to kiss her. 

So, she turned back to the game, giving Jack time and hoping he would see  how much she loved his older brother and that she only meant well. 

When Garland shot the overtime goal off a picture perfect pass from Quinn, he managed to catch Talbot above the blocker, sending the puck sailing into the back of the net with a definitive whoosh. 

The arena erupted into a wall of sound.

The entire team, clad in blue, spilled onto the ice, throwing helmets and gloves, crowding around Conor and Thatcher. 

Quinn was ecstatic that evening. Practically bouncing off the walls of the club they went to to celebrate. Sarah had never seen him so loud - caught up in the atmosphere and moment. 

Halfway through the night, he pulled her into a dim corner and kissed her so thoroughly, she actually considered pulling him into the dingy bathroom to have her way with him right then. 

Jack interrupted, drunkenly loud, and demanded that Quinn come with him for a round of shots. 

Quinn paused, meeting Sarah’s eye. 

“Go celebrate,” she encouraged, trying her best to not come between them. She and Quinn could find a spare moment to celebrate on their own later. 

With his family in his house, that moment hadn’t come, but she was glad to see Quinn celebrating so heartily with his brothers. 

In the second round, after three straight losses to the Predators, Vancouver battled, forcing game five, before dominating in Nashville two nights later, selling their comeback story.

When they got back to town, the whole city was buzzing.

Despite the excitement, game six was awful to watch. Sarah had her hands over her mouth through most of it.  

Now that they were fighting to tie, and the Preds were fighting, once again, to clinch the series, Nashville was playing dirty: exploiting every Canucks weakness they could find. They needled, drawing penalty after stupid, preventable penalty until they were three goals up at the end of the second period. 

Quinn was exhausted. Sarah could see it in his skating and in the slumped set of his shoulders as they went into the dressing room for the intermission.

She sent him a text, I’m so proud of you. 

He didn't reply, but they battled back, holding off all Preds offense and getting within a goal by the time Demko was pulled at the end of the third. Quinn battled fiercely to keep the puck in the offensive zone for more than a minute, giving a master class on body-eye coordination as he skirted the blue line, dodging Nashville players as if someone were controlling him with a top ice view. 

Their passes were perfect: tic-tac-toe from Quinn to Mikheyev to Lafferty, but as Sam tried to get the puck to Höglander, the pass was intercepted.

Nashville fought to center ice and chipped the puck into the Vancouver end. 

Quinn chased it, but he just didn't have enough in the tank. He caught up just as the puck bounced back out of the open net. 

Full of frustration and despair, he smacked it into the boards. Caught at just the right angle, the puck ricocheted back at him, and he had to lift a hand to block it from hitting him in the face. 

Sarah could practically see the frustrated embarrassment radiating off him as he skated to sit down. 

Demko was pulled again and Quinn managed to get the empty netter back, but through the ugly march of time, the clock expired before they could score another. 

The buzzer sounded and Nashville celebrated, throwing equipment all over the ice, all hugging and jumping as the Canucks limped into the dressing room. 

Even despite the disappointment of losing, everyone was thrilled to see them get this far. Going from the middle of the pack last season to top of the league this year was no small feat. She knew Quinn wouldn’t be satisfied until they got the cup, but she was so proud of him. 

He sent a text, telling them to go home and he would meet them there when he was done with the media. 

It was torture for Sarah to have to leave and wait for him. She wished she could go down to the dressing room, but knew not only would she not be allowed in, Quinn would hate it. He would want to talk with her privately. 

Everyone was subdued as they puttered around the apartment, waiting for him. Both Jack and Luke were on their phones, sprawled out over the living room furniture, while Ellen, Jim and Kylee were doing something in the kitchen. Sarah was too nervous to even distract herself. Quinn had lost before, of course, but she’d never seen him lose like this — not this kind of a season-ending, brutal loss. 

When the elevator dinged, Sarah jumped to her feet, his family following suit, clambering into the living room.

To her surprise, Quinn came straight to her, not even bothering to shut the door behind him. His suit was rumpled, his tie attempting to slither out of his breast pocket. When she wrapped him in her arms, he practically collapsed against her. 

Ellen knew Quinn loved and trusted Sarah and that he spent far more time with her these days, but it was still a bit shocking when he bypassed them all to go straight to her for comfort.

Sarah reacted in a way Ellen never had and upon seeing the scene play out, she realized Sarah’s reaction may have been something Quinn had been longing for for a long time.

She would usually hug him for a while, before talking him down. They would soon end up dissecting shifts and plays. He would lament how he could have been better, and she would try to comfort him while still being realistic. 

Sarah just stood there, holding him. She didn't say a word, even when Quinn started to cry softly. She just ran a hand into his wet hair, while the other traveled slowly up and down his back. 

 She didn't assure or placate him, or even try to get him to stop crying. She just let him express the emotion without judgment or commentary. It hit Ellen suddenly that Sarah reacted this way because she had dealt with so much sorrow in her life, she knew how to comfort in these hard moments. 

The family stood by and watched. She didn’t look up and meet their eyes with a conspiratorial, he’ll be alright, look, or invite them into the embrace. Her whole intention was focused on Quinn. 

While it was sweet to see them together in this way, it was also a little awkward to watch, especially for the boys, who looked like they had no idea what to do.

