#pull your head out of your ass and go TALK to trans people other than your rich circle of teens at your GSA

[mycological-mariner]

First day of Pride and I just want to shine a light on all the trans people who are unable to transition, especially those who aren’t fresh faced university grads. Those who don’t live in a supportive or even just accepting home or community. Those who aren’t well off, those who aren’t good at or popular enough to crowd fund. Those who can’t afford transitioning. Those who can’t even transition socially or need to stay in the closet for your safety. Those who rely on benefits or unforgiving jobs to just pay the bills. Having to hear day in and day out you’re just GNC, that your pre-transition body is “ugly” and the ways you can express your gender are “cringe.” Every trans person who’s been told they aren’t “trying hard enough”. Those trans people who won’t even get to imagine transitioning for years.

I see you. I love you. You’re so undervalued and under appreciated in a world where being a white, well off 20 year old on HRT and getting surgery is more common to see than people who work full time and just don’t have that privilege. It sucks, so much. But you are loved and you are seen.

Happy Pride Month to trans people who aren’t where they want to be. The world is better with you in it. We all need each other.

[queerheadcanoncentral]

ok hear me out. james wilson dating a transgender man for the first time and he kinda doesn’t know what to do to please someone who is ftm so he just lets them take the lead. he’s not super educated on this kind of thing but he’s super ready to learn etc. basically he’s just really pathetic and desperate to make his partner feel good. also he gets off on being called a good boy. i rest my case.

Combining this ask with a different ask i got:

"wilson smut hcs with a top reader? I'm transmasc as well so it would be great if it could be read as a strap-on and not necessarily a flesh and blood penjs"

Tags: smut, just pure smut, strap on, top trans masc reader, oral (reader recieving), bottom james wilson, no use of y/n.

Minors and fems not welcome.

—⁠☆—⁠☆—⁠☆—⁠☆—⁠☆—⁠☆—⁠☆—⁠☆—⁠☆—⁠☆—⁠☆—⁠☆—

You were the first guy that Wilson realised he had feelings for and when you guys started dating he was awkward about all of his firsts with you, first date, first kiss.

So when one evening the two of you were making out and you slipped a hand down to his crotch and palmed him through his jeans, he froze.

“oh! I'm sorry, we don't have go any further if you're not comf-” you were worried that you'd done something wrong but he was quick to reassure you. “no, no! I want to, trust me, I really want to but- It's just that, I've never done this with a guy before and I don't know how to make you feel good.”

You were very horny and you could tell that he was too, his chest rose and fell heavily, his lips were swollen and their redness matched his cheeks, you just wanted to keep going. You leaned into him, your hand sliding from his waist to his lower hip, your fingers on the side of his ass. “I can show you” you said with a comforting yet seductive smile. That just made Wilson's blood shot right down to his cock, and he swallowed thickly “yes, yes please”.

Within a second that the words left his mouth your lips were on his. It was rougher than any kiss the two of you have shared before, more full of passion and teeth. James hands went to tangle up in your hair and one of yours went to his ass while the other to support his back as you slowly lowered him to your bed. You sloted a knee between his legs, keeping him in place and started kissing his jawline, then his neck leaving wet kisses and red bite marks to which he responded with soft whimpers and moaned at the harsher bites. You reached his sweater collar and pushed up at the lower hem signaling him to take it of. He did as he was ordered and you continued to shower him with pleasure as you went lower and lower.

Once you were satisfied, with the amount of hickeys that now littered his entire upper body (and with how hard his dick grew), you pulled back and with a stern voice you ordered “get on your knees”.

He immediately scrambled to the ground next to the bed and infront of you. “Take them off” you said as you began to pull out the end of your belt from the belt loops. He took over and undid your belt, then zipper and pulled off your jeans and underwear together in an effort to save some time.

“oh.” he said, a bit surprised. “Don't tell me you didn't know I was trans” you responded, probably equally as surprised as him. “How was I supposed know? You never told me.” “Yeah, but when I talk about my childhood I said how people referred to me as a girl, and I keep my testosterone in the fridge and my needles in the bathroom… wait did you think that I'm some sort of a junkie or a doser?” “I didn't really think, I assumed that you were just a regular guy with a testosterone deficiency.” “Kind of am. Can definitely fuck your brains out like one.”

While saying the last sentence you ran your hand through his hair and punctuated it by pulling down on it, which tillted his chin up slightly and his lips parted with an involuntary moan. That send tingles down Wilsons spine and another wave of blood down to his cock. You nudged his head towards your core a bit “How do I-” “Just lick and suck”. Still unsure of what to do he licked his lips and put them on the tip of your t-dick, and you gave him an encouraging low hum “Mm, good boy. That's it”. That took some of the pressure off and, now more confidently, he went lower and started licking at your entrance. At first shallow but when you moaned he started thrusting his tounge deeper and deeper. After a few minutes you were both a mess, you with your mouth hanging open moaning and whimpering constantly, with one hand gripping James's hair, the other gripping the sheets beneath you; him with your juices all over the bottom half of his face. Feeling that you were close you pulled him off of you and marvelled at the sight beneath you. He looked beautiful like that, out of breath, his lips red and puffy and the lust behind his eyes. You could look at him like that for hours but, you see him shifting around trying to get his cock some friction.

“Take your clothes off. Get on the bed, face up”. He did as he was told and in the meantime you took off your shirt and reached into the drawer of your nightstand. He was to busy getting into his position that didn't see what you pulled out and only looked back at you when he heard a click and he saw you standing there with a 7 inch strap on. His head was spinning with anticipation and he thought to himself “this is what heaven must look like. The hottest man he's ever seen about to fuck him senseless”.

“Good boy. So obedient and ready to please” you praised him while getting on the bed and inseting yourself between his legs. Once you got in the position you uncapped the bottle of lube in your hand and poured some on your hand. First you lathered yourself up, then you slicked James's hole up. You pressed in one finger to see how stretched he is and you were quite surprised to find that he was already pretty loose. You figured that he must've played with himself before coming over to your place. You took out the finger and line the head of the dildo with his hole. You place one hand on his hip and rub small circles into it “just relax, take a deep breath” you reassure him.

As he does so and exhales you push yourself pass the ring of muscles. You can feel that he's tight by the resistance but you continue to ease into him. You stop once you're all the way in and wait for James to adapt to the size. He can feel the slight burn and it feels so good. His eyes roll to the back of his head, his mouth falls open and a low almost gutteral moan escapes from deep within him.

Once you feel him adjust you start moving again. First you go slow, just enjoying the way your boyfriend moans and the way the built in grinder brushes against your clit. After a few minutes Wilson starts to rock his hips into you “faster please”, he whimpers. “Whatever you need baby” you anwser doing as he says. You start of just a bit faster but, soon it isn't enough and you are pounding into him relentlessly. His mouth is permanently open now and the air is filled with strings of his curses and moans and your name along with wet slapping sounds and your own moans and grunts and praises flying his way, “such a good boy. You're being so good for me. That's it, you take me so well”. You're groping his behind and planting wet kisses to his neck, his legs are locked around your hips, his heels digging into your ass and his nails into your back. You can feel yourself at the edge now and if the amount of pre that is coming out of his dick is anything to go by, so is he. “do you want to make me feel good? I bet you do” “yes, yes i do” “than come with me” with that you took him in your palm and stroked him fast and tight. He thought he died. His heart was beating so hard it was going to jump out of his chest, all of his muscles contracted and started to spasm, his eyelids shut close and his back arched. All he could feel was your dildo inside of him, your hand on his cock, his cum on his stomach and your mouth on his nipple. All he could hear was his ear shattering moan. All he could smell was both of your juices combined. All he could taste was you on his tongue. If liking all of that and loving you ment that he was doomed for eternal damnation, he will set fire to himself to experience this forever. You weren't far behind and with a couple of thrusts you came and you pushed yourself deeper then even Wilson has ever been.

It took you a while to come down from your high and when you came to you pulled yourself out of your boyfriend and slumped down on his chest. His hands absentmindedly wrapped around you and you hugged him back. It took another three minutes for James to say anything, and the first thing he said was “That was… yeah.” You laughed at that and nuzzled your face into his chest “Yeah, that was”. Your voice was rough just like his. With that you got up and walked away, you came back with two glasses of water, a damp wash cloth and without the strap on. You handed him a glass and set the other one down then got to cleaning both of you up. He sat up just enough to have a sip and set the glass down.

Once you finished you threw the wash cloth somewhere near the laundry basket, took a sip of water and slid both of you under the comforter. You were to tired to take a shower and James didn't seem to mind either. “That was amazing” he finally said. You chuckled and pulled him in closer, his head on your chest, you rubbed circles into his back and whispered praises and sweet nothings into his ear while pressing soft kisses to the top of his head as punctuation “You did so good. You were so good to me. That was amazing. I love you. I'm so lucky to have you.”

Maybe you were doing to much with these praises in this context but you didn't care much about that, you just cared that you made your boyfriend happy and that he fell asleep knowing that he is loved.

This is my first time writing smut so sorry if it's kind of bad.

[arkhamjack]

Thank you everyone for the reblogs on my "how some of the fandom sees wolfwood vs how I see him" lol I wanted to continue the conversation bc I am very annoying about this stuff and it grosses me out bc I am sensitive or whatever but um yeah 🤓

It's pretty long so TL;DR stop being weird about Wolfwood thanks 👍

I'll talking about objectification, hypersexualisation, and prejudice so a warning I guess --->

The Gaze has been working overtime on Wolfwood's ass (and tits) and it's making me a little nuts. This is not to say his character cannot be presented in a sexy way, or that he cannot perform sexuality without being problematic, it's just... ask yourself: why.

It can be subconscious, you might not even notice it, but media tropes have a way of worming into people's brains to be regurgitated into fan art, especially if the character presents or is coded marginalised in a way you are not. (I do it too!)

It starts from young. I had an adult call me a "hot head Latina" as a child LMAO (I am not even Latin)

Characters and actors that looked like me were worked into typically these roles - If feminine, desired, sexy but crazy, dangerous. If masculine, similarly sexual, either hot or ugly, suspicious.

I feel silly and attention-seeking for speaking up about this kind of stuff, especially as I feel I'm not in a place to cry 'racism' specifically because I'm more 'ethnic' than POC.

I'm a Balkan mongrel - Greek, bits from Turkey, Albania, and fuck knows what else. I've always kept my head down about people being weird to me but it comes to a point like the point of a classmate comparing my hair to an animal's, where I feel I gotta go "ok yeah lets unpack that."

Now about Wolfwood, he's our classic racially/ethnically ambiguous smoky sexy guy. Particularly in the 98 anime, he's pretty bosomy. He's a struggler - swindling Gunsmoke with his charm and portable confessional. This swindler trope, I've observed, tends to go hand in hand with 'suspicious immigrant out for your money'. Again, maybe I've pulled that out my ass and I'm being oversensitive, but I notice things. Tastes left in my mouth. Anyway. Brings to mind the time some other classmate jokingly called me a 'hustler' for *checks notes* making sure my work is submitted on time.??

Now on the subject of NSFW fanart... oh boy I am so uncomfy writing this... I rarely see him depicted.. receiving. You can place the issues here pretty easily. Give him a break. Please. Also I did note this on my original post and also completely my own opinion but PLEASE that man is not bigger than Vash, and I don't mean like not taller, like, thiccer. Calm the fuck down.

I hate having to write this bc it makes me uncomfy and reflects my own experiences of objectification by other people which sounds all very "oh noo its sooo hard being attractive :'((" but I trust y'all smart enough to see where I'm coming from.

The gaze. Othering. Marginalised masculinity (not to mention my intersecting trans identity thats a whole other unrelated convo). Hypersexualisation. Objectification.

But back to Wolfwood!! - are these tropes perpetuated by the original creator? Personally, I don't think so. (Wolfwood's design is based off a Japanese guy btw - musician Tortoise Matsumoto) The 98 anime? Maybe?? Am I reading too much into it? It's hard not to - naturally I'll latch onto the ambiguous guy and go "alright let's see how they do this" so naturally certain things stand out to me.

But when some of that fanart starts rolling out ... Jesus Christ ... MY EYES

On the flipside, I've seen great fanart out there! And I've seen quite a few Latino headcanons for Wolfwood too!(like I mentioned before I am not Latin, I am also not American in general I am a filthy freak Australian with our own colonial racist histories and intricacies) (There is also Latin diaspora here but I don't wanna speak for anyone aaaah)

I'd like to think most of the fandom is cool about him. But um. Yeah.

I said what I said but if I did say anything out of line I am so sorry and PLEASE let me know - I am using my own experiences as reference and acknowledge the intricacies my own privilege

Yap session over 👍

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

All Shook Up

TW biphobia. It's a serious problem even today, in our own community and it needs to be addressed that bisexuality isn't going anywhere that it's not less than any other sexuality. EDIT: It does end happy

A/N: Now, I know that Gareth would probably never be like that, but sometimes it's the person you least expect. The best thing about Eddie's sexuality not being decided is that we can make it whatever we want to be, whether it's gay Eddie, bisexual Eddie, Pansexual Eddie, transfem!Eddie, trans male Eddie, asexual Eddie, aromantic Eddie, non binary Eddie and it would all still be equally queer. I appreciate every queer Eddie headcanon, but most particularly, I'm appreciating bi Eddie today on the 25th anniversary of the bi flag being created.

Gareth was his best friend in the world, but the way he was looking at him was hard to describe because he always scowled. Eddie sighed and rolled his eyes.

"What?" Eddie asked.

"You're bisexual?" Gareth scoffed.

"Yes, that's what I just said," Eddie said. "Is there a problem?"

"Man, that's not a real thing," Gareth said softly.

"Pardon?" Eddie asked.

"You're just confused. You've gotten all shook up lately, which is understandable. It's perfectly fine to question yourself. Either you're just confused about how you're feeling or you're trying to deny the fact that you're gay," Gareth said.

"So, it has to be one or the other? It can't be both?" Eddie scowled.

"It's just bullshit that people made up to experiment with people like us," he replied.

"So, you've one bad experience with a guy, and you've decided that my sexuality doesn't exist?! Tell me how the fuck that makes sense!" Eddie yelled.

"Because it doesn't exist! I'm starting to wonder if you just came here to fuck with me and I thought you of all people would never do that!" Gareth hissed.

"Bisexual people exist, Gareth!" Eddie exclaimed. "David Bowie for one. Explain that! I'm sure there are other people, but I can't think of any right now!"

He thought of Steve, the reason he realized he was bisexual in the first place. He wasn't going to out Steve, though.

"Man, fuck off!" Gareth yelled.

"You know, I came here because I thought that you of all people would understand and that you would get what it's like to be different. Man, you're just as hateful and judgemental as the homophobes out in the world, except it's a thousand times worse because you're being hateful towards your own kind. I'm bisexual and I'm just as queer as you are. People like us we are held to a higher standard to be more understanding and sympathetic because we know what it's like to be hated for who we are. But to turn around and spew the same hatred and misunderstanding towards your fellow comrade. . .it's fucked up," Eddie said. "You broke my heart, man. Call me when you get your head out of your ass."

He stormed out of Gareth's house and into the pouring rain. He let it wash over him for a moment before climbing into his van and driving off. Eddie wasn't sure where he was going, but he was driving for a while when he realized he was heading towards Steve’s house. He's spending time with Robin. It was their designated day to hang out, Eddie assumed it was to talk about their crushes. Eddie scowled as he thought about the guy that Steve had been talking about, who honestly sounded a lot like Eddie. He shook his head. No, it wasn't just Steve he needed to see. It was Robin, too. He pulled into Steve’s driveway and walked up to the door. He paused for a moment before knocking on the door. A moment later, the door opened, and Steve stood there.

"Eddie - "

To his embarrassment, Eddie burst into tears at the sight of him and threw himself into his arms.

"I thought he would understand," Eddie sobbed into his neck.

Steve pulled him inside, closing the door and holding him tightly.

"Eddie? What's wrong?" Steve asked.

"I'm and he - I just -," Eddie cried incoherently.

"Okay, how about you go upstairs and take off those wet clothes. I'll set some clothes outside the door, then you can come down and talk about it? Okay?" Steve said.

"Okay," Eddie said.

"I'll make hot cocoa!" Robin exclaimed from the doorway.

"With whipped cream and - ?" Eddie started to ask.

"Cinnamon!" Robin and Steve exclaimed.

Eddie smiled and went upstairs to the bathroom. A moment later, he came down wearing Steve’s clothes and toweling his hair off. He plopped down on the couch in the living room where Robin and Steve were waiting for him with mugs of hot cocoa. A box of tissues was placed on the coffee table. Eddie plopped down in the empty space between Robin and Steve. He assumed that spot was for him. He took a sip of hot chocolate and sat quietly for a minute, sniffling.

"I went to see Gareth to tell him because I figured that he would understand. That he would get it," Eddie said softly.

He had been hanging out with Robin and Steve so much that they started to get to know his friends, too. They both knew about Gareth and Jeff. God, he should have gone to Jeff. He couldn't, though, because he went out of town to visit family for the holidays.

"Tell him what?" Robin asked.

"Oh, right, you don't know because I haven't told you because I wanted to tell Gareth first," Eddie said, jumping up to start pacing. "You know, just because I realized later in life doesn't mean that I'm any less - ugh! I hate him."

"You're going to have to start clueing us in," Steve said.

"I'm real, right? I exist?" Eddie asked.

"As far as I know, you're not a figment of our imagination even though it does feel like that sometimes," Robin joked.

"Very funny, Robin," Eddie said, rolling his eyes, but he was smiling.

"What is this about, Eddie?" Steve asked.

"Recently, I've discovered something about myself that I didn't realize was always there," Eddie said and paused. "I'm bisexual."

"That's great!" Steve and Robin exclaimed.

"Yeah, I wish Gareth thought so. He apparently hates bisexuals," Eddie scowled.

"But he's gay," Steve said with wide eyes.

"How can he hate someone like him?!" Robin shrieked.

"Well, according to him bisexuality is something that people made up to experiment with gays and lesbians," Eddie said, rolling his eyes.

"That doesn't even make sense!" Robin shrieked.

"How can other queer people hate other queer people for their sexuality?!" Steve exclaimed.

"It's like - it's like - I don't know what it's like!" Robin exclaimed.

"This feels like a really fucked up math problem," Steve said and Robin scoffed in agreement.

Eddie squeezed their knees, laughing.

"I'm glad you guys are not on the same page as him," Eddie said.

"Well, it would be even weirder for me," Steve said, and Eddie laughed.

Eddie took a sip of his hot chocolate and grinned, not realizing that whipped cream was on his upper lip. Steve laughed.

"You've got something on your lip," he said.

Eddie started wiping in the wrong spot, and Steve laughed again.

"You missed. You know, I really want to get it for you but I don't want to use my hands. I figured that might be in poor taste considering your situation," Steve said.

"What about that huge nerd you have a crush on?" Eddie asked with wide eyes, and Robin laughed.

"Eddie," Steve grinned.

"Yeah?"

"You're the nerd," Steve said.

"Uh, well, then go for it, big boy," Eddie said. "Because you know, you're the reason that I realized I am bisexual."

Steve smiled at him and leaned forward to kiss him softly. He darted his tongue out and swiped the whipped cream off his lip. He pulled back, looking at Eddie fondly. Eddie set his cup down and threw himself into Steve’s arms. He snuggled into his side and buried his face into Steve’s neck.

"Perfect," he sighed. "I just wish - "

"I know, baby," Steve said and kissed his forehead.

Eddie grinned when he felt Robin burrow into his side.

"Do you want me to kick his ass?" Robin asked.

"Nah, let's just enjoy this moment," Eddie said.

"You know, you're not just important to me because you're important to Steve. You're my best friend too, Eddie," Robin said.

"Right back at ya," Eddie replied.

"What about that huge nerd you have a crush on?" Robin asked in a deep mocking tone, her body shaking with laughter.

"Stop it," Eddie blushed as he laughed.

"Eddie," she continued. "You're the nerd. Oh my God! I was glad I was here for that!"

"Fuck off!" Eddie giggled and they all laughed.

After that, Eddie spent most of his time with Robin and Steve as well as the other members of the party. He tried to hang out with Jeff and Frank, but it was hard to do it with Gareth around. Eddie didn't immediately start walking out when he was around. He did wait for an apology, but it never came, and it got harder to be around him. Jeff and Frank noticed immediately, especially when Eddie canceled Hellfire. It was Jeff who showed up at his door.

"Okay, what's going on between you and Gareth?" Jeff asked as soon as he sat down.

"I don't really want to talk about it, man," Eddie said, picking at a piece of thread on his pants.

"Something is going on, and Gareth refuses to talk about it. He scoffs and gets all defensive like he's hurt about something," Jeff said.

"I didn't fucking do anything wrong!" Eddie snapped, his eyes filling with tears.

"I'm not saying you did, but both of you are acting hurt by something that happened," Jeff said. "What happened?"

Eddie jumped up and started pacing. He stopped and turned away from Jeff. He wanted to tell Jeff, but he was afraid that he would lose him just like he lost Gareth. They're two different people, and Robin had accepted him immediately, so maybe Jeff will be different. Eddie turned around, crossing his arms.

"I'm bisexual," Eddie said.

Jeff stared at him before he slapped his knees.

"That's fucking fantastic. I'm glad you finally figured it out," Jeff said.

"Wait. What?" Eddie asked, blinking.

"Come on, I knew as soon as you started bringing Steve Harrington around," he said with a knowing grin. "It is Steve, right?"

"Yes," Eddie blushed.

"Okay, so what? Is it because Gareth has some sort of problem with Steve?" Jeff asked. "He's been making digs at him. Frank and I have been telling him to stop because we actually like Steve and Robin."

"He's got a problem with bisexuality," Eddie said stiffly. "He doesn't believe that being bisexual is a thing. He thinks it's an excuse to hide my 'real' sexuality."

"He actually said that to you?!" Jeff scowled.

