#she would find Ines too distant

[kara-knuckles]

I find a lot of Ines portrayals in a more intimate context kinda frustrating, because if you don't ship Wines you are accused of being a homophobe/think W is a kid/just don't like W, while some HoeInes shippers don't think too hard about how this relationship works, and Ascalon/Ines is nonexistent outside of my head. And don't even get me started on the horny dudes and their delusions…

With the new chapter potentially adding another person to her harem, I decided to just write down the aspects I think are important in a relationship with Ines. TLDR: she is a pretty uncompromising girlfriend who needs a lot of space to herself, so most people would find her either too distant or too controlling.

The most obvious obstacle for a relationship would be her ability to perceive people's intent. Ines's profile emphasizes that trust is incredibly important to her, however, that goes both ways. In general, trust is one of the most important things in a relationship, and that includes letting your partner keep their secrets. Not everyone would be comfortable dating someone with inbuilt lie detector, even if they don't have anything to hide. And, of course, if they are unsatisfied with her for some reason, they can't hide it either.

And it's not like Ines would intentionally spy on her partner; if anything, I think her display of trust would be keeping a bit of a distance between them. The thing is, she likely could use her Arts from birth (as is typical for a Leithanian) and she spent most of her life anticipating danger. She is someone who scans her surroundings the moment she wakes up (we see it in DM), not using her Arts at all may feel like sensory deprivation (Hoederer noticed she wasn't using Arts during their stay at Babel, which suggests there were some oddities in her behavior). She probably needs to do some scans for the peace of mind, so her partner needs to be open-minded enough to accept occasional violations of their privacy.

This is why I think setting boundaries is very important for Ines. Not only to establish her own, but also for her to know how close is too close for her partner's comfort. She doesn't want to know too much, so if her partner consents to let her use her Arts or openly warns her when she oversteps, she would appreciate it.

Another problem with her Arts (and Oripathy) is how it affects her health. I think, people underestimate how debilitating worsening vision can get. As someone who experienced temporary loss of central vision (aka reverse tunnel vision), I can attest that she would need someone who would not only be ready to take care of her, but also be someone she would trust to do it unconditionally. It is embarrassing when you struggle with or can't do at all even the most simple tasks, and with Ines's temperament I'm sure it would feel outright humiliating.

At the same time, for all the comments they are sure to receive, she wouldn't mind taking care of her partner. She knows they would do it for her, so it is only natural to do the same for them. However, she would only go as far as she expects the other person to go for her, since for her it is a form of payback. She would find people who expect others to care for them without offering the same in return annoying, so all the guys screaming "mommy!" at her every picture can go fuck themselves.

Then there are her complicated feelings towards her race. Whether you read it as a foreigner trying to become a native or as a trans allegory, I believe it is important for her to feel accepted. Ines calls herself a Sarkaz mercenary, yet she struggles with accepting herself as a Sarkaz (like when she tells Scout she isn't one), but at the same time it gets to her when people don't consider her one (W in DM, half the people she meets in chapter 12). As a result, this topic is kind of a minefield for anyone who would try to get closer to her, since they would need to be careful not only with the acknowledgement, but also with the compliments, and just generally have a good understanding of her perspective.

One other thing I see being mentioned by some shippers and dudebros is how they think her idea of having fun with a partner involves shittalking and just generally being a bitch. The thing is, Ines actually likes being left alone. Yes, she is normally very assertive, but her trust tap shows she enjoys quiet company and her sewing hobby suggests she prefers staying in-door doing her own stuff. And before anyone gets a wrong idea, I'm not saying she would suddenly turn demure in a more intimate situation, I simply think that she is actually a quieter person in private, and that she would prefer a partner who can respect that. Considering her abilities and line of work, she accumulates a lot of anxiety and stress, so it is important for her to find some quiet corner without anyone to annoy her to relax.

Finally, she would value stability. Her concern is about "now"; she tells Paprika that she believes in concrete things like eating when you are hungry, but as a mercenary even something as simple as having enough food isn't a given. It is important to have an anchor in the turbulent world of constant war, however, with how skilled Ines is, she would have rather high standards for people she can rely on.

[imtryingbuck]

He doesn’t know.

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Tony Stark x fem!Reader

Summary: You and Tony date until he breaks your heart, he soon regrets it.

Word count: 1,800

Warnings: angst. cheating (sorry). Tony’s 40 readers 28. Swearing. pepper is terrible (sorry) mentions of miscarriage.

Masterlist

You had been dating Tony for the past three years, you met when he bumped into you in the restaurant you worked at. The air was knocked out of the both of you, you not only because you hadn’t expected to be nearly knocked down on your ass or the feeling of a strong arm wrapping themselves around your waist just before you hit the ground. Him because he wasn’t expecting to knock into the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on.

From that day on Tony came into the restaurant just to see you, spending money on food he didn’t eat sometimes he would just sit at the bar and talk to you if you were manning it.

Six months after your initial meeting he asked you out even though there was an age difference between the pair of you, you said yes.

Everyday since you two were dating was different, he spoiled you to no end from expensive gifts to lavish trips to beautiful places. The love you two shared was something you never experienced before, it was pure. It was genuine.

You had never been happier.

For the past five months Tony was becoming distant from you, he was always working on projects that he never let you in on which you understood, you didn’t need to know the ins and outs of his business. Whenever you were lucky enough to spend time with him he was on his phone texting. When he came home from work he would go straight into the bathroom and you’d be lying in bed hearing the shower running.

For five months you tried and tried to get him to slow his work schedule down worried for what it was going to do with his health but all he replied with was yeah I will, but it never happened.

Today was your four year anniversary and since he hadn’t said anything about what you two would be doing you had decided that you’d surprise him at work with a home cooked meal since you knew he wouldn’t leave to go to a restaurant as work was too busy. Hopefully he could spare thirty minutes of his time to spend with you. It was your anniversary after all.

Getting out of the car you walked into the tower, greeting the receptionist with a smile receiving one in return you go into the elevator. The higher the box went up the worse your nerves got.

It’s just Tony, you thought to yourself.

Once the door opened you looked around to see any of the hero’s you had become friends with in the now four years you had been with Tony but you couldn’t find anyone so you headed straight to Tony’s office. Knocking on the door twice you opened the door.

And that’s where everything that had been happening in the past five months where Tony had been acting strange and distant had all made sense.

The man you was in love with, the man you stood by when everyone slated him, the man that defended you publicly when you was being called a gold digger, the man who has now officially broke your heart.

That man was sitting on the couch in his office with a blonde woman sat on his lap. Lips locked together. Her shirt on the floor. His hands roaming her torso.

“This looks bad...”

That’s all what the man who you have loved for four years, the man who you have just caught cheating on you, said when he heard you drop the containers off food on the floor.

“What is it babe? Oh it’s you” the blonde said when he pulled away from her, she saw where he was looking so she turned to face you.

Your heart dropped.

It was Pepper.

With your eyes fixed on his you stumbled backwards knocking into the door frame on your way out. Turning around you walked as fast as your legs could carry you back to the elevator, with every step you took you could hear Tony behind you.

“Y/n. Y/n, baby slow down. Please just wait” thanks to the wait of the elevator he managed to catch up to you.

“Baby it-it’s not what-“

“How long?”

His heart clenched painfully at the way your voice sounded so small, seeing the way you flinched at him touching you crushed him. Tony knew that he only had himself to blame. He also knew he was going to have to tell you the truth, knowing for a fact that you were going to be leaving him forever when he told you broke his heart.

“Y/n-“

“How long”

“S-six mo-months” Tony’s stomach sunk when he saw your hand go flying to cover your mouth, hearing a muffled sob coming from you.

“W-why?”

“Y/n-“

“Why. Why Tony?”

“I-I-I…I don’t know”

He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know why he’s been cheating on you for the past six months. He doesn’t know why he’s cheated on you and thrown your three years relationship down the drain.

He doesn’t even have an answer to give you for breaking your heart into millions of pieces.

“Wasn’t-“ No. No you wasn’t going to ask that. No way was you going to ask the cheater ‘wasn’t I good enough’ or ‘what did I do wrong’. He was the one that cheated, not you. No way was you going to ask all the questions that you wanted to ask because he simply did not know why he had been cheating on you for the past six months with his assistant.

The same assistant that knew you two were dating.

“Y/n baby please-“

“Babe have you told her?” Pepper’s voice cut him off this time.

Tony’s eyes went straight to his shoes finding it easier for him to shake his head without looking at you.

“To-told me what?”

What could be worse than finding out that your boyfriend had been cheating on you for six months?

“I’m pregnant! We’re going to have a baby” 

That’ll do it. That was worse.

You and Tony agreed that you’d both start trying to get pregnant when you celebrated your three year anniversary. It just wasn’t working but you kept trying. Until eight months ago. You found out you was pregnant, the way Tony’s face lit up with tears streaming down his cheeks when you told him he was going to be a father engrained it’s self into your memory.

A month after that happy day you woke up to cramps in your stomach, Tony rushed you to the hospital where they told you that you had lost baby Stark.

Maybe that’s what drove him into the arms of another woman. A woman who was the same age as him. A woman that could give him what he’s always wanted.

A woman that simply wasn’t you.

“D-do you love her?”

Tony frowned at the question, he expected you to call him names or something. He expected you to tell him that he was worse than the devil himself but no, no you asked him if he loved Pepper.

“Y-yes”

“I-I wish you two t-the best.” Tony’s sad eyes filled with tears, the itch to ask him why he was sad for gnawed at you, Pepper looked smug.

Turning to Pepper you looked her in the eyes “you know the saying don’t you? What they do with you…they do on you”

You were rather proud of the fact that you didn’t stutter when looking at the woman who was sleeping with your boyfriend. Seeing her smug smile drop when she understood what you were implying turned your pain into satisfaction.

“Y/n?”

“Hel-hi Tony”

“I knew that was you, hi”

It’s been six years since you last saw Tony, a year after leaving you met a divorcee a few months after moving to a new town. Things moved quickly between the pair of you, a year after meeting him he proposed, a month later you were married, eight months later you gave birth to your daughter. Finding yourself pregnant four months after giving birth to Ali, several months afterwards you gave birth to twin boys Harvey and Jackson.

“Hi Tony. What are you doing here?”

Here being in the town you lived in with your family, here being in the car park of target.

“We had a mission just dropping off for some food, what about you?”

“I live here”

“Oh, so how have you been?”

“Fine. What about you?”

“Fine. Fine. I-I messed up Y/n/n badly! Turned out that the baby wasn’t mine an-and I’ve been trying to find yo-“

“Momma!” You turned around to find Ali running at you full speed, her pigtails flailing around as she got closer to you.

“Momma? Y/n is she mine?”

“No-“ you had to laugh at his question. Luckily he hadn’t touched you in them five months of him cheating on you, it was impossible for him to be the dad of your beautiful baby girl. “No she’s my husbands”

“H-husband?” Tony stuttered, eyes going straight to your ring finger. Heart sinking when he found a shiny diamond ring sitting there.

“That would be me, nice to meet a friend of Y/n’s. Baby the twins made me get them a new toy”

“Made you? Your an adult, they are only children”

“They’re scary babe”

Tony stood there awkwardly watching the interaction between the woman who he has never stopped loving, and her husband.

“T-twins? You have three kids?”

“Yeah, they practically run the house. Always outnumbered with the three little rascals” your husband said smiling proudly. “Oh by the way I’m Andy, nice to meet you.”

“Tony”

“Yeah I know who you are. Come on baby we need to get going home” Tony didn’t like the way Andy’s voice was towards him.

“Coming love. It was nice seeing you Tony, I’m sorry about the baby. I wish you nothing but happiness, goodbye”

You didn’t even let him say anything back to you before you took Andy’s waiting hand as he had Ali in his other arm.

Getting into the car with your husband after he got Ali into her car seat, you smiled at the twins and Jacob - your stepson - then at your husband.

After finding out about Tony’s betrayal you thought you would never find love and happiness again but life lead you to Andy, the man who made you feel loved more than Tony ever did. Andy made you feel happier more than Tony ever did.

“Let’s go home”

As your family’s car pulled out of the parking lot Tony’s eyes never left the vehicle.

He had lost his everything the moment he let Pepper kiss him that first time. Now six years on he had truly lost his world to another man.

Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama | @capsbestgirl77

[bellaxgiornata]

Keep Me Warm

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Fem!Reader Word Count: 4.7k

Summary: After Michael cancels your date night because something came up with his family, you're surprised to find him on your doorstep drenched and shivering from the rain.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ because this is mainly just smut, friends

a/n: It has been far too long that I've been writing for Michael without giving him smut and that changes now! This one was also was written for Mandy's Sweater Weather Challenge by the wonderful @she-likesorchids using the prompt "Get inside, you're all wet!" Feedback is always appreciated!

Warmly cocooned in your navy blue blanket, you were curled up on your sofa with the glow from your television softly washing over you in your sitting room. Your empty wine glass sat long forgotten on your coffee table beside an empty takeout container, the buzz from the wine still lingering in your system and relaxing you further into the cushions. While you sat comfortably enraptured by the romantic comedy you’d decided to put on for the evening, the soft patter of autumn rain and the distant roll of thunder enveloped your house outside. 

Initially you’d hoped to be spending your Saturday night with Michael, not alone on your sofa watching fictional couples falling in love. The pair of you were supposed to have gone out for dinner tonight for what would have been your third date, but something had come up with his family’s business–which you knew he’d been trying to find a way out of lately. He’d been incredibly apologetic when he’d called you a few hours ago to cancel, and you’d been understanding but secretly disappointed because it had been a long awaited third date. 

You’d had a crush on Michael since you first met him just over a year ago, having accidentally bumped into him at the market while picking out produce. The pair of you had gotten together for friendly reasons after a handful of more fortuitous run-ins at the market–going book shopping, on coffee dates, or having occasional dinners at your house–but they had always been under the pretense of friendship. Until you’d accidentally slipped up and blurted that you’d found him attractive a month ago and he’d shortly afterwards asked you on a date.

And tonight, after that date, you’d admittedly been hoping to do more than just exchange a few sweet kisses with him.

Though you pushed those thoughts aside, trying to ignore that lingering bit of disappointment you’d spent your evening attempting to drown out with the takeout and wine. Michael had rescheduled with you for next Saturday night at least. And, if you were really that desperate, it wasn’t like you couldn’t have a date with your vibrator before bed tonight, even if you’d have preferred Michael.

A handful of hurried, sharp raps against your front door abruptly rang out through your house, breaking you from your thoughts. You jumped on the sofa at the unexpected knocking, startling at the sound as your heart skipped a beat in your chest. Eyes darting to your front door across the room, you felt a bolt of fear quickly shoot through you. Who would’ve been stopping by unannounced this late and in the middle of a storm? 

When another round of knocks sounded a few moments later, this time not as urgent as before, you hesitantly began to unwrap yourself from within the comfortable and safe confines of your blanket. Leaning forward, you pushed the pause button on the television remote beside your wine glass before standing up. Cautiously you made your way over to the front door, nervously unlocking it before very slowly pulling it open.

A surprised gasp slipped out of you when you found Michael drenched on your front step, his dark hair matted to his head from the rain. A few beads of water were dripping down his forehead and his chin, the black sweater he was wearing clinging to his muscled upper torso. Your eyes were unable to resist lowering and lingering on the visible definition of his body beneath the soaked material, sucking in a sharp breath at the sight. Momentarily you wondered how he'd look without the sweater until a crack of distant thunder quickly brought your attention back up to Michael’s face. He was sheepishly smiling back at you. 

"Michael!" you exclaimed in surprise, your brain abruptly restarting as you stepped to the side and quickly waved him into your house. "Get inside, you're all wet!"

Following your order, Michael stepped inside past you, his arms wrapping around himself as he did. You closed the door after him before turning back around. He was still shooting you that sheepish smile, his sopping wet clothes dripping water onto your wood floor. 

"'M really sorry to pop in on ya like this, pet," he told you.

"What're you doing out walking in the freezing rain, Mikey?" you asked, concern creasing your brow. "There's a storm going on and you're out wandering around in it. And I thought you had a…family thing tonight?"

Michael unwrapped one arm from around himself, awkwardly rubbing his hand across the back of his neck. His gaze dropped down to the floor, that bit of timidness you sometimes saw in him on full display at the moment. Somehow that shyness only ever made you like him more.

"I don't–don't exactly know what came over me but I just–just had to get away from that house tonight. And my family–" he broke off with a grimace, shaking his head. "It just was not a good night and I needed to blow off some steam. And unfortunately it started to downpour while I was out walkin'. Sort of…somehow found myself here."

He wrapped his arm back around himself, hugging his chest as his gaze remained on your floor. Your heart ached for him. You knew how much he wanted out of his family’s drug dealing business and how they were making his life more difficult because of it. Though when you saw him visibly shudder from the cold, your concern for him in the moment took right back over. 

"Shit, you must be freezing," you said, crossing the distance between you both.

Gently you rested your hands over his, hissing in surprise at how cold his actually were to the touch. Michael's head rose up as he caught your eye, a small grin on his lips as you covered his hands with yours, hoping to help warm them.

"Well, I'll tell ya it wasn't the smartest thing I've done today, walkin' in the freezing rain like that," he replied with a laugh. "Then comin' here and botherin' ya."

"You're not bothering me, Mikey," you assured him, swiftly gesturing a hand to your sitting room where your empty remnants of dinner still sat on the coffee table. "It's not like I was in the middle of anything."

Michael glanced over his shoulder at your coffee table, a frown slipping onto his mouth as another chill raced through him. With your hands still wrapped around his, you could feel the way his body had shook this time. 

"Pet, I'm–I'm so sorry I canceled on ya tonight," Michael said, his teeth briefly chattering as he spoke. "Didn't mean to ruin your evenin'."

"You didn't ruin my evening, but now I'm concerned about you. You’re clearly cold," you told him, your hands rubbing over the backs of his. "I can offer you a towel to dry off a bit, but maybe you'd like to use the shower to warm up instead? I can throw your wet clothes in the dryer for a few minutes while you do. Might help you warm up faster."

One corner of Michael’s lips slowly curved upwards into a cheeky smirk. The sight of it on his face was quickly drawing heat into your cheeks and you hoped he couldn’t tell.

"Are ya just tryin' to get me outta my clothes, pet?" Michael teased. 

"What?" you gasped, eyes wide. "No! I just thought that you–you might–"

"Relax," he said with a chuckle. "I'm just teasin’ ya. But…I wouldn't mind takin' ya up on the offer. I am freezin' my arse off right 'bout now."

Releasing his hands, you stepped back and nodded vigorously at him. "Yeah, right. Of course. Just uh, just hop in the shower and leave your clothes on the floor next to the door. I'll throw them in the dryer when you're in the shower."

Michael nodded, slipping his wet shoes off of his feet where he stood. You watched him, gnawing nervously on your bottom lip and struggling not to picture him naked in your shower. Your eyes once again lingered on the way his damp sweater clung to the muscles in his back as he bent down, picking up his shoes from the floor before walking past you and placing them on the shoe rack beside your door. He sent you a smile as he stood back up, one that had your face further flaming.

"Just goin' to grab that shower then," he said, gesturing behind himself with one hand while the other rubbed his arm for warmth. 

You cleared your throat, a strained smile forming on your lips as your heart began to beat a little harder in your chest. Michael had always had an effect on you, but it had become vastly harder to ignore now that you knew he had feelings for you, too. But as you told him where to find the clean towels in the bathroom, you couldn’t help but feel desperate to follow after him and join.