It was full minutes before anyone said anything, and even then, it was just Sarah asking if he wanted to sit down. He shook his head so she did a little two-step, and kept on. 

As Ellen watched them interact, it was obvious how much they meant to and understood each other. It was so sweet to witness her son finding the person he needed that she pulled out her phone to record them, wanting to document the moment. 

When they finally spoke, Ellen was glad she was filming. 

“I let everyone down,” Quinn said, his voice choked with emotion, just above a whisper. 

“No.” Her voice was quite loud, the word definitive, leaving no room for doubt. It was a bit shocking to hear Sarah be so forceful.

Taking his jaw, she gently lifted his head up so he had to look into her eyes. 

“No,” she repeated, her voice a little softer now. “This wasn't only your fault, and it didn't happen because of anything you did by yourself.”

Ellen wasn’t sure she would go that far… If he had gone for a change, someone with fresh legs may have been able to chase down that empty netter.

“You don’t win as a team, but lose by yourself. That’s not how this works.”

Now she understood where Sarah was going. 

“I know this run is ending sooner than you wanted and I'd be more concerned if you weren't sad.” She paused for a long moment, looking into his eyes as if she was searching for something. When she didn’t find it, she continued, “I just - I want you to remember that I don't love you because you play hockey.” 

His lower lip trembled and Ellen felt hers do the same. 

“I love you because of this big, kind heart,” she said as she pressed a hand to his chest, “and because of this brilliant, thoughtful mind,” her other hand slid into the hair at his temple. “And those are the same as they were this morning. You're so much more than hockey.”

He was looking at her like she'd hung the moon. 

Ellen felt tears slip down her own cheeks. All her life, she’d been trying to strike a balance with her boys - trying to find the right way to tell them hockey was just a part of who they are. And here Sarah was, walking into their life, and saying the exact thing Ellen had been trying to say all along. 

Right then and there, the remaining reservations she had about Sarah were swept onto the back burner. She knew it would still take some getting used to, but how could she not love this woman standing in front of her, telling her son she loved him for who he was and not for the things he did? It was all she could ask for as a mother. 

She glanced over at Jack, who looked a little dumbfounded, as if seeing Sarah for the first time. Luke was smiling in a glad, knowing way, his arm looped around Kylee. 

Jim, standing on Ellen’s other side had a mixture of pride and disappointment on his face. Ellen knew he was going to battle with himself at the thought of Quinn crying over being eliminated. When they were kids, he would have told the boys to buck up, despite Ellen’s insistence it was okay for them to express their sadness for a little while. 

The happiness at seeing someone accept Quinn as he was won out, and Jim put his arm around Ellen with a conspiratorial smile.

“Of course you’re going to be sad,” Sarah continued. “Like I said, I’d be more concerned if you weren’t. But you,” she poked him gently in the chest to emphasize her point, “sure as hell didn’t let me down.” 

Quinn threw his arms around her in a fierce hug. “I love you.”   

“I love you, too.” 

He wiped at his eyes, then turned to the family. They embraced him one by one. 

After she’d hugged Quinn, Ellen went to Sarah, “I don’t know how you did that,” she said, pulling her close, “but that was exactly what he needed.” 

When Quinn made his way back to Sarah, he kissed her temple. His eyes were still red, cheeks still splotched with color, but he looked settled. Not satisfied or happy, really, but settled.

Later that night, Ellen sent the video to her sister, making her promise to not share it with anyone. She just needed someone else to see the tenderness. 

Oh, Elle, I'm so glad Quinn finally found a good one. I can't wait to meet her. 

At the same time Ellen was texting her sister, Quinn was lying next to Sarah in bed. Her words from earlier replaying over and over again in his thoughts. 

He'd practically begged her to stay over. She hadn't planned to with his family in the house, but he felt a bit needy and wanted the comfort of her next to him. 

“Thank you for tonight,” he said, turning to her.

She rolled onto her side so they were face to face. “I'm always gonna be in your corner, Quinn.”

Leaning in, he kissed her - gently at first, but it soon turned more passionate. 

The fact that they would be apart before too long was on both their minds as they made love that night. 

“Oh, Quinn. Right there, right there,” she chanted, voice soft. 

The simple fact that he could make her feel this way made his heart feel full to bursting. At least he hadn't lost that. 

Keeping eye contact, his hand traced to her left knee and pulled it up over his hip. He didn’t want her to have the same old orgasm. Not tonight. A big part of him wanted to prove he could still excel here.

Head tipping back, Sarah panted.  

His other hand came up to guide her chin back down. 

The way she clenched around him when their eyes met made his hips stutter.

She lifted herself up to catch his mouth. It changed the angle of his thrusts, making his whole body quiver. He tried to brace against it, slowing down and concentrating on kissing the breath out of her. 

It worked in that they were both breathless before too long, but didn't ease the feeling of being pulled to the very edge of his restraint. The competitive streak inside him wasn't about to allow himself to come before she did - especially not tonight, when he had so much left to prove. 

“No,” she gasped  when he pulled away. “I was right there.”

He laughed into her skin. “I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart,” he said, before tracing his mouth over her clavicle and trailing his tongue between her breasts, savoring the salty taste of her skin. 

The blankets pulled with him as he settled between her legs, and Sarah gasped as the cool air of his room hit her. 