"Yes," Eddie said bitterly.

"Oh, that asshole," he said. "I'm going to kill him."

Jeff jumped up and pulled Eddie into a hug, squeezing him tightly.

"I love you, man," Eddie said.

"I love you, too," Jeff said and pulled back. "Just give him some time. He'll come around. He has to, especially when Frank and I give him the cold shoulder."

"You don't have to do that," Eddie said.

"We support our friends," Jeff said. "We're in the same boat, just in different seats."

Eventually, Gareth did come around, and it was probably thanks to Dustin's meddling. He had been complaining a lot about how Hellfire had been disbanded and how no one would tell him what Gareth did. Finally, Dustin had grown desperate. He radioed Eddie, screeching about a code red and to meet him in the drama room. It was early in the morning when Eddie fell out of bed and started to quickly pull on his clothes. He looked down and saw that he had accidentally pulled on Steve’s polo. He looked over and found that Steve had pulled on one of his shirts. They didn't have time to worry about that and immediately left for the high school. They ran into the drama room, hearts racing.

"Wait! Goddamnit. . .no!" A voice called as the doors slammed behind them. "Fuck!"

Steve and Eddie reached out to open the doors, but they were locked. Suddenly, Gareth appeared over their shoulders.

"Yeah, I think they slid something through the handles. Assholes," Gareth muttered.

"Work out your goddamn issues!" Dustin screamed through the door.

"Henderson! You butthead!" Eddie yelled.

"Emerson," Steve glared at Gareth.

"Harrington," Gareth glared at him.

"Stop it," Eddie snapped and turned to Gareth. "We're stuck here so we might as well talk."

"I have nothing to say to you. You're clearly still in denial," Gareth snapped. "Thanks for turning Jeff and Frank against me."

Steve moved forward, but Eddie put a hand to his chest.

"That was all you, Gareth," Eddie said coldly.

"What do you want from me?" He asked. "I'm not going to change my mind."

"Because you're my best fucking friend and I love you! I want you to wake the hell up and realize that you're the one that's wrong here!" Eddie yelled at him. "I'm not going to apologize for being who I am!"

"So, I'm the one that's wrong. Why the hell can't it be you? Eddie Munson, king of the freaks, he can't admit when he's the one who's wrong?!" Gareth snapped.

"Yes, I can. I admitted I was wrong about Steve and Lucas, about jocks in particular. I've even been to Lucas's games," he said, and then he paused. "Do you remember when you came out to your family?"

"Yes," Gareth said, gritting his teeth.

"Do you remember when your grandmother said that you were going to burn in hell for being gay?" Eddie asked, and he nodded. "Well, you are your grandmother, and you're telling me that I'm going to burn in hell for being bisexual. That's what it feels like to me."

Gareth looked like he had been punched, and his mouth fell open. His eyes widened in realization, and it was like he was waking up from a twenty year coma.

"I wasn't - I didn't mean - I just - Oh! I am an asshole," Gareth said, and he burst into tears like a dam breaking. "I was just hurt! Because of that stupid jock using me and I took it out on you and Steve. I was wrong! I'm sorry!"

Eddie smiled sadly and pulled Gareth into a tight hug. He sniffled, and soon he was crying too. After crying until their tear ducts were dry, they pulled away from each other.

"I forgive you, man," Eddie said.

"Can you tell me again?" He asked.

"I'm Eddie Munson," he said, clapping Gareth on the shoulder. "And I'm bisexual."

"That's great, man," Gareth beamed. "I'm happy for you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Eddie turned around and pulled Steve to his side, slipping an arm around his waist.

"And this is my boyfriend, Steve Harrington," Eddie introduced, and Steve laughed. "Isn't he pretty?"

"Yeah, a little too pretty for you, Munson," Gareth teased.

"Fuck off," Eddie laughed and pushed him slightly.

Suddenly, the doors opened. Dustin, Mike, Will, Max, Lucas, and El came bursting into the room.

"Are you guys friends again?" Dustin asked.

"Yeah, you meddling litte shit," Eddie said, rolling his eyes fondly.

"Great! Does that mean that Hellfire is going to come back?" Mike asked.

"Oh, yes," Eddie grinned. "I'm going to have fun fucking with Gareth's character though."

"It's what I deserve," Gareth said solemnly.

"Steve. . . Eddie. . . Why are you wearing each other's clothes?" Dustin asked.

"Well, you woke us up early, and we got dressed in a hurry," Steve said.

"A little old to be having sleepovers, aren't you?" Mike asked, and Max rolled her eyes, looking up at the ceiling.

"Well, after I railed your babysitter into my mattress last night, he was too tired to go home," Eddie grinned wickedly.

"You're together!" Dustin and Mike exclaimed.

"Problems?" Eddie asked.

"Not as long as you never put the image of you fucking Steve in our heads again," Mike said and rolled his eyes. "I actually think this is awesome."

Eddie looked at the others, and they all shook their heads.

"Good."

And it really was.

[kharmii]

Some More (Bad) AWESOME MLA Takes

This will be R-18, so if you are a minor, don't hit that cut link.

First off, someone did a post about Fascism in My Hero Academia based on some bad MLA takes they saw here and on Twitter. I'm not sure if my takes are part of that, but basically when I throw out the 'fascist leaning NAZI anarchist cult' accusations, I don't mean them any deeper than saying, "The MLA are very bad people. After all, Curious tried to murder a child because it would make a good martyr story to boost their favorability ratings in public opinion (x many other MLA atrocities)."

No, I don't think they are Nazis. No, I don't think they are fascists. Now it could be argued they are anarchists, and my writings lean into the cult head canon heavily, especially in Geten's POV. Mostly I mean it in the same way a leftist will call anybody who disagrees with them a 'Nazi', the difference being that I'm throwing it out facetiously, whereas the leftist who calls me a Nazi would throw a brick at my head and murder me if they could. On that note, I saw this on Twitter today:

Can these gender studies fanatics ever see past themselves? ReD and Trumpet are grown-ass middle aged men who live in a fictional Japanese city, even if they are Caucasian passing. No middle aged, white or Japanese businessman on the entire planet earth would give a greasy goat's balls of God damn about misgendering someone. That is almost exclusively 100% a female thing, especially amongst blue haired dog or cat momma leftists.

Side note: It would be more fun if Trumpet reported to ReD's office saying, "Maid service! Time to run the vacuum under your desk!" *eyebrow wiggle*

I could see a scenario where Geten somehow gets talked into doing the 'they/them' bullshit browsing too much Tumblr. ReD would report himself to Trumpet as a joke. Since Trumpet is sort of like that cool uncle to Geten, he'd have a little talk with him to let him know what's what. He'd explain to Geten that he shouldn't get pulled into the gender bullshit because it has f-all to do with becoming the perfect murder machine. After all, his powerful Ice Ply ability makes him the pinnacle of humanity, whereas the people into the gender bs are generally the most gullible of stupid idiots who will believe any cockamamie bullshit philosophy anybody throws at them, even if there is no scientific evidence to back it up.

"Now if you happen to meet such people," Trumpet would say, "Make sure you give them a copy of Meta Liberation War and have them attend meetings. We're always looking for impressionable suckers to become disposable shock troops for the Liberation Army. After all, to give one's life for the cause of Liberation is most noble."

Geten would reply, "Thanks for imparting all your adult wisdom to me, Uncle Cunty. You have such a way with words!"

Later, Geten would get a second opinion from Skeptic who is and always was a super genius going all the way back to when he was a mensa level child prodigy GATE kid. He'd ask him what he thought of trans people, and Skeptic would show him this meme:

You aren't trans......

That opinion would be based on their healer Recovery Girl who I'd written about in one of my fics. I had written: Once called Recovery Bro, he was a huge hulking 6'6" brute who resembled the most simian of Skeptic's puppets. One day, he had up and left his wife and four kids to transition into a trans female toddler complete with blonde pigtails and teddy bear clutched in his arm. He was the most talented healer Detnerat fortune could acquire, and so they put up with his eccentricities. Skeptic had chalked the lifestyle change up to trans brainwashing via an online porn addiction.

Staying on the topic of Geten, one of the bad takes that really pisses me off is how MLA fans will act like his bigotry toward Dabi made him an outlier, whereas all the others weren't bigoted at all. They say it's because he's the Apocrypha who goes his own way. The others are compassionate tolerant freedom fighters who murder children, amputate fingers and use psychological torture against their enemies. I happen to think Geten is the way he is because all the others had a hand in his raising and taught him everything he knows. It wasn't just ReD who was a surrogate father.

After ReD gave Geten a pep talk before the Dabi battle.......

.......good old Uncle Trumpet also put loving hands on Geten's shoulders and gave him some advice. He told him to make sure he tries to sound nice and doesn't act like too much of a dick about it when he tells Dabi he is a sad pathetic loser with a weak meta ability.

"Make it sound like you are doing him a kindness ending his life," Trumpet would tell him, "After all, he'd probably end up dying alone, like, a week from now as a result of some mishap pertaining to his weed and internet porn addiction."

Geten would give him a hug and tell him he'd be there with him in spirit during the Dabi confrontation.

One more thing, if it's true ReD is enamored with Shigaraki as the new leader of the PLF, it might be because he thinks it's actually stupid. He hopes Shig will completely demolish the organization and allow him to have whatever he has left of his life back.

Maybe when quirks were brand new, and most people were still quirkless, Destro's vision might have made some sense and came across noble. In modern times, it would be a farce. Society would have to regulate meta abilities, and in the same sense, it would be impossible to because there's too much variety and too much of the unknown. There might be a lot of crimes and murders where detectives are shaking their heads not even knowing what they are looking at. Viewers have to give the MHA world a lot of poetic license because looking too deep into it makes it all fall apart.

If ReD wanted to see the MLA taken down, he'd be at a dilemma not knowing how to break it to the three remaining lieutenants who are completely loyal to him, even if their personal motivations are quite different. Only Geten might be deluded to believe in the actual cause, whereas Trumpet would be in it for the status and monetary gain, and Skep is in it for fun and because he has really weird hobbies. :-D

[emphasisonthehomo]

This has been sitting in my drafts since Oct 25th, and I know no one really cares, but I do kinda wanna just get it out because I've thought a lot on it. It's kinda long and digs into my headcanons, what choices I made for Tommy's childhood, why he's the way he is, etc.

Anyways, Tommy grew up as a single child in a small town. His parents cared more about who they thought he should be, than who he actually was.

His dad listened more to what I would consider "classic" dad rock. Led Zeppelin, Creedence Clearwater Revival, Rolling Stones, etc. As an angry kid who felt isolated and lonely, it was easy for Tommy to get progressively into heavier stuff.

Stuff specifically that his parents would complain about, because that's what you lean into right? Shit with screaming, shit with profanity, shit that sounds weird. And with Tommy being born in 1984/1985 that means he's in peak teenage years for the rise of nu-metal. This is before streaming or digital music. Tommy gets a copy of Follow the Leader by Korn and has it on repeat in his shitty tiny cd player in his room.

And then Slipknot. He gets really into Slipknot, in the way only an angry and frustrated 15 year old can. And things kind of go from there. It's not like there's a fucking metal scene in his town, there’s not even a music store, it's not big enough for that. It's just him and his two buddies who also listen to it. They go together into the city to loiter around and buy CDs. They've got the big jeans and the chain wallets, they get bullied, etc etc.

(Now this is where I could really into how this whole thing applies to Tommy as a trans guy, but that's another post.)

The thing about having nu-metal be your introduction into metal (I'm stereotyping, don't come at me with Not All Metalheads) is people make fun of you for it. It's generally speaking a very hot topic as to whether it even counts as metal. The fans are posers, the vocals are too clean, the inclusion of rap elements is bad because [insert loud farting noise here], etc.

Tommy enlisted right out of high school. He's 18, he's still angry, he needs a ticket out of his small town and out of his parents' sphere of influence. So he takes what the Army will give him. The first other person he talks to that’s also into metal immediately gives him shit. And it seems like a small thing, but it's just another layer of this sense of rejection/isolation when he's already emotionally a hot mess.

And in a move that he’ll repeat a lot over the years, he changes his behavior to better “fit in” and get someone else’s approval. He’s alone now, enlisted. He doesn’t have his two friends with him that made it easier to just be the weirdos in a small town. This new person he’s just met and gets along with has started making fun of him. The push to conform within a sub-culture that prides itself on being rejected.

It’s not too difficult for him to change up his music taste. He’s no longer in Bumfuck Nowhere, USA. It’s a lot easier to buy stuff. He gets into death metal because it’s a genre that’s ‘respectable’ in the eyes of his new friend, and has the bonus of being something he enjoys. I’m thinking bands along the lines of Cannibal Corpse, because that’s just the classic prototypical death metal band in my head.

His music taste has changed over the years. He absolutely had a phase where he listened exclusively to metal. As he gets older he manages to unclench and pull the stick out of his ass, and he starts listening to other stuff too. He does fucking love metalcore once he lets himself. There’s the nastiest battle jacket imaginable in the back of his closet. It doesn’t fit him anymore, but he keeps it for nostalgia’s sake. He’s at the point where he regrets getting into the pit when he goes to a show, but he's also the dude that will haul ass to pick someone up when they fall.

And sometimes when he's doing the dishes Wait and Bleed comes on shuffle. It takes him so sharply back to his childhood that he has to stop for a moment and just listen.

Okay realistically, who here would give any shits if I got deep into Tommy hypothetically being into heavy music?

[yaatrickyassification]

YOOO!

CAN I REQUEST SAMUEL, GUN AND DG WITH A TRANS MASC S/O⁉️

just general hcs on how they'd react when their s/o comes out to them

LOVE UR WRITING BTW <33

Thank you for your request!

I'm not intelligible about this subject and have based my research on the internet, so I'm sorry if some things may get interpreted as wrong or offensive!

[ Samuel Seo, Park Jong Gun, DG/ James Lee x Trans masc! Reader ] - General headcanons on how they'd react to their s/o coming out to them.

Samuel Seo:

You broke down right in front of him, carrying this burden for so long was mentally and physically straining. He's immediately on you, a hand on your back that was awkwardly patting you to help anchor your emotions down. And his other hand was on your waist.

He pulled you closer to his chest, and though his affection and comfort were awkward and stiff, you knew that he meant well. His voice was deep and soothing, he was trying his best and it was enough for you. A genuine small smile now gracing your lips.

"Sorry."

A shake of his head was the answer to your apology, his lips now quirk upside down into a frown. "Don't be."

He never told you but he was quite confused about what Transmasculine is and what it entails, he then turned to the internet to research more about it. He wants him to be more knowledgeable about this subject so that he can make you feel much better about yourself.

He even resorted to asking Eli or his other colleagues at work, they didn't give any good ass advice though. So he just decided to man up and work this out himself together with you throughout this journey.

But he does manage to get his point across and tells you that he's fine with it and will accept whatever decision you come upon.

"No matter who you are, you'll always be my lover to me and that will never change."

Park Jong Gun:

He's clueless but he is observant, he does notice that something is wrong like you're hiding something from him but he doesn't pry into your matters, he isn't nosy.

And besides, he trusts you, if something bothers you, he knows that you'll come to talk to him. And if it's a person by chance, well, don't you think they kind of deserve to have their 206 bones in their body to be broken?

He is quite good at breaking things or limbs in question, after all.

When you finally talked to him about it, he was very relieved. Gun doesn't want to admit it but he was very worried about you, he thought he did something wrong and decided to buy you snacks, and peace treaties.

He hugs you after you come out to him, Gun hugs you like you were the fire in the middle of the snowstorm. You felt like your bones were cracking with how tight his embrace was. A gentle tap on his shoulder snaps him out of his reverie. "I can't breathe."

He smiled before letting you go out of his arms, "sorry, got overwhelmed for a bit."

"Aren't I supposed to be the one getting overwhelmed?"

When you explained one of your worries to him, he straight out gave you his black credit card and patted you on the head with a gentle expression on his usually scary face. "Don't mind what the other people will say, if they ever try to say bad things about you just buy all of their properties I have enough money to do that. And call me, I'll beat them up for you."

DG/ James Lee:

He knows about this topic a lot more than the other two, this man is constantly surrounded by the internet. It'll be a miracle if he didn't ever find out about it through his fans or social media.

He would also be able to pick up signs and will subtly interrogate you about it, but he won't force you into anything if you're uncomfortable, he's just curious.

When you finally confessed you were a nervous wreck because he just sat there with a cold ass expression on his face, you would have burst into tears if he didn't pull you into a hug. And it was all settled in a good way.

He will spoil you and buy you all of the things that you want with no hesitation, he has enough (too much actually) money for that.

He asks you about things that you are comfortable with and vice versa, and also asks about your pronouns and a new name, he loves saying your new name and will constantly mutter it to himself.

"[y/n], [y/n], [y/n]." A hum was let out of your lips as you turned your attention to DG's direction. "Hmm? What is it?"

"Nothing, I just really like your name, it suits you. I love you."

[wherevermyway]

written on your bedroom wall // minbin (minho/changbin) // oneshot // hard 18+

❄ part of yuki’s favourites! ❄

pairing: lee minho x seo changbin rating: explicit! 18+ warnings/tags: pxrn with plot, established relationship, first time, trans male character, trans Lee Minho | Lee Know, idiots in love, gender dysphoria (only a little bit of dysphoria), holding hands, pegging, oral sex, awkward sexual humour, tongue piercings . word count: 5,2k also on AO3!

originally posted: 21 november 2022

It had been weeks, if not months, that Minho spent preparing everything down to the last detail. Tonight was the first time he was going to completely bare himself to his long-term boyfriend, Changbin.

Tonight was the first time that Minho was going to fuck like a man, as long as his nerves didn't get the better of him.

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction! any reference to persons in this work of fiction are purely coincidental. the characters referenced from Stray Kids are  interpretations loosely based on their personalities in the group and do  not represent the real people behind the personas. if this, or any of  the content included in the warnings above make you uncomfortable,  please stop reading now.

Minho paced the bedroom floor as he waited for his boyfriend to finish showering. His nerves made his palms sweat, and he was running out of fingernails to anxiously chew off. He had already spent the past few hours making sure he was groomed and the toys he wanted to use were cleaned and immaculately laid out on the desk. 

This was the first time he had slept with anyone since he’d started hormone therapy, and he was nervous that Changbin was going to be turned off as soon as he was between his legs. “God,” Minho exhaled forcefully and stopped in front of his desk, staring down at the harness he never thought he would finally use. He chewed on his bottom lip while he ran his fingers over the collection of realistic silicone dildos that he hoped wouldn’t scare Changbin off. There was his favourite purple one, too, in case the other ones looked too “real” for someone who had never slept with a man before. 

A man.

Minho rolled his eyes at himself, trying to ignore the wash of dysphoria bubbling up underneath his skin. He let a scoff escape his lips and he leaned onto the desk, overwhelmed with how nervous he was. They had planned tonight out a couple weeks in advance, talking through every potential action they were and weren’t interested in — just in case, of course. 

“Babe?” Changbin’s voice was soft, almost as soft as the hand placed on the small of Minho’s back. “You sure you’re up for this?”

A squeaky, weak affirmation rumbled in Minho’s throat and he shakily nodded his head. He leaned back into Changbin’s touch, thankful that the lights were low so the uneasy look on his face was concealed. Minho tucked his chin into his chest as he took in a deep breath. He threw his head back against Changbin’s shoulder and sighed, reaching his hands around to grab his boyfriend’s hands and brought them around his waist. 

“I’ll be okay,” Minho licked his lips as he looked up at Changbin, “I just don’t want you to be weirded out by any of this.”

Changbin’s lips curled up and he chuckled to himself, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to Minho’s forehead. He interlaced his fingers with Minho’s and hummed pleasantly. “I trust you with your collection, so if you trust me with going down on you, I think we’ll be okay.”

Minho pressed his thighs together on impulse, his stomach burning at the thought of seeing Changbin between his legs, sucking him off with his eager mouth. “It’s gonna be different than—”

“Minho, babe,” Changbin cut him off, pulling his head back with a grin on his face, “you’ve told me. I’m ready to do whatever you want me to, like, you should feel how excited I am to get my tongue on your dick.”

The little affirmation to Minho’s ego made him swallow hard. He arched his back and pressed his ass right up into Changbin’s crotch, grinning as he felt the length against him. “You’re awfully excited for someone that’s never sucked a single cock in your life.”

“It’s you, though.” Changbin giggled and leaned forward to nibble at Minho’s neck. He swiped his tongue up the side of his neck, the ball of his tongue piercing against his flesh made him gasp. “I’ll do anything to make you happy, babe. I’m gonna make sure that happens when I’m between those nice thick legs of yours.”

Minho leaned forward and grabbed a bottle of lube off of the desk and presented it in front of Changbin, nibbling at his bottom lip while he waited for the right words to surface. He tipped his head down, nervously looking up to his boyfriend. “I think I’m ready.”

The grin on Changbin’s face grew wider, and he grabbed Minho by the hips. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Minho flatly stated with a nod and stepped back. He grabbed Changbin’s hand and walked them around to the edge of their shared bed. With a shaky breath, he sat down on the bed and looked up at Changbin, his hands moved down past the hem of his oversized hoodie to the waistband of his joggers. “Do you want me to take this off or do you want—”

Changbin eagerly nodded and dropped to his knees in front of Minho on the floor. “Can I? Pretty please?”

A blush crept up on Minho’ face at the sight, unaware of how much he liked seeing Changbin this excited to drop to his knees to please him. “Y-yeah,” he sighed and dropped to his elbows, relaxing just enough to see Changbin strip him, “I trust you.”

Changbin was quick to tug at the strings of Minho’s sweatpants, even faster to pull them off by the waistband. The moment Minho’s flesh was exposed to the cool air, he pressed his thighs together and screwed his eyelids shut in embarrassment. Insecure thoughts bubbled up, knowing that Changbin could see the one thing that he hadn’t been comfortable with until years of testosterone had made him look a little more masculine. Even though they had been together for over a year at this point, Minho still couldn’t bring himself to ever let his boyfriend see what was his biggest fear.