As Michael made his way towards your bathroom, softly shuttling the door behind himself and turning on the shower, you tried to give him time to get undressed and into it before you grabbed his clothes to put into the dryer. Attempting to distract yourself from the rush of inappropriate thoughts suddenly racing through your mind, you headed back into the sitting room and turned off your television before focusing on cleaning up your empty glass of wine and the take out container on your coffee table. 

By the time you'd finished cleaning up and straightening your house a bit, you figured Michael would be in the shower and you could step in and grab his clothes. Making your way down the hallway and towards the bathroom, you stopped beside it, leaning up against the wall and knocking lightly against the door. 

"I'm just going to grab your clothes to toss into the dryer, if that's alright?" you called through the door to Michael.

"Thank ya, pet," Michael called back.

Closing your eyes, you mentally prepared yourself to not try to immediately sneak a peak of him through the glass shower door. Taking a deep breath, you opened your eyes and slowly twisted the handle of the door, keeping your gaze averted towards the ground as you opened it. 

Exactly as you’d asked, he'd placed his clothes on the floor beside the door. But just as you reached down to grab the damp pile to put into the dryer, you heard the glass door of the shower open and you startled at the sound. Unable to stop yourself, your eyes darted up to see Michael’s face poking out from around the glass. Bottom lip rolling between your teeth, you bit down hard and forced yourself to keep your focus on just his face, though you knew if you looked down–just for a second–you’d get a view of his naked body behind the frosted and steamed up shower door. And it was truly hard to resist that temptation, especially with the way he was shooting you a knowing smile right now.

"Unless ya want to join me?" he asked.

Your brows jumped up onto your forehead in surprise. That was not what you’d expected to hear him say, but nevertheless, a spark of excitement shot through your body at his invitation. 

“If ya want, of course,” he added. “Wouldn’t mind ya helpin’ to keep me warm, pet.”

It felt like the air had been knocked out of your lungs with the way he’d said that in such a sultry tone, continuing to stare at you while he was entirely naked from the inside of your shower. Swallowing hard, you tried to regain the ability to speak again before he took your silence to mean the opposite of what it really meant.

“I–yeah, if you–you’d like,” you stammered.

You dropped his clothes from your hand, hearing the way they landed back to the floor with a soft, wet thump . As you stepped further into the bathroom, not bothering to shut the door after yourself, Michael slid the shower door wider open, giving you an unobstructed view of himself. Hands grabbing onto the hem of your shirt, your eyes dropped down, tongue darting out and wetting your lips when you saw that he was already half hard.

“Might’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout ya already,” he confessed.

His words went straight to your cunt as you began to remove your shirt, though you saw his eyes lower towards your chest just before you pulled it up and over your head. A needy heat began to grow between your thighs as you tossed the shirt onto the bathroom floor. Reaching behind yourself, you undid the clasp of your bra, a thrill racing up your spine as you watched the longing grow on Michael’s face, his eyes still fixed on your chest. You intentionally slid the straps of your bra down your arms slowly, taking your time removing it before you tossed it aside. You saw the way Michael’s nostrils flared as you began to slip out of your sweatpants and underwear, his jaw tensed as you tugged them halfway down your legs until they dropped to the bathroom floor beside his wet clothes. 

As you stepped out of them, entirely naked now, Michael’s eyes openly and hungrily raked over your body. It felt like his gaze alone was raising goosebumps over your bare skin as you made your way over to the shower. He moved out of the way of the entrance, giving you room to step inside beside him under the warm spray. The water felt good against your skin, managing to heat you further as that sexy smirk only grew on Michael’s lips.

His hands gently landed on your hips, eagerly smoothing his palms over your slippery and damp skin. Your own hands lightly landed on the thick, wet hair along his chest. Appreciatively you began carding your fingers through it, nails lightly scratching along his chest as you admired the muscles beneath your fingers. Michael hummed out a pleased noise in response, his hands gripping your hips a bit more roughly in return.

Eventually your hands rose back up his chest, your palms splayed wide along the width of it just below his collarbones. You gently pushed Michael another couple of steps backwards into the shower, your confidence growing along with his erection. Reaching one hand behind yourself to close the shower door, you felt Michael’s hands make their way further up your naked body, gliding over the sides of your ribcage as a shudder ran through you.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” Michael murmured, his eyes appreciatively roaming over you.

A soft gasp left you as Michael’s hands slid just a bit higher, eventually coming to palm your breasts. He kneaded them in his hands, your eyelids fluttering as you fought to keep them open. It should’ve been impossible how good he was making you feel with only his touch, yet a moan vibrated up from out of your throat and only further encouraged him. As he continued to knead your breasts in his hands, your right hand snaked its way up over his shoulder until you were wrapping your arm around his neck, pulling his naked body in towards yours. You felt his hard cock pressing against you instantly and your cunt throbbed in anticipation of him finally fucking you with it. 

“You know,” you began softly, leaning in a bit closer to him, “I was thinking this wasn’t going to happen tonight.”

The corner of Michael’s lips twitched as he lowered his face towards yours, closing the gap even further as his hands released your breasts, dropping back down to grip your hips again. They involuntarily jerked towards him at the touch, a faint moan slipping out of you as more wet heat grew between your thighs. 

Fuck you wanted him so goddamn bad.

“Yeah?” he asked, clearly pleased with your response. “This what ya had planned for after dinner tonight, pet?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed out.

Your left hand lowered until you were wrapping it around the base of his cock, grinning at the way he jolted under your touch. Michael let out a low groan of pleasure after, his eyes becoming half-lidded as you gradually began to stroke the length of him. His forehead dropped down to yours, his warm breath tickling you with each exhale.

“Feeling any warmer?” you asked him.

“Mmm, much,” he whispered. 

Continuing to stroke him in your hand, your movements languid and unhurried, you closed the last bit of space between your mouths. Michael’s lips still felt slightly chilled against yours as you kissed him, but they were as plush as you’d last remembered them being. And like hell if he didn’t know what to do with that mouth of his, too.

Though it seemed like he was intentionally teasing you now with the way his lips moved so delicately against yours, kissing you so gentle and slow that you soon found yourself impatient for more. Your arm tightened around his neck, drawing you in tighter to the front of him as a needy noise slipped out of your mouth and into his. One of his hands on your hip began gradually sliding its way down the outside of your thigh until it came to a stop, pausing before changing its trajectory. His fingers began to reach ever nearer to your cunt and you soon found yourself whining against his mouth in anticipation of his touch. 

The hand you had on the back of his neck made its way further upwards into his hair, gripping a fistful of his wet, dark strands as your hips ground forward into his hand in needy desperation. Michael only continued to kiss you with that same sluggish pace, the tips of his fingers lightly grazing your clit as his other palm rubbed slow circles along your outer thigh.

Another pitiful whine left you when Michael’s lips broke away from yours, hovering just an inch from your mouth. Your hand began to stroke his cock faster in desperation, but Michael only nudged his nose softly against yours.

“Mikey,” you whimpered. “I need you.”

The deep, resonate chuckle that fell from him next echoed faintly in the shower. He hummed out a playful noise, the tip of one of his fingers intentionally brushing your clit with just a bit more pressure than before. You sucked in an audible breath at his touch, your eyes snapping shut.

“I can tell, pet,” he teased. “Though I think the question now is: d’ya want me to touch ya or d’ya want me to fuck ya?”

A shiver ran through you at his question. Truthfully you wanted both of those things, but you weren’t sure you could wait much longer for him, not with the way your cunt was practically dripping in barely contained anticipation already. Maybe once you were out of the shower you two could take your time in your bedroom with each other, but if he didn’t stuff you with his cock sometime soon, you were certainly going to lose your mind.

“I want you to fuck me, Mikey,” you answered, trying and failing to hide the absolute need in your voice. “We can save the foreplay for later. I just–just need you right now. Please .”

He nearly purred in response, the pad of one of his fingers sliding between your wet folds. You gasped in surprise, your hips involuntarily grinding down against his lone finger, hungry for more of him. 

“Yeah?” he mused. “Goin’ to want more than one go, are ya?”

You whimpered when his finger found your soaked entrance, gently toying with you. You leaned forward, roughly connecting your mouth back to his, tired of the waiting and the teasing. When the tip of his finger briefly dipped only partially inside of you before retreating, your teeth clamped down onto his bottom lip and tugged . A rumbling growl reverberated in Michael’s chest instantly, his expression suddenly darkening.

“Can't wait anymore, can ya? Then turn ‘round for me, pet,” Michael ordered huskily, gesturing with his head to the glass of the shower. “Face the door.”

Without hesitation you did what he asked, both of your hands landing flat on the cool glass of the shower door. Michael’s hands grabbed your hips, pulling them towards himself as he positioned you. Your eyes closed when you felt one of his hands running along your ass, admiring the soft, wet flesh as he lined himself up with your entrance. The warm spray of the shower overhead was falling onto your back now, the chill of the air on your damp breasts along with the anticipation of Michael filling you causing your nipples to stiffen.

Thankfully Michael had decided to stop teasing you, not making you wait much longer before you felt him push just the tip of himself inside of you. Your head rolled back over your shoulders, a contented groan slipping out between your lips. He already felt so fucking good and he wasn’t even fully inside of you. Hands pressing firmer against the shower door, you whimpered as your cunt squeezed the bit of him inside of you. Michael loosed a low moan of his own that had your breath catching.

"Want all of you, Mikey," you breathed out. "Please."

Very gradually he pushed himself further into you, another moan slipping out between your lips at the slow, delicious drag of him filling you so fully. Seconds later you felt his now warm mouth landing on your shoulder, trailing soft kisses down the length of it as he continued to gradually sink himself into you. 

“ Michael ,” you moaned out, fingers curling against the glass. 

He felt so damn good as he bottomed out inside of you, your cunt pleasantly stretching to fit the girth of him. Another whimper slipped out of you, your head dropping farther back over your shoulder as Michael pressed the front of himself into you, his thighs flush to the back of yours now. 

“That’s it, pet,” he whispered against your shoulder, lips brushing your wet skin as he spoke. “So good for me. Been thinkin’ ‘bout this for so, so long with ya. Goin' to make sure ya know how much I been wantin' ya."

You inhaled sharply at his words, the hair raising along your arms at the sound of them whispered so close to your ear. With his left hand still firmly gripping your waist, his hips carefully drew back as his right hand flew forward and landed on the top of yours. Entwining his fingers with your own, your hand still pressed against the cold glass, he began to thrust himself back into you. 

That first glide of him sent your head further back, landing on his shoulder behind you with how close he was standing. Michael’s fingers tightened around yours, a rumbling moan vibrating deep in his chest that you felt against your back as he began to pick up his pace. As he continued to slam into you over and over, the wet sound loud in the shower, his head turned as he focused on you.

“ Fuck ya feel so goddamn perfect ,” he panted out, his eyes tightening in pleasure as his hips snapped forward yet again. "So wet for me, pet."

Your cunt gripped him at the praise, your eyes closing. He continued to steadily fuck you against the glass, soft grunts falling from his lips and right into your ear with each sharp snap of his hips, the noise drowning out the spray of the shower. That coiling pleasure in your stomach began to tighten, your left hand leaving the glass to reach back behind you, grabbing onto the back of Michael’s neck as he continued to fuck you from behind. Michael hissed in pleasure when your nails raked up the sensitive skin there, his mouth still beside your ear. 

"Don't stop, Mikey," you whispered. "Feels so good."

“Not stoppin’ ‘til you’re cummin’ on my cock, pet,” he panted out, his hips still enthusiastically ramming into you repeatedly. “Want to hear ya whimperin’ my name between those pretty lips o’ yours.”

A soft whine dragged itself out of your throat, your eyes tightening closed at his words. His hand tightened around yours on the glass as he continued to fuck you, a delicious pleasure continually building low in your core. 

Between the fervid thrusts of his cock and the way his damp body had molded itself to the back of yours, you quickly began to feel yourself climbing that peak. You were nearing the moment you’d crest it with each and every vigorous slam of his thick cock hitting you exactly where you needed him, and you could feel that resulting delicious sting shooting its way up your spine until you were literally panting heavily, your head still limp against his shoulder behind you. 

“Mikey– fuck , yes–so close, baby,” you breathed out.

At your words, he picked up his pace to something fierce, his left hand snaking its way down your hip until his fingers were rubbing tantalizing circles over your clit, the heel of his palm pressing you back into him. Your eyes rolled back behind closed lids, mouth going slack instantly as a moan tumbled out of you. 

As he continued to roughly fuck you into the cool glass of your shower, your left hand slid higher up the back of his neck, fisting a handful of his hair as you felt the wash of pleasure race its way up through your body. Moments later you came hard on his cock, crying his name out loudly as it echoed off the tile of the shower walls. It wasn’t long before Mikey was soon following after you, his hips picking up their pace as he let out a low, sinful groan that left you whimpering in his arms. Your entire body soon went limp against him behind you as he filled you with his warm release, your head entirely weightless as it rested on his broad shoulder behind you where it rose and fell with the heaving of his chest. His loud, panting breaths filled your ears as you gradually opened your eyes and took in the sight of him.

The moment his gaze caught yours, a drowsy smile lit up his face while you sent him one clearly drunk on bliss and pleasure. With a soft chuckle he leaned forward, placing a few gentle kisses to your temple before he slowly slipped himself out from inside of you. 

“Hadn’t expected my evenin’ to go this way,” Michael admitted, his arm wrapping around your waist and snuggly pulling you against the front of himself. “But I’m certainly not regrettin’ that walk in the rain now.”

You giggled, your eyes dropping closed again as your left hand wrapped over the top of his. Both of your other hands were still enjoined on the glass door of the shower, Michael squeezing yours affectionately in response as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, the rasp of his beard on your skin sending a shiver through you.

“I’m certainly not regretting it now, either,” you teased back. “And maybe once you finally get warm after that walk, we can go not regret it a little more, if you’d like?”

“Mmm,” he hummed out beside your ear, his lips dropping down to lightly kiss your neck. “I think I’m already warm after that, pet. Wouldn’t mind takin’ ya to bed though.”

A grin slipped over your mouth as you slightly turned in Michael’s hold, facing him just a bit more. “Unfortunately I didn't have a chance to dry your clothes," you pointed out. "So they're still soaked."

He placed a lingering, open-mouthed kiss on your skin and a rush of heat once again raced through your body. Soon after, Michael’s teeth began to leave light nips along your neck, his hand reaching out behind himself to turn off the shower. 

"I assure ya, pet,” he murmured into your skin, "I'm not goin' to need them tonight."

[five-rivers]

Velveteen

Phic phight for @bibliophilea !

It was rich, velveteen black, strewn with diamond dust and the distant, misty gauze of nebulae.  The Earth and moon were both crescent-shaped far below, their curves and colors bright with reflected sunlight and the twinkle of cities.  The silence up here was complete, a rarefied and encompassing peace. At the same time, the gentle fizz of ectoplasm exposed to vacuum prickled over her skin.

Dani could understand why Danny liked it.  

The cold.  The quiet.  All fears made irrelevant by distance and enormity.  Everything was so big.  Everything was so small. 

Danny flew up next to her, beaming, already back from his tour collecting the space junk from this particular segment of orbit.  He created a bubble shield around The two of them and filled it with a haze of ectoplasm.  

“Well?  What do you think?” he asked.  His voice sounded off.  Ectoplasm wasn't air.  

“It's cool,” said Dani.  

“I know, right?  Can you believe we're only, like, a hundred miles up?  That's like driving to Chicago.”

Dani had been to Chicago before.  She hadn't driven there.  Or driven anywhere, actually.  Flying was better, but boats were also good.  

Flying straight up had also been a good deal less interesting than flying to Chicago.  

“You'd think more stuff would be here if it's only as far away as Chicago is from Amity.”

Danny shrugged.  “Up is hard.  But not for us!”  He did a little spin.  “If it wasn't for the Anti-Ecto acts, we'd totally be shoo-ins for NASA.  We'd save them so much money.”

“That could be fun,” said Dani, looking out past the shield, at the stars.  “Working together.”

Danny gently nudged her shoulder.  “You don't have to force yourself, you know.  Sam and Tucker aren't clamoring to find a way up here.”

“Yeah, but I'm your sister.”  And she was supposed to be him.  She'd be lying if she said it didn't make her feel… less real.  

As Jazz had told her ages ago, trauma didn't disappear overnight.

“Jazz isn't here, either.  It's okay.”

For a second, Dani wondered if he had read her mind, bringing up Jazz like that, but then she put Danny's statement back in context.  

“It is cool.  Being out here.”

“It's okay if you don't like it.”

“I do like it.”

“Dani, I'm not going to love you less just because we don't have the same hobbies.”

Well.  What was she supposed to say to that?

It was officially getting too serious and sappy around here. 

Dani let out a very put-upon sigh.  “It is nice.  But it's so empty.  And it took an hour to fly here.”

Danny's smile was soft, understanding.  “A bit much, huh?”  He settled back against the curve of the shield.  “What would you like to do, if it wasn't for the Anti-Ecto acts?”

“I don't know,” said Dani, floating down to rest beside him.  The shield and ectoplasm made the stars twinkle and blur again, but it was more comfortable to see them this way.  “Marine biology, maybe.  Or ocean wildlife rehabilitation.  Those sound cool.”

“Huh.  Maybe our next field trip could be to the bottom of the ocean.”

“Oh, yeah, that sounds cool.  Not that this isn't, I mean–”  She felt the tips of her ears flush with ectoplasm.  

Danny started to laugh.  

[epickiya722]

Just a headcanon, but if Yuji and Takako were distant relatives this is what I imagine.

They were already getting along before finding out they were related. They understood each other after one conversation. For Takako, it was nice that for once she had someone who listened to her after a very, very long time not having someone. Yuji was sympathetic, getting how it feels to not feel like you have an identity of your own... just a tool for someone else to later get rid of.

With Takako and Yuji getting along, Choso and Takako also would get along. They get how it feels to be out of place after being in limbo of sorts for many, many years. Also, both care a lot about Yuji and the feeling is mutual.

Yuji and Takako would have some interesting conversations. Takako would tell Yuji all about what she can remember of her life before her death and Yuji would talk to her about how society is now and even show her his favorite movies. Constant movie nights.

With Takako being around, it means run-ins with Yuta. She makes her mission to be a nuisance to him. When she found out about Gojo's existence and being related to Yuta, he became no expectation. For once, there was someone who bothers him.

When meeting the others, Takako actually brushed off seeing a talking panda. "I've seen stranger."

The subject of whether or not they were related was brought up by Miwa during a visit between Kyoto and Tokyo. She mentioned how her hair is naturally blue and Yuji told her about his hair being naturally pink and Takako the same. It lead to her stating they could be related since they both have pink hair.

Of course, it was argued it could have just been a coincidence. But Yuji and Takako were both delighted by the idea.

It took a very, very long time to track down any family history about the Itadori bloodline that they can, but they managed and after some research and tests it turns out there may be a possibility.

Like, Yuji, Takako is also indecisive about clothing. "I don't wear any when I'm using my technique!! Who cares about how clothes should look on someone anyways!!" Nobara never thought she had to school two Itadori's on clothing. Even Gojo was taken back. Takako loves jewelry though. And like Yuji with hoodies, she opts for tank tops.

She has quite the appetite and doesn't have a least favorite food. In the kitchen, she's quite lethal with a knife.

A couple of times, they got into it over snacks just how siblings do.