She looked so ethereal in a pool of soft light from one of the skylights, her chest rising and falling at a hurried, steady pace. 

“God, you're beautiful,” he whispered. 

Times like these, Quinn still wasn’t quite sure how he’d managed to find Sarah. She seemed to be his perfect match in every way. It wasn’t always smooth sailing - nothing ever was. This summer was sure to take a toll on their relationship. He knew, somehow, they would come out on the other side, better and stronger, but all the same, he wasn’t looking forward to spending so many nights without her. 

Pushing that worry out of his mind, he concentrated the task at hand and lowered his mouth to her hot center. 

It was his turn to give thanks.

She was acutely aware of his family in the apartment: brothers on the floor below, while his parents were down the hall. They were never particularly loud in bed, but the thought of his family overhearing hushed her vocal cords even more. 

“Quinn,” she whimpered.

He ate up every whisper, every little whine and panted breath, knowing they were just for him. 

Making some unintelligible noise, her back arched, lifting off the mattress. 

She whined when he eased two fingers into her and lifted his mouth. 

“Help me find it?” he whispered, crooking his fingers.

“Higher.”

He moved slowly, not wanting to go too fast and pass over it.  

“There, there,” she panted. 

Reaching up with his free hand, he disentangled her fingers from the sheet so he could grasp her hand, linking them together.

“You can press a little harder. It’s not as sen -” her voice broke off into a groaned, “oh, fuck,” as he urged that soft, spongey spot with a heavier touch. 

They’d done this more after his revelatory first time, and he loved discovering new things about her. He still had a hard time finding her g-spot on his own, but he was learning. Tonight felt like a whole new ego stroke, one he was seeking if he was being honest with himself.

His mind wandered back to the first time he’d touched her, the way she’d reminded him of Helen of Troy - beautiful beyond belief. He ached for her the same way now as he watched her fall apart. Mouth dropped open as her body pulled taught as a bow string, one hand grasping the headboard for stability while the other clutched his like a vice.

As she came down from her high, he kept his fingers pressed into her.

Even as she squirmed against the sensitivity from his strong touch, she felt a blaze of pleasure reignite in her belly, faster than it ever had before. 

Still kneading with his fingertips, he lowered down, sucking her sensitive pearl into his mouth. She let out a strangled cry that left him dizzy with satisfaction. 

The contrast of his warm mouth and soft tongue on her core against the harsh rasp of his playoff beard on her inner thighs wound her tighter and tighter until he was sparking so much ecstasy in her body, she couldn't quite remember why she was trying to be so quiet.

Her fingers tightened in his at the same time her legs trembled and he knew she was close. He continued on, mouth soft and steady while his fingers worked with more focused intent. 

The way she whimpered his name made him groan and rock his hips into the mattress to get a bit of relief.

When the tension in her pelvis finally snapped, Sarah cried out. 

It was only after she came back to herself and he eased his fingers from her that she worried about how loud she'd been. 

Before she could ask, he knocked her breathless again as he slid his fingers into his mouth, cleaning them with apparent relish. 

“Did I yell?” she whispered as he crawled back over her. 

He shook his head, “not too loud. I don't think they heard.”

The anxiety ebbed away as he leaned in to kiss her. 

“Can you turn over?” he asked, lips barely grazing hers. 

She pulled back to look into his face. 

“I want to make you feel good,” he said. 

“You already did. Twice.”

“Please?” he asked, ghosting his lips over her cheek, “let me make you come one more time.”

In reality, Quinn was tired, but his pride was insistent, eager to feel her again and he knew if he got her on her stomach she’d come faster than in missionary. 

He could see worry in her expression, but she did as he asked, the sheets clinging briefly to her back as she rolled. 

One of his hands grazed down her side, following the curvature of her hip before tracing her hamstring all the way to the knee. Hooking his hand there, he eased her leg out to the side. 

He really was spoiling her. Eagle with a broken wing was her favorite position other than missionary, but they didn’t do it terribly often, both generally preferring to see the other when they were together. 

She felt Quinn’s heat before any of his skin, and raised her hips slightly to facilitate him. 

“You’re —” she broke off into a groan as he eased into her again. She was so sensitive, she was fairly certain she would have fallen apart all over again if he had given her an intense enough look. Heat was already climbing up her spine and he hadn't even moved yet. 

His hands appeared near hers as he braced on his forearms. She moved to lace her fingers through his. 

When he began to thrust, he felt her fingers curl until her nails kissed his palms  

Listening to her sweet sounds, he couldn’t get enough of her. He wanted to live in her forever.

“Holy shit,” she breathed, chaos sparking all over her skin. “I didn't think I could come this many times so quickly.”

Her hushed statement rushed to his head. “Sarah,” he moaned into her neck. “Fuck, Sarah.” 

His mouth traced the curve of her neck before gently biting the ridge of her shoulder.

The prick of pain from his teeth combined with the way he was hitting her g spot in a steady, continuous rhythm had Sarah’s mouth falling open. “Oh. Quinn,” she moaned. “Just like that. Please don't stop.” 

Feeling out of his mind with pleasure and pride, he rested his forehead on her back.

Only after he felt her tremble and pulse around him and chanting that he loved her, he let himself go, spilling into her with a loud groan he tried to muffle into her skin. 