The silence made the anxiety inside of Minho swell. He could feel Changbin’s eyes on his skin, his boyfriend’s hands gingerly reaching up his thighs, crawling up them to the trimmed tuft of hair between his legs. Minho couldn’t stop running his teeth over his bottom lip, willing himself to relax his muscles to part his legs.

“Minho,” Changbin practically whined, “I wanna get in between your legs, wanna suck you off so bad.” He grabbed Minho’s leg and pressed his hips up against it, his erection prominent against the muscle. “Babe, you’re gonna make a mess out of me before you even get inside of me.”

Minho whimpered as he lifted his head, looking down at Changbin. “Too bad I’m not gonna let you come until you’ve earned it.”

The younger man’s eyes went wide, swallowing audibly as he stared up at his boyfriend. “I’ll earn it, hyung, I promise.”

Finally, Minho laid fully back and spread his legs apart, nervously grabbing at the hem of his hoodie. He pulled it up a bit, exposing his toned stomach. “Prove it. Please, please, please get my cock in that pretty little mouth of yours and show me what you can do.”

Changbin wasted no time leaning in. Minho felt the metal rings on either side of his bottom lip rub up against his swollen skin, gasping at the first graze of his boyfriend’s tongue on his dick. The first swipes of his tongue made Minho mewl, each circle making his body twitch. It was a strange, familiar sensation made somehow more intense than he remembered.

“You taste so good, hyung.” In between swipes of his tongue, Changbin desperately panted out eager praise with a weak voice. He growled as he licked and sucked at the tender flesh in front of his face, continuing to eagerly and loudly roll his tongue in circles, the ball of the piercing making his head spin. 

The perverse noises made Minho’s stomach flip, and he finally garnered enough courage to peek at Changbin for just a moment. In the split second Minho saw Changbin, the image of his boyfriend losing himself as he ravaged his way between his legs seared into his mind. The sight emboldened Minho enough to watch a bit longer, potential dysphoria be damned.

Changbin swirled his tongue around a few more times, the ball of his tongue ring occasionally brushing up against the sensitive skin in all of the right ways. After the nth swipe, he looked up and stared at Minho, freezing for just a moment. “Are you okay, babe? Need me to stop?”

Minho hissed as he propped himself up on his elbows. He sat partially upright, and reached down to grab Changbin’s hair. “Please,” he quietly groaned, firmly tugging at his boyfriend’s hair, “if you don’t make me come soon, I will ruin you.” Before Changbin could respond, Minho roughly pushed him further in between his legs, causing the younger man to whine and moan against his skin.

Every tongue flick made Minho reel. He kept his hand in Changbin’s hair and was involuntarily rolling his hips into each lick and suck that was impressed into his flesh. “Fucking hell,” he groaned, thankful that their bedroom was a corner unit so their neighbours couldn’t hear the filthy noises they were making, “I can’t believe you’ve never sucked dick, yet you’re working me up like you’re an experienced, cheap whore.”

The insult made Changbin pull away from Minho abruptly with a sharp cry. He looked up at his boyfriend with teary eyes, his face shimmering in saliva. “God, babe,” he whined, “I seriously feel like I’m about to explode.”

Minho cocked his head to the side and let his hand drop down to Changbin’s cheek. “Then take a breath. I told you that I wasn’t gonna let you come for a while, didn’t I?”

Changbin pouted in response, leaning into Minho’s touch. “Am I at least doing okay, hyung?”

“It’s perfect. You’re perfect.” Minho softly smiled, then returned his grasp to Changbin’s hair, guiding him back down between his legs. “Now, back to work with you. I can’t wait to come all over that pretty face of yours and then make your ass mine.”

As soon as Changbin went back to eagerly lapping him up, Minho laid back and wrapped his legs around his boyfriend’s shoulders. In between languid swipes of his tongue, Changbin offered a few nips to Minho’s inner legs, his hands circling around the older man’s fleshy thighs. He pulled back just enough for his warm breath to disappear from Minho’s skin. 

“Can I use my fingers inside you or is that too… you know?”

It took a second for Minho to ground himself, the unintentional edging driving him mad. “You wanna fuck me with your fingers?”

Changbin weakly hummed. “If that’s okay.”

Minho lazily pointed towards where he thought Changbin put the lube and nodded. “It’s more than okay, you’re just gonna need some lube.”

The moment Minho heard the cap pop open, his stomach started to knot up. A wave of insecure, dysphoric thoughts tried to creep their way into his thoughts, but they were pushed away as soon as Changbin’s soft, sticky fingers were in between his legs, poking around his entrance. 

“Didn’t you say you have a history of making a mess when you come like this?” 

”Shit.” Minho flushed immediately, furrowing his brows in frustration as he realised his error of preparing for everything but this. “I didn’t grab a towel.”

A devious giggle came from Changbin as he slid his fingers inside of Minho, quelling the older man’s nervousness. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll clean it up, so just let go, hyung.”

Minho expected himself to curl up in embarrassment, but the sensation of having someone else’s fingers inside of him felt so foreign and unpredictable. It was a welcome distraction, enough to make him ignore the definite mess he would make when he came. Of course Changbin would clean it up — he had been looking forward to when Minho was finally going to be comfortable to be intimate, what was a little bit of cum going to do to someone so eager?

After two fingers were inside of Minho, rolling around and repeatedly curling up against the sensitive, firm muscle inside of him, he could feel warm breath on his skin. Changbin was waiting for some sort of approval to move forward, and Minho eagerly nodded, mumbling out some sort of incoherent pleading. 

The combination of fingers inside of him with a hot, wet tongue working around his sensitive cock made him audibly gasp. He flexed his thighs together involuntarily, his back arching upward. Every small move that Changbin did brought him so much closer to coming, and the imminent release made Minho unravel further. 

One lick, two circles. One suck, a firm come hither motion. 

Minho wasn’t sure how it was happening, but his body started to jerk, his toes curling inward, and he was lifting himself off of the bed. 

“Fuck,” he gasped, scrambling to grab at Changbin’s hair and failing, only to have his boyfriend’s free hand find him. They locked their fingers between the empty spaces and held on for dear life. “Changbin, fuck, I’m—”

Before Minho could register his orgasm, his body lurched forward and lifted up off of the bed, balancing mostly on Changbin’s shoulders. He could feel his vocal cords tense and vibrate as he shouted, and his legs were suddenly soaked with sweat and cum. It was impossible to steady his breathing for several moments, too taken aback by how much his muscles were aching and how drenched his skin was. 

“Minho, babe,” Changbin’s voice was low and gritty, each syllable embraced by little gasps, “you completely soaked me. Look at how much you came.”

The older man was embarrassed before he even opened his eyes. “I’m sorry you’re going to have to shower again.” Minho slowly calmed his breathing, sleepily staring up at the spinning ceiling. “But on the plus side, I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard in my life.”

“Hyung,” Changbin growled and stood up, crawling over Minho atop the bed, “I’m dripping in cum. My shirt is drenched.”

For a split second, Minho felt a little bad for how hard and how much he had came, but the look on Changbin’s face made it all worth it. “Good god,” he purred, “I’m keeping this look of yours locked away in my spank bank for when you’re away.”

Changbin licked his teeth and pulled his shirt off, tossing it over his shoulder. “I’d love to see you jerk off one of these days, you know. Spank bank content for spank bank content and all.”

“You’d think of me when you’re having a wank in the shower? I’m flattered.”

“And now I know what your cum tastes like. I’m going to be even more ravenous for you now than ever before.” Changbin hooked his thumbs into his sweats and pulled down, his cock springing free from the fabric with a thick string of precum rolling down from the head. “Look at what you’ve done to me, hyung. One wrong move and I’m gonna burst.”

Minho stared at the reddened top of Changbin’s cock and licked his lips. “Guess I’ll have to be extra cautious when I take that cherry of yours. I bet you’d look so pretty stuffed with some cock inside of you, hmm?”

The younger man nodded and crawled atop of Minho’s lap, eagerly leaning down to pepper excited kisses on his face. “I’m a little nervous. You’ll be good to me, right?”

A lilted giggle came from Minho as he pushed Changbin back a bit, grabbing fistfuls of his ass. “I’ll take things nice and slow, baby. Don’t worry that pretty little head of yours and just relax, okay?” He pressed some deep, hasty kisses against his boyfriend’s lips as he lifted his hips and gently shifted Changbin’s weight to the bed. “Why don’t you work on getting all lubed up while I get ready?”

Changbin pouted while Minho pulled away, his hand earnestly trailing down to the bottle of lube that had found its way next to his thigh. “Hey,” he grabbed Minho's hand before he could totally get off of the bed, “do you want me to, like. look away while you get prepped? I’m not making this weird or anything, am I?”

The tender muscles in Minho’s stomach lit up with nerves, trying to oddly rile him up while still feeling nervous. “It’s not weird,” he bashfully admitted, eyeing the corner of the room as he turned away, “I don’t know if it’s going to be particularly enjoyable to watch, but you can if you wanna.” Why in the world would it be entertaining to watch someone shove a synthetic cock into a harness?

“Well, if you think it’s creepy if I watch or something, just tell me, okay?” Changbin licked his lips, the saliva accentuating the gentle grin he had on his face. 

Minho playfully slapped the side of Changbin’s arm and lifted himself off the bed, shimmying over to the desk with his weak, jelly-like legs. “You’re kind of a perv, you know? I don’t think I’ve dated someone that’s this attentive and energetic — and I’ve fucked a lot of straight dudes.” He could feel Changbin staring at him as he grabbed the briefs he’d bought specifically for this occasion. When he stepped into the leg holes and slid them up his legs, his eyes locked onto the average-sized prosthetic he was most familiar with, and he knew that’s the one he would end up using. 

The room was quiet while Minho grabbed the toy off of the desk and carefully tucked it into his underwear, right through the tightly stitched ring inside of it. He had practised this many times to feel like a natural at it by the time he and Changbin eventually slept together, but Minho could still feel his blood rushing inside of his head, scared that maybe his boyfriend did find this a little weird after all. Still, the silence continued, shifting from confused to intrigued. 

“Can I see it yet?”

It was obvious that Changbin was trying to be patient but was miserably failing. Minho turned his head over his shoulder long enough to see Changbin stare at him. He turned his attention back to the silicone between his legs and deeply inhaled before working up the courage to turn around. This was the first time he was going to be seen as a man with a (mostly) functioning, (mostly) realistic-looking cock (as long as it wasn’t inspected too closely) — to a man born with a functioning, real, skin-and-literal-actual-balls cock, and he was nervous. 

“I don’t,” Minho’s voice cracked as an interjection while he anxiously turned around fully, “I dunno if it’s anywhere near what you expected but—”

“That’s going inside of me?” Changbin sputtered out, lube-soaked fingers frozen, plunged halfway inside of his entrance. “Oh my god, that’s going inside of me.”

Minho took a moment to process the words coming from his boyfriend’s mouth. He couldn’t figure out if it was a positive or negative statement, standing in the middle of the floor perhaps a bit dumbly. “Not until you’ve been properly stretched, but yeah,” he nodded, his throat dry as he tried to form a coherent sentence, ”I’d like to fuck you until you go cross-eyed with this, if you’re into it.”

Changbin shifted his weight, scooting down the bed a bit until his head was nicely placed at the middle of his pillow. He shimmied his hips up a bit and nibbled at his lips while his fingers circled around his entrance. “I’m into it,” he nodded, his cock noticeably throbbing and leaking more than before, “I wanna watch you the whole time. How do you want me to lay here?”

For a moment, Minho’s mind went completely blank. When he bottomed with previous partners prior to transitioning, he usually faced away, burying his face as deeply into the pillow as he could stand. Thinking back on it made him realise that the easiest face-to-face interaction would probably require Changbin putting in all of the effort, which Minho didn’t expect. However, the fleeting mental image of watching Changbin lower himself onto his cock made Minho completely breathless.

“I think I want you to ride me?” Minho’s voice squeaked as he ended his statement with an upward inflection, insecurity bleeding into it, making it sound more like a question. “Y-yeah,” he cleared his throat, “I definitely want that, actually.”

Changbin licked his bottom lip and slowly made his way up to his knees, watching Minho curiously. “You’re sure?”

Minho crawled onto the bed, kneeling right in front of Changbin. He nervously reached up to cup his boyfriend’s face before he planted a soft, quick kiss on his lips. “I’m certain, yeah. Are you stretched out enough for me?”

“Mm,” Changbin reached behind him and pulled the bottle of lube out, squeezing a generous amount into his hand, “I’m ready for you. Might take a second to acclimate, but I’ll make sure it’s a good show for you.��� A devilish grin crept up the corners of his lips, and he slowly reached his hands down to the synthetic cock awkwardly jutting out of Minho’s harness. “Can I lube you up, baby?”

A lump got caught in Minho’s throat as he watched some lube drip down from Changbin’s hand onto his lap. He awkwardly reached out to grab Changbin’s hips, leading him back a bit so that he could lean against the wall. “Yeah. Is this position gonna be good, or should I move a little more—”

Changbin straddled Minho and cut him off with a deep kiss, swiping his tongue against Minho’s dry bottom lip. He dragged his teeth across the sensitive flesh and nipped firmly enough to make Minho whimper. Changbin pulled back slightly, letting his hands work on getting the dildo slicked up. “You’re doing that thing you do when you overthink. While I think it’s cute, I know that means you’re letting yourself freak out, and I don’t want you to worry.” He slowly lined himself up against the head of the cock and pressed his forehead against Minho’s. “Have a little faith in me, won’t you? It’s my first time doing this, too, and we’re doing pretty well for ourselves. Let me take control for a little bit, baby.”

Minho nervously nodded and awkwardly let his hands hover over Changbin’s hips, swallowing hard as he watched his boyfriend start to take him in. “S-should I, like, where should I put my hands? Do they go on your hips? Do I jerk you off?”

A light chuckle came from Changbin. “Minho, baby,” he whispered, using the back of his free hand to force Minho to meet his eyes, “do whatever’s natural. Stop overthinking and relax a little. It’ll come to you in a sec, ‘kay?”

“W…what?” Minho stuttered, then watched Changbin’s face contort into a bit of pain before he bit back a loud moan. His eyes immediately went wide, and he looked down to his lap.

It was only just the head, but his cock was actually inside of his boyfriend.

“Holy fuck.” Minho’s hands fell to the tops of Changbin’s thighs, almost as if he were helping guide his boyfriend down. He watched Changbin’s cock pulse as he hovered in the same spot, precum slowly spilling down his flesh. “You’re doing so well. I never thought I’d say this, but you look so good riding my dick like this.”

Changbin sharply inhaled through his teeth and looked down at Minho, his free hand pushing his chin up with his thumb, while the rest of his fingers rested at the back of Minho’s neck. “I could say the same about you, how good and eager you look popping my cherry right now.”

A sharp breath escaped Minho’s lips, like he’d been punched in the sternum. Something about the way Changbin phrased his dirty talk made his stomach flip, and he could feel his cock throb, begging for attention. “I haven’t even fucked you yet and I’m already looking forward to round two.”

Changbin softly laughed and continued sinking himself down onto Minho’s lap. “You haven’t even gotten me off yet and you’re already thinking about your needs? Hasn’t anyone ever told you that patience is a virtue, hyung?” 

Before Minho could respond, Changbin moaned loudly, his thighs coming into contact with Minho’s. He whimpered as he shakily, desperately kissed his way around Minho’s face until their lips met. They exchanged needy, passionate kisses while Changbin grabbed Minho’s hand and brought it to his dripping cock, silently begging to be touched. “Not too fast,” Changbin whispered at an elevated pitch, “just a little extra attention in a sec. It’s not gonna take long with you inside of me.”

Minho nodded and only slowly circled his thumb at the base of Changbin’s cock. “How’s it feel?” Sure, Minho had experienced the sensations of penetration before, but he was so curious to hear what exactly his boyfriend was feeling, and if it was anything similar to how good it felt for him. 

Changbin pressed a quick kiss to Minho’s lips before he placed his hands on the wall, pushing away a bit. His eyes were half-open, full of lust as he stared hungrily down at Minho. “It feels like we should be doing this at least once a week.” He reached one of his hands down to Minho’s hoodie and cocked his head to the side. “You still want this on? I know I’m gonna come all over it.”

“You already have to wash the sheets,” Minho reached down to Changbin’s hand, guiding it up under the fabric, past the scars under his pecs, “what’s a little more laundry for the night?”

The younger man looked surprised as his fingers grazed the soft skin of Minho’s chest. “You’ve never let me touch you here… you sure about this?”

Minho nodded. “It’s a night of firsts, and a lot of euphoria. I trust you, baby.”

A soft, eager smile immediately spread across Changbin’s face, baring his teeth. He giggled and nodded. “I love you, you know?”

“I love you too.” The look on Changbin’s face made Minho feel completely at ease, like tonight was going way better than either of them had anticipated. Minho slowly wrapped his fingers around the base of Changbin’s short and thick cock, careful to avoid the head for now. “C’mon,” he whispered, “fuck yourself on my dick, baby. Show me what those hips of yours can do.”

Changbin shuddered and slowly started to rock his hips, pressing more of his weight against Minho’s chest and the wall behind them. He clamped his eyelids shut as he slowly moved, unintelligible words spilling from his lips. His motions were low and shallow, but whatever he was doing seemed to make him feel good, making his nails dig into Minho’s chest hard enough to leave marks.

“That’s it.” Minho watched Changbin, taking in every small change of expression as he started to work his boyfriend’s flesh in his hand. This moment was something he wanted to bask in for the rest of his life. “How’s it feel to ride your boyfriend’s cock?”

“It’s good,” Changbin gasped, rolling his head to the side, “you’re so thick, Minho. It’s like you were made to be inside of me.”

A deep chuckle came from Minho’s throat. He kept his jerking motions gentle and slow until Changbin started to ride him faster, the harness causing enough friction against his cock to feel like it was really his flesh inside of his boyfriend. “That cute, fucked-out look on your face looks like you were meant to ride me for the rest of your life. You’re about to come, aren’t you?”

A tiny, shaky whimper came from Changbin as he weakly nodded his head. He partially opened his eyes, staring at Minho with a pleading gaze. “So close. Make me come, baby. Need you…”

Minho grabbed Changbin’s hip and dug his heels into the bed, thrusting his hips upward. The motion made Changbin curl inward and moan loudly, gasping out Minho’s name intermingled with broken pleas. For this being his first time taking control and fucking someone else, Minho felt a rush of pride help guide his hips and hand in the right motions. “Look at me, Changbin.”

Between thrusts, Changbin gasped and managed to maintain eye contact with Minho, visibly barely holding on.

“Come for me.”

With one last snap of Minho’s hips, Changbin cried out and fell forward onto his hands. Cum shot up between them, some staining Minho’s hoodie and some landing on both of their faces. As soon as the last dribble of cum spilled from his cock, Changbin collapsed into Minho’s chest, panting hard.

Minho could feel their sweat leach into the sheets, and he enjoyed the way Changbin’s back felt slick with cool sweat on his flushed skin as he rubbed his hands into the flesh. He turned his head and buried his nose into Changbin’s hair, taking in the smell of his conditioner and the smell of sex, feeling so many positive emotions as he did so. “I love you.” Minho whispered, pressing a soft kiss against his boyfriend’s head. “I love you so much.”

Changbin whined and slowly turned his head to face Minho, looking at him for only a moment before letting his eyelids flutter shut again. “I love you too. I’m gonna feel this in the morning, aren’t I?”

The way Changbin flatly delivered his question made Minho cackle. “Oh, baby,” he nudged his head against Changbin’s forehead and trailed his fingers down his back, “you’ve really never taken dick before, have you? You’ll be a little sore, sure, but I bet you’ll still be on cloud nine in the morning.”

Again, Changbin whined, this time a bit more dramatically. He snaked his arms around Minho’s back and groaned, burying his head deep into his boyfriend’s neck. “Sleep sounds good right now. Could get cosy right here and pass out, actually.”

“Oh no,” Minho wrapped his arms around Changbin and slowly forced them both upright, “we are absolutely not sleeping in these nasty sheets and I refuse to have your cum dry on our faces. C’mon,” he poked Changbin in the sides to jolt him upright, “you promised you would clean up the mess you made.”

“Technically,” Changbin grumbled, “you’re the one that made such a mess.” He peeled himself away from Minho’s chest and pouted. “I just happened to make you make said mess.”

Minho rolled his eyes and playfully pushed Changbin onto his back, giggling as he peppered kisses all over his boyfriend’s upper chest. “Okay, Mr Always-Sticks-to-his-Principles,” he quickly suckled a love bite into Changbin’s collarbone before staring down his boyfriend, “you can argue semantics all you want as you load our messy sheets into the laundry, then you can join me in the shower for round two. How’s that sound?”

Changbin’s eyes went wide and his face immediately brightened up. “Y-you’re really gonna let me shower with you? And, just to clarify, you want more sex? In the shower? Are you feeling okay?”

A giggle came from Minho as he propped himself up on his knees. “I’m feeling quite well, actually. I’m just a little insatiable once I get a taste of something I love. Get used to it.” He slowly pulled out of Changbin, enjoying the way his boyfriend’s face contorted in a mixture of pleasure and pain. “I’m going to go hop in the shower, and I expect to see you there soon, pretty boy.”

Without notice, Minho got off of the bed and made his way towards the washroom with vigour in each step, smiling proudly to himself. His biggest fear had been conquered, and he felt warm as he thought about how well his first time with Changbin had gone. There were brief moments of dysphoria, sure, but the constant reassurance from his boyfriend felt natural and made him more comfortable. Maybe all of the panic he had worked himself up over was worth it in the end, and they could slowly work towards more regular physical intimacy.

Patience was a virtue, after all.