Anything sports related, the others have to make sure they're not on the same team. They're too powerful!

It was Gojo and Yuta who learned this the hard way when one day they decided to have a volleyball game without any cursed energy and techniques involved. Imagine how that went.

Turns out, Takako likes to dance and is really good at it. Yuji was quick to show her all the variety of music of today and how to access it. Takako will a cell phone means her constantly sending music and dance video links to Yuji in excitement.

[steviewashere]

I Feel Everything, All Too Much, And I Need a Hand Tonight

(also on ao3)

CW: Panic Attack(s), Unspecified Eating Disorder (not a main topic, but it's implied several times), References to Depression (not a main topic, but it's implied several times, The Word Queer is Used (not as a slur, but I never know who I'll upset)

wc: 5,130

Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Tags: Post Vecna, Post Season 4, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Coming Out, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Gay Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Steve Harrington Has Panic Attacks, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Protective Eddie Munson, Getting Together, Love Confessions, Minor Internalized Homophobia, Period-Typical Language, Implied/Referenced Drug Use (Marijuana)

---------------------- It's a late Saturday in July of 1986. The world isn't ending. Family Video is still open and as boring as ever. Every trailer at Forest Hills still creaks when the wind blows and when the sun is bright and burning. Eddie Munson is no longer a wanted man, still hated, but no longer faced with looming threat. Steve Harrington is still weird and panicked, but for a new, hesitant reason.

The world isn't ending and they can be young adults discovering the way of life after high school.

Since Chrissy Cunningham's death, Eddie has sworn to never sell drugs again. No more eyes popped from sockets, bones broken in three different places, jaws dropped in silent screams. The apparition of her young cheerleader body still floats in his living room, still twitches at the dark corners, still calls out for sanctuary. Eddie can't look at his lunchbox the same way, can't visit the forest the same way, and he most definitely cannot make deals the way he did. So, with all this leftover garbage, he is left with two options: use it or throw it away.

He doesn't want to risk somebody going through his trash can in search for a sweet ounce of cocaine or the K that Chrissy had been after. So he hides the hard stuff away. But the marijuana? That good green leaf? His own can of Popeye spinach? That's for him. For him and his new friends and their plethora of blood soaked nightmares and skin crawling screams.

It's a late Saturday afternoon in July of 1986 and Eddie finds himself laid out on the grass next to his trailer. A joint fizzled out into an ashtray on his left. Beside him, to his right, is Steve Harrington.

Steve's body is warm, but not sweltering the way the humid air is. It's stretched and toned, slightly more narrow than during their run-ins with the Upside Down—his shorts and wife-beater give him away. His body lays tense and rigid. tight between his shoulder blades and knees flushed inwards. The sweat shining on his face seems to barely faze him, not once is it wiped away or complained about or pushed into the wilting hair at his hairline. All of his limbs are pulled so hard that the muscles in his biceps and calves flex. His hands lay across his stomach. Fingers twisted and white knuckled and so close to breaking. Ankles crossed. Bare feet digging into the soil, toes flexing and popping all too audibly. His hair is greasy and knotted. Head picked and prodded. If Eddie were to drag his hand across Steve's scalp, he's sure he'd feel scabs and tangles of hair like the ends of friendship bracelet threads; tied up so that the beads don't go clattering to the floor. He's sure that if his fingers were to get caught and he tried to pry himself free, he'd hurt Steve. But at the same time, he's not even sure Steve would tell him that it was painful, he'd grunt maybe, but otherwise, he'd lay with his face still staring at the clouds, eyes glazed with a wet sheen, skin pale and gaunt. Eddie thinks he looks sickly. Looks distant. Seems to be caving into whatever black hole still breathes untamed in his chest; where his parents once stood, where Nancy said she loved him, where he felt like the world was easy to grasp and maneuver.

Eddie doesn't ask what's wrong. There's so many reasons that he could guess. Steve probably stands in each one. So he doesn't ask. Doesn't bother, but he scoots closer and rubs a hand over Steve's left arm. He wants to trace his fingers over to the mangled hands, force them to lay palm down and divorced. But he won't push his luck. Doesn't want to scare him away.

As soon as his palm makes contact with the tense skin, Steve sighs and his puppet strings are cut. Every muscle loosens. His eyes flutter close and tears slip down his temples, mixing with the sweat that has beaded there.

Steve tires to breathe through his nose and let it shiver from his mouth, but that only succeeds in making a sob cough from his chest. It's a release sort of thing, that much Eddie can tell. The pulsating mess that has been twisting and slithering and accumulating in Steve's aching lungs has melted like gum in stomach acid.

Eddie's palm squeezes where it soothes. He doesn't look at Steve. He whispers, "I've got you, Stevie. I've got you."

He doesn't know what started this. He isn't sure where Steve has been hiding. How, though he's been active within their friend circle, he's seemingly slipped through the cracks. Sliding across the halls of his empty home, the carpet in Family Video, his leather driver's seat as a timid, confused, shattered constellation of all the deceased residents of Hawkins, Indiana. Every teenage girl and boy that didn't get to go home from the community swimming pool, all the kids that bled to death by Henry Creel, and later the teens that snapped like pencils because of Vecna, Barbara Holland and her shotgunned beer scar, Billy Hargrove even if he was a terrifying bastard, Benny and his folk, Max Mayfield for a moment in time, Hopper in the breath of it all, Will Byers even if his was fabricated, and that fellow Alexi who seems to be Murray's own haunting shadow. To be this miserable for so long, hidden behind the smiles of people who had to rely on an older brother figure, on an old boyfriend, a platonic soulmate; that has to be exhausting, petrifying, depressing.

But, then again, Eddie isn't sure what is coursing through Steve's veins right now. Isn't aware of whatever turmoil he's glued in. Even if it presses against all the Upside Down trauma. Those nightmares are taking a back burner. This breakdown, it seems different.

Steve only had two hits from the joint before he decided it was enough. This is different. This is broken.

His breath stutters and wheezes. There's saliva pooling in his mouth. Tears pouring and sizzling and dribbling and creating lakes in his ears. Sounds claw through his throat, travel like bile to his mouth, and gargle against all the moistness behind his teeth. Everything inside Steve is bleeding into the air and evaporating, pouring back down across his face like hail, and starting the process over again.

Misery, Eddie notes. This is him dissolving. My best friend is deteriorating across the dirt and all I can do is promise something that can't always be true.

This is Steve Harrington after the Upside Down.

This is how he shatters.

How many times does this happen, Eddie wonders. Not often enough.

"Please don't go," Steve splutters and whines. All his energy is focused on crying and drowning. He doesn't even pull away. Doesn't even try to push at Eddie's hand. "Please stop, I can't..." he garbles.

He doesn't want to, but Eddie lets go. Let's his hand drop into the distance between them. Lets his ears open wide to Steve's heart that he carries conveniently around his neck. Lets his best friend choke himself to near death.

"I can't," Steve hiccups. "Need t' g' h'me," he slurs. Then, he shoots frantically upwards. Spine straightened. Fingers popping. Breath halting. He shifts to his knees and stands to his full height.

He gets one foot in front before being pulled to a stop.

"No," Eddie states firmly. "You aren't driving home like this. I'm taking you inside and you can rest on my couch. Don't have to say anything, but I'm not letting you get away and hide when you're like this." He doesn't mean to sound so harsh, but god is he worried.

Steve stands with his back to Eddie. He doesn't move. Doesn't say anything. His breath leaves him in hard pants. Over and over and over again.

"Please, Steve. Just come inside. I'll get you water or some beer, whatever. I need you to come inside," Eddie quietly pleads. "I'm scared you're going to do something or you'll disappear, alright? I've never seen you like this and it's been building. I'm scared for you," he whispers.

After Steve doesn't say anything again, Eddie lets go of his wrist. But, Steve doesn't leave. No, instead he continues to stand with his bare feet in the soil, breathing like he's about to throw up.

"Okay," he eventually whispers.

Eddie guides him inside to the couch. Steve plops down like a cement block. He pointedly doesn't move to sit closer to Eddie. He continues to stare straight ahead, like the wall of mugs is growing legs and aiming to tackle him to the floor.

The near silence is deafening. Wayne's alarm clock ticks in the corner. The trees rustle behind the trailer. A siren sounds near the far end of the street. Birds are quiet, they've already fallen asleep. There's no music. No snuffles coming from where Wayne's cot would usually be set up.

There's nothing in the face of everything that is going wrong with Steve Harrington. Eddie doesn't know what to do. Should I turn on the TV? Should I ask Max for one of her Kate Bush tapes? Should I bring my acoustic to the living room?

He chooses instead to sit patiently on the couch. If Steve wants to talk, he will.

Eddie glances over to Steve. To the left side of his face. It's blank. Creased around his mouth and between his eyebrows, but otherwise, it's lacking any sort of expression. He gets up and drifts to the kitchen cabinets. Rustles around for a tall glass, chucks some ice cubes from the freezer, and fills it with tap water. He brings it back to the living room and sets it down on the coffee table.

"Water," Eddie whispers. "Let me know if you want any snacks. I can get you anything." Steve just hums.

His figure still sits on the couch.

A porcelain doll forced into a small dining chair, waiting for a steaming cup of hot tea, or for their owner to wipe at their mouth. Neither comes. So they just sit.

Hauntingly, Steve does the same.

Eddie sighs and sits back down. He makes his eyes roam the shelves and racks of mugs. Reads several of them. Notes every crack and chip. Surmises that at some point, Wayne's diner mugs will merely just be red because the logos are so scuffed. He counts how many have images of fish. Which ones he's dropped and had to apologize fervently over. Imagines the mugs that would only taste like superglue. Hopes that his Garfield mug remains intact for the rest of his life.

He eventually gets bored and gazes at the hats instead. Ranks them from most to least comfortable. Counts all the sports related ones. Thinks back to the hats that Wayne would stuff over his curls if the rain was acting up and his raincoat just wouldn't do. Realizes that many of them are now too small for his own head. Wishes minutely that he could go back to being a little kid that Wayne constantly bought hats for on late night roadtrips. Many are from those same diners with red mugs. A handful are from thrift stores. Several have to do with fishing trips that young Eddie had been forced to sit in on and then be ushered home from because he would cry about the hook hurting the fish's mouth.

After another few minutes, Steve finally leans forward and takes a tiny sip from his water. He doesn't place it back down on the coffee table. Instead, he wraps his fingers around the glass and squeezes. Like he's trying to absorb the cold into his soul.

"Eds?" Steve timidly calls. Eddie turns around to look at him. His eyes are downcast, vividly watching the ice cubes dance in the glass, letting the condensation drip over the tips of his fingers. His hair is limp and falling in front of his face. His shoulders are tight and tense again.

Eddie cautiously scoots closer. When Steve inhales sharply, he stops moving. "Yeah? What's going on, Stevie?" he asks.

He shifts nervously. Eddie watches him take a tentative sip and then look away towards the kitchen.

"I need to ask you something," Steve starts. "And I also need you to not take it the wrong way, okay?"

The air in the room gets sticky, like Steve's skin when they were laying outside. Eddie clears his throat and nods. Then he states, "Whatever you need."

"Right," he hears Steve murmur. His thumbs trace the condensation droplets, they tap at the glass' rim, run up and down the sides, bump across the ridges of the rippling design. "I noticed...stuff in your room. And I was curious about them. There was one of those little magazines by your bedside. About queer people. And I just wanted to know, if you're comfortable answering, if...if you're queer?" he whispers the last word like saying it any louder would put a warrant out for his arrest.

Eddie is taken aback by how up front Steve is being about such a topic. Right to the point, he muses. But he takes in his form again. The timid voice. The hard strain of his fingers on the glass. All the tense muscles in his legs and back. How he seems to be falling apart between each breath he takes. And of course, the breakdown outside. Something finally slaps Eddie across the face. It's not the Upside Down. This is different, he concludes.

He clears his throat again. And very slowly, carefully says, "Yeah, Steve. I am." He doesn't reach out or say anything else that's clarifying. Just lets it sit in the open. Lets it float like the smoke from a joint.

Then, when the quiet seems all too large, follows with, "I like men."

Steve nods, but doesn't turn back around. His breath wheezes again and his eyes flutter closed once more. The glass shakes between his hands. Eddie places his palm against his wrist.

"Steve," he whispers. He also takes the glass from his grip and places it back on the coffee table. "Is this the thing that's been bugging you?" Steve shakes his head back and forth like a dog drying itself after a bath. He doesn't stop moving his head. "What's going on then? You can talk to me."

"I need you," he gasps. "I need you to say The Word."

"Gay?" Eddie questions. Steve hums affirmatively. "Okay," he breathes deeply in and exhales, "I'm gay."

Another round of sobs leave Steve's curdled mouth. Each one wetter than the last. More jarring and sharp and dangerous. He coughs and stutters and wheezes and shivers. He squeezes his fingers over his knees, digs his nails into open skin, bites down on his now noticeably cracked lips. Eddie keeps his palm firmly placed over his wrist.

"I think I'm like you," Steve chokes out. He continues to harshly cry. He's gonna give himself a migraine, Eddie thinks. But that admission strikes Eddie to his core. It cracks open his heart and shreds his muscles bit by bit. Every single gasp of breath and gargle of saliva bluntly slams against his ribs and shatters any healthy bone in his body.

On a seemingly languid Saturday afternoon, after hours of casual conversation about anything and everything, the joint being passed back and forth, and the morning where they had greeted each other; Steve Harrington crumples and shivers out an admission that may as well have stopped the moon from orbiting Earth. One that shushes the tides and collapses the coral reefs.

Eddie's been here. Wayne was in his spot and he took Steve's. He had mustered up enough courage to say he liked boys and nothing else. His uncle had gotten him water and a Tylenol and a warm comforter. And not once did he ask anything of Eddie. Didn't ask him to repack his things. Didn't usher him to the car and shame him in the one space he couldn't run away from. Didn't slam the door like Grim thumps his scythe. No, his Uncle Wayne called him Eddie for the first time, not Edward. He held him as his body shook. And he let the conversation go quiet. Let little Eddie scream into his chest and then, when his body went limp, Wayne carried him to bed and wished him a good night.

"And that's okay," Eddie states. "It's alright to be like that Steve. There's nothing wrong with it."

While Steve still won't look, he takes in a ragged, gasping, choking breath. He mutters, "It is when it's me. I'm wrong, Eddie." There's snot bubbling from his nose. Spit spilling from the corners of his gaping, gagging mouth. His face is blotched in various shades of pink and red and white.

Eddie reaches into his back pocket for his bandana.

He very gently touches Steve's jaw with his fingertips. The bandana tickles against his chin. "Turn your face to me," he whispers. He wipes over Steve's mouth and dabs at the edges of his nostrils. With his unoccupied hand, Eddie guides one of Steve's to grasp at the bandana. He ducks down to be in his line of sight. "I want, no, need you to understand something, okay?" Steve blinks.

"Nothing is wrong with you." When Steve squeaks to protest, Eddie shakes his head softly. "Nothing. And I know you don't believe me. I know it because it took me a very long time to believe that about myself," he takes a shaking breath. "I'll tell you what Wayne told me.

"'There is nothing bad about love.' Loving somebody is completely natural, right? And even if somebody doesn't ever love another person, they still find that in other things. Like, I love my guitar. That's one thing. Max loves skateboarding. There's another.

"Loving somebody or something isn't wrong. And not loving somebody or something also isn't wrong. It's something that just occurs. Like crystals or the rising sun or fallen pinecones from trees. It just happens. Nothing wrong with it, does that make sense?" Eddie asks. Steve nods and blinks at him. "Okay. Good, that's good," he whispers.

Steve sniffles. Eddie looks into the middle distance of his living room. The black TV screen shines back at him. In the reflection, he can see the two of them. He can see a young Eddie and Uncle Wayne. Right now, he sees two boys roughly the same age. Yet, Steve looks haunted beyond his years. He's exhausted, rung out. Slumped into himself. Smaller than before Spring Break.

His eyes wander to Wayne's alarm clock. 5:28.

"We'll talk more in a bit, if you want. But can I make you dinner" Eddie quietly asks. Steve still doesn't talk, just nods in agreement and stares down at the bandana resting in his grip. His fingers play with some of the fraying hem. He twists the cloth and lets it go limp again.

It doesn't take too long for Eddie to come back with dinner. Just a couple grilled cheese sandwiches and bowls of tomato soup. Steve hasn't had much more of his water and isn't crying anymore. He just sits, blankly staring at his hands, blinking distantly, and breathing shakily.

"Your dinner is on the table Stevie," Eddie says. He nibbles at his own food, slurps at his soup, and silently prays that Steve will listen. He doesn't move. "Steve?" Eddie calls out.

Suddenly, it's like a magic spell is broken and Steve's eyes find Eddie's.

"What's goin' on?" he questions. Steve just blinks back. "Please eat," he begs. A shaking head is what he gets in response. "Just try some of it? You're making me really worried and I don't know what else to do."

Steve hesitantly takes a few bites of his sandwich from where it sits cold on his plate. He doesn't touch the soup at all, but it's a start. Eddie breathes a sigh of relief from next to him.

After several minutes of stilted silence with the occasional jaw pop from chewing, Steve whispers, "I feel like I'm losing my mind." As Eddie brings his sandwich up for the last bite, all his movements freeze. Suddenly, he's back in the forest searching for a jumpy Chrissy Cunningham, he's walking her to his front door, he's leaving her vulnerable body in his living room, and then he's fleeing as far as he could possibly go. "I don't know what to do," Steve timidly admits.

"What? What do you mean Steve?" Eddie breathes, petrified.

"I—" His mouth opens and closes, no other syllables escaping. But he breathes in. A thousand emotions flash behind Steve's eyes, even if none make themself present on his face. Horror. Shame. Embarrassment. Attraction. Anger. Acceptance. "What's it like? Being gay?" he pushes out from behind the crease of his eyebrows.

Eddie's movements falter again. Every muscle in his body spasms. His heart flutters. His brain seizes. But he doesn't back down. "It's. It's a little isolating, I guess," he answers first. "I've been different from all my peers since I was a kid in elementary school. Other kids would dare me to kiss girls or play footsie with them or write them love letters. It just felt...I'm not sure. Like I was lying?

"I've been in situations too where I feel guilty for being myself. For not doing what they'd tell me. When I would defy my father's request of having sex with girls in the future. He was so, pushy, about making sure I ended up with a woman. A good one. And I didn't know how to tell him that that fantasy he had was never becoming reality. Because it wasn't me.

"Being gay isn't something wrong. It isn't supposed to feel that way, but people treat you differently because of it. People pick on you more. Beat you up. They shout things at you that are so visceral you start to wonder if God would tear them down too. Being aware that I like men is sometimes halting. Like, I become self aware or something.

"So, for instance," Eddie breathes in. What am I about to say, holy shit. "When I'm masturbating? I'm not looking at Playboy or something. I'm not staring down a set of tits. I'm not thinking of vaginas and eating out girls...I'm thinking of penises sitting heavy on my tongue. I'm thinking of being pushed down into a mattress and getting hit from behind. I'm thinking of kissing men that smell like aftershave, not women that smell like cherry chapstick.

"When I'm masturbating and I'm looking at gay porn, I feel like I'm catching myself. Almost every time. I'm thinking, holy crap, this is a man on this page. And it panics me a little bit. It kinda makes me have to think about what I'm doing. It's eye opening, to say the least. To realize that one of my classmates or a close friend or something is casually having sex with women or looking at pictures of boobs. And I'm just kind of a barren wasteland? I have to go out to seedy bars or secret underground clubs or wear certain accessories to try and get somebody in my bed. And even then, most of the time, I'm having quiet sex in a bathroom or behind bleachers or in a locker room because straight boys don't want to be found out.