They stayed that way for a long while, his sweaty chest pressed into her back. He was a comfortable weight, pressing her into the mattress.

Quinn talked himself into moving and eased out, his wince matching the breath she hissed through her teeth. Before he could decide which side to roll onto, she was turning onto her back, and pulling him into her embrace. 

Resting his head on her chest, he sighed. 

Sarah smiled, tired but gratified and pushed a lock of hair off his forehead. She wanted to get up and go to the bathroom, but waited, knowing Quinn needed this extra affection.

“I don't…” he started to say, then trailed off, slowly tracing a circle around her belly button. 

He had never felt supported and loved like he had today. Not only when she just let him cry, but when she reminded him that she loved the things about him that weren't his job. 

Quinn hadn't known how much he needed to hear Sarah’s words until she was saying them. His whole family was so entwined in hockey that, even though he knew his parents loved him, it sometimes felt like his success and failure in the arena were wrapped up in their affection and approval. It was one of the reasons Jack always felt like the favorite child, as he had the most natural talent. 

“You don't?” she urged when he didn’t say anything else.

He shook his head and took a steadying breath. “I feel like I don't deserve you.” 

A little smile played on her lips, “I feel that way sometimes, too, but I'm not really sure it's about deserving. Everyone deserves love.” 

She paused for a long time playing with his hair. It relaxed Quinn, causing him to practically melt into her.

“I'm glad we're both willing to put in the work and try to meet in the middle,” she said quietly.

He agreed, pressing a kiss to the top of her breast.

As they stayed that way for a long time, Quinn felt cocooned in her love and hoped she felt the same. 

“Okay,” she said a little while later, starting to feel sticky and itchy, “I’m sorry, but I really need to shower, or at least rinse off.” 

They took a quick shower, and Quinn changed the fitted sheet as she redid her skincare. 

When they finally fell asleep tangled together, she in a pair of his shorts and a t-shirt, and he in his boxers, it was well after three. 

After sleeping like the dead, Quinn woke close to ten, still feeling that strong swell of gratitude easing the disappointment in his chest. 

If anyone in his family had heard them, they were all excellent actors, and didn't say a thing. 

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist 

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[thesoftboiledegg]

"Unmortricken" was a lot. In fact, it might have been a little too much.

To start, I loved the glimpse of what exists outside the Central Finite Curve. The visuals were stunning and reminded me of M.C. Escher's drawings. The Jetson-like family was a nice touch--if anything can happen, who says they can't have different animation styles? All those colorful portals make me wonder what's lurking just out of sight.

It's also funny that the space outside the Curve is full of Rick's favorite thing: crystals. If he took a trip there, he'd come back with his pockets stuffed with gemstones.

Evil Morty's reappearance gave us a decent character study. Since he wasn't the antagonist, we saw him interact with the C-137s as a regular person. Morty's a little impressed, and Rick has a grudging respect for him. Others have called Evil Morty the Rickest Morty, and I agree: similar intelligence, similar technology and similar bloodthirst.

I was glad that he left in the end because that's what his character arc is about anyway. He doesn't want to be part of anyone else's story, not even another Morty's.

However, that's also part of the issue that I had with this episode. Seeing Evil Morty was great, but it was also a little...pointless? You could've had the same story without him. He's not working with Prime, and he has no ties to C-137 after "Rickmurai Jack," so it felt like the writers just said "Hey, you know what would be cool?"

I'm not against writers having fun and giving the audience what they want. "Spider-Man: No Way Home" (yeah, groan at me, Marvel haters) is fan service in blockbuster form, and it was one of the best theater experiences I've ever had.

Still, if Evil Morty came back, I think he should've had a separate episode. The episode juggled C-137 Rick, Morty, Evil Morty and Prime Rick pretty well, giving them satisfying interactions with each other, but no Evil Morty would've meant more relationship development for the C-137s.

Evil Morty's backstory also didn't reveal much about him. I mean--yeah, we all figured that he had an abusive Rick and got fed up. The fact that he had a "regular" Rick instead of a deranged lunatic does make a point about the banality of abuse. Monsters aren't always raving maniacs who torture people in their basements. Ordinary people can wear you down with a slow drip of toxicity and neglect.

I enjoyed this episode, and Evil Morty's return was exciting, but cramming the series' two biggest antagonists and storylines into twenty minutes was a little overwhelming. New plot developments kept showing up, too: Rick found Prime! Prime's various lairs! Omega device! I would've preferred a two-parter.

I'll admit that if you told me that we'd see Evil Morty and Rick Prime in the same shot, I never would have believed you, but here we are.

On that note, Prime's characterization was perfect. No attempt at a cutesy, sad backstory; he's a laughing monster until the end. And is it really the end? He has regeneration abilities, but C-137 acts like he's dead and even gives up the search. This leaves us with a few options:

C-137 killed him.

Prime fooled C-137 into thinking that he's dead when he isn't.

C-137's keeping him alive for later use.

Hopefully, this is more complicated than it looks because I'll be disappointed if this is the end of Prime. He's a brilliant reflection of C-137: the Rick he'd be without his tiny shred of humanity.

And Prime's a maniac, but he tells C-137 the truth. Rick broke into Prime's house. He pretended he belonged with this group of strangers. He latched on to Prime's grandson because he never had his own. His brutal, violent streak never went away no matter how long he tried to play house.