[purefrostbyte]

No One Else To Turn To

No One Else To Turn To

Dabi/Touya Todoroki

  Blood seeped down your skin, you hero costume stuck uncomfortably to your skin and the rips let the cold wind in. Where were you going? It certainly wasn’t back to your apartment where Rumi and Keigo would fuss and argue with you. No, you were going to the only person who wouldn’t ask questions, the one person you have been warned over and over again to say away from. The one person you for some reason could never get over no way how bad he was for you, mentally and physically. If the Hero Commission found out they would have you executed as an example to the other commission based heroes about loyalty and consequence.

You stumbled into the alley way not far away from him, maybe you could take a break before getting there? Convince yourself it was a bad idea and get some cheap ass motel for the night instead. Seems the universe hated you today because the minute you rounded the corner you bumped straight into him.

You knew it was him, he was inhumanely warm and smelt of cigarettes and blood. “Y/n?” his voice rasped as he held you up from collapsing on the ground. “Sorry,” you spluttered as you coughed up a little bit of blood, “I’m in the wrong place, I should go.” You attempted to pull away but he knew better, knew you had to originally been looking for him and now decided against it. “Bullshit,” he always did know you to well, “Come on, let’s get you wrapped up Dumbass.”

 You don’t remember how you ended up in his room but when you woke up, with your wounds wrapped and clean, you could hear yelling from the other room. You had never actually been in the hideout, only ever creeping in through his window and leaving the same way. It took you a moment before you realized who was yelling and you knew it wasn’t going to end well if you didn’t step in, they had a knack for pissing each other off but this fight seemed a lot more heated than the ones they normally have.

Groaning in pain you managed to sit up and grab one of his shirts off the floor before making your way to the commotion. You stopped to look at yourself in the mirror and you looked like you had died and come back to life. It was at this moment you hear another voice, one you weren’t familiar with but you had a feeling you knew who it belonged too. Sighing you made your way out to be greeted by the sight of the Dabi having a heated argument with Hawks, who happened to have Miriko with him and Shigaraki was trying to figure out why in god’s name two heroes were in his base fighting with Dabi. “Hand her over Dabi or I swear I’ll kill you here and now,” Hawks yelled, his feather sword in hand. Looks like he wasn’t here to play games. “Oh? You kill me that would be a cute trick Bird brain. She isn’t going anywhere and definitely no with you!” Dabi’s fists were ignited and it seemed Miriko was trying to keep Keigo back as much as Twice, Compress and Toga were keeping Dabi back.

“Enough!” You said, which caused both men to look at you. “Y/n-“ Keigo started but you shook your head. “Get out,” your voice was stern and Keigo found himself at a loss for words at the fact you were willing here and wanted him to leave. Miriko decided to speak up, hoping she could talk some ounce of sense into you. “Y/n you know you shouldn’t be here, especially if the hero commission find out. They’ll have you head Y/n-” You rolled your eyes, “Was this before or after you fucked Shigaraki that you started caring about Commission rules?” Miriko went red and Shigaraki pink, you shook your head. “I’m only asking one more time, both of you, Leave.” Keigo has snapped out of whatever trans like state he had been in, “Y/n the commission will kill you! Is he really worth dying for?!” You glared at Keigo, feeling anger bubble up in you, “I think you of all people know that answer.”

Dabi was silent, watching how you handled both heroes with very little care. It was weird for him, when you were kids you had always dreamed of being a hero and now you were risking that by being around him. He couldn’t help but feel like he was gonna get you killed, and that was something he could never live with. Both heroes stared in shock at you, because they knew very well you would die for him if push came to shove. “Y/n…” Miriko started, “I’m asking as a friend, not a hero. Please come with us. We aren’t gonna let you get yourself killed.” You scoffed at her, “Get myself killed? You and I both know that when the Commission is done using us we are dead anyway. I’m not a puppet. I wasn’t for Endeavor, I wasn’t for my mother and I certainly won’t be for the fucking Commission.” Hawks gritted his teeth, “If you do this, you know you can never come back Y/n.” You looked at him with cold eyes, “Good, because I don’t want to go back.”

Hawks and Miriko watched in shook and hurt as you limped back to Dabi’s room. They knew what the Commission used you for, but the fact that you were now walking away and they themselves would have to report that. Well they honestly didn’t know what to do. Hawks glared at Dabi before making a lunge at him that thankfully Miriko caught. “Don’t you think you have ruined her life enough?!? Now this? What did you do?!?” Hawks was livid and Dabi just stood there, “She made her choice, I had nothing to do with that.” Keigo’s saw red, his anger boiling over. “You always have something to do with it! She is so stupidly in love with you that she’s willing to put her life in danger! Do you know what the hero commission will do when they find out? Do you know what Endeavor will do?!”

It was Dabi’s turn to get angry, “It was you who got her into the Commission knowing full well what they would task her with. It’s because of you she can’t sleep at night because she’s tormented by the souls of those she killed for your commission!” Dabi’s arms were now engulfed in fire and Keigo had backed off because he knew what Dabi said was the truth. “It’s you who turned her into a killer and it’s you that is the reason she comes running back here even though she knows she shouldn’t. Because at least I give a shit instead of judge her for the job you got her!” Miriko pulled Hawks to the exit, she knew Dabi was right and Keigo would never admit it to himself. She pushed Keigo out the door before turning to Dabi, “You better keep her safe Fire boy, I think that’s the least you can do for the price she’s paid for you.” and with that Miriko walked out leaving the League severely confused and Dabi contemplating everything.

I don’t even know what this is. Don’t know if I should do a part 2

[lady-of-snails]

BAKUDEKU PRIDE WEEK DAY 1: LITTLE VICTORIES ❤

“Deku?”

Izuku jolted slightly at the sudden voice, having not heard Kacchan approach despite his combat boot-clad footsteps being anything but quiet. He titled his head up and back to smile at his...boyfriend? Best friend that he kissed sometimes? He wasn’t sure, since his and Kacchan’s relationship had changed so much over the years and never quite fit into a category. He was more than fine with it, though. He was happy. 

“Hi, Kacchan!” he chirped, setting his phone off to the side quickly and trying to turn his mind away from previous thoughts. Kacchan frowned down at him, raising an eyebrow. 

“The hell were you looking at?”

“Nothing,” he lied, reaching up to grab Kacchan’s arm and pull him down into the grass. Kacchan complied, letting Izuku sling the arm he’d grabbed over his shoulder and pull him in close. Kacchan continued inspecting him, definitely not believing him. “Really, Kacchan, it was nothing.” 

Kacchan huffed, then dug his fingers into Izuku’s hair and shook his head around a bit. “Then don’t be looking so fuckin’ bummed.” He proceeded to pull Izuku into a headlock against his chest, making him laugh. “I don’t wanna have to twist your arm off for you to tell me about shit, remember?” 

“Kacchan! Let go!” Izuku laughed, reaching up to slap a hand over his friend’s face, pushing him back and starting a short wrestling match that ended with Kacchan pinning him on his back.

“You gonna talk now?” he asked as Izuku stayed enamored with his handsome red eyes. 

“Hm,” Izuku hummed, blinking up at Kacchan innocently, “Maybe if you give me a kiss?”

Kacchan raised his eyebrow in a way that made Izuku’s heart stutter, leaning down slowly...then stopping just before pressing his lips into Izuku’s. “Talk first.” 

“Hey!” Izuku gasped in betrayal as Kacchan rolled off him with a downright evil cackle. “That was mean,” he pouted, sitting up.

Kacchan snorted a laugh and smirked. “That was negotiating.” 

“More like bribery!” Izuku protested. 

“Do you want a kiss or not?” 

“Fine,” Izuku huffed, grabbing his phone again and opening it to the webpage it had been on before. “I was...well, remember when we went to Mina’s house last week?” Kacchan nodded. “She had that...she had the pansexual flag on her wall, and I just thought...” Izuku sighed. “I don’t know.” 

“What, you want a pride flag?” Kacchan asked. Izuku hated the pang of anxiety that jolted through his chest even though he and Kacchan had been out to each other for years, and they were literally almost kissing just a second ago, but he can’t help it.

“I don’t know?” he answered truthfully, looking down at the online shop full of pride merch he’d been scrolling through, “I mean, a whole flag feels like...a lot. But maybe I want that?” Izuku ran a hand through his hair and huffed again. “This is a dumb thing to worried about, isn’t it? I should be loud and proud about this or something.” 

“Oi,” Kacchan interrupted, reaching out to grab Izuku by the chin, “Shut up, dumbass, this ain’t stupid. You should do whatever the hell you want to.” He scooted himself across the grass so he was sitting next to Izuku, looking over at his phone screen. “If you want a fuckin’ bi pride pin or some shit you should get one.” 

“Isn’t it...isn’t a little weird to wear a flag pin around?” Izuku asked quietly, frowning. Kacchan smacked him upside the head. “Ack! Kacchan!” 

“I dare you to go say that Shitty Hair,” Kacchan said as Izuku rubbed the back of his neck. Izuku blinked at him dumbly, remembering Kirishima’s collection of anything and everything with the trans flag on it. 

“That’s...he’s different,” he excused, sounding stupid even to himself. Kacchan just glared at him. “Right,” Izuku sighed, “excuses.” He dropped his gaze to the ground, only for Kacchan to huff, grab his chin, and force him to look back up. 

“Listen, Deku, you don’t owe shit to anyone but yourself, got it?” he said, red eyes earnest and stern in a way that always rendered Izuku incapable of looking away. “You want to wear a fucking bi flag dress, then you fucking do it, and you use your freakishly strong thighs to crush anyone you gives you shit for it.” Kacchan smirked as Izuku’s face heated. “Or maybe punch them, homophobes don’t deserve to die that happy.”

“Kacchan!” Izuku shrieked, face painting beet red as Kacchan snickered. “You can’t just say that!”

“Sure I can,” Kacchan grinned, releasing his chin as Izuku buried his face in his hands. “I’ve got plenty of things I could say, like-”

“ANYWAYS,” Izuku cut him off quickly, “your point was?” 

“Coward,” Kacchan smirked. “My point was,” he continued, wrapping his arms around Izuku and practically pulling the other boy into his lap, smiling up at him with a rare softness, “that you deserve to do what you want, not what you think you should want or what other people tell you want.” He paused for a second, then raised an eyebrow. “So, Deku, what do you want?” 

Izuku thought about that for a second, resting his hands on Kacchan’s broad shoulders, then broke into a mischievous smirk. “I want...,” he hummed, leaning forward until his arms were wrapped around Kacchan’s neck, “one of those little heart pins, a little flag for my desk, and...,” he trailed off, not missing the flush of Kacchan’s cheeks as he brought their faces a hair apart, leaning in until Kacchan’s eyes started to close and then - ”that’s it.” - shoving Kacchan back into the grass with a laugh of revenge and scrambling off him. 

“You ass!” 

--

The next morning at school, Izuku opened his locker to find a small bisexual pride flag taped to the back, along with a note in Kacchan’s handwriting.

little things can be big things, too, nerd, forgot to tell you that. now go punch a homophobe or something and save the thigh crushing for people that deserve it (me). love you. 

ps your locker is a fucking disaster

[adhdeancas]

12x01 Rewrite with Trans Dean

trigger warnings for minor mention of dysphoria. Also minor/negligent transphobia. 

“Mom?” His heart is stopped in his chest, staring at the face he’s kept in his head for all of his life, the face he’s thought of as the only real home he’s ever had. She looks the same, exactly the same. “I… uh, are you really… real?” 

He reaches out without thinking, needing to just make sure that Amara didn’t bring back a fantasy or a ghost or a sick joke. She proves it without him touching her, flipping him in a neat trick he recognizes from his own training and ending up with her foot on his neck, pressing him into the dirt. “Where am I? Who the hell are you?”

She looks so scared. Dean swallows, his Adam’s apple bouncing against the bottom of her foot. He needs to make her trust him, preferably before she does something rash like snap his neck. “I’m Dean Winchester. I’m your son. I’m… Sam’s brother”

The pressure lets up on Dean’s neck even though Mary’s shaking her head. “No. No, I don’t have two boys. They’re- they’re just kids.”

Dean winces, breathing heavily. This is gonna be a motherfucker for her to understand. Still, Mary lets him up, and he stands and rubs his neck, trying desperately to recall every bit of information he’s stored away about his mom. “Mom. Listen to me. Your name- your name is Mary Sandra Campbell, okay? You were born December 5, 1954, to Samuel and Deanna Campbell. Your father, he bounced around a lot for, uh, work, and you bounced right along with him, and you ended up in Lawrence, Kansas.”

Mary flinches, the facts hitting straight-on. “How do you know all that?” 

“Dad told me.” Dean tells her. He doesn’t tell her that he had to gather the story from slurred words, drunken tears in between stories about the perfect wife. That he recited them in his head like a prayer so he wouldn’t forget her. “March 23, 1972, you walked out of a movie theater - Slaughterhouse-Five. You loved it, and you bumped into a big Marine and you knocked him flat on his ass. You were embarrassed, and he laughed it off, said you could make it up to him with a cup of coffee. So, you went to, uh,” God, what was the name of that stupid place? “Mulroney’s, and you talked and he was cute and he knew the words to every Zeppelin song,” A memory of a smiling young alive Mary comes to mind, and he pushes it away because it hurts. She’s right there. “So when he asked you for your number, you gave it to him, even though you knew your dad would be pissed. That was the night that -” You fell in love with- “that you met -”

“John Winchester.”

“August 19, 1975, you were married… in Reno. Your idea.”Dean had always thought that was hilarious. He looks her in the eyes again, pleading with her to not dispute the next part. “A few years later, I came along, then Sammy.”

“No, no. My oldest was a girl, Deanna.” Mary looks Dean up and down, taking in his short hair, wide shoulders, and flat chest. He crosses his arms over that now, uncomfortable, hoping she isn’t looking at his long eyelashes or his delicate cheekbones or his hips. All the places he’s insecure about. 

“Yeah, um… that’s me.” He looks up at her, his jaw clenching, waiting for the ball to drop. “I shortened the name a little, and the- uh- hair.” He tries for the old charming smile as he runs a hand through the spiky hair he hasn’t let grow out in 20 years. It doesn’t quite get there, settling at a more delicate need for approval. Mary doesn’t give it to him. “Do you believe me?”

She bypasses the question, turning her eyes away from him to look at the car behind him. Something changes in her eyes. “I burned.” She says quietly, like she’s remembering the heat. Dean swallows. He remembers the heat too. “How long have I been gone?”

“33 years.” His voice cracks. 

Mary looks back to him, and she moves forward, putting two gentle fingers to his cheek, to the freckles sprayed across soft skin. He’s had them forever, even when he was little. “Dee?” She calls him by his old nickname; Dean’s doubly thankful that he doesn’t use his deadname. 

“Hi, mom.” There are tears in his eyes.

------------------------------------------------------

“How did he die?”

Dean bows his head. He’s really not selling himself too good here, is he? First the trans thing, now- “He gave himself up for me.” He’ll be surprised if Mary wants anything to do with him. Surprisingly, she chuckles and sniffles. 

“That does sound like John.” He looks over, and she’s smiling. His brow furrows. Killing himself to save Dean’s ass does sound like John, but not in a way that makes him want to smile. “And he was a hunter? And he raised-” She stutters now, looking at him again and looking away just as quickly. “You and Sam to be-”

“Yeah, he did.” A cold weight is settling in Dean’s stomach, and he tries and fails to not let it seep into his words.

“And you said we’ve met before, when you traveled through time,”

Dean nods. It had been horrible and amazing to see Mary and have her see him, just as some guy. A guy, at all. “Twice. Your memory got wiped, so…” So you don’t remember me telling you I was your kid, and you not believing me. I do.

“And you’re… my daughter-”

Dean coughs. He hasn’t been called a daughter in a long-ass time. “No, I’m- I mean. I was. I know it’s a lot. And I’ll explain everything. I will. But right now, let’s get out of here. Let’s get you home. Come on, Mom.”

She doesn’t correct him, which means she must believe, at least a little bit, that she is his mom. 

-----------------------------------------------------

“You live here?” She looks around the cavernous space and he smiles, looking around too. It really is awesome. 

“Yeah, when we’re not on the road. It’s an old Men of Letters bunker.”

“Men of Letters?” She scoffs. Dean grins a bit and looks at her. He thinks he likes her. “They’re a myth. An old hunter’s story.”

He tilts his head. He’s just gonna keep blowing her mind today, apparently. “Not so much. New duds look good.” He gestures to her clothes. He’d lent her some extra clothes he’d had in the trunk, and he tries not to fixate on how they weren’t that big on her. He’s not much taller than her, and he knows part of that even is the heeled boots he’s wearing. 

“Well, thanks. It’s better than walking around in that nightgown the rest-” Dean’s nodding, about to say something extremely awkward like ‘Yeah, nightgowns are a bitch,’ when he finally looks at what she’s staring at, spattered on the floor of the bunker. “That’s blood.”

 “Yeah.” Dean’s heart leaps into his throat, but he goes into autopilot before he can think about freaking out. He takes his gun out from his pants and cocks it, clearing the immediate area. A blurred sigil on the wall puts another bolt of fear through his chest. “Sammy? Cas?” He winces at how high his voice goes.

He takes the Map Table’s gun out from its hiding place and hands it to Mary. She was a hunter too, and he’s not about to leave her unarmed to clear the place. “Take this. Stay here.” Dean takes off immediately. It isn’t until he’s moving on to check the kitchen that he hears the voice. Mary’s clear as a bell, saying, 

“Hands, now,”

Dean’s in the room before he can think about it. His heart practically comes undone when he sees that dumb familiar trench coat. He puts his body between Cas and his mom’s gun immediately, hoping she will trust him enough not to shoot through him. “Whoa, whoa, whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa! It’s okay, it’s okay. He’s a friend, all right?” He meets Cas’s eyes and sees the utter relief in his eyes, and a surge of warmth fills his chest. “Hey, Cas.”

It’s a lackluster greeting when they both thought they’d never see each other again, and Cas shows it when he steps forward quickly and pulls Dean into a tight hug. “Dean!”

Dean grins and pats his back. “Hey, okay. All right,” He comforts him quietly. 

“Dean, you’re alive?” Cas pulls away and looks him over, like he’s afraid Dean might disappear. Dean nods, understanding; he had done the same thing to Mary, after all.

“Yeah.”

“What about the bomb and the Darkness? What happened?”

“I’ll tell you everything. Where is Sam?”

“He’s not here.” Obviously. Dean could smack him, but his face wants to break into a fond smile instead. He represses both urges.

“Are you a hunter?”

“No, I’m an angel.”

“He’s an angel.” Dean says over Cas. They look at each other and then back at Mary. 

“Come again?”

“An angel, with a capital A,” Dean clarifies. He feels, ridiculously, a little bit like he’s showing off. Showing Cas off. “You know, wings, harp.”

“No, I don’t have a harp.”

Dean laughs. “This is Castiel. Cas, this is… Mary. Winchester.”

------------------------------------------------------

“It’s been kinda weird, here. You know, with mom being back?” And learning that her baby girl is now a full grown man? “It’s like we don’t know how to act around each other, so we just kinda make this small talk, and act like it’s normal, but it’s- it’s so not normal.” Dean can hear the pleading in his voice. 

“What has she said to you?” Cas asks quickly. Dean bites his lip to hide the smile he’s trying to get from hearing Cas get all angry and protective on his behalf. He’s reminded of the time Cas looked him directly in the face and said, ‘Dean Winchester, if anyone is ever transphobic to you, I will smite them immediately and without any remorse.’ And before Dean could make a quip about internalized transphobia, Cas added, ‘Do not make me do that to you.’

“Well, nothing. That’s- that’s the whole point.” It’s the kind of thing most people usually wanna go over, what the fuck gender their kid is? He’s pretty sure no news does not mean good news in this context.

“Okay, what have you said to her?”

“Well, nothing. I’m- I don’t know what to say to her, y’know? It’s like it’s all too much, and I don’t wanna overwhelm her.” 

“Dean, your identity is not ‘too much.’” Cas says immediately. Dean sighs. That wasn’t what he meant, even though he has said something similar before. Something when he was lonely and sad and feeling like explaining his dick to a one night stand was too complicated for him to do to even assuage it that way.

“No- I know. It’s not that. It’s… everything.”

Now it’s Cas’s turn to sigh. “Don’t make things unnecessarily complicated, as you humans tend to do. I’ll call you.” He hangs up. 

Dean lets the phone fall with his arm limp to his side. “Yeah. Great. That’s helpful.” He says to the empty air. “That’s helpful.” Asshole.

-------------------------------------------------------

They’re in the car, and Dean is driving, and there is too much going on. He’s not sure whether he’s happy that Cas is in the backseat for this conversation or not. “So you’re… my Deanna.”

Dean’s hands tighten on the wheel. He looks at them and ignores the voice in his head that says they are petite. Womanly. “Uh, yeah. I was born Deanna Jane Winchester.” He clears his throat and meets Cas’s eyes in the rearview. He gives him a little nod, and Dean continues. “I’m… It’s called trans.”

Dean risks a look over at Mary, and she’s playing with her ring. “So you… wanted to be a boy.” 

Dean clears his throat again. He’s pretty sure he does it every time before he talks, and he’s also pretty sure his voice gets lower every time he talks, too. He swears it’s an automatic reflex. 

“Dean’s soul is- that of a human man.” Cas interrupts, saying it like that clarifies things. The corner of Dean’s mouth tilts up a little bit. Cas did tell him that he could see his soul, and also told him that it was, and he quotes ‘A color more similar to that of a men than women.’ Which, yeah, that tracks. He guesses Cas leaves off the ‘more similar’ part to make things simpler for Mary.

“And so you…” Mary trails off, a finger pointing toward his chest aborting its mission when she realizes it might be rude. 

Dean raises an eyebrow with amusement. “Cut my tits off? Yeah.” He takes a hand off the wheel to raise his shirt, proudly showing off his top surgery scars. Mary trails a hand along them, feeling the raised skin. “After Sammy went to college. It was a bitch of a few weeks, but it was worth it.”