"Being gay is kind of lonely. But at the same time? It's freeing once you come to know it. I have faith, though things look bleak for people like me right now, that at some point in the future, I can be as open as I want to be. I can brag about my hookups or flirt in public or hold hands with another dude across the table at a diner. I believe we'll get there, it's just isolating right now. Does any of that answer your question?" Eddie breathes, staring at Steve's profile once more.

"Yeah," he whispers. "I just. If I tell you something, you won't punch me, right?" He asks, making direct, purposeful eye contact with Eddie. His eyes aren't a deep brown, but with how intense everything has been today, they could be. Eddie could blink and be caught staring at his own eyes.

"Of course Steve. Unless you're asking me to hide a body, then I'm out the door because I can't go through a fiasco like that so soon," he jokes.

Steve chuckles wryly. He runs a hand through his hair one, two, three times. Further messing up any chance of perfection atop his head. Then again, his hair has seen better days. His body has seen better days, that's something Eddie notices. Since waking up in the hospital at the start of April, he's noted every single time he's seen Steve. How exhausted he is. How hungry he always seems, or sometimes doesn't seem. The way he carries himself, like a rigid piece of wood, ready for an axe to come swinging down across his torso. The moments where they wouldn't come across each other, when Robin states that Steve's feeling under the weather.

Now Eddie realizes what that really was. Him hiding. Him being frightened. Him having to lie to protect himself. Him feeling like he's wrong.

Steve looks down at his lap. "I realized something was different about me when we came back from the Upside Down," he starts. "I think maybe it began with Tommy Hagan in 1983? How rejected I felt when he spat in my face the last time we talked. But I couldn't put an understanding to the way my heart just hurt.

"And then in 1985, Robin talked about Tammy Thompson. Some part of me started to flutter with something. Like, sure, I was turned down when I went to ask her out. Then again when Nancy walked away from me back in March of this year. But something started to scorch in my chest when I saw you in the hospital after the demobat attack," he admits.

Eddie's curiosity has piqued a new level. He feels like he knows where this is all going. He knows where his own heart beats in all of this. He has wished since he first saw Steve in high school that a moment like this would come. But in this moment, he swallows down any hope and puts on a straight face. Don't scare him, he tells himself. He hums to signal that he's listening and gestures for Steve to continue.

"I think I finally figured out what it was. And I was just terrified to confront it. So I hid away and tried to stay focused on the other people around me. And I think it's just been eating at me. I don't know how else to say or where else to say it," Steve sighs and wipes a hand down his face. He looks down at his palm, it's shaking.

"Eddie, I'm stupidly in love with you. Like I'm crazy about you. It scares me, I've never felt this way before for another guy. And I really don't want to lose you as a friend. And I'm sorry if I've made you uncomfortable, I just can't hold onto this any--"

He comes to a stop when he feels Eddie's hands holding his. "Hey Steve," he whispers. Those three words that didn't spill from his mouth back in March. The ones that would've marked a bitter end had Eddie not come around. Three little words that he hopes taste better in July. "I understand, okay?"

Say it. You could die tomorrow. Say it. No more running. Say it.

"I love you," Eddie swears, vehemently, like a prayer that should be delivered right to God's lap.

Steve's eyes are shining, his body perks, he looks almost instantly healthier. "Really?" he breathes, disbelievingly.

"Yeah Stevie. I swear on Dustin's mother," he sighs. "I'm stupid crazy for you. I just didn't want to push you to that realization," he runs his thumbs over Steve's knuckles. He imagines bringing them to his mouth to peck across each individual bone, but he knows that would be overwhelming. Especially since Steve is just now confronting every emotion that's been bottling in him for months now. He's just now admitting to this thing that's been festering in him as a mistake.

He continues to hold Steve's hands while gazing into his eyes. Up close he can see every spatter of green against the array of hazel-brown. He can watch the daylight travel through his body. Steve still looks...well not good. Not at all. His skin is still pale and thin. All the hair on his head is stringy and undone and terribly knotted. His face is dotted with moles, yes, but is also blotched in various places. He looks miserable and sickly, but he looks relieved and somehow, new.

"Can you kiss me?" Steve quietly asks.

And how can Eddie say no?

He leans in, as slow as he can to give Steve all the time to move away if he's still unsure. But when he doesn't, Eddie surges forward and lightly presses his lips to Steve's. They're chapped and warm. Greasy too from the grilled cheese sandwich. His breath tastes like cheese and marijuana and hot tears. When he parts his lips, Eddie doesn't push into him. He isn't ready to be rough and needy and heated. So, when he's satisfied with the taste across his own lips, he pulls away.

Steve has his eyes closed when Eddie sits back. Eyelashes brush under his eyes and fan out like flower petals. He cups his cheeks to hold him gently. The skin under his palms is warm. He can feel the small smile that adorns Steve's puffy face. Every tacky tear track. All the cold spots on his skin. The raised areas from past Upside Down incidents. His moles.

"That was nice," Steve whispers.

"Yeah?" Eddie quizzes while chuckling. Steve nods against his palms. "Good. And Steve?"

"Wh't is it?" he asks.

"I want to be careful with you. We take this at your pace. Okay?" Eddie explains.

"Okay," Steve agrees. He tilts his head to the left, kissing Eddie's palm. "You'll be careful with me," his small smile grows enough to push his cheeks upwards.

"Yeah. And," he takes a deep breath. "We'll go crazy together, right?"

"Crazy together," Steve confirms.

And when Eddie chances one last look before kissing him again, he notes that Steve looks at peace. He looks satiated. He looks...loved.

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

[dr-xanders-diary]

Our beginning.. The END..

God, how I wish things were back to normal. We've had 9 run-ins' since we first started to see each other. I know, that's a lot. But, I've handled myself well, with each one. But now things have become much more complicated, difficult even. How did things turn out like this? Well. It's simple really. Lets go through how the events unfolded, in order. Shall we?

After we set up our engagement party and started to plan our wedding we slowly began to lose touch with each other, well. You started to lose touch with us. Despite that though, we enjoyed as much time as we had together, between the planning, working and moving in to a three bedroom home. We were-, well busy. Maybe too busy for your liking. And as time went on, as our wedding date got closer, you-. You began to drift away. I knew it would happen, so I let you have your time to collect yourself, and did my best to reel you back in. To make you happy again.

You were finding joy in your little trips overseas more than when you were with me, despite you living out your wildest fantasies with me. A part of me was jealous, a part of me despised that. A part of me hated that. You being happy without me? Hah. Right, that's when I realized there was more to your little trips overseas. Why they became more frequent, why you started to go alone, why you and Stacy weren't as close anymore and there was a wall of tension between you. I knew what was happening: to begin with, you aren't exactly the most careful person. Especially in the little details. Your secrets aren't so secretive, my dear. But it's okay, I forgave you, because you still planned to marry me, right. Right? Fuck, of course you planned to, how could I doubt you. I know you.

Each time you came home from your trips you were tired, distant, cold, especially on the first day back. You'd warm up again the second day being home, after each trip. I was fine with this, I was content as long as you were coming home, coming home to me. Nothing else mattered. I didn't mind you relieving your stress on your little trips. Really I didn't.

Our wedding came and went, it was beautiful, it was perfect, your perfect day. Several of our guests cried, congratulated us, even Stacy showed up. During the reception she came up to me with a sad look in her eye, she tried to hide it behind her kind smile, but I could tell. She placed her hand on my shoulder with as soft as a pat as she could muster and said, "Congratulations ****** (X), I know you'll treat ***(you) right. I-.. hope ***(you) knows what they have. I don't think ***(you) knows just how lucky s/he is. You're a good man ******(X)". An honest to god genuine compliment, which hardly came from anyone in your friend group, and having known Stacy, I knew she meant it from the bottom of her heart. She seemed so pained when she spoke, so-, torn. I knew why. She only gave you a soft smile before the end of the night and you two didn't exchange any words. Your father was so overjoyed that you married "Such a good man", in his words. His toast to us was even quite beautiful as well.

We spent our honeymoon overseas, in Italy, and at first you were very upset that I would bring you there, but I knew, this was your favorite place to be. You thought it came down to pure coincidence didn't you? The location, the hotel, the room. Yes you were riddled with panic, with guilt and paranoia at first. But I-, I wanted to override your memories of that hotel, of that room, of that very city, and all of Italy. I wanted to wipe your conscious of what you thought you did in the dark behind my back. Do not ever forget, you are mine. We are bonded, my love. We wrote it in stone. It's in our vows. And I will make sure, that you will always be mine.

And this brings us close to date. Since then, it's been; 5 years, 7 months, 15 days, 10 hours, and 15 seconds. Now I know that you've been sneaking around, going on 'Business trips', going back to your favorite little problem. It's becoming an issue for us, darling. I forgave you, I still forgive you even. As long as you come home to me. I knew it would be a hard habit to break-. Because you get swept up, so easily. You can't even tell the danger you are in. And then, it happened. The worst thing that could happen to us. The worst thing you could do to us. You brought a slimy bastard into our life, you introduced us. I tried. Oh did I try to be nice, I tried to play nice. I am trying so very hard, but how could you bring this man into our home, where we sleep, where we live. How dare you.

From then I knew you were sneaking around, at hotels, his hotel room. That you paid for. I found out-, you loved him. You-, you loved him more than me, and you wanted to get rid of me. And I snapped. You wanted to be rid of me? The only person who truly loves you, the only person who went through such great lengths to get you, to know you down to the smallest detail, the one who went through such great lengths to keep you. No. No no no, no. You're confused, you don't really love him. You just love how spontaneous he is, how he doesn't seem to have a care, because things seem so easy for him, but he has nothing. He is nothing. You just can't see it.

So.. Let me show you.

I took my time preparing everything for him, for you. I lined the bed with some very durable plastic under the comforter, and lined the room floor with some as well, just to make sure there's no surprise messes. And I sat and waited, for your usual routine, you'd both show up at 5:45pm, on the dot, never any sooner or any later. But you didn't two didn't show up. "Where are you? It's getting dark." Things were seemingly out of my control, I waited an entire hour. Then checked my phone, saw in my notification you sent your location.

You- pinged me? You're at home.. But why? Today is your day with Antoni. And you know that I'm supposed to be out of town-. Oh. You dirty bitch. You brought him to our home didn't you.

I immediately began to roll up and folded all of the plastic covers I had laid out, cleaning up and putting away everything into my duffle bag. I left the hotel room duffle bag in hand, I made sure to leave not a single trace of me behind. I got into my car and drove home as calmly as I could. I parked on the street nearest our driveway, as I got out I could see dim lights from our upstairs bedroom, flickering behind the curtain. And a dim light from our family room, by now the sun was beginning to set, it was already 7:34pm. I walked to our front door, it was locked, I went to the back door around the house, you two left it unlocked. You snuck him in. I made my way inside looking into the kitchen, there was two plates of half eaten food, a half empty bottle of wine on the counter. Walking past, looking into the family room I saw two half drunken glasses of wine on our coffee table.

What the fuck babe. Did you have fun wining this man in our home?

As I made my way to the first steps of the stairs, I heard it, the sound of your voice, a soft chuckle, followed by his voice and his thick Italian accent, "Are you sure it's okay? Why don't we run away together my love". As I slowly made my way up the steps I could hear the slow creaking of our bed, you two were fucking-, and then I hear you say it, "Don't worry Antoni, I don't love him anymore, you're the only one I love" then, hearing you say that made something inside me snap. As you two continued to defile our home, our bed, I had made my way up the stairs into the hall only to see our bedroom door wide open. Antoni laying atop of you, bare as he place gaze into your beautiful eyes. I knew how he felt, like he had stolen something prized, but he didn't actually care about how I would feel, those were just false sympathies to save his face. But he would care, very soon.

The time between those moments of my standing in the doorway of our bedroom and hearing you shout when you saw me, blended together. Filled with rage, and resentment as you tried to cover yourself as if I hadn't seen you naked before, as if you were ashamed. As Antoni got up from the bed as if he just wanted to talk-, none of it mattered. I would show you what did matter, though. The moments blurred as I stomped towards Antoni, and clenched my fist as I swung my right arm, the knuckles of my fist roughly hitting against his cheekbone and breaking the skin. The hit to him made him stumble back a bit. This well toned, 5'10" Italian man, caught himself against the bed, glaring at me with just as much hate as I had for him.

Time seemed to blur as we would hit each other over and over, and push each other against the furniture in the bedroom. Our fighting, our thrashing causing us to make our way into the hall, you hurriedly put on some clothes as you followed and shouted. Antoni grabbed me and pulled me into a headlock, I'd jab and punch at his sides, pushing him against the stair rail as he tried to choke me out. Slowly losing my breathe before the impact of slamming him into the stair rail caused his grip to loosen and set me free, but made us lose our balance as we'd fall down the stairs. Falling down onto the landing, a vase would fall and shatter beside him, the wind almost knocked out of both of us from the fall. I kicked Antoni's hip as hard as I could, the kick forcing him down the rest of the stairs, he grabbed onto my pant leg, and I grabbed a shard of the broken vase as I was pulled down the steps.

Landing a few steps above Antoni as he slowly got onto his knees, screaming obscenities at me, I would get up and shove the vase shard into his back right along his shoulder. My hands cut by the shard in my hand as I forced it into his muscles. "How dare you come into my home, and fuck my partner, in my bed" the words almost came out with as much hatred and gravel as a scream. He swung his arm at me, hitting me across my lower abdomen as I went to grab him by his hair, only to roughly slam him into the wall against his back. Splattering blood onto the wall. We fought for what seemed like eternity, and you got into the mix trying to get us apart, we both hit you. By the end of it all I was a sweating panting mess, and Antoni was crawling toward the garage to escape, bruised, scratched, and stabbed. I stomped my boot down as hard as I could against the vase shard in his back, shoving it in deeper into the muscle and bone causing the shard to shatter, making him cry out. I kneeled down and grabbed his thick black hair and yanked his head back as he begged to go home.

Fucking coward.

"You wont be going anywhere-, neither of you will," my voice came out as a horse whisper as I reached my free hand down to firmly grip onto Antoni's jaw, his eyes widened as he realized what I had meant and began to scream. An almost sweet sound to my ears before the sudden silence as I jerked his head accompanied with a quick snapping sound of bones, his body going from tense to limp in a matter of seconds. Bruised, tired and full of rage fueled me further as you'd scream and shout, calling me obscenities and as you called me a monster. And then everything.. went dark.

.

.

.

.

.

.

"It's been several months-, no.. it's been a year since our wedding and 7 months since our anniversary. Who would have thought that things would have come down to this. I would have thought that our honeymoon in Italy would have solidified things for you, would have erased those dirty memories from your mind, and replaced them with our time together. Did I not please you enough? Was I not as spontaneous as you would have liked?" I had grabbed you and shoved you onto your back under your lover. You had fought me hard, and couldn't answer me as you cried as I wrapped Antoni's lifeless hands around your neck, slowly squeezing. "You want to leave me, and leave with him, go right ahead be my guest.." You scratched and hit at my arms, and scratched at Antoni's face as you began to slowly choke and loose your breathe. Terrified to die by your dead lovers hands, and by my own in turn.

It's not so fun being choked outside of the bedroom now is it?

Finally we cut off your breathing completely, crushing your windpipe with Antoni's hands. Your eyes filled with tears and the look of fear as life slowly left your eyes and your body went limp, your arms slowly falling to your side. I spent a few minutes gathering and putting on Antoni's clothes and tearing them up a bit where you had scratched and where I hit and stabbed. The candles in the bedroom had began to set the curtains aflame in our bedroom. I had limited time to gather anything I wanted, so I only gathered the important things, things I'd need.

By the time the police came, our house was set aflame, and the fire department was trying to contain the fire. I was questioned and by my looks the officers concluded I had suffered a severe break in to my home. As I sat against my car watching our house, our life, our memories burn down despite the fire departments best efforts, I also watched our history and everything that had ever happened between us, and what happened that night burn down too.

"A simple phrase could have made everything better.."

Over the next few weeks I would be brough into the police department for my statement, your family and friends would reach out to give condolences. Your funeral came and went, the hotel refunded the money from the hotel you had paid for, for Antoni. One friend, Stacy stopped by when she couldn't get a hold of me, when I'd sit in our old driveway. She would find me and sit with me for a few hours, in silence as I would stare at the burned down remains of what we had. Until one day Stacy patted me on the back and told me, "It shouldn't have ended like this. But you're a good guy X*******. You'll be okay". She had no clue what actually happened but her words rang through me. I sat there long after she left, I thought I was a monster but something in me clicked, when Stacy had told me that. Maybe Stacy was right, maybe I am a good guy, but maybe I also am a monster. I stood from my car and walked up to the charcoaled rubble of our old house, giving a last goodbye.

I never did get to recover much from the fire, your father was devastated, your family was broken, and your friends were in shambles. And as I got into my car and began to drive away, I looked at our house one last time.

This was our end.

And I loved you..

To the very end.

[isfjmel-phleg]

Most of the comics I'm familiar with veer away from going into any particular depth about their protagonists' religious beliefs, if any. This is a deliberate choice; you can reach a wider audience by avoiding getting too specific about potentially polarizing topics. For instance in Impulse, Max introduces Bart to the concept of religion and encourages him to figure out his own personal views, but this is as far as the issue is ever addressed.

So I was surprised to find that The Ray 1994 not only features a protagonist who has explicitly been brought up religious (Catholic) but also occasionally addresses his faith in everyday life. Is it always a great or accurate portrayal? Well...no. But all the same, I would like to examine the role of religion in Ray's story and how it impacts his character and the narrative.

It is established that the Terrill family, which includes both of Ray's parents and his uncle (by implication) are Catholic. When Ray is forced to live through a version of his father's memories in the role of his father, his mother is seen in the hospital after giving birth, surrounded by a priest and two nuns. They're also present at the funeral staged to convince Nadine Terrill that her infant son died.

(The Ray 1994 #0)

Exactly how devout the family is is unclear, but we do get references to prayer from Happy...

...as well as his confidence that the situations leading to his getting his powers are divinely orchestrated.

(The Ray 1994 #9)

We see less of Nadine's specific faith, but we do know that she refused to have her child aborted when her husband pressured her to, a stand very likely influenced by her Catholic worldview.

And Thomas Terrill raised Ray in the Catholic faith and had him tutored/homeschooled by nuns, the ones seen in the panel above. Unfortunately, the portrayal of Sister Mary Rose and Sister Rosemary (...as you can tell by those names, yikes) is highly caricatured. They're stereotypes rather than believable representations--one of them is exaggeratedly stern and always holding a ruler, for instance, but actually the most egregious thing might be that they're for some reason in league with a guy who has a weird candle-based cult? This is never explained or even brought up again after the first series (which is less sympathetic to Ray's religious background than the second series, I think--the two series had different writers).

So Ray has been tutored by nuns who have somehow strayed into this weird cult and therefore cannot be regarded as reliable in what they have taught him of his faith. This is going to affect his understanding of God, of Christianity.

As does the nature of his upbringing. The narrative doesn't get into what it would be like to be Catholic for someone who grew up not allowed to leave his house in daylight. He can't go to mass. He can't go to confession. He's never been to church at all. Although it's probable that his parish would have some kind of ministry to shut-ins, he would be mostly isolated from his religious community. Has he even been confirmed? We don't know.