Prime says "Admit it! You would have been me!" In season three and parts of season four, Rick was close. His love for his family--love that he pretended he didn't have--and desire for their approval just barely pulled him back. But what kept that spark alive? How close was he to becoming a cold, unfeeling shell?

In the end, C-137's not satisfied after he destroys Prime--and weirdly, I'm not satisfied, either. Beating Prime to an unrecognizable pulp doesn't bring Rick's original family back. It doesn't erase the atrocities that Rick's committed. It doesn't make his grief go away. It doesn't change the fact that Rick teetered on the edge of turning into the monster that he despised.

What's more satisfying is that Rick didn't turn out like Prime. His Morty doesn't give two shits about Prime, but he loves him. He hugs him in relief (come on, Rick, hug him back already!), cries out "Rick? Rick!" and shakes his body when he thinks he's dead, and talks excitedly as they return home.

Rick's going to therapy, which Prime would have mocked. He went from having nobody to living with FIVE kids if you count Morty and Summer. Even he and his Jerry are pretty tight.

Rick knows this, but he still feels empty all the time. Vengeance doesn't work, drinking doesn't work...wouldn't it be easier if he just switched off his humanity and laughed at everything, even his own death?

But now that he knows how it feels to be loved, especially by his hypothetical grandson, I think he'll always find himself at the Smiths' doorstep.

[hanafubukki]

So I'm just looking at Lilia in his dorm uniform and imagining pulling his shirt open and creasing his chest, as one does, and then I'm thinking he needs to get plainer shorts so it's easier to slip a hand into them/slip them off, and then I went back to his shirt and his harnesses and they remind me of the things that hold guns and I was like---crime boss Lilia-!

He's an old man with old money but a Youthful face. Playful and technology literate, his age doesn't show when he makes an impromptu stop at a purikura machine. He's ready for retirement soon. He's been in the business too long, starting early and kept going while waiting for an heir. But Malleus is about ready to take over. Silver and Sebek are skilled enough to stay safe and assist their boss. He's so ready to be done. Should he get away from it all and move to a small cottage in the middle of nowhere? Get back to using the skills he had to make use of while growing up on the streets, before the previous boss picked him up? Enjoy the quietness and serenity away from the city he'd filled with bloodshed? Or should he just stay? Be close to his family, lend a helping hand if needed? To be spoiled by them? To still have access to his games and arcades and purikura machines? He finds that he can't make the by himself after he meets you.

Like most people, you don't know who he really is. (You don't know how old he actually is). You're sweet, maybe a little naive, but his heart beats for you. He wants to hold you and protect you and stay with you for the rest of his days. Is he too old for more children? For biological children? And should he tell you of who he is? Of what he used to do and what his sons, who have started to dote on you, now do? But he knows for sure, he will not hesitate if there ever is a time for him to hold your face to his chest, to shield your vision from the bodies falling to the ground after he's shot them down for trying to take you from him.

(And what if this is a mixed modern au? As in its still twisted wonderland with fae and beastmen, but putting all of that into a modern setting. Fae mafia <3)

- Fake Date Sebek anon

Hello Fake Date Sebek Anonie 🌺💚🌷

Not going to lie Anonie, but you had me for a second in the first part of this ask.🤣😆

I went from “Oh? Have I been blessed with smut?” to “Crime Boss Lilia?!?! HELL YEAH” 🤣💞

Ahhhh I’m squealing in bed. This is so??? Hot??? God the image?? Ahhhhh Lilia in a suit?? With those harnesses that hides hidden guns and knives. Pleasssee I’m ready to just combust. *shaking you Anonie*

Summary: Mafia x Flower Shop AU: In which, Lilia meets the local flower shop owner.

Lilia was an orphan, taken from the streets, raised to protect his Masters whom he lost because he was ordered to protect their child.

Lilia then takes over as the boss and raises Malleus as the heir. At one point, he picks up Silver because he was an orphan who lost his parents due to crossfire between rivals and Silver reminds him of himself and Malleus when he was young. Then Sebek joins, the grandson of an old comrade.

Time passes as it always does even amongst the fae, and soon, Malleus will be taking his spot. He, Silver, and Sebek have grown and can protect each other without Lilia having to worry.

He can retire, but what then? Where does he go? Does he want to stay? Or leave? He knows his boys would love for him to stay, so would he, he won’t deny that. Or should he go somewhere quiet and peaceful, a contradiction to how he has lived all these centuries.

He meets you by chance one day, and he doesn’t know what to do anymore. It was by a stroke of luck when he ducked into the flower shop to get some for the office. To cover up the stench of iron and give some color to the place.

You had recommended him some lavender with a bundle of lily of the valley. He tried not to smile at your not so hidden way of saying he needed sleep nor the irony of flowers close to his name.

But something always drew him back to you and this shop close by the arcade he frequents.

It comes to the point that he has more flowers at home than is needed and Malleus’ smirk is getting to him.

So he asks you out on a date, it goes from one date to two to many more.

When he realizes he has feelings for you, he was surprised.

Well fuck, an old bat can still learn new tricks huh?

What makes it all so seamless is the way you incorporate so easily into their lives.