Mary takes her hand away and nods, brows furrowed like she’s trying to wrap her head around it. Dean grins. The grin freezes awkwardly, the edges tilting down, when Mary opens her mouth again. “So you have a-”

Cas coughs loudly in the back seat. Dean meets his wide eyes with a similar expression, and Mary cuts off the question, catching onto the fact she said something wrong. “Don’t think we really need to go there, do we, mom?”

That was a question for him and whatever lucky son of a bitch (gender neutral) ended up in his bed at the end of the night. “Right.” Mary says quickly. She turns her whole body then, asking, “Is that why you like men?”

Dean only swerves a little, he swears. The car coming the opposite direction doesn’t seem to agree, holding its horn long and hard. Luckily, it gives him a moment to stutter less obviously. 

“Sorry, I just meant- since you two are-” Mary gestures between Cas and Dean, and Dean blinks his eyes solidly, trying to convince himself this is really happening.

“No! I mean, we-” Dean doesn’t have the balls (hehe) to look at Cas in the back seat, but he can see the trench coat shifting out of his peripheral. “I’m not-”

“Was John okay with this?”

Dean laughs. It comes out bitter and dark. “Dad didn’t much give a fuck what I did with my body. He’d given up on grandkids about the time he saw how decent I was at hunting, so my long hair wasn’t a personal loss.” He knew I wasn’t gonna live long enough to give him grandkids, not without some self-sacrifice on John’s part.

Mary looks a little shocked at his outburst, and Dean almost feels bad for being so blunt and crass. But then he remembers growing up with John as his male role model, and he tightens his jaw. No, the bluntness and crassness was accurate. “Oh.”

“... Yeah.” Dean bites his lip and risks another glance at his mom. 

“So, you’re okay with this?” He waves a hand at himself. Asking if she was okay with him was just too pathetic, even for him. She looks at him uncertainly, a frown he recognizes as his own on her face.

“I don’t think I’m okay with any of this, Dean. But… I guess I’ll adjust.”

[ftm-radio]

tw: transphobia, aphobia

I was really close with a friend and then I came out to her as transmasc. She made me promise I wouldn't transition and refused to respect my pronouns, misgendering me at every turn. She listened to every transphobe, agreeing wholeheartedly with healthcare for trans people being banned and trans people being forced out of society. She was "uncomfortable" with me mentioning trans stuff and made me stop talking about that altogether. I hoped it was just shock and she would change.

I came out to her as aroace and she decided it was time to tell me about how I'm "going against my natural predisposition" and I "need to find out whats wrong and get treatment" all the while saying she wasn't trying to invalidate me. I'm just so lost and broken right now.

The worst part is, she's the nicest anyone is about this around me. Mum's a billion times worse, going on about how I need to "get married and have kids" and that I'm broken and need to get fixed.

I'm so done with everything now. I hate my life and every part of it.

Sorry about this. I guess I just wanted to vent to someone. Sorry for wasting your time on this.

anon, please don't think that you're wasting my or anybody else's time by reaching out. never think that. you are not a waste of time or space, and you are allowed to seek help and comfort whenever you need it. fuck whoever told you or made you feel otherwise. 🖤

I am so so sorry that your "friend" and the other people in your life are mistreating you like this.

you deserve better. you are not broken, you do not need to be fixed. nobody else can tell you what is "natural" for you, and they cannot dictate who you are.

if that absolute trashbag of a person claims to be your friend, she should have been supportive and accepting of you from the beginning, but she obviously isn't. you say that she treats you the best out of everyone in your life, and that thought honestly horrifies me. it makes me so deeply angry on your behalf, because the behavior you have described is vile. she sounds like a terrible person to be around, and if I were you I would stay away as much as you can.

It breaks my heart that I can't just snap my fingers and fix this for you. I can't magically pull people's heads outta their asses and make them decent folk. If I could, I would do that for you in a fucking instant, a hundred times over.

because you deserve a life that feels livable. you deserve to have people around you that see you and accept you.

I am so sorry and I am so mad that you don't have that right now.

I know that all I can offer you are words on a screen, but I hope you can take them and have some comfort. it won't always be like this. getting through it won't be easy, but someday you will be away from these people and you will have better people in your life. you have to believe that for yourself, so you can make it happen.

the people in your life right now don't want you to be happy. they'd rather you be miserable than be different than them, and I don't know about you, but I want them to be fucking disappointed. don't let them make you feel bad and lost and hopeless and like you want to give up. be upset, be sad, but most importantly be angry. be furious. be defiant.

stand your ground and keep your chin up, because your new mission in life, should you choose to accept it (and I really hope you do), is to be yourself and be happy, even if it's just to spite those assholes. even if you have to bide your time and wait it out. one day, they won't be able to stop you. one day, you're gonna be free, and they can die mad about it.

[ursbearhug]

🌷💞✨ answer with 3 random facts about yourself, then send this to 10 other people 🌷💞✨

Hi, hello and thank you!

I used to be a giant weeb in my teens, but more so for the vibes (or whatever) than actually liking anime or mango (given that I've watched 7 or 8 titles, maybe). I attended a lot of weeb conventions (12 of them or so) and my first at the ripe old age of 10 I believe. And I even moderated a panel once, with my friend! It was about Elsword in the golden days! Said panel was attended by one jealous incel out of spite; because I dated the girl he wanted to. We both left his stinky-ass guild the following week. He was basic af and I cannot imagine any other way of having sex with him than with something in his mouth and a bag on his head. It's not even about being ugly. It's about being ugly on the inside. He was also homophobic so he was thrice as ugly if you ask me. Now I'm ace and gay and my ex-girlfriend is engaged to a trans guy - suck it bitch. Anyway, yeah. I still have the entrance thing-y with "Dr Aki" as a nickname. I had PhD at the ripe old age of 10. What were you doing with your life?

So I talk a lot about learning English out of spite so maybe now I'll like… Bring the context to this; So in my 1st year of middle school, my English teacher told me I'm not gonna achieve anything in this field because I'm dyslexic and I don't pronounce shit correctly. So I took it upon myself to spit on her face and I started teaching myself by myself; I was reading dictionaries (still do, as a matter of fact, that's a hobby of mine; and according to my favourite greek professor - hers too), watching dozen people speaking English on ytube (usually tried to pick folks of different ethnicities because it's so damn enticing and mesmerising; listening to how different groups speak the same language differently) and so on and so forth. From that year onward, I was finishing every year with the highest possible grade (here, marks go from 1 to 6. With 1 being the lowest, and 6 being the highest - and requiring knowledge beyond the given curriculum) and 3 years later I went to represent my piece of shit worthy high school on English Olympics. It's like a string of tests for nerds. I didn't get really far, to be fair my life was a literal fucking mess at the time, but I got to the 2nd stage (out of 3) and got my ass handed to me by *one* exercise. I can do a lot of shit, but you take letters out of words for me and I'm donezo. I'm pulling the white flag, throwing the towel, tapping out. I can't. So yeah, I'm a machine powered up by spite!

I was a very creative kid in the age bracket of 7 to 14. I was doing pottery classes, drawing classes, I was going to secret club meetings to write stuff. To this day I'm really missing the spark that lived in that little ol' body of mine. Not to be masturbating to my own work but I really loved the style I had back then. My narrative might have sucked from an academic perspective but it was so damn entertaining to read! I made a lot of snarky or interesting commentary in the way I wrote stuff. Some of it is really cringeworthy to read right now; given that my humour has changed a lot, but it just goes to show that kids can be really, really creative. I also had so much time on my hands, because bitch - I was manufacturing love stories like some of the biggest monopolies in this world. Friends to enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, frenemies to frelovers, retellings, original concepts, concepts 'that I thought were original but then I started classical studies', concepts that borderline on copyright theft - you fucking name it. And you know what? Not a single dick in sight. That's right, I was a pure bean even then… I wasn't 2 years later but that's beside the point.

I hope that suffice? Thank you for the ask once again! ^^

[aizawabby]

LILY (m)

Pairing: Yakuza!Tamaki Amajiki x florist! Reader

Plot: your flowers were the one thing you loved the most in your life... well it’s in the top ten so you bet your ass that you would scream at anyone who would dare to ruin and it didn’t matter if the person was the biggest mobster around.

Genre: mafia au, florist au , NSFW 18+

word count: 6k

Warnings: slight sub/dom play, soft dom Tamaki, explicit smut, oral(f), vaginal penetration, creampies, mirror sex, choking, no protection (wrap it before you tap it), light spanking, mentions of sucking dick, multiple orgasms, praising ish, fat cock Tamaki, dirty talk, slight mention of blood (I was listening to auralescent while writing the smut)

Disclaimer: this is my first time writing explicit smut so pls if I didn’t any mistakes or need to improve any where pls let me know! Also the art work above is not mine nor do I own any of the bnha/mha characters.

A/n: hello~ this is my first fic in this blog, I really hope you guys like!! I’ve been planning it since a month and got way to lazy to complete it :(

ko-fi

The hot rays of sun burn your skin as you walk out of your flower shop for the 10th time today to display your flowers letting them get sunlight. Regretting not putting on sunscreen before leaving home, you whipped the sweat off your face and smiled at the aesthetic you created in front of your flower shop.

It truly was beautiful.

Satisfied with your work you were ready to go back into the air conditioned store. As you neared the glass door, a loud thud noise that came from the background making you flinch. Praying as you turned around you hoped that whatever caused that thud had nothing to do with your flowers and it was just the neighbors cat, Ginger, who had once again jumped over the garbage bin and toppled it over.

You sighed in relief when you saw that your flowers were still intact. Just when you were about to go back a man with a white cloak tripped over your vases not paying attention while running ruining all your hard work.

The man laying on the ground looked at your angry face and seemed like he was about to cry, but you didn’t care right now. You were furious, all your hard work has gone to waste just because one person didn’t pay attention to where he was going.

Getting off the ground he noticed how you were about to start to scream at him, quickly got up and started apologizing.

“Look here sir, apologizing isn't going to do shit for my flowers nor is it going to clean up this mess so I suggest you t-” just as you were about to finish your sentence you felt him grip your wrist and pull you into your store.

‘What the hell’ you thought as you looked up at your captive, he pushed you on to a corner wall where no one could see you, his one hand on your mouth keeping you from making any noise while the other was near your head trapping you from the outside world.

If you weren’t being kidnapped in your own store you would’ve been very much aroused by the situation.

Having let your only staff member go on their lunch break, leaing you alone with your captor was not helping your situation either. Even if you scream for help no one would come to your rescue.

Your captor must have felt your gaze as he looked your way and then looked away once again a blush creeping on his cheeks.

What the hell? Why is he blushing

You continued to study his features so that you will be able to memories them in case he decides to do something, only if you were left alive.

damn he’s cute

You watched him as he kept shifting his gaze from you and the window, curious to what he was eyeing, you peered your eyes out the window to see some pro-hero, whose name you couldn't remember, along with some police officers gathered together holding a piece of paper which seemed like a sketch, showing it to civilians that walked past them.

Since your hearing quirk wasn't going to help you get free you thought it might be useful to hear what the heroes were saying.

“Have you seen this man?” one of them asked “please if you do call the police station right away”. The hero held out a picture. It was your capture.

Holy shit

You let out a quiet gasp at the information discovered, your capture hearing the sudden noise turned towards you once again, his gaze unreadable.

He masked his emotions so you wouldn't be able to tell how nervous he was staying within such close proximity with you. Something he learned pretty early, since in his line of work showing any type of emotions was a weakness.

The sweet smell of your perfume that was helping calm his nerves, was making him lose focus on the tasks at hand. Finding an opening to escape without the pros seeing him.

God how did he want to bury his head is the crook of your neck a- his train of thoughts broke as he felt you try to wiggle out of his grasp.

He glared at you, eyes dark and menacing seeding chills to your spine, he was about to lean closer when the pro-hero left their post and started walking towards their new location.

‘That was close’, he thought

He freed your mouth and placed it on the hand on the other side of your head trapping you. “W-who are you?” you managed to say, he looked you in the eye “Suneater,”.

Thank god for the wall that was supporting you because you were sure that you would've fell on the floor because how much your knees had been wobbling out of fear and being so close with this very handsome man who happens to be the biggest mafia leader of Tokyo.

You blankly stared at him as the headlines from several news articles popped in your head about the man holding you captive, opening your mouth to say-no to beg for your life, this is definitely not the way you imagined yourself dying.

“I” you breathe out watching as the man leaves from his spot, freeing you.

‘is he getting some torture weapon? Is this because i screamed at him omg me and my stupid big mouth’ as your mind filled with gruesome thoughts when all of a  sudden cough broke your trans, you whipped your head to the noise almost getting whiplash from the sudden movement.

It was him.

He stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, his head hung low looking at his shoes as if they were much more interesting than you. He rubbed his palms together and was saying something under his breath. It almost seemed like he was...shy

What the hell is up with this guy?

“I… um… i am sorry for that” wide eyed and mouth agape you watched the man who once looked so frightening you nearly passed out from fear was now stumbling on his words as he apologized to you.

‘God i need to talk to my therapist after this, if i get out of this’

He lifted his head, his eyes barely noticeable as they stayed hidden due to the length of his hair. “I… I am s-s-sorry for putting you through this mess. I-it's just because, you see I didn't mean to, it's just that” he paused, he looked as if he were about to cry. What does one do in this situation? Do you go and console him for kidnapping you in your own store?

Confused, you stayed still, scanning him to look for some weapons he can use on you, eyes stopped at his trembling hands.

He’s bleeding

Once again mumbling something under his breath he continued “ you see, some people are looking for me, a-and because of some… things, that's why i ended up bumping into you, i-i didn't mean to knock down your flowers, you see i was just in such a hurry and needed a place to hide that i brought you here” he explained his situation.

He looked back at you waiting for you to respond,

“Are you gonna kill me?” he looked at you even more panicked than before almost like he was disgusted at the sheer thought “oh no no no no” he frantically moved his arms telling you no.

“Good, because i know how to fight” you lied, but seeing how scared he is you began to question whether this man actually was the notorious yakuza you heard about on the news.

Maybe he was the weak twin no one knew about

Your legs finally regained their strength and you leaned off the wall, and walked past Suneater as you disappeared in one of the rooms in the back of your shop.

“Are you coming?” your head peered from the room as you waved your hand at him to come.

‘What are you doing?!? Inviting a yakuza in your safe place’ you thought, while one part of your mind told you to run, the other told you to stay you were conflicted.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard Suneater enter the room, without turning around, you pointed at the chair, “sit” said a little more sternly than you wanted to. Confused at the sudden change in your demeanor, he raised an eyebrow at you, why did you want him here with you when you knew his truth. Anyone with the slightest of common sense would call the police right now, yet you stayed calm.

“Look” you turned around, tiered “ if your not gonna kill me then let me help you with your injury”

‘injury? What injury?’

He looked down at his hand feeling a sting. There was a deep cut, most likely from when he knocked over your flowers ‘oh’ his palm was covered in blood.

He sat down at the designated seat waiting for you, closing his eyes letting the sweet and earthy smell of the flowers fill his nostrils, calming his senses.

                                *     *      *

“Hey did you even listen to a word I said?” Tamaki lifted his head from his palm, “hmm?”. The spiky red head grunted, rubbing his hands on his face tired of his boss being so distracted.

“What’s gotten into you, man?” he questioned, Tamaki innocently looked at him as if he did nothing.

Truth was he was bored, he knew the plan they had went over it a millions of times heck he was the one who made it in the first place.

“Nothing Kirishima, I heard you, ” he said, moving his gaze to where he was looking before, Kirishima followed the direction in which he was looking and spotted you.

You were out in the scorching sun, moving huge pots of flowers around the front of your store.

Grinning he looked back at his superior “why are you looking at me like that” Tamaki said, not liking the way Kirishima smiled at him, he knew something.

“You got a crush don’t ya boss?” Kirishima proceeded to repeatedly poke his bosses arm, annoying him.

“fuck of” Tamaki flustered, turned around avoiding Krishima’s graze, maybe he did have a small crush.

“hey boss” Kirishima scooted his chair closer to Tamaki “after our mission why don’t ya go get her number hmm? Who knows you might even get a date” he said grabbing his bosses shoulder and shaking it as he told him to man up.

                                 *     *      *

He broke out of thoughts feeling the pads of your fingers linger over his palm.

“Is this okay?” you kneeled in front of him, placing the safety kit on your lap concentrating on the task at hand.

“Y-yeah” you looked up, worrying that you might have hurt him accidentally, instead of seeing him wince in pain you were faced with a blushing yakuza.

Not knowing how to react you quickly lower your gaze and continue working on the task at hand.

“You're good at this,” he was the first to speak, breaking the silence.

“Huh, oh yeah i guess,” you let out a nervous laugh, “I used to volunteer as a nurse in hospitals back when I was in college, at one point in my life i wanted to become a doctor or nurse, to help people like pro-heroes did but then i lost interest in the subject and started to like other things so i opened up a flower shop,” you bit your lip realizing you might have over shared, “sorry that was to much wasn't it?” he smiled.

Shaking his head no, he looked at you warmly making you feel weird inside. As the two of you continued to talk, you learned more about him, nothing too personal but enough to make you feel like maybe just maybe you were starting to become friends.

“Alright all done, Tamaki” giving him a bright smile as you got up. He looked at his bandaged hand, smiling “Thank you, Y/n”. He got up from his seat, bidding you goodbye after apologizing for the inconvenience he caused, and walked towards the front door.

“Wait Tamaki!!!” you ran towards the front door hoping he hadn't left already, opening the door you called out for him once again, he stops and turns to look at you, confused as to why you called him.

“Y/n? What happened, are you okay?” he waited for you to catch your breath “yeah i'm fine i just,, i wanted to give you something” the tips of your ear started to burn as you felt a blush creep in, you handed him a purple lily.

Dumbstruck at the present he stayed quiet, smiling shyly as he reached for the purple flower, his fingers grazing you for a second, blushing he thanked you for the gift “ but why?” he asked, finally gaining the confidence to look at you.

You were smiling softly, a light blush spread on your cheeks “it reminded me of you,” you looked at him “and it's pretty like you” you said mentally cursing at yourself for voicing your inner thoughts, and for blushing harder.

Before the tomato looking man could say anything else, you ran back into your shop waving him goodbye.

                                  *     *      *  

Six months ago today, you were ‘kidnapped’ by the notorious Suneater. Your life hasn’t changed much since, you still wake up everyday at 8 am, you still drink the same type of coffee, and you still come back home at 8 pm.

But there was one thing that was significantly different, everyday at noon Tamaki would present himself in front of your store.

At first, it started with him coming to your shop, waiting outside debating whether he was coming in or not.

You would stay in the back of your cash register, listening to him mumbling to himself “common just go say hi that’s all you can do! Common just like you did with kirishima” you giggled.

But without a word he would leave. Disappointed you waited for the next day, maybe then he’ll talk to you.

The next week, he finally came in the store, (with the push of a spiky redhead) he wandered around before picking up a single rose, and came to the cash.

Ever since that day, he started to come more often and stayed longer talking to you about everything and nothing.

Slowly, his visits at the store became more constant just like his presence in your life.

“Are you here to buy something or to see me?” you winked at him going in the store, leaving a flustered indigo haired man behind.

He followed you inside, taking a deep breath calming his racing heart.

“Do you like me?” you asked casually as you picked up boxes from the front desk. Eyes wide Tamaki looked at you and gulps nervously before speaking “I-um I...w-well actually”

‘Fuck was I that obvious?’ He mentally screams at himself.

You laugh at his panicked expression “I’m just kiddin Tama, you don’t need to worry, come on help me with these boxes” you say grabbing his hand drawing circles trying to calm him, but it didn’t. It made him even more red and made his heart beat so fast he thought it was going to come out of his chest.

And sometime along the way, you had begun to fall for him too.

                                 *     *      *

Breaking you out of your day dream you felt a strong grip on your shoulder, you grabbed the intruders hand and twisting your body as fast you could ready to attack.

You lowered your hard after seeing your crush.

“Not bad, Y/n” he showed you the bag of food he was holding “you’ve improved I’m impressed” Tamaki said pressing his hand on your lower back pushing you towards the front door of your apartment complex.

Oh yeah you had also started to take self defense lessons from Tamaki once he found out about your bluff about knowing how to fight. From that day he took it upon himself to teach you how to defend yourself in case you were abducted by another Yakuza.

“Didn’t you have a meeting today with the Kyoto group?” you opened the door to your small apartment where you guys would often hang out “how did it go” you asked taking off your shoes.

“It was alright i guess, they wanted to make a deal” he spoke calmly and went to set the table for the two of you. You hummed at his answer without further questioning him because nothing good ever comes with dealing with the Mafia.

The two of you silently enjoyed the Takoyaki brought by Tamaki.

“Can you pass me a napkin?” you observed as he manifested a tentacle thanks to his quirk and handed you a napkin.

“Hey Tama” you rested your chopstsicks on your place, resting your head on your palm looking at him as he was midway of putting an octopus ball into his mouth, he hummed in response telling you to continue.

“With your quirk you can manifest everything you eat right?” nodding he put another ball into his mouth “so can you…” you wiggled in your seat regretting what you were about to ask, but you needed an answer it was a question that kept you up during many sleepless nights.

Confused at your sudden shyness he lifted an eyebrow at you, this was very out of character for you since you were usually pretty blunt “c-can you make your semen taste like chocolate?”

Tamaki choked on his food, spitting it out looking at you with a horrified face, you scoot closer to him waiting for his answer. Unable to look at you in the eyes he raised his head looking at the ceiling rubbing his hands on his face trying to calm the rush of heat he was feeling. “Taaaammmakii” you whined, tugging on his arm like a child begging him to answer you, he looked at you opening his mouth but then closing it going beet red.

“Ohhh did you do it” you giggled as he blushed even harder and hid his face in his hands and you laughed harder.