We do know that he struggles with guilt, though, and that he associates this with God--not resentfully, but something like a very distant father figure who is constantly disapproving of him. An impression that's not unlike his actual father.

(The Ray 1994 #1)

This is discussed when Ray thinks he has killed Kon. He recalls how Sister Mary Rose taught him to pray and how in that moment God felt real and present to him, but now that he believes he has done something horrible, he feels distanced from God and unable to pray at all. The religion that she portrayed to him is one associated with guilt.

(The Ray 1994 #2)

But it turns out that Kon isn't actually dead, and Ray believes that God has given him a second chance.

And in his understanding, this is transactional, so he believes he owes it to God to save lives in return for that second chance.

There hasn't been much concept of mercy and forgiveness (which are actually crucial to his faith!) in what Ray has been taught. Whenever he experiences some kind of guilt or shame, he returns to the headspace of his childhood/youth with Sister Mary Rose.

(The Ray 1994 #3)

When he first activates his powers, he regards it as a sort of religious experience. Note the cross-like imagery in the panel in which we first see him.

(The Ray 1992 #1)

Later, he describes the light as having "baptized me." For him, this would be an association with rebirth, with liberation from sin. As the Catechism of the Catholic Church puts it,

Having received in Baptism the Word, "the true light that enlightens every man," the person baptized has been "enlightened," he becomes a "son of light," indeed, he becomes "light" himself [...]

And what Ray experiences is a sort of literalized version of that.

(The Ray 1994 #0)

When Ray time-traveled and is involved in his father's acquiring his powers, we see that for Happy, this experience is described in religious terms, especially related to baptism, also. Happy, who is a professional writer, is much more flowery about it, but the sentiment is the same.

(The Ray 1994 #10)

But the difference between father and son is that Ray's understanding of religion, however skewed in other ways, has given him a mindset of humility, while Happy upon empowerment goes straight to hubris.

This issue is titled "The God Complex," something that Happy has clearly developed as he sets out to attack a Japanese fleet in the aftermath of Pearl Harbor. He believes himself authorized to kill these men, even as he prays for them and asks for God's mercy on himself.

Which is rather hypocritical and falls flat as it's reinforced that he thinks of himself as God.

Ray has to intervene and tell him point-blank that he isn't.

Ray seems to believe that his powers do not make him divine but were a fortunate gift that does not entitle him to "dictate morality."

But his father (actually video game villain Death Masque in disguise) repeats this sentiment to him after Ray is struggling with his failure to save every life on a plane whose crash he prevented.

(The Ray Annual #1)

The most overt way in which we see Ray practice his faith is through prayer--something that he learned to do as a child and that was freely available to him even at home, and he does a lot of praying while trying to stop that plane.

Including the Lord's Prayer/Our Father, although as a Catholic, he should be saying "trespasses" and "those who trespass against us" rather than "debts" and "our debtors." Note that he is cut off before he can get to "but deliver us from evil."

Ray's religious views have affected Death Masque, the video game villain he programmed--Death Masque uses religious terminology ("I have no use for idol worship," "I will have no other gods before me," etc.) and has a god complex, probably as a reflection of Happy since Death Masque is initially created as Ray's vehicle for dealing with his dad issues.

Vandal Savage influences Ray's beliefs for the worse by offering him blasphemous advice--telling Ray to baptize himself in his anger and assuring him that he has the powers of a god.

(The Ray 1994 #19)

After going to work for Savage, Ray's faith comes up less often, and he seems to get more out of touch with it as he is led astray by various devil-figures. These include Savage himself, which even Ray acknowledges (he admits in #16 that in joining with Savage he has "made a deal with the devil"), and the demon Neron.

When Neron, in disguise as a woman, offers to make a deal with Ray in exchange for his soul, Ray's response is to laugh at the idea and insist that "you can't actually take somebody's soul." Even when he finds out he's talking to a demon rather than a human, he finds the idea ridiculous and seems hazy on what the concept of a soul is at all--quite a lack of catechesis.

(The Ray 1994 #19)

He initially agrees to the deal but on his way to complete the mission Neron gives him, his conscience resurfaces and he realizes that he's making a mistake.

Later, after he tries to talk over what happened with his mother without actually telling her what happens, Nadine will tell him, "Do what you have to do to solve your problem--but never sell your soul."

And as he gets further embroiled in the situation (part of a crossover event), he prays for a chance to redeem himself.

(Underworld Unleashed #3)

Redemption will be a theme in the final arc of the series, which follows a possible future timeline in which an adult Ray turns evil as a result of his involvement with Savage--metaphorically selling his soul to greed and corruption and power-lust. As he lies dying, murdered by one of his many enemies, a voice enters his head, offering him a chance to redeem himself--"It won't save your life--but maybe--you can save your soul."

(The Ray 1994 #25)

The voice is someone on another planet asking for help, and there's a long story that ensues from there, but the short version is that this chance turns out to be another deal with a metaphorical devil, but he ultimately gives the planet a chance at a better existence by absorbing the villain's energy into himself, and when he is returned to his own time to complete his death, he is able to do so and be at peace.

Back in his own time, he averts the future of his turning to evil by making better choices--saving the life of his still undeserving and ungrateful father, trying to rescue his brother, realizing that his priorities have gotten out of order and breaking off ties to Savage, and reconciling with his mother. None of this is portrayed in overtly religious terms, but the point is his need to do what is moral rather than what is selfish.

In conclusion, Ray is in a worse state when out of touch with his faith--whether through a distorted version filled with guilt or when he disregards his morals. Prayer is seen as a positive thing, showing a willingness to self-reflect and rely on a higher power. The dangers of hubris are illustrated. The powers of a being of light are viewed in a religious perspective, and Ray is even equated to an angel a couple of times (when he arrives in 1941, his father initially mistakes him for Gabriel, and on another occasion, his mother regards him as an angel looking out for her), but beings of light, it's made clear, are not gods but gifted servants. Redemption is an ultimate theme, and Ray is at his best when he is self-sacrificial. The narrative is not hostile to Christianity.

However, it's clear that the series isn't written by a Catholic (Christopher Priest, who wrote the 1994 series, is a Baptist), and even though I too am a Baptist with no firsthand experience of Catholicism, I can see that the portrayal is much less authentic than it could/should have been.

Which is a pity. Stories in which Ray explores his faith in greater depth would have been interesting. It would be enlightening for him to learn more about the mercy and forgiveness aspects of Christianity/Catholicism as an antidote to the distorted version full of guilt that he grew up with. And what would it be like for him to, say, go to mass in a church for the first time? Or go to confession (and find it a great relief)? How would his status as a being of light interact with the concept of "the Light of the world"? Etc. etc.

Ray's being a Catholic is an underexplored aspect of his character, and it's unfortunate that it never got the further development that it deserved.

[linkedin-corp]

14 for bata 12 for ulo

love how i saw right when this popped in my inbox. grabs you . paragraph time boy

14. this i think depends on what age you meet her at. when she was young, she spent most of her time with 1 of two people. running along with ilaw and exploring the realms, or with tofe and watching them like an apprentice would (but you know that already, kaf)

but when she starts her clinic, she spends most of her days there. often only occasionally going home if shes called for or if an event is happening. cant miss work too much, being the only medic around for a while yet.

post her first eden trip however .. shes usually at home with tofe and ilaw. when shes home, shes either helping with vega, going through vault memories and books, or helping ilaw with dinner. i can easily imagine estre takes her around alot though, after she retires. estre wants all the time she can get, now that bata isnt busy day in and day out.

12. ulo never really had many personal run ins with dark creatures during their time in wasteland before the shattering, suprisingly. they were quite sheltered and considered an important asset to the army because they held alot of important information that nobody else really wanted to deal with at the time.

however, the few times they did encounter some were not pretty. despite being a smartass, they knew very little about dark creatures around this time as research was moving slow and communications between realms were wired thin due to the wars. theyd occasionally find themselves being tripped by crabs or hiding away from a distant dragon if their guards werent catching up to them quickly enough. not a very smart individual, when it comes to safety of the self. ironic.

[honorhearted]

"Oh, assuredly," Benjamin agreed, grinning. "The Cowper girl is apparently not-so-distant cousins with Medusa...but you didn't hear that from me." Drawing a finger over his lips, he gave an overdramatic raise of his brows before lowering his arm again, his hand once more finding hers as her palm settled within the crook of his elbow.

Stop apologizing?

"Oh...I'm sorry. For being sorry," Benjamin amended, flashing a sheepish smile. "For what it's worth, I can't imagine you ever being a terrible friend. You are loyal and kind, which puts you bounds and leaps above all the rest."

He wasn't sure about the history there -- naturally, dwelling beneath the Bridgerton's roof for hours a day made him privy to certain secrets that were mostly whispered about within the ton, and the sudden split between Penelope and Eloise was one of said topics. He would never pry -- it wasn't his place -- and yet, admittedly, the cleaving of their friendship did shock him since they'd seemed so perfectly suited.

Penelope moved in closer still, much like a boat mooring along the docks, and whether or not it was intentional, Benjamin found himself drawing nearer as well, mindful of her every fluttery breath and the sunbeams warming her pinkening cheeks. He appraised her with a soft smile. She really was quite pretty -- he didn't understand the cruel words constantly hurled in her trajectory, nor why the men of Mayfair wouldn't wish to lay claim to her hand.

"Pen," Benjamin echoed, his voice perhaps far too soft for such a mundane observation. Penelope's sudden flustered plea knocked him out of his stupor, and laughing, he caught hold of her tugging hand, gently squeezing it as he reassured, "I was a sibling once too, if you'll recall. I know all too well the tortures that can be had, should they choose to enact vengeance." He raised his free hand as if swearing an oath. "You have my solemn vow to remain quiet from here until the rest of my God-given days."

With more proper instruction given, Benjamin hummed and nodded his assent. "Not Penny -- got it," he affirmed. "I don't think that would suit you anyway...you have a strength that 'Penny' lacks. I hate to be part of the crowd, but your friends seem to have it right with Pen."

Looking back towards the neighboring street, he brightened and extended his arm. "There!" he exclaimed. "We've finally made it. You're free to borrow as many books under my name as you'd like, because they're used to my constant check-ins and check-outs -- when I say I'll return something, they know I'm good for it."

A certain giddiness rushed over him then, warm and vibrant as he led Penelope across the street. "This is owned by Weathersby," he cautioned, "but I know for a fact he won't be in today. The man is rarely here, in fact -- which is perhaps why I enjoy it so much."

“If that's the case, I’ll be sure to address you as ‘Mister’ every now and again, just to be maintain the peace. Though it is an awful shame. ‘O Magnificent One’ would suit you well.” Scrunching her nose, Pen nods in satisfaction. “Ben, then.”

Ben and Pen. She didn’t hate the sound of it. It sounded like a pair of names she’d find carved into a tree in a corner of Hyde Park as a secret declaration of affections. She imagined what his name would look like in ink, scribbled across the pages of her diary as she recorded the day's events.

“Despite my prior claims, I cannot deny there are worse ladies to be seduced by.” One Cressida Cowper came to mind and Pen’s jaw clenched. The sheer thought of Cressida trying to seduce someone like Benjamin made her chest ache in a way that she couldn’t explain. Jealousy? No, it couldn’t be jealousy. It hardly made sense for her to be jealous over someone she’d only just met, but how could she be any other way when the entire ton knew how vile Cressida could be when provoked? Surely, Pen would feel empathy for any gentleman that had the misfortune of becoming a target of the Cowper girl.

“Ben, if we are to be friends, you must stop apologizing.” She shook her head, knitting her brows as she spoke. “I’d be an awful friend if I made you feel as though you could not speak freely in my presence." Letting out a sigh, she continued. "And, truth be told, I believe I’ve already been an awful friend enough for one lifetime. I’m eager to reform myself.”

He offers a bow in return and it feels like a thousand thunderbolts skitter through her body. For a moment, she wonders if he’ll kiss her hand. An innocent gesture-- a respectful one at that-- but one that she wasn’t sure she’d be able to handle with complete composure. She’d had men old enough to be her grandsire lay their lips upon her hand and never felt anything apart from revulsion. The mental image of Ben’s lips anywhere near her, however, was enough to make her dizzy.

So dizzy, in fact, that a part of her feared she might be experiencing a blight of apoplexy. Her mother had warned her that it ran in the family. Her dear old Aunt Petunia had suffered more than one episode before she finally cocked her toes up. So, it would make sense. A simple case of apoplexy would thoroughly explain the irregular beating of her heart. And, surely, the strange, obsessive thoughts that had begun to plague her, as well as the spreading fever across her skin.

As she met his eyes, Pen suddenly felt lighter. As though her outer shell had finally given way to the pressure of expectations. The pleasantries had been endured and, indeed the worst parts of any meeting, had concluded. Moments before they were strangers, but now they were friends. Penelope couldn’t think of the last friend she’d had that hadn’t been a member of the Bridgerton family. Or the last person she'd befriended that hadn't done so out of pity.

“It seems you’re in luck, then. I happen to be rather adept at being both tragic and insipid. True, I couldn’t think of a more tragic girl in all of Mayfair.” She smirks, moving her arm to gesture to the space around them. Nervously, she gently chews the inside of her cheek. With each step, she inches closer to him, allowing her arm to settle into his.

If Portia could see the two of them promenading so gaily, she’d fly into a heated lecture about how her actions affected the entire Featherington name.

If Eloise saw the way her cheeks flushed each time Benjamin spared her a passing glance, she’d have no problem making playful jests about her obvious obsession with loving any man that paid her even the slightest bit of attention.

And if Colin saw them… Pen was sure he wouldn’t care. Why should he? They were friends, after all. Just friends.

With only the two of them to bear witness their meeting, Pen moved with a strange sense of bravery. As reckless as it might’ve seemed last night, she’s glad that she suggested an unchaperoned outing. It had been risky, and arguably still was, but she'd said it herself: opening one's heart to another was a risk.

“Me?” She blinked, suddenly unsure of her own name. “I suppose most people just call me Pen. My mother calls me Penelope. And my sisters… Well, my sisters have a tendency to call me things I wouldn’t dare to repeat in the light of day." A sudden wave of paranoia rises in her chest and she gently grabs for his arm. "Please do not tell them I told you that."

She can almost imagine the expressions her sisters would make should they ever find out what Pen had said. The twitching vein in Prudence's temple would no doubt pop out, and her jaw would clench so tight that Pen would be worried she'd shatter her teeth. Philippa would be more likely to take it to heart, mortified that her baby sister was willing to risk their reputation for a moment of cathartic release. Both would find ways to apologize and berate her in one fell swoop.

"You, however," She relaxed, quickly returning her hand to her side. "You're free to call me whichever name you find suitable. Though, I must admit, I’m not terribly fond of Penny.”

[iwadori]

Haikyu boys when they make you insecure PT 1 (Kenma,Kuroo)

Part 1 Part 2  Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6.

Word Count:3k 

genre: angst, fluff

masterlist

Kenma:

You and Kenma have been in a long distance relationship for a while.

Both of you stream, Kenma doing it seriously for his job and you just playing it for fun,

Sometimes you stream together of course but because of your difference in audiences and games you don’t do it all the time

“Bye guys! Hope you enjoyed todays stream” You wave off to the camera and shut off your PC taking a few sips of water.

Kenma: Hey.. nice stream today Y/N are you going to watch mine?

Y/N: Of course I will 

Kenma: Ok talk to you later

Y/N: okayy <3

Kenma is what inspired you to stream, he also taught you all the ins and outs of streaming making sure you were set and ready. Your gaming style was very relaxed and friendly as you obviously weren’t streaming as a career just for fun and to make friends with your online viewers. The games you played were usually: minecraft, COD, Sims 4, Roblox, Animal crossing and *Insert your favourite game here* the way I literally named all the games I play 

You wait for Kenmas stream to start, kind of excited as you’ve always loved seeing your boyfriend in his ‘element’ when it comes to playing to games. As your boyfriends stream starts you see he’s already chosen what game he is playing today which is to your surprise Call of duty, since that was the game you were playing earlier.

As he gets into the stream you are entertained, as always since Kenma was being his usual self laughing at his own deadpan jokes and interacting with his viewers. He is currently waiting for his capture the flag game to start so as he waits he decides to read some comments in the chat.

You’re used to the usual ‘Kenma where is Y/N I miss your usual streams together’ or ‘kenma please RAIL me’ which always makes you laugh. You were also used to the common hate comments Kenma and You both got on your streams but you were definitely not ready for this..

@ Ihatewomanandiamadick : Hey Kenma did you see your girls stream today she is so dog shit at COD lmaoooo jhdfkjdrhdrr

“Well hello ihatewomenandiamadick” started Kenma “but yes I did see Y/N stream and obviously she is not the best at games and I would definitely NOT ask her to team with me for any serious gaming competitions ... but she’s fun to watch I guess” as he finished speaking about you his game loaded up so he focused his attention on that the words he just spoke going to the back of his mind as they end up at the forefront of yours.

You obviously knew you were no match for Kenma’s gaming expertise but you didn’t expect him to publicly agree with a hate comment let alone add more of his imput on you. Did he really think that about you? ‘She’s fun to watch I guess’ did he not even enjoy your streams that much?

You wanted to distract yourself, and you definitely couldn’t do that watching him so you close off of his stream and get in your bed deciding to watch your favourite show. 

Waking up at 6pm after your sad nap, you see that Kenma has left some messages to you,

Kenma: hey did you watch my stream?

Kenma: do you want to facetime later and play some minecraft..?

Kenma: y/n r u ok??

Y/N: oh hey cnt play minecraft w you rn not really in the mood..

Kenma: oh ok..

Time passed since then a month to be exact and you basically dropped off of the face of the earth, you weren’t in the mood to do anything let alone game and stream, which was a constant reminder of your boyfriend (something you didn’t want at the time.) 

You felt embarrassed over all the things he said about you and all the things you now think he thinks about you and the way you play. Maybe he thinks even worse things about you, beyond just how you game? What if he doesn’t even genuinely like you...or he has someone else...it does make sense, you do both live miles and miles away from eachother AND he’s a big streamer you see the amount of girls in his comments.

You shake your head to erase your protruding thoughts coming in your mind, but it doesn’t really help. You and Kenma haven’t spoken much over this month he tried to constantly reach out to you at first but you assume he got bored over your constant, repetitive dry texts. So you were almost content with you and Kenma not even being in a relationship anymore.

However on Kenma’s side, he was beyond worried about you. Since you haven’t been streaming or barely responded to his texts he thought something happened to you, but he didn’t want to be seen as ‘overstepping boundaries’ if there was nothing wrong at all with you and you simply were just ‘not in the mood.’ 

So here he is, in Kuroo’s apartment trying to get him to help him out on finding out what is wrong with you.

“So kenma can you remember what happened the day when Y/N went ‘ghost’“ asked Kuroo in a mock detective voice

“Y/N didn’t go ‘ghost’ Kuro, and take this seriously” said Kenma “I’m worried bout her”

“Okay fine, but for real what’s the last thing you remember before she started acting all weird.” 

“Umm I think it was around a month ago I did my saturday stream and I think she was on it but she didn’t leave her usual nice comments throughout”

“Ohh that was the stream when you sai-” Kuroo said before pausing his words as the memory of what Kenma said about you on his stream came in his mind, as even Kuroo thought it was a tad bit harsh for Kenma to say all those things “I think I know why Y/N has been so distant kiddo”

“What why?” Asked Kenma

Kuroo pulls out his phone and brings up the clip off what Kenma said and Kenma’s face cringes ‘did he really say all those things about you’ he thinks. 