You meet Malleus one day when curiosity got the better of him and he wanted to see who had Lilia giddily walking around with a light in his eyes only a select few see. Malleus conveniently meets you at a cafe. While you two talk about Lilia, Malleus can’t help the smile that graces his lips. Clearly, you are as taken with him as he with you.

Eventually you meet Silver and Sebek, who was sent to you by Malleus but you didn’t know that, they were a rather interesting pair.

Silver asking for more lavender and lilly of the valley flowers. His smile and quiet nature reminds you of Lilia. His graceful movements that of Malleus. His kind nature belies his strength as he easily and efficiently helps you gather materials and organize them.

Sebek is the opposite of Silver in many ways but yet the same. He’s loud and proud. Something you never criticize him for. Behind this demeanor, he’s soft and kind in his own way. Always helping you around the shop with bags of soil and pots that needed moving while Silver manned the cash register.

You couldn’t help the fond giggle. They were Lilia’s boys alright.

You fit perfectly into their lives and Lilia wouldn’t have it any other way.

But Lilia has enemies, many of them in fact, so it was only time they would find you and try and take you away.

They didn’t notice him.

Foolishly thought you were alone.

Imbeciles.

Your eyes are covered by the time the first body falls on the floor.

Lilia tilts his head, kisses you on the forehead before whispering, “Shh, it’ll be alright beloved.”

Your trembling hands that had grasped his shirt relaxes slightly as you fully lean into him. This trust you give him so willingly and without doubt has him slightly nuzzling into you before eyes sharpen at the pawns before him.

Possessiveness.

Protection.

His.

Is all those before him register before crimson blood splatters the area, one by one.

Lilia will always be ready to take up his arms to protect his loved ones.

Let the blood stained floors be a message to those who seek his wrath and try to take what is his.

Yes, I made this into a flower shop x fae mafia au. I’m weak okay, I love the softness and the violence and the symbolisms 🥹💞

I don’t know why but ahhh this is hitting me in all the right spots. Just?? The fierceness, the blood, the gentle hand, and the comfort?? The potentialllll…someone hit me with a bat! Ahhhhh *rolls around in bed*

[sunrise-imagines]

I need adult Finn AND farmworld Finn to kiss me on the mouth immediately

Yayyy my first poly fic! And same omg. Hope you enjoy!

Poly! Adult Finn x Reader x Farmworld Finn Relationship Headcanons

• Although they’re technically the same person, Finn and FW Finn are very different, especially in personality, so making a relationship with the both of them work will be difficult.

• First hurdle to get over is what to call them, since they have the same name and all. Both of them think that they should be the main “Finn”, but you manage to find a compromise with FW Finn going by his full name “Finnian”.

• Both of them are obviously in love with you, but as for how they feel about each other, it’s more of mutual respect/brotherly kind of affection, like Finn had with Fern. They’re able to understand each other on a different level, practically able to read each other’s minds, which can be both endearing and creepy at times.

• Finnian does most of the cooking, as Finn doesn’t know how to make anything but meatloaf.

• Finn is a blanket hog so you have to get really close to him while you sleep, which isn’t too bad as he’s also a human heater. Luckily Finnian prefers to sleep without a blanket, as he’s used to cooler temperatures (we can all guess why)

• It takes Finnian a while to introduce you both to his kids, as he isn’t sure of how to approach the topic of having two partners, let alone one of them being an alternate version of himself. Eventually he introduces you as his girlfriend/boyfriend/partner and Finn as his long lost brother. Jay knows the true nature of your relationship, but he told him to keep it a secret from his younger siblings for now, until they’re a little older.

• Finn definitely cried when he first met FW Jake, who immediately waddled over to sit in his lap.

• You like to take baths together, as both of them have a habit of forgetting to take care of themselves for long periods of time (stinky boys). Both of them love it when you wash their hair.

• They both love the outdoors so expect Finn to take all of you adventuring together. Finnian is a lot less excited about combat, but he’s ready and willing to defend you if need be.

• They take turns kissing you one after the other, Finn usually initiating first with Finnian following up after him.

• Finn is much more able to be emotionally available and talk things through with you when you’re upset, and it’s not that Finnian doesn’t care about you, he does. He’s just still reeling with his own emotional issues and he doesn’t know what to say. He’s always there if you need someone to just hold you though.

• They bicker a lot over what they think is best for you, and you have to remind them that while you love them both dearly, you’re your own person who can make decisions for themself. They both sulk a bit but in the end they apologize and make up.

• Yeah you’re just one big chaotic family and it’s great that you have two men who are willing to go to hell and back for you <3

[rainbowchaox]

Why Pissa Works: Qsmp Analysis Essay

This is more of an analysis of the relationship in general and why it’s so important to understanding both Missa and Phil as characters. And it’s a disgrace if you ignore their relationship as it’s very important to their characters. I already delved into them as characters but I miss them and therefore I want to dissect the dynamic in this essay. And why it works so well. This time I am having some help from friends to give me their thoughts on them as well. As they are as “normal” about them like me.

At the start no one really knew what sort of longing and pining and loyalty that would spawn from what is practically a random lottery. Missa and Phil being together was fate. I think no other pairing would have clicked so well for Missa or Phil. They were sorta destined to be together to be husband’s. But no one could have guessed how important they would be to each other. No one would have guessed how important this random lottery would be.