                                 *     *      *

“what are we watching tonight?” Tamaki walked into your living dressed in gray sweatpants and a black shirt sitting on your sofa, poking you with his left foot.

It wasn’t often that you got to see Tamaki dress so casually due to his job most of the time he would wear expensive suits (which made him look very hot) but there was something about him dressing down that made your heart flutter.

It was nights like these you loved the most, nights when you do nothing but stay up all night watching movies still you passed out cuddling against Tamaki.

“hmm I don’t know” pouting as you looked through your nail polish wondering which color you should paint them next. Tamaki smiled and pointed towards the purple bottle.

“Then how about” he scanned through the list of shows and movies “this” he said finally stopping at Avatar the last air bender.

While one would expect Tamaki’s attention to be at the screen in front of him watching the show he picked out it wasn’t. He was much more interested watching you paint your nails. He watched as you stuck your tongue out while concentrating on not to make a mess.

She’s so cute

“didn’t you go for lunch with your friends today?” He asked his eyes glued to the tv, mouth slightly agape.

“oh yeah I did, it was fun” he hummed and laughed at something Soka said. “My friends kept asking me if we’re together yet” you laughed at the memory of your friends teasing to finally confess your feelings for the man.

“then why don’t we” not paying attention to what he was saying he continued to watch tv.

Wide eyed he looked at you when it finally hit him you looked back at him in shock from the sudden confession“i ..i mean if you want you haha” he panicked.

Grinning as you got up from your spot on the floor you climbed onto his lap. Tamaki’s face burned a deep shade of red as he tried his hardest to sink his head into the couch wanting it to swallow him whole.

“Hey tama look at me” you brought a hand to his cheeks caressing it softly, making him look at you as you leaned onto him giving him a kiss.

“I like you” he breathes out as you pull away from the kiss smiling at each other “will you go out with me?”.

You rest your forehead on his, catching your breath you nod “yes I will” he holds you tighter holding your body next to his never wanting to let you go.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers, his lips brushing up against yours, you nod “i'll be mad if you didn't”

He captured your lips in a delicate kiss. The kiss slowly escalated, becoming more rough as he pushed his tongue in your mouth. His wet muscle exploring every nook of your mouth as you submit to him, soft moans erupt from your throat as he grabs your boob giving it a squeeze.

“Oh fuck” he moans grabbing your hips pressing it harder on his crotch as you continued to grind against him.

“Someone’s excited” you smirk against his neck making it, as you grab his clothed dick gasping at size. He was big.

Stopping your movements, he stared into your eyes softly, his hand coming to caresses your face “ are you okay with this if not we don’t need to go further” he reassured. Smiling, you took his hand and kissed it, “I want it Tamaki, I want you.”

He pulled your shirt over your head throwing somewhere in the room, eyes lingering on the lace white bra. His hand was quick to go back on your breast, squeezing it with such an eagerness that just made you wetter by seconds. Taking off the bra, he grabbed your left tit. Soon, your nipple was engulfed by his mouth, he eagerly sucked it letting the tip of his tongue roll around, making you release another moan as you grab his hair pulling him up attaching his lips with yours.

Tamaki’s tongue was back in you, eyes closed as he enjoyed the warm and sweetness of your mouth. He held your hips, lifting you up heading towards your bedroom.

Amajiki hovered over you, smiling softly, he leaned in sealing lips with yours; peppering your skin with his soft kisses and marking you all the way to your breast. His hand finally finding the soft flesh, he gave it a squeeze as his lips came in contact with your areola, you let a breathy moan as his tongue worked on teasing your erect nipples while his other hand massaged the other in pleasurable manner.

He lifted his head from your chest, leaving a trail of kisses all the way to your aching core. Spreading your thighs open, kissing the soft flesh slowly, he teasingly nips at your inner thigh marking you, ignoring the place you wanted him the most.

You grind your hips in the air, hoping it will get his attention, you whimper as he rubs circles on your clit over your underwear finally feeling some relief, you feel the cold air hit your wet core as he slides it off your legs.

“You’re so wet, bunny” he hummed in approval as he twirled his finger in your wetness, content that he was able to make you feel this good. “I bet you taste good too ” he murmures, his eyes darkening with lust, he props your legs into his wide shoulder.

Unable to wait any longer to taste you, he lowered his face to your folds, the feeling of his mouth on your lips, moaning as you pulled his hair telling him to continue. He moaned into you sending vibration to your core, he squeezed your thighs to signal that he understood, he ran his tongue along your dripping slit and plunged his tongue past you lips and shallowly thrusting it inside until he was lapping up your juices with fervor while you arched your back as you moaned his name “you taste so fucking good, bunny” he moaned as he grinned his hips on the mattrest revealing his arousal.

Addicted to the slight bitter but sweet taste that he continued to eat you with more force.

“Ohhhh fuck fuck fuck” your legs trembled.

He knew you were close, slowly he slipped the first finger in, your walls warm and welcoming clenched his finger as he pumped it in, adding another right after. His mouth finding your clit, sucking the sensitive bud, sending pleasure coursing through your body.

“A-amajiki don’t stop” your toes curl at the sensation of his fingers curling inside you, you breathlessly moan your mind going blank as pleasure takes over. Pulling on his hair as his mouth works on your clit while his fingers work their magic, overwhelmed by the pleasure you felt from your lower stomach tightening, “Amajiki… i'm gonna-” before you can finish your sentence you feel the third finger slid in, you roll your eyes back feeling your walls stretch “Oh god, Tamaki”

Tamaki grinds his hips harder at the sounds coming out of your lips, his rock hard cock twitch in sweatpants “fuck” he groaned into your heat fingers slicked with your juices as he worked them in and out of you and lapped your sweet juices with his tongue “I love when you say my name,”.

“T-tama” you moaned bucking your hips on his face in search of release. Only a few moments later you came hard, with his face between your thighs and into his mouth. Your vision blurred as felt Tamaki continue to eat out even after cuming so hard. “Amajiki” you tried to get out of his grasp telling him that you’re too sensitive, he didn't move. He stayed there till you felt another wave of pleaser hit and you came into his mouth.

You were panting hard, your chest rising and falling as you felt euphoria, you watched Amajiki get up from his position between your thighs, get up to kiss you, you tasted yourself on his lips moaning as you felt his boner poking your inner thigh.

He pulls away from the kiss, whining at the loss of contact eyes following him as he gets off the bed. You watch him as he takes off his sweatpants revealing his black boxers which had a wet patch at the tip of his dick, drooling at the outline of his fat cock you imagined having it in your mouth fucking your troat till you became sore.

You get on your knees and start to crawl to where Tamaki was standing, pulling his briefs down until you were met with his painfully erect cock. Licking your lips you looked at him “can i suck your dick” he grabs your chin giving you a peck on the lips “sure, but not now” he says as he backs you up on the bed, laying you down as he starts to nip at your jaw “i wanna be inside you first” he whispers in your ear.

Tamaki separates your legs with his knee, placing himself between your thighs, stroking his dick as he brushes the head of his cock your wet centre. “Amaji-ah” you feel his tip rub against your entrance, but then backing away with flushed cheeks “baby… do you have any condoms” he rubs the back of his neck. It was moments like these where you would question how this man was a mafia leader.

Wrapping your arms around his neck you pull him on top of you kissing him, “its okay im on the pill” you say kissing his face. He aligned himself with your dripping core, his length sliding against your folds and getting coated by your arousal. You shudder, hearing him grunt as he inserts his tip in, stretching you out. He then thrust his length in you, grunting as he felt your wall squeeze around him, once completely in he stayed still letting you adjust to his size, since he was on the bigger side.

You moaned, biting his shoulder as you felt him stretch out your walls, you felt full. “ oh no baby are you okay?” Tamaki cooed still inside of you as he whipped tears from your face “should we stop? Does it hurt?” It wasn't the first time that he had to pull out because he was too big during sex, as he got ready to pull out, you wrapped your legs around his waist kepping him in place “Tama i-its okay, it doesnt hurt, you’re just big” you kiss his cheeks giving him a okay to move as you grip his shoulders” as he slowly began to move.

“Fuck youre so tight baby, you feel so f-fucking good” he let out a groan thrusting even deeper in you.

“Holy shit, your pussy feels so good” he moans in your mouth, picking up the pace. Your mouth drops open and you watch his brow furrow as he slips deeper into you, and fills you up. He continues to push until he finally bottoms out, he pants out a heavy breath that he's been holding out. Your eyes flutter but you fight to keep them open, and your arms wrap around his torso to grip his back.

“oh god Amajik” you moan, hips moving to match his thrust “feels so good”

“Yeah?” he pants out, moving at a steady pace, and you nod in response.

Admiring how he looks on top you, lips pink and swollen from your kisses parted as soft moans and grunts pass them. His eyes dark, looking at you with insatiable hunger that told you that he was holding back.

“Amajiki harder” you whimper, “fuck me harder.”

He pauses for a second, studying your face to make sure he was hearing this well. His breath stuttered before he let out a shaky breath.Then his hands gripped your hips in a bruising hold and he started snapping his hips as hard as he could into yours.

Your eyes roll back at the force of his hips slapping against yours. His nails dug into your supple skin and it stung but you didn’t bother to care because the feeling of him stroking along your sensitive walls was too overwhelming.

“Fuck baby” he gruffly let’s put “you’re making me feel so good”

Clenching around his words, you feel more of your juices coating him as he fucks you harder into the mattress.

“You like it?” he pants “ is my cock making you feel good, baby”

You nod. You couldn’t speak properly, not with the way his hips seemed to increase their speed and hit you deeper with each thrust.

“Use your words, bunny” he grunts into your ear. He releases your hips in favor of gripping your thighs, pausing to shift onto his knees and have a better handle of you and angle his hips just right. “You love it don’t you? You love it when I fuck you with my cock?”

“Yes” you moan “i love it, i love your cock”

“Your close aren’t you? I can feel the way you keep clenching around my cock,”

“Oh god I’m close tama, don’t stop” you say when the thrust abruptly stops when he pulls out of you, and you whimper in shock and desperation. But he doesn’t allow you a second to question him before he’s gripping your hips and flipping you onto your stomach lifting your ass up. He spanks your ass and you squeal in surprise but it morphs into a moan when he shifts your hips to position himself behind you properly. He’s slipping inside you with ease, and you’re back where you left off.

Trailing a hand from your back, all the way to your head he gripped your hair, pulling your head back to capture lips with his.

His mouth on your neck kissing his way to your ear, nibbling on it before he continued spewing filthy phrases in your ear that had you whining in blinding pleasure.

“You're taking it so well, baby. Now be a good girl and cum on my cock” he pants in your ear.

His hand finds your engorged clit, rubbing vigorously as he snapped his hips faster. Your mouth dropped open but no sounds came out, your voice was gone as you felt the pleasure rapidly increasing and the heat in your tummy growing larger and larger until it finally exploded.

“oh tamaki” you moaned “ fuck, I’m cumming.” You called out his name breathlessly as if it was a mantra as you felt yourself come undone all over him.

Amajiki groaned, fucking you through your orgasm, chasing after his own. After a few deep thrusts he stops and gripping your hips as he feels himself shooting his release in you.

He stays inside for a while and you feel him kiss on your along your spine, whispering soft nothings. He pulls out leaving you feeling empty.

Unable to move your body, you let yourself fall into the mattress resting your head on your pillow.

“Tired” you hear tamaki leaning against the headboard of your bed. He pulls your limp body making you hover over his lap, your back against his chest “but i'm not done with you baby” he bites your shoulder, rubbing the head of his cock on your entrance lubricating it with both of your juices.

“Yeah that’s right watch yourself as I fuck you” he says starring right at you through the mirror. You watched him as he slipped himself inside you with ease.

He held your hips keeping you in place as you watched his length disappear in you with each hard thrust.

“Oh my god” your moan feeling the tip of his cock hitting your g-spot. “Are you gonna cum baby?” Amajiki grunts going faster, you nod grabbing his thighs to help you steady as you start to move your hips to match his pace as you feel your 4th orgasm approach.

“Look at you bouncing on my dick like a good little slut” he growled in your ear, his hands wrapped around your throat choking you “come for me slut” with a couple more thrust both of you came undone.

Breathing heavily as you calmed from your high, you got off his lap and sat beside him leaning on the headboard.

You looked ahead seeing both of your reflections in the mirror; cheeks flushed and swollen lips.

Tamaki turned towards you smiling as he caressed your face leaning for a kiss.

“You're amazing, you know that?” you smiled at him, finding him adorable in his fucked out state.

“So are you,” you said, returning the kiss.

Tamaki gets off the bed and goes to the bathroom to get something to clean both of you up. You manage to keep your eyes open, smiling as you see Tamaki’s naked butt as he leaves the room. Reaching out your hand imagining to squish it.

You close your eyes letting the sleep take you over when you something cold on your inner thighs opening your eyes only to see Tamaki cleaning you off.

You feel the bed dip from Tamaki’s weight, you turn around laying on your back facing your lover. Smiling at him you wrap your arms around him and bury your head in the crook of his neck inhaling his sent mixed with sweat and sex.

“You're gonna be sore tomorrow” he places a kiss on the crown of your head “don't blame me for it though it was you who wanted it” he tries to mimic your moans from earlier. “Shut up” you say playfully slapping his chest he let out a low chuckles holding you tighter ready to let sleep take over.

[retrievablememories]

afterdeath | lucas

title: afterdeath pairing: vampire!lucas x fairy!reader genre: angst, forbidden romance, fantasy, vampire!au request: May I request a Vampire!Lucas with a fairy!s/o (Forbidden romance perhaps?) word count: 8.6k warnings: descriptions of death and sickness, mentions of a funeral, viewing, and funerary preparations, major character death (but...with a slight twist), mentions of blood and drinking blood, smoking cigarettes, arguments/conflict, mentions of physical violence, some romeo and juliet elements? a/n: hmm this fic probably could’ve been more detailed but i was trying to avoid triggering my own damn self with so much talk of death...ha...not sure why i went this route but i wanted a forbidden romance with an actual decent ending for both characters and this was the first idea i had recommended songs: OLLA - jhené aiko

Year 1508

“We’ve felled the demon!”

“Indeed, we have!”

Cheers ring through the dawn as a large group of fairies dance around an immense bonfire, raising their shouts of celebration to the sky. Within the fire burns the body of the Primitiva Vampire, the One and Only Pureblood, haphazardly thrown over the wood pile and relieved of her head—which sits near the bottom of the burning mass of wood, her face still twisted in a mien of anger.

As the sky begins turning lighter with the onset of sunrise, the fairies continue their celebration, staying close to the fire all the while. They carry large flaming torches to guard against any of the Primitiva Vampire’s followers who might try to sneak upon them and strike in that sliver of space where the sun has yet to rise.

The Primitiva Vampire had a long reign of terrorizing fairies and turning humans and other supernatural creatures into vampires. Each transformed being became a terrible revenant, one which viciously hunted villages and stole into people’s homes for more blood, more death, and more unwilling adherents to the vampiric cult.

Mass numbers of fairies had been decimated once the vampires first tasted their blood and took a unique liking to it. For over 200 years, the carnage continued on at the hand of the Primitiva Vampire, who had one day blinked into existence in a way that could never really be explained by any conceivable means, either human or magic. And without ever giving a hint to her strange conception, she tore across cities and towns, converting others into night creatures like herself and building a loyal following of half-bedeviled beings.

When fairy populations had dwindled to nearly extinction-level quantities, they were left no other choice—fight back or be wiped completely from the universe’s ledger. So they took up arms, honed their magic skills, and did just that.

And now, all their efforts culminate in this blood-stained morning. It marks a much-anticipated moment of revelry before they have to return to their posts to watch for the night creatures inevitably waiting on the other side of the sunset, ready to avenge their slain Goddess.

Present Day

“You probably shouldn’t be here right now.”

“I wanted to come,” Lucas replies, taking your hand is his large one. “I wanted to see you.”

“I can figure that.” You laugh quietly, a little afraid to let your voice rise higher in case it carries too far. “But that doesn’t mean you should’ve come.”

Lucas holds your hand tightly. His skin is cold against yours due to his slow blood, and colder still from the chill permeating the air. It’s only one of many vampiric traits that the other fairies would think of as strange or barbaric, but you don’t see it that way. The chilliness just reminds you solely of him.

“Well, I missed you. And I’m here now, so you’ll just have to deal with me.”

The building you’re standing behind is damp, old, and dilapidated, and it’s not even one of your pre-designated meeting places. In front of you is a rusted chain link fence, which barricades a field of tall and unkempt grass. More aged and crumbling buildings scatter themselves across the distance, taken over by grass and climbing vines.

You don’t know what’s out here. This is one place within your district you haven’t been to before. It was Lucas’s idea to come here, after your last meeting place had nearly been discovered and he found it too risky to keep going there.

The entire city of Beijing is split up into different districts, each belonging to a different faction of supernatural beings. Some nonhuman races have close ties with each other and allow frequent cross-district mingling; others are sworn enemies, forbidden to fraternize with each other under pain of death. In these latter cases, crossing into another’s territory without express permission—or in rare situations, ties to a powerful ally (or allies) on the other side—is asking to get arrested, injured, or worse.

Lucas would be your tie to the vampire side and you his tie to the fairy side if your species weren’t centuries-long enemies. Instead, you’re relegated to having him sneak in and out of your district and hide what he is with blood-scent blockers and eye contacts to make the trickery easier to get away with. There’s only so much you can do to disguise your fae nature; stepping into vampire territory would turn you into a shining beacon.

“Hmm…” you sigh, shaking your head with a small smile on your face. You grasp Lucas’s hand so you’re now holding it with both of yours. “How long do you think we can keep this up? Going from place to place like this. Hiding like criminals.”

Lucas gives a lopsided grin—one that cannot morph into a full smile because of the sadness coloring it. “I don’t know. Forever, if we’re lucky.” He chuckles.

You stare at your intertwined hands, unaware of the sheer intensity of the longing expression on your face, though Lucas sees it clearly. It threatens to burn his heart to ash. “Unfortunately, fae don’t live forever like you do, so maybe not. Besides, your people would probably find out and come after me before we could even settle into a ‘forever.’”

He shakes his head fretfully at your words, squeezing your hand. “Do we have to talk about all that now? You know we don’t have much time together. Let’s just enjoy it for what it is.” Lucas pulls you into him, tucking your head into his shoulder.

“That’s fine by me,” you say, and resist the urge to make some dark joke about how scandalous it is for a fairy to have their neck so close to a vampire’s mouth—or a vampire’s anything.

You both stay together in that dingy and old spot for a while, talking in the dark until he tells you he has to go. He follows you the whole way back home to ensure you’re safe, keeping to the shadows until he sees you disappear past your front door. Then, he slips away again to head back to the familiar manor in his own district.

It’s nearly morning when Lucas gets back to the large house he shares with the other six men. By this time of day, he knows they will either be in bed or getting ready to turn in.

“Still visiting that fairy, I see.”

The unexpected voice doesn’t scare Lucas, but it does make his body tense up a bit in irritation and a slight sense of anticipation. He sighs and stops in his tracks on the way to his room, though he doesn’t face the clan leader just yet.

“Is that a problem? Because you know I’m not going to stop.”

Kun makes a noise of disbelief. “Of course it is. You know what the consequences are if anyone outside of us finds out.” Lucas turns to him slightly, and the look on Kun’s face is more disappointment—maybe even slight fear?—than anger. “I clearly can’t stop you from doing what you want to, but I can’t help you if the Association gets involved.”

Lucas rocks back on his heels and sighs, rolling his eyes at the mention of the vampire organization. “Fuck the Association. They’re nothing but a bunch of old ass hags who have no purpose in their lives other than ruling over every other vampire in the world.”

Kun looks weary at his words. “You really don’t care, do you, Xuxi. They’d have your heart on a stake if they ever heard that.” He pauses and rolls his eyes. “They’re also not that much older than me, so I wonder who you’re calling an ‘old ass hag’...”

“Isn’t it a good thing that they won’t hear it, then?” Lucas laughs, but it’s not an entirely humorous sound, and he gives Kun a searching look as his chuckles die off.

“Don’t look at me like that. I have no interest in telling them anything, mostly because I also have no interest in our whole clan being wiped out.”

Lucas nods, reaffirming his somewhat shaky but still present trust in Kun, needing the regular reassurances for his own calm. He stretches his arms above his head and takes a few steps like he’ll go to his room, though he doesn’t move to leave just yet. “Just don’t see what the big deal about all this is. All this over some ancient bloodsucker who died like 500 years ago...who cares.”

Kun winces again, though he doesn’t bother with reprimanding Lucas this time; he only shakes his head and sighs heavily like it’s already a lost cause. “A vampire and a fairy together is more than blasphemy—it’s ridiculous. It’s illogical. They all think we’re bloodsucking demons hellbent on killing them.”

“To be fair, there’s definitely a sect of vampire zealots or two who are trying to do exactly that despite the laws.”

Kun sighs. Lucas is right; what can he say to argue that? “Xuxi…”

“I’m telling you I’ll be fine, Kun-ge. You don’t need to worry about me and Y/N. Things have been going fine for this long.” Lucas nods, then heads off to his room for real this time. Kun watches him leave, feeling a lot less reassured than the younger man.

Ten takes Xiaojun and Lucas on one of their weekly outings to a blood lounge. Blood lounges are an easy and accessible way for vampires to get blood, though the legalities of this practice are a little muddy. Before getting with you, Lucas didn’t mind drinking straight from the source—going to one of the back rooms and sucking some willing, vulnerable being just to the point of death—but now, it feels like a type of transgression. Drinking someone else’s blood can be an intensely intimate act, on the same level as sex depending on the context, and he doesn’t want to do anything to make you think he’d be unfaithful.

To his fortune, there is no club rule about having to feed off other beings; many vampires take their blood in fancy champagne glasses, just like drinks in a human club. He does that now as the three men sit in a darkly lit booth.