“Shit.. I didn’t know I said all of that” he said quietly “how do I make it up to her?”

“There’s only one thing you can really do Kenma” said kuroo

You are woken up out of your sleep by a knock on the door. Getting out your bed like a zombie, you trudge to your front door only surprised by what you see. There in his 5′6 glory stood your ‘boyfriend’ Kenma with a controller and a kitten teddy in his hand. You were very tempted to shut the door in his face and get back to your dreamless sleep but you waited on him to speak.

“Hi Y/N” he said quietly “wanna play some minecraft...?”

“Why so you can ridicule me on how shit I am?” You ask bitterly ready to shut the door on him

“No! No not all” he said stopping you from shutting the door entering your place “Y/N i’m really sorry on what I said, I wasn’t thinking AT ALL... I love watching your streams and I think you’re great at playing games...I was just being a dick,”

You take a deep breath before tears pool in your eyes “what you said really hurt me kenma..” you say “ I know people say shitty things on the internet all the time... it’s the internet. But I wasn’t expecting you to agree with the hater and say even more shitty things on top of that.. I don’t think I want to even stream anymore”

Upon hearing that, Kenma’s mouth parts open with shock ‘you dont want to stream anymore’ were his comments that bad? Now he feel even worse as he should and is now more determined to make things right. 

He impulsively drags your arm into your game room, catching your surprise ‘what is he up too?’ you think. He stops for a second seeing your usual pristine gaming set up, collected up with dust. 

“What are you do-” you start 

“Just wait!” He says, as he rushes away turning on all your stuff and logging onto his twitch account as he sees the views go up he starts to speak

 “Hi guys, its me kodzuken and today I’m here on stream with my beautiful girlfriend and today I want to say..” he turns to you “Y/N im so sorry for the horrible things I said to you that day... I was just being a dick and I’m sorry I really am.”

You look at the chat and you see some confusion and some people recalling his words from last month. “It’s fine Kenma, I forgive you” you say giving him a hug”

“Okay Y/N, so what do you say... wanna beat my ass at bed wars?” He says with a smirk 

“When have I ever loss?” you return his smirk

Of course you did beat his ass as bed wars for rounds on rounds never losing proving yourself to actually be a good gamer girl. You enjoyed your time with Kenma, forgetting what he said before about you and moving on. 

Eventually, you guys moved in together and streamed together all the time and yes you still do play for fun but you’ve gotten way better at COD (some may say better then Kenma) but who is better didn’t matter to any of you, as long as you got to play together that’s all you both cared about.

Kuroo:

Kuroo and you have been together since you were in your first year of high school 

You met as friends first when you got him to tutor you in chemistry ( a subject you still aren’t that good at.)

Now you have your upcoming entrance exams for university in a month so your school has you doing mock exams in preparation for them.

20%

You look down at your chemistry paper that your teacher just handed you. 20%. You’re surprised, very surprised since out of all your subjects (that you go 90+% on) you studied on the chemistry test the hardest ensuring Testurou, that you didn’t need his help at all. But I guess it turns out, you did.

This failing mock grade put a blunder on your day, you didn’t interact with anyone and didn’t want to see your boyfriend so you skipped your usual routine of meeting him on the rooftop and went to the library instead ‘might aswell start early on your studying’ you thought.

As you were going over your chemistry topics, you hear an ‘ahem’ next to you and you turn your head only to find your boyfriend and his friends next to you. Kuroo with his usual goofy smile on his face. 

“Hey kitten where were you at lunch?” he asked 

“Needed to go to the library, Chemistry is kicking my ass” you mumbled 

“Oya” he said as he noticed your chemistry test laying under your textbook “20%, well damn Y/N I knew you were stupid, but I didn’t know you were that stupid” he laughed doing his stupid usual hyena-like laugh.

Ouch well that hurt. You slightly flinched at his words, “Really your name, you didn’t know the molecular formula for ethanol, that’s first year work” he said continuing to laugh “I’m pretty sure that’s one of the first things I tutored you on when we first met” 

His overbearing laughter was not good for you, you were already having a bad day and yes you do know your not that good at chemistry but you didn’t need your chemistry-enthusiast boyfriend to make fun of you for failing. Kenma and Yaku stood there awkwardly obviously aware of how bad Kuroo is making you feel but they didn’t really know how to stop his friend in the moment.Whilst he’s still dying of laughter you decide to pack up your stuff and leave the library.

You managed to get your Chemistry tutor to let you retake your mock paper in a week so that means, extra hard studying with no distractions you definitely can’t fail again. Since studying on your own was definitely not a good option, and you couldn’t go to Kuroo (especially after he ridiculed you) you decided to ask the second smartest person you know to tutor you.

Y/N: Hey Yaku! Can I ask you a favour?

Yaku: Hi Y/N what do you need??

Y/N: I have my chemistry retake next week, and as you know from your loud-loud friend I failed my recent test so can you tutor me?? 

Y/N: Pleaseeee

Yaku: Ok Y/N why can’t you ask Kuroo you know that he’d be more than happy to help

Y/N: Yakuu pleasee just help me out 

So there you was, nearly a week done with your study sessions with Yaku and you’re feeling way more confident than before. 

“Y/N what is the functional group of a Carboxylic Acid” Yaku asked

“umm... COO?” 

“Great! that’s correct Y/N” he praises i dont actually know if it’s correct or not

You then hear a knock at Yaku’s front door and hear his mum let the person in, Kuroo then enters Yaku’s bedroom with shock plastered on his face surprised to see you here.

“Y/N...hey?” he says confused “what are you doing here?”

“Oh Mori-chan is just helping me with chemistry for my retake tommorow” you say nochalantly internally smiling at the twinge in Kuroo’s face at the purposeful use of Yaku’s first name.

“So why didn’t you ask me to help you know I’m a chemistry whiz” he asks

“Maybe I’m too stupid to be taught under your tutelage” you mumble “since I seem to forget whatever you teach me, even when it’s 3 years ago... but ok”

“Y/N I-” he starts 

“Oh save it Kuroo, I have studying to do” you say cutting him off

“But I-” he tries

“So Mori-chan COOH is the function group of ethyl ethonate right?” you ask ignoring your boyfriend who is now at a lost for words

“ummm yeah it is” says yaku who is clearly feeling heavily awkward at the tension in his bedroom.

Kuroo leaves and you and yaku finish off the studying for the night, you did feel a little bad for being a bit mean to Kuroo but it’s karma for him being a dick to you. 

You wake up the next day ready for your exam which was first thing in the morning, before you hand in your phone you see a message from Kuroo,

Kuroo: I know you’re still mad at me, but I think you’re going to do so well on this test. You’re not stupid at all, you’re really smart and I love you < 3 

Kuroo: Good luck Y/N

You don’t respond to the message but smile at the sincerity of it and thankful for the boost of confidence it gave you before you start your exam.

Finishing the exam with a smile, you were confident you did well as everything you and Yaku went over was on the paper and you’re almost certain you atleast got more than 75%. You have to wait an hour before your teacher can give you your results, so in the meantime you might aswell reconcile with Kuroo.

When you exit the classroom, standing there was Kuroo who seemed to have been waiting for you for the whole duration of the exam.

“So how was it?” Kuroo asked, apprenhensive as he assumed you would just ignore him like you did at Yaku’s house.

“It was fine, I think it went alright..” you say

“Kuroo”

“Y/N”

You say simultaneously, he pauses for a second to let you speak “I’m sorry I was being so stand offish when we were at Yaku’s I just wanted you to see I could do it on my own, and when you called me stupid I really took that to heart since you and I both know that Chemistry wasn’t ever my best subject” 

“I’m sorry too, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad, and since it was only a practice test I didn’t think you’d take it to heart but I am sorry I know you aren’t stupid.”

Before you got to say anything else, your Chemistry teacher exited the room with your chemistry paper in hand. Kuroo grabbed your hand anticipating your nerves and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Miss L/N” said your teacher “Well done on your chemistry test” he turned your test around to sure a perfect 100%. Both you and Kuroo gasped, you were elated to say the least you wanted to jump up and down in excitement but a PERFECT 100%.

“I’d also like to add that you have now got the top chemistry score in the school beating the previous title holder Kuroo Testurou” said your teacher, this made Kuroo open his mouth even wider in surprise nearly making you giggle at his response. 

Your teacher took his leave, leaving you and Kuroo in the hallway “ I guess i’m the chemistry whizz now “ you say wiggling your eyebrows just as Kuroo did to you before at Yaku’s this made him chuckle as he came to put his arm around you.

“Y/N don’t get ahead of yourself now, you may have won this battle but I will win the war” he said smiling

In the final exam, you continue your winning streak also getting a near 100% and still beating Kuroo which didn’t matter to either of you, now you’re just like him cracking chemistry puns and jokes all the time which none of your friends appreciated but atleast Kuroo found them SODIUM funny.

AN: Please kill me for the last line of Kuroos, I didn’t really like Kuroo’s since it was a bit self indulgent with my hate for chemistry but what do you guys think?

[littleavengerfics]

Can you maybe write a Kate x yelena x reader where reader is part of the track suit mafia, when Kate and yelena raid a mafia safe house instead of finding reader armed and dangerous they find him watching Star Wars in a onesie and diaper. So instead of arresting him they decide to take him home pls and when he’s in the bath they find bruises all over his body how would they react and how would the help? Thx

Looks are not always deceiving

(Kate x yelena x male y/n)

Warnings: age regression, male y/n, injuries, diapers

Kate pulled out her keys and unlocked the door to her apartment. "Ah Kate Bishop, I was wondering when I would see you again." The blonde smiled, holding a pan of Mac and cheese.

"You are here again." Kate faked a smile. "Yeah I came to tell you the good news." Yelena grinned squirting hot sauce into the pan. "What good news?" Kate asked feeling slightly intrigued.

"I found that y/n guy he's not too far from here, he's got a little safe house, I'm going there tonight." Kate looked completely taken aback. "You found Y/N?"

"Duh, you know I don't understand how you and Barton took so long to track him down. He's really not good at hiding."

After a few minutes of arguing over whether Kate was allowed to come the two finally decided to go look for Y/n together. "Okay, what exactly is the plan here?" Kate whispered hiding behind the blonde. "Don't die." Yelena replied climbing in through the window. "See he even left the window open, it's like he wants to be found." Yelena scoffed.

Once the pair were inside they heard the distant noise of the tv in the next room. "Hey." Kate pulled Yelena back. "What if it's a trap?" Yelena rolled her eyes and carried on walking.

"Alright we can do this the easy way if you want or the hard way is fine with me too." Yelena stepped into the room and paused. "Bishop" Yelena called after the brunette who walked in shortly after.

The two were met with a small figure on the couch, "Y/N L/N" yelena raised her gun, walking in front of Y/N to get a better view. Y/n had by now notice the two and looked over with a fearful expression.

"Yelena something's not right." Kate muttered a strange feeling forming in her stomach. A gut feeling.

Yelena ignored the blonde and took a step further. "Do you want to say any last words?" Y/n looked up at the blonde his lip quivering slightly.

"No owie." Y/N whimpered, something in the duo snapped and their faces completely softened.

"I am going to regret this." Yelena mumbled putting away her gun. "Y/N do you want to come with us?" She continued, sitting next to the boy.

Y/N pointed to the TV where one of his favourite movies played. "You can watch star wars at my house." Kate offered giving Yelena a nod which the blonde returned, showing they were both thinking the same, they had to help him.

"We can't leave you here it isn't safe but we can help you." Kate offered the boy her hand which he hesitantly took.

"Let's get you home, where are your bags?" Y/n pointed to the corner of the room where two bags were piled on top of each other. "I will get them, you take him." Yelena ordered already grabbing one.

"Hey buddy, are you hungry? We can get you some food on the way back." The bot gave a small nod, looking at the archer with a little grin that filled her with warmth. "Alright, do you want anything else before you leave? Have you got everything?" Y/n paused to think for a second before his face filled with panic.

"No fowget teddy!" Y/n shouted looking over at the couch. "We can't forget your teddy can we? Good job you remembered him buddy." Y/n grabbed the stuffie and pulled it close to his chest. "M weady nows."

*****

"Come on in, now can you go in the bathroom and take the onesie off and put it in the laundry pile?" Kate pointed the boy in the direction of the bathroom before leaving to put on a star wars movie.

Kate heard a loud crash from inside the bathroom and rushed to the door. "Y/N? Are you okay? Can I come in?" The door opened slightly wider so Kate pushed it and stepped inside. "No can do its." The boy on the floor huffed pulling at his pyjamas.

"It's alright. Do you want some help?" Y/N gave a small nod so kate knelt down next to the boy and helped him out of the onesie. "You wear a diaper?" Yelena asked, standing behind the pair, Y/N looked up at the russian with tears in his eyes.

"No no its okay, do you have some more? You look like you need a new one." Y/N gave a small nod and pointed past the door to the living room where his bags were. Yelena nodded and left to go search the bags.

It was only once the bath was filled and Y/N was about to get in that Kate took notice of just how many bruises and cuts littered his skin. A slight rage built up in her, yet that was soon washed by the sadness of how much pain the boy had been through. "How could anyone do this to someone so cute and innocent." She said, not realising it wasn't in her mind.

"Do what?" Yelena asked walking in with diapers, baby powder and more pyjamas. "He's hurt." Kate expected y/n to react but he was too busy playing with the bubbles. "Do you know who did it?" Yelena asked, her brows knitted together. "No."

"We need to find out." Yelena said firmly. "Maybe, but another time, right now we need to look after this little guy."

"Hey bud it's time to get out now." Yelena smiled, watching the little yawn and rub his eye. "We need to fix your cuts."

"Owies." Y/n frowned pointed to the mark on his arm. "Is it owies? That's not good." Kate added helping him out the bathtub. "I think I have some cool bandaids. Do you want some?" The boy gave an enthusiastic nod. "Okay, let me put your new diaper on first." Yelena smiled, drying the little with a towel then putting on a clean diaper.

Once the boy was dressed Kate lead him over to the couch. "I don't have another bed, are you okay on here if I get you some blankets?" The little nodded to the brunette as Yelena placed bandaids up his arm.

Kate arranged all the blankets and pillows in the most comfortable way possible and pressed play on the movie. A few minutes into the movie Y/n's eyes started getting heavier. Kate turned off the movie and stood up with the blonde. "You need to go to sleep now, get comfortable."

The boy wriggled around and sprawled out until he was comfy enough to fall asleep. "Goodnight Y/N." Kate smiled, placing his stuffie in the little's arms. "Goodnight dude." Yelena smiled throwing the blanket over him.

"Night Katie, night lena." The boy smiled before falling asleep.

"We're keeping him right?" The blonde asked once y/n had fallen asleep. "yes." The brunette replied. "Yes we are."

[tteokdoroki]

saccahrine sundays | k.bakugou

♡ pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader.

♡ word count: 5.3K

♡ rating: mature, 18+, mdni.

♡ genre: pro hero!au, married!au, fluff + smut.

♡ summary: katsuki can never find enough time to get some sleep. between being a full time pro hero, a father and a husband— hours of rest are hard to come by. unless it’s one of those sweet, sweet saccharine sundays.

♡ warning(s): please read ! heavy smut, pwp ( characters aged up to late twenties ), somnophilia, unprotected sex ( wrap it before you tap it, kids ), fingering ( female recieving ), tummy bulges, mating press, pregnancy!kink, daddy!kink, breeding!kink, light!exhibitionism, cumplay + needy bakugou has a praise!kink... <3

♡ author’s note(s): brrr hey guys! it feels like forever since i last posted a full fic, january was bleh so im happy to get this out !! special thanks to @greenchild for feeding me this idea and thank to all of you for your love, support and 2.8K. i love you all, enjoy <3

♡ masterlist | requests

katsuki bakugou couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten a full nights sleep. between being a pro hero and family life, the full eight to nine hours of pure rest wasn’t easy to come by— now he wasn’t complaining, he was far too grateful for the life he lead to whinge and whine about the finer details. bakugou was right on track to becoming the number two, he had a beautiful wife who loved him and supported him no matter how reckless he might have been and two little brats that he adored more than anything. he was miles ahead of his high school classmates, never letting up or resting so like he said, there was no room to complain.

but even as the faintest wisps of light slip through drawn curtains and a vermillion gaze settled on the old all might digital alarm clock ( reading 9:01 AM ), katsuki bakugou can’t help but feel grateful for the sleep he just had. no interruptions from wailing toddlers or infants who need changing, no late night call ins for patrols— none of that, just an arm around his wife’s waist and the soft sound of her breathing to coax him out of his sleepy state.

bakugou remembers now, a distant yet far from faint memory of where he and his wife spent two days of their honeymoon under slumber’s spell, having ravished each other the very night they arrived in paris for their honeymoon ( all mina’s idea, she had told katsuki it was the perfect destination for newly weds in love— and whilst the several districts his alien friend recommended did appease you, the blonde had promised to take you on a more luxurious getaway when he was hire up in the hero rankings ). of course that very honeymoon lead you to fall pregnant with your first little miracle— taiga bakugou, the very spitting image of her father except or the slight tilt to her nose and the sparkle in her eye that only her mother possessed.

raising her had proven to be both an enjoyable and exhausting experience for katsuki, with a matching explosive personality to rival even her daddy’s— there were many restless nights the pro hero spent butting heads with his daughter while his sweet spouse was away on missions and getting used to the field again. even during the pregnancy, full nights of rest were little to none— the cravings taiga gave you were almost unbearable for the blonde, not to mention the 2AM labour his little girl put you through...and yet he would repeat the last four years of lack of sleep all over again if it meant reliving every single moment with you. raising tatsumo was much better; however.

so as the weight of well deserved slumber lifts from katsuki’s shoulder’s he’s forced to deal with the memories of your sweet cries from the night (or rather, nights) he made you his wife. he stirs under cotton sheets, a familiar hardness pressing against his inner thigh as he recalls the way you tightened around him— “honey baby,” the desperate whisper tastes foreign, bitter across his tastebuds as he licks his lips. katsuki was usually much more composed when it came to sex, he could hold out for hours while you pleaded and begged of him to give you more. but this morning was different, very much so.

skilfully, the ash blonde slips a hand between your sheets, finger tips calloused with years of training and battle, dancing up your bare thighs from where you wear only his shirt and a pair of panties. the fingers trail up to your underwear, pressing them against your cunt as bakugou watches your face for any reaction— you twitch once before falling back into a deep slumber, letting your husband know that he can continue. he peels like orange silk away from your core and down your legs, half resisting the urge to sniff your undergarment like the dirty man he is but he decides that he can longer wait, already turned on by the feeling of your bare pussy against his hand.

the pro knows exactly how to turn you on, dragging is nails down your thighs just an inch from your wetness and his mind fogs with lust at the thought of the sounds you’d make for him if you were awake...not yet, he says to himself. his next move is to fuck your mouth, two of his digits sliding past parted lips from where you snore— gathering the drool that pools on the surface of your tongue. back and forth; move bakugou’s fingers until he’s satisfied with how wet you’ve made them with your spit. returning those very same fingers to your cunt, he parts your folds— already slightly sticky and hot with the nectar he’s used to savouring. if this were any other time, bakugou would be eating you out like a man starved of his last three meals but the rising sun tells him that his moments to fuck you are very few.

so now, he slides those lubed up fingers right into your tight little hole, shuddering under the sheets at how you automatically clamp around him— even while you sleep. katsuki’s vermillion eyes seek out your face in the warm light of the dusk, watching as your expression contorts into that familiar look of pleasure— lips blossoming into a cherry pout, brows furrowed as if you’re focusing on the way your husband makes you feel.