When they were paired. They immediately clicked. They immediately joked and laughed. They had fun together. And that was the spark for their relationship to blossom from. They were THE couple. Everyone was jealous of them. They were disgustingly happy. And there was always a GREAT something between them from Day 1. There’s reasons why Chayanne and eventually Tallulah are so protective over their marriage. But even then, they were just cute. They didn’t have the extra something that changed us for the better and the worse. What really made Pissa so special. Until……

The four months of utter pain. Of yearning. Of everyone accepting that things might be over before things really could blossom. But it wasn’t the end for someone. It never was the end for Phil. Time is different for someone touched by death. “Phil is patient and doesn’t take breaks between meetings as difficulties. Their relationship will never sour. When Missa is there, he picks up where they left off.” an excerpt from my talks with Ash. And she is completely correct. I have mentioned this plenty of times in my previous essays about their characters. But Phil doesn’t mind he has to wait for Missa. Time passes differently for immortals. But also Missa just being Missa has long acquired his loyalty. Something hard to get but harder to lose.

And it’s because of Phil utter loyalty and willingness to wait that their dynamic really was able to bloom. Missa took his heart. The less Phil can do is wait. Because when Missa does Phil always has so much fun with him. Missa always reminds Phil why he stays loyal to him. Missa is JUST so good. Phil can see that.

Phil always had valid reason to move on from Missa especially during the four months. No one knew he would return. And he almost gave up hope by the end. But throughout the four months he mentioned him, he looked at skulls all sad, and he yearned for him. And when he came back? He was so happy. He never blamed Missa but you can tell he wants to spend time with him more. You can tell he missed him. You can miss someone being gone and not hate him. He just missed his husband.

“Missa also rolls with the punches a lot, when Phil says there's a new kid, Missa takes that and immediately bonds with Tallulah, when something crazy happens, Missa is there to eventually bring a smile to his family faces. They both don't get hung up on the craziness in between.” As quoted directly from my friend Ash. She is right. This right here is what changed the pissa dynamic for the better. Phil notices things and he noticed how kind and wonderful Missa is. Phil remembers others kindness.

Missa is always on his family side. Phil can depend on him always. So of course he is also Tallulah father. Missa was happy to take that responsibility. Missa is there to bring a smile to his family even in the rainiest of days. He is there when they need time to just enjoy living instead of surviving. Which is addicting to a man that only knew how to survive. Theres reasons why Phil fell for Missa.

Phil doesn’t verbalize his emotions. He is always a show not tell type of character. But it’s clear to anyone he adores missa. He stares at skulls missing him. He has his obession with giant Missa. He always has a place for Missa in his home. He collects Missa art like shinnies. He is so darn possessive of him. He loves Missa so much and it’s clear through his actions.

Missa also brings him great comfort in general. Missa is similar to him in the ways that matter but his complete opposite in other ways. Phil is emotionally repressed while Missa emotions bleed out like ink. Phil is skilled in fighting and surviving while Missa is best at music and art. Not skills you really need to survive.

So they always had this sweet dynamic and it grew with patience, with love, and a healthy dose of yearning on both sides. Enjoying each other when they are able. Soaking each other affection and love. But then Purgatory happened.

And they got spilt up. And this caused both to realize they just didn’t love each other. But they needed each other. Flaws and all. And that they definitely couldn’t harm each other. That they always been each other homes. They needed to separate to realize how important the other is. They both had their realizations. And post-purgatory we did see an uptick in very affectionate pissa.

And it was beautiful to see how their relationship has grown. But then Prison happened. And they fully showed everyone how much they care about each other. Phil and the kids just soaking Missa being present. Them being so happy despite in actual prison. Phil being possessive over Missa. Phil and Missa finally kissing (numerous times).

Purgatory may have made them realize they needed each other but prison made them realize they wanted each other. They wanted to be a family. They wanted to be happy. And it made both of them selfish. Which was they always sorta wanted.

They say I love you with every glance. They say I love you with every tired cuddle. They say I love you with every smile. They say I love you when they are watching the kids sleep. They say I love you protecting each other. They say I love you finally letting the others see them vulnerable. They don’t need to use words. They know they love each other. And that’s beautiful. No wonder why we are so “normal” about their sweet relationship.

[runninriot]

written for @steddie-week day 4

and the @steddiesongfics july prompt

Easy

prompts: trade, body swap & song: Nik Kershaw (Wouldn't It Be Good) | wc: ~1.2k | rated t | cw: recreational drug use | tags: steve has a bad relationship with his parents, good uncle wayne appreciation, repressed feelings, steve has a crush on eddie, friends to lovers | also on ao3

They’re lying on Eddie’s floor, sharing a joint like they often do. Hanging out, just the two of them, enjoying each other’s company.

Eddie’s been rambling for the past ten minutes, talks about how he’d like to swap bodies with Steve for a day, how he’d want to experience a day in Steve’s life first-hand.

   “Why the hell would you want that?”

   “You got it easy,” Eddie says matter-of-factly and Steve snorts at this very untrue claim.

   “Yeah right, I wish.”

   “What could possibly make Mr popular rich boy’s life hard, huh?” Eddie teases and Steve knows he doesn’t mean it in a hurtful way but it still stings.

   “You don’t know a thing bout it,” he answers simply, before snatching the joint from Eddie’s fingers and taking a long drag.