Their conversation is unexciting for a while, with Lucas keeping careful not to mention you or any of his recent visits to your district to avoid any prying ears in the lounge. However, things soon get interesting. “We all know how Renjun got taken off the Association’s Registry a year ago, right?” Ten asks suddenly.

“Yes, of course.” Xiaojun answers like he’s already bored of this turn in the conversation. “That’s what happens whenever a vampire dies.”

Ten nods, but his eyes are wide like he has a secret he’s itching to tell. “But I don’t think he actually died.”

Lucas’s ears perk up at that.

“Why?” Xiaojun asks.

“He was seeing that human before he supposedly died, you know—”

“The one who lost it and drove the stake in his heart? We all know how it happened—”

“Can you let me finish? Anyway, I’ve heard some...suggestions that he faked his death—that maybe he got a magic user to set the whole crime scene up and make it look like it was real. Illusory magic, or something like that.”

Xiaojun sits forward. “A magic user. As in a fairy? Or a witch? Who?”

“I don’t know, just someone who uses magic. People are starting to think he and the human faked it all and ran away to Tianjin. I heard someone even claimed they saw somebody who resembled him when they went to Tianjin recently, though I don’t know how true that is…”

Xiaojun’s interest is thoroughly engaged now. “Think the Association will go looking for him, if it's true?”

“I don’t know if they’d care enough to hunt down an unregistered vampire who’s laying low and not creating chaos with other citizens. We all know Tianjin is way more relaxed about inter-species relationships, too. But the Association doesn’t like looking stupid. And that kind of trick definitely makes them look stupid.”

Lucas sits back, taking all of this information in. He is uncharacteristically quiet, but he doesn’t know what to make of that situation or why Ten is telling them about it. He thinks he can guess why, though, by the way Ten’s gaze lingers on him, and that scares him a little. The way this rumor piques a forbidden interest in him scares him. Lucas lifts the glass of blood to his lips and drinks from it, trying to distract himself from the current conversation.

“All this for a damn human. Only an idiot would try something like that,” Xiaojun says, shaking his head.

“Maybe a smart one. It did get him off the Registry.”

“How can you be a smart idiot?!” Ten and Xiaojun start arguing over the semantics of the term, and Lucas watches them in amusement, though his mind remains in two different places for the rest of their time in the blood lounge.

—

Later that night when they are back at the manor, Lucas pulls Ten aside, just like the older man expected him to.

“What’s wrong?” Ten asks, though his expression shows he already knows exactly what’s the matter.

“You...the stuff you said about Renjun earlier. I…” Lucas doesn’t know how to start or break his idea to him softly, so he decides to just say it. “Is it really possible?”

“I think it’s possible. It wouldn’t be the first time someone tried to get off the Registry…though many other attempts were way less successful.” Then Ten hesitates before saying, “You could try it.”

“Are you serious?”

“I am.” Ten’s expression softens a little. “I know you and Y/N love each other a lot, but there’s no way the Association will ever let you stay together if they find out. Y/N’s life could actually be in danger. Both of you are, every moment you spend together while living in these districts. If you really want to stay with Y/N, then…”

“...But I wouldn’t be able to see any of you again.” You and Lucas have become so entwined with one another that he can hardly imagine a life without you, but he also finds it difficult to picture his existence without his brothers. They’ve become like blood family to him over the last couple centuries.

“Yeah.” Ten sighs deeply, and although his reply is short, Lucas knows that one word is carrying the weight of all of his stress and sorrow about the idea. “Maybe we could find a way to visit you sometimes. Get the fairies or witches to do some of their magicky shit.” Ten laughs quietly. “But...it’s still just an idea. You don’t have to do it.”

Lucas shakes his head slowly. He wants to put the idea to bed and try to continue on with his life, managing his clandestine visits to your district when he can. But now that he knows of an alternative way, no matter how unreasonable or unbelievable it is, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to forget about it. “Kun-ge is going to kill you once he finds out this was your suggestion. You know that, right?”

Ten shrugs, and the sadness lifts momentarily in the curve of his lips. “He can try.”

The next time you and Lucas meet up, it’s in yet another different place under an ancient and mostly abandoned bridge. As a precaution, you stand together underneath the darkness of the bridge and stay out of sight, though there are few chances of anyone being around to see you in the first place.

He has to muster up the courage to tell you of his idea, unsure of how you’ll react or what you’ll think of it. It’s a lot to ask of you. Your kinships and friendships are not as extensive as his, only having a brother and two cousins left in the world, but he doesn’t know if he could ever ask you to leave them behind like this. Or if he could shake off the guilt that would remain from it.

“There might be a way for us to change things…” Lucas starts, skipping the build-up because he knows it would take him forever to think of something appropriate to say. “But I don’t know if you’ll like it.”

“Change things?” You glance at him curiously. You wish you could see the deep red of his irises, but they are hidden behind his brown contacts. “As in, with us?”

“Yes. So that maybe we wouldn’t have to sneak around anymore. Or at least...not sneak around as much as we do now.”

“What is it?” you ask. Despite yourself, your wings flutter against your back as wonder and excitement rise in your chest. You and Lucas have waxed poetic many times before about how you wish things could be different; and neither of you have ever been able to come up with a workable plan. But now, his claim that maybe something is possible has you dangerously curious.

“Taking myself off the Registry. I could basically just...disappear. The Association can’t harm what technically no longer exists.”

You stare at him in confusion. “But you can’t do that, right? Only under special circumstances…”

Lucas sees the question in your eyes and nods. “Right. Like if I die…” You flinch, shaking your head immediately. “...or pretend I’ve died.” This makes you pause, not expecting to hear something like that come from him.

“Pretend...you’ve died. Faking your own death?”

“I know it sounds crazy, but...there’s another vampire who we think has done it before. And...it worked. Supposedly.”

You shake your head again, but you turn the idea over in your mind. “How would you even do that? Someone would have to know you’re not really dead. That can’t be as easy as it sounds...”

Lucas swallows hard. “I know, it doesn’t, but maybe if we plan it right...I think we could pull this off. Some of the others...already know about it.” Only Ten, really, but that’ll inevitably change soon.

Your heart is hammering in your chest just thinking about this plan—the small, undefined plan that it is—and you’re unsure how to approach it. “If we leave under those circumstances, we can’t come back here to Beijing. Which means we won’t see anyone else again, our families and friends...”

“You understand that.” Lucas’s voice comes out strained.

You sigh, wringing your hands. “I do.”

Lucas hangs his head, closing his eyes tightly. “It’s too much to ask of you. We can just forget about this, really. I know sneaking around has been difficult, and I just—”

“I never said I wouldn’t agree to it,” you say softly, interrupting him before he can begin deriding himself about the idea.

Lucas’s head perks up again, and you both look at each other for a long moment. A cold night breeze flows through your clothes and rustles your wings, which remain tucked close against your back.

“Just think of it as leaving the nest, I guess,” you say, though there are tears welling in your eyes. “Growing up and making a life for ourselves. We can do that...right?”

Lucas bites his lip and closes his eyelids to stave off the tears trying to form in his own eyes. “Yeah. We can do that. Even if it’s a bit...unconventional.”

You nod hurriedly, wiping your eyes with the backs of your hands before any more tears can make their way out. “If you really want to do this, then we need to visit my brother.”

—

Your brother is predictably not thrilled about the idea. He likes Lucas well enough, but he’s never been very good at hiding his skepticism about your relationship. Though he would never say this to you directly, he never expected your relationship to make it past a few months; and yet it’s been a year and a half since you and Lucas started seeing each other. Maybe he’d be glad about your relationship’s stability if your partner was anyone other than a vampire. Alas, he instead spends all his time stressing over whether either of you will be found out at any moment’s notice.

“You’re playing with fire,” your brother says as he sits down at his desk within his apothecary office. He shakes his head the entire time, but he rifles through his collection of books on magic anyway. If there is anyone who knows a potion or spell that could work for this scheme and would actually be willing to keep it all secret, it’s your brother.

“I know that, Aldriel.” You cross your arms, sighing impatiently at your brother’s continuous reprimands since you’ve stepped through his door. “That’s why we came to you. You’re one of the best magic wielders and potionists around.”

“Oh, I’m well aware. No need to blow smoke up my ass,” Aldriel replies, never one to let a moment to brag slip away. He continues flipping through his book fast enough to make the words on the pages blur, his brow creased with focus. He is paying attention to the words and pictures on the pages, though you also know him well enough to realize this is him trying to distract himself from the many thoughts that must be crowding his brain.

“Don’t be so worried about it,” you say, trying to speak against the lump that’s suddenly forming in your throat. “You’ve always complained about wanting me out of your hair, anyway.”

Aldriel pauses in flipping through his spell book to look directly at you now, his brows creased even further and his face creating a visage of bitter desperation. “Not like this.”

Sighing, you turn away from him and let him go back to his textbook, knowing you’d probably start to cry if you look at him any longer. And who knows what will happen once that begins.

You go back to Lucas, who is sitting in the other room with his face turned to the window. It is nighttime and the blinds are closed, so you know he’s not looking at anything in particular. His mind must be similarly preoccupied.

“You okay?” you ask, touching his arm.

“Fine,” he answers, though he doesn’t turn to you. He just grasps your hand where it slides down to his own, gripping your fingers tightly. “As fine as I can be in this situation, I guess.”

You sit down in front of Lucas on the floor’s intricately decorated rug, resting your head against his knee. “It’ll be okay.” You aren’t sure of the words when they leave your lips, but you have to believe in them or else all will be lost.

—

You both spend a few hours at Aldriel’s place. At one point, you try to prod Lucas into going back to his clan to avoid raising suspicions for being gone too long—you can just get the potion to him some other day—but he insists it’ll be easier for him to stay and receive the potion now.

Finally, in the hour before dawn, your brother’s door opens and he steps through. “It’s ready.”

Both you and Lucas come alert at that, and you step back into Aldriel’s apothecary to see what he’s developed.

“This is an advanced death glamor potion,” your brother says, holding up a small glass bottle. “It contains a magic incantation that will leave you dead for a week and only a week. Seven days. Your body will remain in perfect stasis, so there’s no risk of the regular side effects that come with death.”

“A week?” you repeat, nervousness coursing through your body. Lucas looks equally apprehensive, and he squeezes your hand tighter.

Aldriel nods, pushing his glasses further up his nose. “That should be enough time to take care of the funeral arrangements and make everyone else think you’ve passed.” He says the last bit while gesturing to Lucas. “I’m not super clear on how vampire funerary customs work, though, so—”

Lucas nods. “No, it’ll work. That’s enough time.”

Your brother’s mouth creases into a thin line. “Good.” He passes the vial to Lucas, makes an expression like he might say something else, and then shakes his head, glancing to you instead. “You plan to go to Tianjin, right?”

“That’s right,” you say quietly.

“You’ll need to find a place to stay, then, until you can get one of your own. And I think we both know exactly where that will be.”

The potion works just as Aldriel said it would. It’s hard to know whether to be dismayed or relieved about this, though the former emotion quickly wins out with everyone.

Lucas takes it a week after meeting with your brother and procuring all the necessary fake documents, claiming it’s best not to wait any longer for it. You feel apprehensive about doing it so soon; or maybe you just want to stall for a little while longer. By now the other five men in his clan all know, each with varying reactions to it but ultimately unable to do anything to change his mind—not even Kun.

On the night Lucas uses the potion, Kun makes one last ditch attempt at reasoning.

“You don’t need to go to this extreme,” the older man insists. Though his voice is cold and sharp and deceptively calm, his entire face is a picture of perfect anger. Everyone had already had their turns talking to Lucas alone and telling him what they needed him to hear—and now it’s just Kun left.

“It’s my decision,” Lucas says, keeping his voice steadier than he feels. “I want to be with Y/N. There is no other way.”

“You’re endangering the entire clan with this. You’d throw us all away for one person?” Kun’s eyes are red-rimmed, but not just from the rage; Lucas knows he’s been crying. Lucas shuts his own eyes, his forehead creasing as he presses the pads of his fingers to his temples.

“Don’t say it like that.”

“That’s exactly what it is.”

“You wouldn’t understand.” Lucas shakes his head, knowing he is treading on very dangerous waters with what he’s about to say. As if the situation weren’t already contentious enough. “You closed yourself off to love a long time ago. After Jingyi died. You just wouldn’t know.”

The vivid red hue of anger bleeds into Kun’s irises at the mention of his late human lover, and he has to make a very concentrated effort not to reach for the younger’s neck. “How dare you speak of her.”

Lucas opens his eyes again and looks directly at his elder now. “You’ve let the Association run your life too much,” he says, though the words come out sounding a bit defeated. He’s not even sure why he invokes Kun’s lover now; maybe he is trying to make the split easier by provoking the other man into hating him. “You’ve let them beat it into you that love is not worth trying for. What did you gain from that, in the end? But more loneliness.”

Lucas gets the breath knocked from him when Kun slams him up against the wall, and the unpleasant sound of wood splintering strikes against his eardrums. A long vertical crack forms in the wood behind Lucas, but not wide enough to make the wall separate completely. Not using his full strength, then, Lucas thinks to himself.

Kun looks for all the world like he might kill Lucas then and there without the younger man ever needing to take a potion—just bite his heart right out. He crumples Lucas’s shirt in his hands, fisting the fabric tightly enough to create small rips in it. His irises are the color of newly spilled arterial blood, and alongside the red rimming of his eyes from his earlier crying, it makes for an agonizing sight—one that sears itself into the back of Lucas’s mind. It’s made even worse by the new tears spilling down the older man’s face.

He chokes out through the tears, “You cannot do this. I raised you. You would have me destroyed twice?”

Lucas wishes he could shut every one of his senses off right now, but he can only manage to shut his eyes, once again, against the pain in the other man’s gaze. “I’m sorry, Kun-ge.”

—

After that, Lucas goes back to his own room and sits on the bed for a long time, replaying the events in his head and growing colder with the realization of what he’s about to do. He stares at the small vial on his dresser until he can’t stare at it anymore, and then he downs it all at once. He looks at the vial with renewed interest as it actually disappears once the fluid is gone, the glass evaporating away in the palm of his hand like water droplets under the sun. No evidence.

Lying on his side, he stares at the wall across from his bed and waits for the spell to begin working. He doesn’t know how much time passes, but eventually his vision begins to blur, almost so imperceptibly that it’s difficult to realize until he notices everything in his field of view is doubled, objects bleeding out of their lines like pictures drawn by a drunken artist—there’s a strange ringing in his ears too, a sound on the edge of his hearing but still present, and he doesn’t know what any of it means, or if this is how other beings feel when they are on the brink of death—it’s frightening, and he feels a momentary pang of sympathy for other nonhumans and humans alike who have no choice but to experience this terrible ordeal at the closing of their lives—

It’s harder to keep his eyes open now, so he closes them and lets all sounds and sensations fade out of his hearing—he only holds one last memory of you in his mind, of the soft and filmy texture of your wings underneath his fingertips, of you laughing whole-heartedly at something silly he’d said, and he joins his hands together in the universal symbol of prayer even as they grow weaker, hoping and praying even to his cursed vampire ancestor that this won’t be the very last memory of you—

—

“Yes, he has...most certainly departed from this world.” 

An Association council member known as Belial announces this to the room of men after doing a thorough check of Lucas’s body. His voice is distant and saddened. The texture of it is almost tangible, dragging everyone down with it like a physical thing—akin to a rock being dropped into a thin sheet. “Such a fledgling, too. Truly tragic and strange circumstances.” Belial stands beside the bed, shaking his head and looking down at the still form of the younger man as if he might discover an answer if he stares for long enough. “Was there no indication…?”

“He was probably exposed to bad blood,” Ten replies, his voice tense and quiet. Though Kun is clan leader, he doesn’t say anything at all, leaving all the dirty work of explaining the lie to Ten.

Belial’s gaze turns to Ten. He shifts his head slightly to turn his ear towards him, as if he didn’t understand what the other man said. “Bad...blood? As in death by blood weakness?”

The room feels like it’s been sucked of air once these words are spoken, and the younger men shift uncomfortably. Sicheng never lifts his gaze to look at Belial, though Yangyang’s eyes keep darting between Belial and Lucas on the bed like he’s waiting for something to happen. Hendery is just as anxious beside Yangyang, both of them passing uneasy energy between each other. Xiaojun’s face is still fixed into the same permanent frown it had been in since Lucas first told them of the plan. His eyes remain downcast and fixed on Lucas, silently asking Why did you have to be the idiot this time?

“Yes, blood weakness. He hadn’t drank as much blood as usual in the last few days...maybe he seemed a little restless...but we didn’t think it was unusual. He...didn’t seem sick.”

“Where would he have gotten bad blood from? We vampires always take such care…” Belial’s tone turns condescending, as if he could expect no better from a young vampire—someone not even wise enough to tell bad blood from uninfected blood. How could one let themselves be taken out of this world by such a fundamental, basic mistake? Kun curls his fingers into a fist at his side, though he quickly remembers himself and tries to let them relax.

“The blood lounge,” Hendery blurts out. Every eye turns to him now, and Ten’s mouth thins into an agitated line. This isn’t what they agreed on. “M-maybe it was spoiled blood from the blood lounge. It had to be. He’s more careful than that…”

Belial’s eyes are whirling with so many emotions that it’s hard to pin any singular one down. “Serving bad blood, with or without knowledge of it, is an incredible offense within any vampire district. In that case, the establishment must be shut down—after an exhaustive investigation, of course.” This statement causes more discomfort among the gathered men, almost too much of it to be properly concealed.

“I think that won’t be necessary,” Kun interjects quietly. Belial looks at him with an expression that reeks of offense, and Kun returns the stare, glaring straight into the elder vampire’s eyes. “He died of blood weakness, most likely from drinking from some disease-ridden human. Even though he used the blood lounge and blood bags, he was in the habit of getting outside blood on occasion. It was a moment of poor judgment that cost him his life...and nothing more than that.”

A tense silence stretches over the room, and Belial’s eyes still don’t leave Kun’s. The other men remain statue-still, waiting to see what will happen—if it will work—until Belial says, “Yes. Of course. I’ll file his passing with the Keepers of the Registry, as protocol states.”

The other men stay quiet and motionless until Belial departs from their house.

“You used your compulsion on a council member,” says Yangyang, and even his voice is trembling when he speaks.

“I didn’t think that was possible,” Xiaojun notes, though his tone is more irritated than awed. “They’re all so much more advanced.”

That action obviously didn’t come for free, though, because Kun is holding his head like it hurts, turning away from the rest of them. “Such recklessness is not my style. Primitiva help us all. We’re all dead if we’re found out.”

“Why did you say that,” Sicheng deadpans, his words directed to Hendery. Even though Sicheng hasn’t said or done anything since stepping into the room, he looks thoroughly exhausted. “You almost gave us away.”

Hendery holds himself up on the bed as if he’ll collapse, his body bent with all the weight of their lies. He makes a motion like he might sit on the bed before remembering it’s where Lucas’s body is resting, and he straightens himself with some effort. “I...but he was thinking badly of Lucas. Like it was his fault.”

“It was,” Kun says faintly.

“You can’t let your emotions get the best of you right now. Just let me handle the talking.” Ten’s expression is stressed, and for a moment he starts to wonder if he should’ve ever said anything to Lucas at all.

Xiaojun shakes his head. “For now, there is a lot more we need to do than just talking.”

Vampire funerary procedures are much different from what many other supernatural races are used to—even blasphemous to some. Everything is handled at the home of the deceased instead of a funeral home or mortuary, in keeping with the tradition of honoring one’s vampire ancestors—and ultimately, the Primitiva Vampire. After the Primitiva’s gruesome death hundreds of years ago, all that had been left was her ashes once the fire burned out, but her followers still gave the remains a proper processing and burial.

The men dress Lucas in one of his nicest suits and perform all the necessary actions that would be involved at a funerary home, including preparing the casket. All of them help throughout this process as tradition dictates, though it is more difficult than any of them expected it to be. (No one even makes a dark joke about you’ll have to do this for me when I’m gone, which speaks to their inner turmoil.)

The viewing is equally challenging to get through, if not more.

Many of their vampire friends and acquaintances attend, including various members of the Association. Everyone seems to buy the blood weakness lie perfectly, which means Kun’s compulsion worked as it should have. That knowledge does very little to relax any of them in the grand scheme of things, though.

Though they know Lucas is not really gone, the sight of him lying there in that dark coffin with other vampires looking sadly down at his still face and dabbing their tears away is deeply frightening.

The night of the viewing goes by at a glacial pace, and every other night after that up until the funeral passes even more slowly, like time itself has dropped its speed to prolong the torment.

When the last few straggling visitors for the viewing are gone, the men go their separate ways to try to deal with the not-so-small trauma of the day’s events. Kun goes up to one of the manor’s several wide balconies, one that they’ve all used as a familiar hangout spot or simply a place to unwind over the years. The sun will not rise for another forty-five minutes or so, giving him enough time to sit and think before it becomes unsafe. He is not very surprised when he finds Ten already there, though he decides not to leave.

“You stopped smoking three decades ago,” Kun comments, waving his hand in a pitiful attempt to clear out the smell of smoke filling the air. There’s no hint of teasing or personality in his voice, only hollowness and exhaustion. He sits beside the other man in one of the chairs sat outside. “Where did you even get cigarettes from?”

“Don’t worry about me. This is just for the nerves.”

“Why would I worry, it’s not like you can—” Kun pauses before saying the word they both know, realizing it hits far too close to home right now. Silence falls between them until Kun asks, “Do you actually believe this will be worth it?”

“It will. We’ve worked too hard for it not to be.” Ten takes a drag from his cigarette. “We’re giving them a second chance. Isn’t that something to feel good about?”

“A second chance. How interesting.”

“Everyone deserves one.” Ten glances at Kun from the corners of his eyes and doesn’t say anything more, but Kun already knows what he’s vaguely implying.

“And yet everyone doesn’t get one.”

“All the more reason to take the opportunity when it becomes possible.”