“fuck, honey baby, so good ‘n pliant for me even when yur fuckin’ sleepin’,” katsuki slurs against saliva that slips along his tongue, he’s hungry to fuck you, make you moan and scissors his fingers deep inside your obedient cunt in away that makes your slumbering body jump. pressing a thumb to your neglected clit, bakugou twists his fingers in search for your g-spot, pumping them into you with vigour. “gonna make you cum angel, baby, please cum while you’re like this s’you can take my cock.”

if there’s one thing pro hero dynamite knows, it’s that your body is a slave to him, no matter what state it’s in. your thighs part instinctively; giving your husband room to curl his fingers and press down hard on your pleasure spot— gummy walls sucking him in deeper. he makes you cum while you sleep, juices staining  your supple skin, honeyed from the warm light outside.

“atta girl, cummin’ for your husband like that even when you’re sleeping— so fuckin’ naughty...” katsuki grunts, locks of sun kissed hair beginning to plaster itself against his forehead. his body shakes with the desire to be inside of you, his internal temperature rising with every second that he’s not sheathed within your walls. pulling his fingers away from your twitching mound, bakugou slides them, cum soaked and all, into his mouth to taste your very sweetness. “would eatcha out like a starved man, honeybee, but we don’t gotta lot of time left baby...”

with that, bakugou shuffles his sweats down enough for his cock to spring free, tip bright red and leaking against his toned, scarred abdomen. with practised ease, he hooks your right leg over his waist and positions your dripping cunny right over the head of his length. it takes everything katsuki has not to plunge deep inside of you, to abuse your tempting cunt until it’s formed into the shape of his cock but for once he wants to take you slowly, enjoy his time with your limp body at his disposal.

pressing his girth against your slick entrance, your husband sighs, coating himself with the remainders of your delightful release. the mess you made just for him, makes it easier for him to guide his cock between your velveteen folds that take him so well. his free hand comes up to brush over your cheek and even in the depths of your rest you manage to nuzzle into katsuki’s palm and make his coo— what a precious little doll you are, so good for him and always so obedient no matter what state you’re in. fuck, it drives him so insane that he can’t even think straight.

“...suki....”

fucking hell. the way you sigh out for him so mawkishly whilst you dream makes him twitch, not even half the way inside you.  “c’mon honey baby, don’t go moanin’ my name like that when i haven’t even had a c-chance to make you mine yet—“ the blonde shudders, eyes screwing shut as he finally bottoms out inside of you. katsuki let’s out a choked moan, from deep within his chest while you welcome him into your lethally syrupy cunt. “ohh, fuck, that’s the stuff, good girl...”

bakugou’s thrusts start slow yet, forcing your limp body to jolt up the bed and your tits to bounce in tune with the rhythm of his hips— your little hole sucks him in so greedily, so selfishly, clamping down on him as if to prevent him from leaving your body as a whole. pro hero dynamite is shaken to his core, how can his precious baby take him so darlingly while she’s asleep, refusing to let go of him and keep his cock tucked away inside of you.

shit, shit, shit.

he wants to defile you, asleep or not, ruin how pure and angelic your body appears even after years of being together. it’s your fault he’s like this anyway, you deserve to have your pussy destroyed no matter the circumstances— ruby framed eyes threaten to roll back into his skull while bakugou picks up the swirl of his hips between your sticky thighs, you flutter and squeeze around the girth that’s stretched you out so many times before and yet you still remain a tight hole designed for your husband and your husband alone.

lips map their way up the column of your neck, committing every dip and scar and blemish to memory even though katsuki knows where each of them are. the amber colour of the morning sun highlights each of your marks, your husband giving you as many lovebites to match each one. “nn, suki...more..” you whimper, so quiet he almost misses it underneath the sound of wet skin slapping against wet skin. could you feel how he deflowered you in your sleep? ruining such a good girl while you resting? he wants so bad to corrupt you from the inside.

static stretches across katsuki’s brain, crackling as his neurones fire and dopamine fizzes in his veins. cum. cum. breed her. it’s too soon but the blonde can’t help it, pent up and high on the morning sunrise— addicted to the taste of your skin licked with light perspiration. it’s been ages since he’s had you like this, can you blame him for not hanging on so long? bakugou lifts your thigh higher on his waist, using it as leverage to plough into the deepest parts of you, his precious wife, desperate to cream inside you before wake up.

“mm, know you’re close lovebug, won’t you cum for me suki?”

katsuki’s gaze hones in on you, vision blurred and hazy with lust from his impending orgasm. your own eyes are heavy with sleep but the soft smile on your face is filled with a familiar adoration and saccharine love that the blonde can never get tired of. he knows that you know your voice alone is another to send him speeding off of the cliff of release— your hole squeezing around him, beautiful hips that once brought his children into the world gracefully moving up and down to coax his girthy cock to its final release.

“honey baby,” katsuki whines like a broken man when you cup his face, hot puffs of air warming up the space between you.  his hips don’t let up though, driven by the way you move against him beneath the sheets, he’s so close he can almost taste it. “c-couldn’t wait for you to wake up, needed you so fuckin’ bad...”

your mouth hangs open in a quiet groan, getting lost in the claps of sweaty bodies against one another and katsuki latches onto your lower lips to swallow your noise— breathing it in and letting it spread through his body like oxygen. “oh, lovebug, y-you don’t...” you pause, eyes rolling to the back of your head as the angry tip of your husband’s cock grazes against your gummy spot, sending your walls into a flurry of flutters that make katsuki twitch. “ ...you don’t ever have to wait with me, d-don’t hold back, kay?”

you’re a breathless mess, a sight to behold and he can’t take not having you filled with his seed any longer. the lazy push and pull of your bodies smacking wetly against each other become erratic thrusts, heat pooling in the abdomen of the pro hero boiling him alive in feelings of desire for you and you alone.

bakugou quivers from his lips to his toes when he cums, filling your slippery walls with a creamy white and lining your insides with the claim of your man. your man. your husband. “fuck, fucking hell,  h-honey, gimme that pussy...gimmie that fuckin’ pussy,” his groans linger in the crisp early morning air, dancing with the static while he orgasms within you, endless bouts of white stuffing you to the brim. you kiss in an attempt to calm him, squeezing around his thick cock to ride out his high. you taste of orange liquor  and manuka honey, addicting while he sucks lavishly on your tongue and spares you the air you need to breathe. ‘cause at the end of the day call you need is him.

“did you cum, precious one?” ever the gentleman, katsuki has to ask but even you can see in his blood red ruby eyes ( no matter how tired they may seem ) that he’s gearing up for a second round, shallow thrusts pushing his own release  deeper into your fertile womb. there’s about thirty minutes until the kids wake up, but your lover can make you see stars in fifteen.

you shake your head once as bakugou rolls you onto your back— strong arms caging you into the prison if his love. large hands dance tenderly up the back of your thighs and you meet his eyes with such a saccharine smile his heart bursts at the sight of you. “you’re insatiable, lovebug,” the tingling notes of your moan caresses bakugou’s cheek as he manoeuvres your legs to fold you into a mating press, shifting his weight above you. “did you really need me that much, daddy bear?”

“think y’already know the answer to that, honeybee,” katsuki drawls, tripping over his words filled, oh so generously with blazing desire. he still remains sheathed inside you, a darling whine dripping from his cherry lined lips— the ones sore from kissing you— as he gives an experimental thrust into the tight heat of your core. you accept him willingly, opening up for him like a blossoming flower which makes katsuki’s hot breath stutter from the overstimulation. neither of you can look away, sharing the intimate moment of his length sinking into you— katsuki groans as you suck him in inch by inch before leaning over and attaching his lips to yours, licking at the seam of them in order to coax them open. his wife is a tease however; denying him the pleasure of sucking on her tongue...for now at least.

but it’s all worth it, for katsuki wants to burn the erotic sight of you beneath him into his mind forever. your skin shines like it was kissed by the setting moon, eyes hooded and holding a lust that only burns brightly for him while your chest heaves in anticipation of your husband claiming you for the second time that morning. “m-move suki, please—c-can’t...” the tail end of your pleas fall away with the fading night sky.

the man doesn’t need to be told twice.

save for a few shallow thrusts to get going, katsuki soon finds himself pistoning into you at an unruly, god speed pace. the blonde revels in the way one hand of yours twirls strands of his hair between your fingers whilst the other digs crescent moons into his blemished honey skin. helpless huffs and candied cries tickle bakugou’s ears while he presses your body flush against his and pins you down with his hips.

their movements don’t ever waver, cock catching on every ridge your damp pussy has to offer him, each thrust calculated amplify your pleasure that rolls in heatwaves throughout your body. katsuki’s mind grows blank, thick with the mirage you’ve cast over him from the way you push back against him, taking more of his inches into you.

“ngh, lovebug,” you say, high off of euphoria while katsuki’s leaking cock bears down harshly on your g-spot and you smile up at him deliriously— looking like the eighth wonder of the world. you grab the hand your husband uses to keep your thighs up and bring it down to your tummy for him to feel what you feel. “can feel your cock inside me, love, so big...makin’ my tummy bulge like a good daddy bear...”

something snaps within katsuki at the sound of your breathless praise; a feral blaze setting alight deep inside his chest— spreading throughout his body as his cock drives deeper and deeper inside your spongy, wet cunt— just about breaching the gates of your cervix. breed her. fuck her. make her swollen with your cum. bakugou can’t even think straight; intoxicated by the way you move against him, the way you look so full of him and his thick length.

he wants you to look full all of the time. so katsuki does with the only way he knows how. dropping his head to your neck, sharp attack your neck with blossoms of bruises forming under your skin in the name of love— you whine, a gorgeous symphony of his name against his ear while you tangle your fingers in the baby hairs at the nape of his neck. “y’can’t jus...jus say stuff like that to me, honey...” bakugou croons against your skin, screwing his eyes shut while his hips pick up the pace and plunging his length right into your womb. the sounds of your arousal wetly spill into the sex scented air— fuelling katsuki to thrust into you faster. “not if you...n-not if you don’t want me to fuck another one of those shitty brats into you.”

as stuttered as his words are, bakugou means every single one of them. a primal desire activates in the back of his mind, overriding every single of senses. just the thought of lining your womb with his pungent seed, making you pregnant once again and seeing you round and full with katsuki’s child is enough to drive him off of the rails. And the pro hero knows that you feel the same, he can tell by the way your heat clamps down on his cock and strangles him, as if to milk him of every ounce of his cum.

“yes, want you to make me pregnant suki, make me a mommy again, please—!”  you simper out loud, desperate tears springing to your eyes while the bed groans beneath you. visions of you round and swollen with a baby drives him to thrust into you harder, faster so that more and more of his precum spills into you. “know you want it, want it too...your cum, deep inside me—ohmygod suki—yes!”

bakugou slaps a hand over your mouth, watching as your sweet doe eyes brim with tears at the languid roll of his hips against yours. “careful honeybee, don’t want the kids to...fuckin’ hell... h-hear—“ he stutters, eyes rolling, limbs shaking violently. his other hand drops between your conjoined bodies, drawing vicious circles into your swollen clit to draw you closer and closer to the edge. star dust is littered behind your eyes, the bright white signifying the race to your high that only katsuki can give to you. “or do you want to be heard, you want everyone to hear how full you’re gonna become when i get you pregnant again. how you’ll whine and beg me to suck on your tits when you start makin’ that sweet milk for our baby. is that what you fuckin’ want, yn?”

you can’t help the way your pussy flutters around his cock that brutally grazes your g-spot— the dirty words your husband speaks like music to your ears. a symphony with his moans and the sounds of his balls slapping against your bare ass.  “oooh, shit baby, you must do with the way your lil cunny clamps down on me—just like that...”

“oh god, lovebug please...cum...cum! need it daddy bear—can’t take it anymore,” you babble against katsuki’s hand, brain turning to mush at the unbearable pleasure. the knot in your tummy becomes tighter, close to snapping as the white light of pleasure clouds your view.

patterns drawn diligently against your clit speed up; turning to quick figure of eights to tease your orgasm. “‘course you fuckin’ do honey baby, my little breeding bitch. my sweet little wife who can’t wait to be a mommy again. take this cock, you dirty whore. take it and I’ll give you my fuckin’ baby.” bakugou slurs, losing all control as the pace of his hips begins to falter. you can feel his dick twitching inside of you, tip pulsing with the need to paint your insides.

your gazes lock within the frenzy, while your back arches and hips lift to take your husband deeper inside you. dynamite is feral like you’ve never seen before; an animal reduced purely back to instinct. unfocused red eyes become teary like your own with hot pleasure while they lock onto you but you know that behind lust; loved the adoration and love your husband holds for you. thats all you need to reach the edge and tumble into your orgasm,

it takes but a few more thrusts and a pinch to your clit before you’re cumming— release squirting out and splattering against bakugou’s toned abdomen.

the blonde never lets up while you cum undone on his iron hot rod, letting him pump into you with unrelenting feverishness. katsuki is desperate, needing an extra push even with you strangling his cock with your insides. “s-say you’ll make your daddy a daddy baby, say you’ll give me another fucking kid. fuck, fuck yeah...please honey baby—“ bakugou damn near sobs, trembling violently above you as his breath hitches with ever hiccup.

smiling gently, you pull his head to your neck, cradling your husband while his pace slows to circular grinds. “i’ll make you a daddy again, you can cum for me now lovebug...”

“shit, shit, oh god— cummin’...” thats all bakugou needs to hear before bottoming out inside of your abused hole—  screaming against your bitten flesh and forcing his cock into your fertile womb as he sprays with his thick, sticky seed. white coats every ridge and crevice of your pussy while impatient thrusts slow to sensual grinds. you feel the tears of neediness soak the supple skin of your neck, rocking your hips against katsuki to milk his cock for all it’s worth— even if slow waves of his cum seep down your folds and to the sheets below.

“g’morning, katsuki,” you sigh blissfully, fingers combing through your lover’s sweaty mop of sun kissed locks. the pair of you lie still, limbs still intertwined as you catch your breath under the orange hues of the light outside.

your husband shifts his head to look at you, eyelids heavy over blood red eyes with a satisfied look on his face. he’ll never get over having you all to himself first thing in the morning— katsuki bakugou will always consider that a luxury and as he looks to you, a great smile soon takes his features. “yeah...good fucking morning to you too, angel face,” bakugou doesn’t dare pull out of you, intent on keeping his word. “love you yn, you’re always so good to me...”

katsuk’s lips mould into a pout as you continue your earlier ministrations of brushing back sweat slicked hair away from his face before pressing a chase kiss to his lip and making his cock twitch from over sensitivity, inside of you. he was always a sucker for the romantic moments after a passionate round of sex, he was a domestic, love struck son of a bitch what could he say? “suki...lovebug, you know you can pull out if it’s too much,” you remind him, the sound of your voice pulling his attention back to you. as he stares; katsuki maps out every detail of your face, the way your eyes glitter in the mellow light that peeks from between closed curtains or the slight dip across your cheek in the form of a scar from where you’d been injured on the field— he spends time committing it all to memory as if it’s the last time he’ll get to witness such beauty. “you’re staring, bug.”

“nuh uh, not pulling out.” huffing, bakugou leans up for another kiss, which you happily provide him with as he curls up onto your chest like a kitten seeking warmth. “keepin’ you plugged full s’you can get preggers like i fuckin’ promised.”

“you were serious?” you question him first, earning yourself another grouchy huff before your eyes roll and a comfortable silence sweeps across your bedroom, periodically interrupted by the morning birds waking up and chirping. “always a man of your word, huh bug? don’t worry, we’ll make you a daddy bear soon, but i’ve got to clean up before the kids wake up.”

“don’ you fuckin’ move— leave the dumbass kids, they’ll be fine on their own.”

“not with taiga’s quirk coming through, now move, you’re heavy.”

with that, you manage to shove bakugou off of you and he only hisses lightly as his softened cock hits the cold air, already missing your heat. the banter between you both as husband and wife is always light and you always win; he wants to bite back but anything he says will be soft on his sharp tongue. damn you and you being the love of his life. bakugou watches as you fix his shirt over your frame and head to your en-suite bathroom to make yourself more presentable to your kids— mumbling something about how many times katsuki came inside of you.

sure there was a lot of it, but he’d only cum inside you twice and he was trying to give you a baby. again.

the shower turns on and he can hear the sound of water running but it doesn’t cover your sweet voice as you call for him. he could never miss that. “katsuki bakugou, you horny bastard, i love you, my daddy bear!” you sing for him; making the blonde smile.

“i love you more, honey baby,” he chuckles back, tucking himself back into sweats before settling back into the ruined sheets.

bakugou was so luckily to have you and you’re beautiful children— he wouldn’t trade any moment of his life for the world except for maybe more time with you. he swore, he’d spend forever loving you if he could.

“daddy?” sweet thoughts are cut off by the groggy voice of bakugou’s eldest daughter, taiga, who stands in the doorway of his bedroom rubbing her cherry red eyes.

the blonde grins, rising from his place in bed and crossing the room in three short strides. he quickly crouches down in front of his little girl and ruffle her unruly mop of matching blonde hair. “g’morning brat, what’s up?”

taiga clutches her shoto plushy tightly, the one uncle todoroki had gotten her for her first birthday ( the one that bakugou hated because it was his daughter’s favourite— kirishima hated it too because he had always thought he was the favourite uncle ), and pouts down at her father, scowling sleepily. bakugou knows if you could see the two of them now, you’d be saying she was the spitting image of him. “tatsumo woke up n wouldn’t stop whinin’, fink he’s hungry, daddy!” the little girl grumbles, clearly still reeling in the after effects of her sleep that got cut short.

“how about we go get him and make some pancakes then?” katsuki suggests softly, hauling his daughter onto his bare shoulders and being mindful not to drop her stupid fuckin’— i mean her plushy to the ground. “y’gonna help me mix up enough batter for ya ma n’ brother, you got that brat?”

taiga squeals as at the new found height, wrapping a singular chubby arm around bakugou’s head for support, making his heart burst at the tiny hand that grips his chin. fuck, he loved his life. “only if we can add choco chwips, daddy!”

“oi, don’t you push your fuckin’ luck with me brat, ya mommy might let you get away with eatin’ shit like that but not me—“ bakugou makes an attempt to scold his daughter while they make way towards his son’s room, but he already knows he’s going to give into her. he can’t say no to taiga.

“i’ll tell mommy you cursed at me!”

“why you little sh—“

“careful, katsuki, if you keep cursing her out i might have to put you on punishment later,” taiga bursts in to wriggly giggles on bakugou’s shoulders, making it harder to keep her in place as you brush past him to grab tatsumo from the nursery.