Steve doesn’t want to open up that box. He came here to forget, not to talk about what’s keeping him up at night.

   “So? Tell me then. I wanna know. Because- and don’t take this the wrong way, Stevie – but I really can’t see it. I mean, look at me. I’m certified trailer trash. I know what it’s like to live on nothing but toast and peanut butter for weeks because the washing machine broke and the next pay check isn’t yet due.” Eddie laughs but Steve can’t find it in him to join in on it.

He hates when Eddie calls himself that, trailer trash. As if living in a trailer park makes him less of a person. It doesn’t! It just means that Eddie and his uncle are less fortunate than others.

Steve didn’t do shit to earn the comfort of growing up in a big house, was just... lucky to be born into the Harrington family.

Wayne on the other hand is doing his best, is giving his all to make their life as good as possible.

Steve envies that.

Wayne is an honest and hard-working man, and even if Eddie likes to joke around and belittle himself for their situation, Steve knows he cherishes everything Wayne has done for him. Steve knows Eddie will do everything to make him proud. To repay him for taking him in when he needed a place to stay. For always being there for him, for supporting him. For loving him unconditionally.

They might not have much but they have each other. It’s something Steve would trade everything he owns for without hesitation.

In a heartbeat, he’d give up his inheritance for a relationship with his parents that is as respectful and loving as the one between Eddie and his uncle.

Because Steve might have a nice car, a pool in the backyard, and a name that can open doors for him but- at home, he feels lonely, unloved. He’s a failure, his father keeps reminding him. And worst of all, he’s afraid to be his true self around them because they’d never accept it, would never understand.

   “Steve? You with me?” Eddie pushes himself up on one arm, his face hovering over Steve’s. “Hey, did I say something wrong? I didn’t mean to-“

   “Nah, you’re good. Just got a little lost in my thoughts.” Steve offers a weak smile but he can sense that Eddie doesn’t buy it.

He knows him too well.

Has this annoying ability to read Steve like an open book.

It’s like he can see right through him, can see right through Steve’s little white lies whenever he tries to talk himself out of something.

There’s only one thing Eddie doesn’t know about him and never will. It’s Steve’s best kept secret; not even Robin knows. Because he can’t risk his parents finding out about it.

If Eddie knew, maybe he’d understand and take back what he said earlier because yeah, sure, Steve’s life might seem easy from an outsider’s point of view, someone who only sees the shiny exterior of his golden cage.

It’s a false illusion, because contrary to Steve, Eddie does not have to hide a certain part of himself out of fear of the consequences.

Wayne loves him regardless, accepts all of him. Wayne knows, and he’d put up a fight with anyone who doesn’t agree with Eddie’s... choices.

Steve’s father would kill him if he ever found out that his son is-

   “Alriiight, enough for you!” Eddie sits up and reaches for the joint that’s slowly burning down in Steve’s hand.

Their fingers brush and it feels like the world stops for a second. Steve finds Eddie’s gaze, can’t look away, slowly loses himself in Eddie’s dark brown eyes. The air is crackling between them and Steve feels tiny electric shocks prickle on his skin when Eddie lifts his free hand and cups his face.

The hand doesn’t linger, unfortunately, moves up his temple to brush a strand of hair back from Steve’s forehead. It’s a kind gesture and Steve wishes he could lean into the gentle touch.

But he can’t. He can’t let the wall crumble because Eddie would instantly know what it means.

Would know that, behind layers of pretentious confidence, Steve hides this vulnerable part of himself.

That there, locked away in his fragile heart, burns a small flame. A flame he tried to smother, that keeps flickering unrelenting.

Because every time Eddie looks at him, every time he smiles, every time they touch – it’s like gasoline to the flame, setting his insides ablaze.

Eddie’s hand retreats but the sensation on Steve’s face remains, hot and red. He knows he’s blushing, hopes he can blame it on the buzz from the weed.

   “Sometimes I wish-“ Steve realises too late that he said it out loud.

   “Wish what?” Eddie asks, curiously waiting for Steve to continue.

   “Sometimes I wish things were different.”

   “What would you change?”

    This right here, Steve thinks. You being so close but not close enough.

   “I’d change who I am.”

   “Who would you want to be, if you could choose?”

    Yours.

   “I’d want to be someone who’s brave.”

   “Pff, you’re literally the bravest person I know.” Eddie scoffs affectionately.

   “If I’m so brave, then why I am so scared?” Steve knows it’s more than he should confess, too much for Eddie not to keep digging.

   “Scared of what?” Eddie looks at him like he’s searching for the answer in Steve’s eyes, intense and pensive. And then he smiles, bright and warm and fond in a way that makes Steve’s heart stutter.

Inside him, the flame flares up, spreads heat from his heart through his veins and Steve knows, in that moment, this might be his only chance.

   “Scared of my feelings for you.”

Eddie kisses him and suddenly, everything does seem easy.

Kissing Eddie back is easy.

Leaning into his touch and holding him tight is easy.

Loving Eddie is easy.

Because it feels right.

It doesn’t matter what his parents will think of him if they know – this is right and it’s all he wants.

This is who he is underneath.

This is who he wants to be, openly and unafraid.

   “You don’t have to change, Stevie. You don't have to be anyone else. I love you just the way you are.”

And that, Steve realises, is more than enough.