Kun doesn’t reply to that. Ten places a hand on his shoulder, but the older man meets this with little regard as he rises from his seat and walks away at a sluggish pace.

You stand in the train station ready to buy a ticket, clutching documents falsifying your identity and feeling more terrified than you possibly ever have. Today marks the seventh day, and you don’t even know if Lucas is alive right now. It was too risky to have any of the other clan members contact you—not until you and Lucas meet up in the designated place. You know Aldriel is an excellent potion master, and if he says the spell will work as intended then it will, but there’s always that seed of doubt.

Your parting with Aldriel had been typical of your relationship with him—you crumbling before him and him pretending like he was fine, lending enough strength for the both of you to survive on, though you knew he was also bleeding from the heart.

“You better not forget about me,” you’d told him, smushing your face into the sleeve of his shirt to hide your tears, though there was no stopping the flow. It was staining his shirt sleeve right through.

He’d scoffed at you, though it was a watery sound. “I couldn’t if I wanted to.” He’d held your head closer against his shoulder, the both of you glued together in whichever way seemed fit when you’d walked through his door one last time to say goodbye. “We’ll see each other again. Don’t worry.”

You’d lifted your head from his shoulder then, looking at him with an aggrieved expression. “You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Aldriel put his hand on top of your head, petting you like a small puppy. It was a thing you’d disliked since you were both children, but which only made your heart hurt even more now. “Have more faith in me than that, dear sister. You’ll see.”

When it’s your turn to get a ticket, you step up to the counter and hand over your information, trying to keep the shaking in your hands to a minimum. The teller behind the counter is also a fairy, their wings tucked against the back of their uniform but peeking out at the sides. You childishly try to take some solace in that, hoping there will be some solidarity between you two. Maybe they’ll be less critical of your legitimacy than any other being might be.

The process is scarily easier than you’d thought it would be, though you are sweating the entire time. A fake name and birth date, and no one suspected anything. All of this would have to be your new identity now if you were to live with Lucas in Tianjin without being discovered.

Getting on the train when it comes is only part of the long journey ahead. It doesn’t provide you with much relief, but you are at least thankful to have one segment of that journey complete.

—

It takes another cab to get to your destination once you’re off the train, but you soon arrive at the house of one of Aldriel’s friends and his similar-name twin—Raziel. Raziel was Aldriel’s most trusted and oldest friend, their woven history extending back to childhood. The three of you had grown up together, and you’d even been quite familiar with Raziel until they left for Tianjin some years ago. Now, you’re back in front of each other again under circumstances that you never could’ve guessed.

“You’re here. Good.” Raziel welcomes you into their house with open arms, tugging you into a jittery hug that you anxiously return.

“Have...you heard anything?” you ask, though you know it’s futile. Raziel wouldn’t have gotten any more information than you have, not until Lucas was standing right on their doorstep. They shake their head and give you a sympathetic look, patting your hands.

“He’ll be alright. Everything will go well. I believe it.” Raziel guides you further into their house, presumably towards the room you’ll be staying in while you’re there. “It’s all so romantic, though—even if it doesn’t feel like it right now. I hope you know you’re doing a good thing, in the end.”

You force your facial muscles into a smile, though it is a ghostly and fleeting one. “Thank you.”

Either way, you will have to wait until nighttime to know if Raziel’s words come true or not; the sun is still high in the sky. It’s only midday. You’ve never before hated the sunlight, but right now you curse the sun’s rays that elongate the time between you and your lover.

—

“You all, give him some damn space,” Ten says, trying to pull the younger vampires away so they won’t crowd around the coffin. “He doesn’t need the scare of his life looking at all your faces when he wakes up.” Despite trying his best to be the voice of reason, Ten also has to refuse the urge to station himself beside the coffin and watch for the slightest movement of eyelids, the tiniest twitch of the lips. His hands shake from the frayed nerves of a week of nothing but death and gloom, and even though he doesn’t need to sleep, he thinks he will be out for at least two days after all of this is over.

There is no set time, no designated signal for when—or the dreaded if—Lucas will awaken. The waiting game feels longer than it really is, especially with the hours until the funeral commences steadily counting down. However, it is not very long before there’s a big sucking breath coming from the coffin, the sudden sound of lungs being filled after a week of complete stillness. Everyone rushes back to the bier when this happens, peering wildly inside the coffin.

Lucas’s eyelids flutter for an eternity before shooting open. He immediately seems distressed upon waking, sitting up out of the coffin so quick that it stutters on its stand, and the others have to steady it before it tips over.

“Xuxi...are you okay?” Sicheng asks, voice hushed with nervousness. Despite his unending anger and distress about the situation, Kun has also crowded in to witness Lucas’s awakening, and he visibly sags with relief to see the younger man is at last awake.

The look in Lucas’s eyes is wild. They are momentarily afraid that maybe something has gone wrong with the potion—maybe it has affected his mind somehow and he doesn’t remember any of them— but then he says,

“Y/N. Is Y/N okay?”

“We don’t know,” Sicheng replies. “I mean, hopefully. But it was safer to not have so much cross-communication going on—you’ll have to go to the meeting spot to find out…”

Though the reasons for this make sense, this does not provide consolation. Lucas fumbles his way out of the coffin with the men’s help. It’s clear he’s still disoriented, which makes them even more nervous, if that’s possible at this point.

“You should drink some blood before you leave,” Hendery suggests, and everyone else agrees. Lucas won’t argue that, so he downs one of the blood bags they have stored until he feels a little more like himself.

“You have to go soon, the funeral is set to start in another hour—we’ll have to leave—” Yangyang warns him, though the words fade at the end of his sentence. He doesn’t know how to continue his thought or how to even begin saying goodbye.

Lucas fills that gap by steeling himself and saying his farewells to each of them in turn, though his eyes are troubled and his chin crumples like he might cry at any moment.

“Don’t say I never helped you out with anything,” Ten says, a few tears slipping down his cheeks. Being separated is painful, but it’ll ultimately serve its purpose of giving Lucas a chance at having a love that none of them could. After seeing Kun suffer the way he did after losing Jingyi, Ten wants to spare another one of his mates from dealing with the same fate.

When Lucas gets to Kun, there is a slight awkward silence and a swift exchange of glances—Lucas’s soft gaze butting up against Kun’s more solid one, which is simultaneously pleading to him and rebuking him for his actions. Still, Kun embraces him tightly enough that their bodies could join together.

“Xuxi…” Kun starts, “I don’t…” And then his words break, leaving an unspoken thought between them.

“One day, you’ll forgive me for this,” Lucas whispers to the older man. Kun gives him an endlessly hurt look in return, silently asking him how he could even conceive those words. When they separate from each other, it’s with much reluctance. Lucas looks at them all and nods once, his mouth tight with grief.

“Right. Time to go, then.”

—

You awake in the middle of the night to cool fingers on the side of your face, which startles you completely out of your sleep. Opening your eyes to an unfamiliar room scares you even more, and it takes you a moment to remember why your surroundings have changed. The knowledge comes back to you quickly when a large palm slips against your own, long fingers twining with yours.

“Xuxi,” you whisper quietly, the sound of his name hanging in the air like a prayer. One of the last few times you’ll be able to freely call him that, except in private.

You can’t see his figure well with all the lights turned out, but he had no problem navigating through the dark to reach your bedside. Wanting desperately to see his face, you fumble around for the bedside lamp switch before turning it on.

“Y/N…” Lucas’s face is suddenly illuminated to you in all its golden glory, a myriad of emotions flickering over his features.

“I didn’t even hear you come in,” you say breathlessly. You’re somewhat sad and wish you could’ve met him at the door, embraced him after his long trip, but it doesn’t much matter anymore because he’s here now.

“Poor Y/N. My baby must’ve been so tired.” Lucas bumps his forehead against yours, his whole body drooping with relief as he practically sinks into you, and you giggle a little as you complain about having to hold his weight up. There is a tingle behind your eyes that threatens to turn into a sudden burst of tears, but you try to hold them at bay for a while longer.

“Are we safe?” he whispers, needing your confirmation. “Raziel said so. But...are we really safe?”

“That’s frightening to even think about,” you reply quietly. “We can’t stay here too long, but for now…I think we will be.” Lucas nods without a word, still holding your hand. His blood-scent is completely absent, as it usually is when he’s around you, and you know he’s used the blockers. Soon, with the ability to go out together and not be arrested or threatened for it, that will not be necessary to disguise his vampirism anymore. “It...won’t be easy.”

“No, but the things we want out of life usually aren’t.”

You squeeze his hand. “Raziel will help take care of things for us. It won’t all be trials and tribulations. I hope.” More hesitantly, you ask him, “What was it like? Being dead?” You know that vampires, being once human, still have souls and an afterlife to go to like most other living beings.

The look on his face is worrying. He doesn’t meet your eyes; he only shakes his head and stares at your joined hands. “It was cold without you.” His lips pull into a weak and chapped smile, if only to quiet your worrying, but that doesn’t work as intended. You decide to leave it for now, figuring there will be more time to talk about it when he feels ready.

Turning the light back off, you both press your bodies together as close as they can physically get, Lucas’s head on your chest and his long legs all jumbled together with yours. You fall asleep before he does, lulled away by his comforting and safe presence. He stays awake for a while longer, staring into the dark and the dark staring back into him, before everything else falls away.

[tlcwrites]

Two Hearts Make a Whole

Prompt: “Kiss me again, like you mean it.” Photo prompt below.

Summary: NYC Pride is for celebration, and occasionally, long-overdue revelations.

Word Count: 2,001

Tags/Content warnings: Marvel. Stucky. If you have a problem with it, there's the door. SFW. Slight TFATWS spoilers so read at your own risk. Platonic Reader. Two idiots in love. Technically canon-divergent because I'm still in my everyone-is-alive-and-in-this-timeline happy place that I will never ever leave fuck you very much Russo brothers but not AU. Found family. All the feels. Complete and total LGBTQ+ support. Lots of bad language words because #me. Un-beta'd.

Author’s Note: Okay so yes this is technically 4 weeks late for @autumnleaves1991-blog's Writer Wednesday weekly challenge. BUT, it was incredibly important to me to finish this one before Pride month is over. Made it by the skin of my teeth.

Happy Pride, y’all. If you’re out, you’re amazing. If you’re closeted, you’re amazing. However you identify is valid and important. Trans folx are LGBTQ+. Bisexuals are LGBTQ+. Ace folx are LGBTQ+. Anyone who identifies or thinks they may be as queer is LGBTQ+. All are welcome in the family. You have the right to choose your pronouns and we have the responsibility to use them. Live whatever your truth looks like to you and love each other. Love is love is love is love. If your family doesn’t accept you for you, I’m your mom now and I’ve got mom hugs available on demand. Homophobes and TERFS can fuck off and roll in poison ivy. Always punch Nazis. Pride shouldn't be limited to the month of June. And don’t you dare forget that Black and Brown trans women were the ones who rioted at Stonewall, and we owe everything to their bravery. Don’t forget that much of popular ‘gay’ culture was appropriated from Black women. And for more facts about Pride that you should absolutely know, Rawiyah Tariq (@ mammyisdead on Instagram) has a phenomenally good overview.

“Oh my god.” You gasp loudly. "Oh my GOD. Is that-"

“What?!” Instantly in First Avenger Protective Mode™️, Steve surveys the crowd, wishing he had an actual shield instead of the screen printed one on his shirt. “What is it?”

You gasp again, smacking Sam’s arm repeatedly. “OHMYGOD IT IS HOLY FUCK.”

“First; ow.” Now-Cap rubs his bicep. “Second; clue in the class before Steve has an aneurysm, please.”

Vibrating with excitement doesn’t begin to describe your current state. “HER ROYAL HIGHNESS MISS LEMON MERINGUE IS STANDING RIGHT FUCKING THERE.”

With the finesse of a shampoo commercial, Bucky's dark locks fly as he whips around. “What?!”

“RIGHT THERE RIGHT THERE RIGHT THERE.” You abandon a relieved Sam and latch on to Bucky’s vibranium arm. “Oh my GOD I love her so fucking much.”

“She was robbed, absolutely fucking robbed,” he agrees, craning his neck to get a better view. “Divine Tension’s lip sync was shameful.”

Sam glances at Steve, who is slowly coming out of protector mode. “What the ever-loving hell are they talking about?”

“RuPaul’s Drag Race.” Nat flicks more confetti at both Cap-the-former and Cap-the-current. “They watch it every week.”

“Really, Steven, for a guy with enhanced super senses, you miss a lot.” Tony hefts a bedazzled Morgan higher on his back. The toddler, accompanied by Scott playing air-piano on the ground, sings along with the ABBA song being blasted at full volume through the street. Tony continues as if this is an everyday occurrence. “Why do you think both of your People disappear every Friday evening?”

Ears pink, Steve mumbles something.

“What?!” The only other one with hearing enhanced enough to hear a murmur over the cacophony of several thousand people belting out the chorus of ‘Dancing Queen’ at the top of their lungs, Bucky turns to stare at his friend. “You thought we were datin’?”

Steve’s blush extends down his neck.

You and Bucky stare at each other for a moment before you both collapse on each other, exploding into stomach clenching, thigh slapping laughter.

“I’m gonna guess that’s a ‘no’?” Clint confirms with Nat.

“Oh, a big ‘no’.” She watches affectionately as you and Bucky calm down enough to look at each other, breathe for a second, and both promptly dissolve into hysterics once more. “Like, the biggest ‘no’.”

Sam crossed his arms across his chest, his stoic stance so reminiscent of Steve it’s amusing (as well as a beautiful disparity to the sequined crop top he’s sporting. Oof, those abs.). “How do I not know about this?”

“Because you’re not a former super spy?” The usually-Black-but-today-Rainbow Widow tosses the last of her confetti at Tony, who spins a jubilant Morgan into it. “Or because you and that leggy barista from the lobby coffee shop are too busy playing hide-the-“

“-Baby Shark!” Morgan suddenly shrieks, flailing towards a guy on roller blades wearing a fin and tail (and not much else).

“Yeah,” Nat finishes with a smirk, “Hide-the-Baby Shark.”

Sam flips her a gesture that makes Clint laugh and Bruce sigh.

You and Bucky have finally managed to pull yourselves together. “Oh my god, Steven Grant,” you gasp, wiping tears from your eyes. “That’s the funniest fucking shit I’ve ever fucking heard.”

“Language!”

Steve glares at Tony. “One. Time. It was one. Time.”

Bucky slings his flesh arm around Steve’s shoulders. “Oh, punk. You may have perfect vision now, but sometimes you’re still as blind as you were before.”

Visiortn himself nods sagely. “Humans can be quite unperceptive when it comes to matters of the heart.” Vision casts a fond smile at Wanda, who is using her powers to make Pietro’s tinsel wig fly on and off. “Sometimes you have to look harder to see what’s right in front of your nose.”

A confused frown on that handsome face, Captain Clueless looks at Bucky. “Why do I feel like everyone else knows something that I don’t?”

His bestie sighs deeply. “Because, Stevie, almost everyone else on this planet knows that my tastes tend towards tall, blonde, blue-eyed knuckleheads who have zero sense of self-preservation.”

“And an ass you could bounce a quarter off of,” Scott helpfully supplies.

“And that,” Bucky agrees.

Steve frowns.

You press your palms to your eyes in vexation. “You, Steve. He’s talking about you.” (Seriously, how has this idiot survived for over a century while being so dumb?)

Whatever he was expecting, it was certainly not that. “He-“ The Man With A Plan gapes as he turns to his oldest friend. “You-“

“Me,” Bucky says gently.

Even though you’re slightly surprised that Bucky is going to do this in such a public forum, you can’t help but be so proud of your friend. It has taken a long time for Bucky to believe he deserves to be happy. There are days he still sinks into that dark place, where his inner demons whisper that he should have fought harder against his Hydra captors, and that his past actions were still somehow his fault. Those are the days no amount of baking or Modern Marvels will bring him out of his funk. You, Steve, Sam, and Nat have all held those strong shoulders as they shook with sobs, overwhelmed by the shame and horror at what his hands had done without his consent.

But he’s here. He’s free. And he’s smiling nervously at his best friend.

“I-” Steve is short-circuiting. “Me?!”

“Stevie.” With the kind of tender patience that can only be born of a lifetime of keeping (or attempting to keep) an idiot such as one Steven Grant Rogers from flinging himself headlong into every fight he comes across, Bucky moves his flesh hand to the back of Steve’s neck. His face is full of such soft affection that you almost want to look away for fear of intruding on this suddenly intimate moment. “What do you think ‘til the end of the line’ means, you idiot? You’ve been it for me since I was thirteen-years-old.”

Blue eyes are locked with blue eyes as Steve processes this revelation. “I-” He shakes his head as if to declutter his thoughts. “This whole time?”

“Since the first time I saw that asshole knock you down, and your scrawny ass climbed right back up.” A wry chuckle escapes as Bucky reminices. “You were ninety pounds soaking wet, and you stood there, against a guy who was three times your size, and never waivered for a second. It was magnificent.”

“I don’t like bullies,” is Steve’s quiet response.

Bucky’s grin is adoring. “I know, sweetheart.” He gently strokes the back of Steve’s neck with his thumb. “You’ve always had a heart way bigger than your brain.”

Steve is still back on the first part of Bucky’s admission. “If you’ve felt- if you-” He’s practically pleading. “Why didn’t you say anything then?”

Bucky shrugs, attempting and failing nonchalance. “It was a different time, you know?” He’s uncharacteristically unsure of himself, the subtle waiver in his voice revealing the anxiety born of a lifetime of being forced to hide his truth. “I mean, you remember how it was; you didn’t talk about, no one talked about- about being- about people like...” He swallows thickly.  “And I was so scared you didn’t, that you weren’t-” His voice breaks.

Even though you’ve all been emotionally invested in this love story for years, the entire team respectfully pretends not to listen as the former Winter Soldier quietly admits his deepest secret to his closest friend. It’s enraging as Bucky confesses yet another way he's been a victim of his circumstances, and denied his right to live freely without derision. Once more, you’re awed by his resilience.

“-it was a risk I couldn’t take,” Bucky finally gets out, that stubborn fire back in his eyes. “I couldn’t lose you, Steve. I couldn’t chance it. I could live with just being your friend and only your friend so long it meant you were in my life.”

Stunned silence meets the end of his confession. Steve’s face is impassive, those cerulean eyes uncharacteristically inscrutable.

You can all tell Bucky is heading steadily towards dread and heartbreak the longer Steve takes to respond. You and Sam exchange a look, both ready to intervene if Steve demonstrates any of the abhorrent attitudes that were so prevalent in the society of his youth. It would be completely out of character for him, but...

Finally, Steve speaks. “You’re telling me,” he says, his words slow and deliberate, “that you made me wait ninety-three years to tell me you’ve felt the same way about me as I have about you since the day you picked me up out of that alley?!”

The whole found family breaths a collective sigh of relief as Steve pulls Bucky even closer, broad chest to broad chest.

“Okay, to be fair, you were an ice cube for most of that time and I wasn’t exactly available for a relationship.” Bucky’s grin stands in contradiction to his mullish defense. “But yeah, that’s the gist of it.” There’s the Bucky you all know and love, biting his lip with those perfect white teeth. “Now, punk, I’d really like to kiss you now, but first I need you to say you want me to.”

“You-” Steve’s throat works as he attempts- and fails- to rein in his emotions. “You jerk.”

And then the Star Spangled Man seizes the president of the Sometimes-Former-Assassins Club by his ridiculously perfect face and crashes their mouths together.

At any Pride event, seeing two men kissing is, obviously, to be expected. But seeing The First Avenger and The White Wolf attempting to swallow each other’s tongues is not at all routine. As people realize what is happening, the crowd is whipped into a frenzy the likes of which is usually reserved for the aftermath of sporting events and elections that defeat fascists.

Watching the two men embrace, Scott sniffles loudly. “I’m gonna cry, I’m so happy.”

He’s certainly not the only one. Wanda has a watery smile as she wraps her arms around Vision and Pietro; Pepper, Tony, and Bruce are watching with fond parental energy; you and Sam sandwich Peter between the two of you, grins practically splitting your faces. Even Nat’s eyes look suspiciously shiny and she and Clint sling their arms around each other with platonic affection. And that’s not counting the several thousand people who are cheering for love being love being love being love.

When they finally break their embrace, the Centennial twins are startled to see they’ve collected quite an audience.

“Uh, so…” Suddenly bashful, Steve glances back to his- partner? Boyfriend? Soulmate? Is there a word that can accurately describe two people who have found each other time and again in a world that seems hell-bent on keeping them apart?- his ears practically maroon with embarrassment. For a guy with one of the most-recognized faces in the world, Steve is still incredibly and endearingly uncomfortable with attention. “Buck?”

Bucky seems just as stunned as Steve.

Thankfully, the masses demonstrate the usual support that’s the hallmark of Pride. “LOVE IS LOVE!” someone screams in the crowd. It’s quickly echoed, and chants fill the park.

The attention momentarily off them, the former Winter Soldier and his giant himbo of a soulmate look back at each other. You pretend not to watch through the happiest tears as they embrace again, bringing their foreheads together. The relief they share is palpable, as they’re finally able to show the world- and each other- the love they’ve each hidden for so long.

Bucky’s voice is so soft you have to strain to hear it. “You have no idea how much m’in love with you, Stevie.”

“Pretty sure I do,” Steve answers, bringing a hand up to carefully wipe the tears from Bucky’s face. “‘cause it’s as much as I love you, Buck.”

Bucky's answering grin can only be described as saucy. “Then kiss me again, like you mean it.”

And Steve, for once in his long life, does exactly as ordered.

---

A/N: “The Sometimes-Former-Assassins Club” is from Starry_Emerald173’s BRILLIANT The Avengers Wrangler over on AO3. If you haven’t read it yet, drop what you’re doing and do so immediately. Make sure you're not drinking any liquids, or your keyboard/phone may be in peril.