“daddy’s gonna get in trouble!”

the teasing tone to your voice lingers in the air while you fetch your son, who seems groggy and pouty when he comes into katsuki’s view— wrapped up in your arms while you wear a cleaner shirt of his. there’s that glint in your eye, similar to the one your children posses when they’re doing something mischievous. and  that alone tells the ash blonde he’ll be getting punished in ways that could lead to another little one rushing through your house.

bakugou can roll with that.

but for now; he reaches up and pinches taiga’s nose— telling her to stop running her mouth and sending you into giggles while you carry your children downstairs for breakfast. katsuki bakugou couldnt remember the last time he’d gotten a full nights sleep, but what he did know is that he’d always remember the very saccharine mornings he’d get to spend with you and your beautiful children after.

bonus:

“taiga, did you put chocolate chips in the batter even though i told you no?”

bakugou had turned his back for but a mere second to grab some milk for tatsumo; who played happily with smooshed bits of banana in his high chair— and suddenly, the batter was littered with the offending, tiny pieces of candy.

“no, it was mommy!”

“yn...”

you quickly throw your hands up in the air as defence, dropping the packet of sinful treats to the counter. “what? i’m having cravings, bakugou!”

“you’re not even pregnant, yn!” the man himself raises his spatula at you accusingly with a scowl, biting down on his tongue to prevent himself from cursing again.

you smile up at your husband, knowing he can’t stay mad at you for long. “but i will be, katsuki, it’s the thought that counts.” your eyes flicker up as you wipe the melted chocolate on your finger tips off with your tongue before moving to settle your daughter down for breakfast. bakugou splutters, cheeks flaming with a reddish rose at the thought of your soon to be baby and all the activity that comes with making one which makes you laugh. “oh and lovebug? your pancakes are burning.”

with a jump, katsuki turns to flick off the flame and save his batch of pancakes while you tend to your kids— leaving him to contemplate over your chocolate chip breakfast, how lucky he was to have you.

“i crave chocolate, can i get a pregnant?” taiga squeals shortly after.

“not a chance in hell, brat.”

♡ taglist:

@ozzy-bozzy @bakugous-mamas @meg-mystic @runningon-5percentsleep @cyans-bliss @husband-to-tomura-shigaraki @paintedr0ses1 @69meggg69 @sapphoscolonoscopy @toshidou @saucey-kneecapzz42020 @candybabey @alrunemara​ @greenchild​

[snowbellewells]

@booksteaandtoomuchtv Oh my goodness!! I cannot stress how excited I was to see this pop up in the “Trailers” section of Discord and know that I would get to see how this thrilling story would end. I never intended to keep you waiting so long for my “read and review” reblog! 😬 Please know that has no bearing whatsoever on my excitement for this final installment, and is more than testament to the exhaustion of the end of another school year. I adored this, truly. 💖 It was a delight to read!!!

You were very clever, and a bit unexpected in how you picked up the narrative with this conclusion. I expected that you would show Killian rushing to Emma’s side as she finally woke and then her slowly mending from Regina and Neal’s attempt on her magic and her life. This was so much more wonderful than I could have predicted though. We got to see all these happy vignettes, moments of love and joy they shared in a whole long stretch of their lives together - as you wrote in conclusion a truly happy ever after!!! 😍😍😍

I don’t even know if I can pick a favorite piece, but I’ll touch on a few. I did love how Killian (with Ruby’s help) healed the meadow from Regina’s destruction and made it a place of lovely memories where he proposed to Emma. I also adored Emma’s thoughts while expecting their little boy, thinking about how Killian had given her someone to turn to, not just having to be there for everyone else in her life, but having a safe harbor in him where she could turn as well: “Now those walls were a distant memory. Now her heart beat in time with his, a ribbon of magic between them confirming the pull she had always felt toward him had always been more than a passing attraction. Killian had once told her they were mates. Mary Margaret had said they shared True Love and that was a powerful, but rather mysterious, magic. Emma thought of it more as two wandering, lost souls finding a home, a sanctuary, in one another.” Simply beautiful!!

And then you have the adorable image of their little girl cuddled between them, snuggled into the crook of Killian’s arms and Emma waking to see them and declare they’re almost too adorable together to be fair. That was just priceless perfection!! I loved the idea of Artie and how doting they both were (and they totally would be!) to their future grandson. This story’s end was almost like the movie The Illusionist, in that there are two or three different scenes that you think are the end - and each one would be good and work in its own way - but then it builds to the true final scene and it’s the sweetest and best one yet! 💖

I can’t leave out this bit! It was so wonderful and romantic, and I could very much envision Killian delivering these words: “Your smile could ignite wars," Killian said as he crossed to her. He kissed her cheek, "inspire masterpieces." He kissed her other cheek, "and revive the blackest of hearts." He met her lips with a sweet kiss, his hand cradling her jaw and his eyes closed as he savoured the kiss as though it were water and he a man lost in the desert. No matter how often they kissed or how chaste the kiss, Killian savoured them all in this way - as though he had been dying and she had given him the air he needed to survive.”

I could keep singing this whole stories praises and flailing at you about the ending for some time, but I am going to wrap it up here. You’ve done brilliantly and I hope you are enjoying the glow of a story well told and the accomplishment of finishing up the tale you set out to tell!! I am very touched that you mentioned my check-ins as encouragement!! I loved what you did and getting to know you better. I’m glad if it was a little bit of help!! 🤗

Witchy Woman (10/10)

0.5 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

LOOK AT THIS STUNNING ARTWORK BY @cocohook38

Summary: When Emma came into her position as Storybrooke Coven Leader, she ended things with the powerful Vampire Overlord, Killian Jones. She’s spent over a decade working alongside him and ignoring the growing tension between them.

During his best mate’s wedding, Killian decides he is done waiting. He is ready to have his mate back in his arms (and bed) again. Emma is not an easy woman to woo, but Killian has never backed down from a challenge.

When Emma’s jilted ex-boyfriend returns to town and Emma goes missing, Killian will stop at nothing to get her back and ensure that nothing can ever separate them again.

Rating: E

CW: Mention of domestic abuse, blood and blood drinking (vampires), threatening situations, minor violence, death, mention of parental death

Entry for Captain Swan Supernatural Summer 2023 (@cssns)

Tag: @anmylica, @deckerstarblanche, @elfiola, @goforlaunchcee, @jrob64, @kmomof4, @pirateswhore, @stahlop, @teamhook, @tiganasummertree, @undercaffinatednightmare, @xarandomdreamx, @zaharadessert (let me know if you want to be added or dropped)

Author Note:

I confess that I struggled with this chapter far, far more than I could have predicted. Some of it was stress-induced writer's block that has started to clear as we approach the final stages of this move. Some of it was the fear of ending this in a way that leaves you disappointed.

I have pages and pages of struck material as I debated what to do with this chapter. With the conflict resolved and most of the questions of who, how, and what answered, I wrestled with what ending would make this story feel complete.

After months of writing, rewriting, stalling, scowling, and saying "I need to write this one chapter for my supernatural summer fic this weekend", I humbly set this before you and hope that it was worth the wait.

I cannot thank the CSMM Discord server enough for the encouragement and unfailing support in getting any writing done, but especially for the love and check-ins surrounding this fic. Thank you so, so much.

Finally, extra love to Marta and Krystal for having a sixth sense for when I was writing again. Your notes, check-ins, cheering, listening to my life drama, prayers, and such have meant more to me than you could ever know.

Enjoy! ---- ---- ---- ----

Sometime later...

Killian had never known nerves as he did now. He could feel his hold on his magic slipping as his emotions threatened to get the better of him as though he were a child again - rather than a mature vampire with centuries of experience successfully regulating his emotions and controlling his magic. Not knowing what to do with this abundance of jittery energy, Killian paced around the beautiful, blooming red Middlemist flowers. 

When he pictured this scene in his mind, he thought the flowers would set a romantic scene. They were a favourite of Emma’s and with Ruby’s affinity for earth magic, they’d made a beautiful field of flowers where Regina’s corrupted magic had once left nothing but rot. Now, he wondered if the red was more reminiscent of blood than passion. Maybe the location of that horrible event in their past should not have been revisited for this particular moment. 

He could hear her careful footsteps entering the forest, her steady heartbeat calling to him and calming him all at once. He reached into his pocket - just making sure - and waited for her to arrive at the clearing. 

“Killian,” she called before he could see her, a smile clear in her voice. “You do know…” But whatever she intended to say next failed her as she stepped into sight. "Oh," Emma breathed out. Her eyes were wide as she scanned the flowers now overflowing the grove. 

“I, erm,” Killian’s voice cracked. “You came into my life and filled the bleakest parts of it, of me, with hope, so I wanted to do the same for you.”

“This is beautiful. Thank you.” 

Killian knelt before her and held the intricate ring between them, the sapphire and diamonds glittering in the sunlight. He smiled up at her, the shimmer of tears present in her eyes, and - instantly - all the words he rehearsed for weeks escaped him. “Please, will you share the rest of your life with me?”

Sometime a bit later...

At some point, when Emma was not paying attention, Killian had become essential. It wasn't that she needed him to survive, that fear that had kept her from giving herself over to the pull of their connection when they were younger. Rather, with him, her life was simply better. 

Looking back on it, she realised this was a truth that she had always known - when they spent all those years apart, they still worked together and were friendly. Even with solid walls protecting her heart, she could not deny they made a good team. Now those walls were a distant memory. Now her heart beat in time with his, a ribbon of magic between them confirming the pull she had always felt toward him had always been more than a passing attraction. Killian had once told her they were mates. Mary Margaret had said they shared True Love and that was a powerful, but rather mysterious, magic. Emma thought of it more as two wandering, lost souls finding a home, a sanctuary, in one another. 

Coming home to Killian every night had been a bit of an adjustment. Emma spent her life solving problems for other people, but she often buried her thoughts or issues away. Killian gave her space to exist without and room to…feel. At first, she would apologise for spilling out all her problems or being so needy. He’d pull her into him, ask her about her troubles and validate her feelings until her guilt faded away and just peace remained. Overtime, she realised that this was something she should have always had - space and time to be more than someone else’s problem solver. 

A sharp jab beneath her ribs interrupted her musings. She rubbed her hand against the round protrusion now visible on one side of her hugely pregnant belly. Mary Margaret assured her that her baby bump was perfectly normal, but Emma worried she would never see the stairs below her or be able to pick up something she'd dropped, again. A part of Emma wondered if her little one was maybe too comfortable and would just keep growing and growing... Elsa assured her that her healthy baby boy would be here very soon. Emma had been so thrilled to tell Killian they were having a boy that she forgot to ask Elsa to define “soon.” 

The tiny foot pushed into her palm. Unlike the previous movement, this was a gentle pressure against her hand. As ready as she was to meet her little one, she knew she’d miss having him to herself like this. She knew he was a creature of habit; she could tell the time down to the second based on his movements. About five minutes before her usual lunch break, he would be active except on Wednesdays. He didn’t move much on Wednesdays, probably busy growing and such. After dinner, he got the hiccups. He always played back when she pressed her hand against him. It was strange how much she felt she knew this little creature despite having never seen his face or heard his voice.

"Your smile could ignite wars," Killian said as he crossed to her. He kissed her cheek, "inspire masterpieces." He kissed her other cheek, "and revive the blackest of hearts." He met her lips with a sweet kiss, his hand cradling her jaw and his eyes closed as he savoured the kiss as though it were water and he a man lost in the desert. No matter how often they kissed or how chaste the kiss, Killian savoured them all in this way - as though he had been dying and she had given him the air he needed to survive.

Despite the flush his flowery words brought to her cheeks, she rolled her eyes at him. She wrapped her hand around his and took a small step back, pressing his hand to her pregnant belly where the foot had been moments before. "He's up." 

"Hey, lad." At the gentleness and awe wrapped around those words, Emma's heart threatened to burst. She thought she could not love this vampire more, but still, more depth remained. Sometimes, she wasn't sure her heart could hold it all. 

A series of kicks met his words and touch. Killian's answering smile made her eyes burn with tears - the moment too perfect, too...everything...for her to process. 

"I love you," she said wishing there was another word or phrase to relay the emotions rolling through her in this moment. It was love, sure. But, it felt like so much more. It was bigger, endless and boundless, eternal and ancient. She felt a sudden warmth wrapping around her and flowing through her, Killian's emotions meeting hers and holding them together through that strange bond they shared. 

Even more time later...

Emma’s head rested heavily on his chest. Killian ran his fingers through her hair, gently taming the wild locks that had reached out to tickle his chin. He listened to her heart and breathing as she slept. Despite the soothing sound of her steady heartbeat and the softness of her features as she dreamed, he felt the chill of fear creeping up his spine. 

She will wake with the sun. He held firm to that thought; it was his anchor through this particular storm.

Years may have passed, but the dread he’d felt that long week, as he waited for her to wake, refused to dampen or fade. Rather, it wrapped around his heart and stole quiet moments like this one from him. 

He recalled the evening before in as much detail as he could pry from his memory. The long relieved sigh that had escaped from Emma as she sank into her side of the bed, the soft sound of her voice carrying from Liam’s room as she read last night’s chapter to him and his sister as they drifted off to sleep, her green eyes sparkling with humour when Hope transformed her lamb stew into cereal when Killian refused to give into the toddler’s demand, the comfortable - almost routine - kiss she gave him when she arrived home. Hundreds of similar moments came together to paint the full picture of their life together. Recalling them had loosened the tightness in his chest until he was able to watch his wife as she slept without wondering if she would find his way back to him when morning came.

She rolled off him, taking the covers with her. Rest would be even more elusive than usual this evening. Killian considered slipping out of bed for a late-night drink, but the chill of fear threatened to return. The warmth of Emma’s back pressed against his arm kept him grounded - leaving was not an option tonight. With a sigh, Killian picked a book up from his bedside table and settled in to pass the night. 

A few chapters later, a solid thud from Liam’s room pulled him back out of the story. The soft sound of blankets rustling followed shortly after, his only warning, before the air shimmered and deposited his youngest in his bed. Hope’s small toes were already digging into his side like tiny daggers as she wiggled and snuggled in what little space existed between him and his wife. He wrapped an arm around the little intruder and tucked her close to his chest, hoping not to disturb his wife. Hope turned into him- her head tucked comfortably (for her) in the crook of his arm and her eyes already closed. A soft sound between a coo and a sigh escaped from the intruder - somehow she was asleep once more. Killian watched her in wonder.

“You two are heartbreakingly beautiful together. It’s almost unfair,” Emma teased, her voice a gentle whisper in the night.

“Amazing how they fall asleep so quickly when they crawl in here at night given the battle they wage at bedtime. I am sorry we woke you, love.” He leaned toward her to press a kiss into her temple. But, pinned down as he was beneath the sleeping tot, he could not quite reach. He frowned dramatically at her - take pity on a poor vampire?

With the slightest eye roll, Emma relented and brushed the softest kiss on his cheek. When she pulled back and made to lie back down, his frown deepened into a full pout. A slight curve to her lips was all the warning he got before she leaned forward once more and nipped his bottom lip. She soothed the sting of her teeth with a few deep kisses before breaking their contact with a very self-satisfied smile. 

Killian ran his tongue over his lips to capture the warmth lingering from her kisses. Her loving teasing had melted away the last of his earlier anxieties. She slipped from the bed, his shirt falling to her thighs, and disappeared down the hallway. He smiled at her disappearing form and, content with his daughter in his arms and a lightness in his heart, drifted off to sleep. 

Much later… 

It was Sunday, so the delicious rich scent of a roast permeated through the house. He found Emma in the kitchen with flour covering her arms and the tip of her nose as she formed a pie crust. It would be spiced apple pie since that was Artie's favourite and Emma doted upon the child. Killian was also known to spoil the young boy, but who could blame them?

Killian was fairly certain that Hope’s little boy was the most perfect creature ever to have been formed, so they took every opportunity to shower Artie with all the adoration and love they could.

Being a parent had been a journey - sometimes rewarding and sometimes endlessly frustrating. Being a grandparent, however, was an absolute delight. Not only did he get to watch his strong-willed, independent daughter grow into a compassionate and endlessly patient mother, but he also got to soak up the phases of Artie's childhood in a way he hadn't as a parent. Rather than anticipating the next developmental milestone, worrying over the best school decision, or trying to figure out the best strategy to parent finding his child on the top of the kitchen cabinets at four in the morning, he found his role as a grandparent allowed him to be able to just play again. 

“Are you revealing your secret project today?” 

“I believe it is ready.” Killian looked out of the window overlooking the play set he had been designing and building over the last few weeks. Since Artie was over a few times a week, hiding the mammoth from the little pup had been quite a challenge, but Killian had somehow managed.

“The pirate ship theme is a nice touch. Artie loves your high seas tales, even as unbelievable as many of them had become…” Emma said as she smiled up at him. The sight stole his breath, as it had the first time she turned the full force of her unfiltered smile on him. Would there ever be a time where this woman would fail to affect him so deeply? 

“Are you accusing me of embellishing my stories?” Killian asked with mock offence. 

“It has been a few hundred years. You cannot be blamed for misremembering a few details.”

“I have fabricated no details of my experiences.”

Emma cocked in eyebrow - or tried to, Killian was still the most skilled that that trick - in disbelief. “The kraken, Killian?” 

“Every word of it is true.”

“Oh, yes. The kraken saw into your soul and deemed you a kindred soul and so joined your fight against the Royal Navy.” Killian’s ears turned a pink, even as he confirmed that, that was the truth of it. “It had nothing to do with your crew sneaking the fish you were feeding the monster for over a month onto their ships the night before the battle.”

“Aye...well, that might’ve played a small part,” Killian admitted sheepishly. 

“Mmhmm,” Emma agreed. She was pouring the filling into the crust - cinnamon, nutmeg, and sugar warmed the air around them. 

Home. Both the feeling and the word filled him at present. He’d always pictured it as a building, a physical safe harbour to weather one’s life. But after decades spent with Emma, he knew it could be found in a relationship, in another person, and in the life that you create with them. 

“PAPA!” The shout was the only warning he had before his grandson launched at him, propelling them down to the floor in a heap of giggles. Today, their home would be filled with the family they created and there was nothing more Killian dared to want. 

Much, much later…

The legend that soul mate lifespans were entwined was proven true as decades of life faded into centuries. They shared joys beyond what either of them had dared dream. They weathered storms together, learning to turn in toward one another when they needed strength or a haven in which to be vulnerable. And through it all, they held fast to one another, secure in the love they shared and the partner with whom they shared it. 

In other words, they truly lived happily ever after.

Notes:

Oh, I hope you enjoyed this. I have been really anxious about hot to end this work and I really, really hope that you enjoyed the glimpses of their ever after. I look forward to hearing from you... even if I've let you down a bit. (If so, I am very sorry. I cannot emphasise just how many rewrites and attempts I made at this - and this is the one that felt the most right to me. I would ABSOLUTE understand if it doesn't feel as such to you.)

[bonniebird]

Natasha x Reader

Requested by Anon

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Valentine Event

“Mail is on the side.” Tony called. Clint flicked through the mail. Most of it was for mail ins that the Maximoff’s had ordered. There was a copy of an old magazine for Steve. Clint handed you a thick envelope and left to give Wanda her mail.

“What’ve you got?” Natasha asked curiously as you opened the letter and frowned at it.

“I got a letter inviting me to Amsterdam. I don’t know anyone there and I’ve never been but I might go.” You muttered.

“You’re going to go when you don’t know the person who invited you?” Sam asked. He’d been eating cereal with Bucky, it was his current mission to introduce all the good cereal to Bucky in their down time.

“Well… it’s a free trip and it says they’re a distant relative.” You explained. Natasha looked at the letter as you showed it to her.

“This seems like a scam. What could they want?” She asked you. She sighed when you shrugged and said that she would go with you. Tony was updated and insisted on covering the cost of the trip, just in case it was a family member reaching out. Before you left Natasha insisted on at least teaching you how to hide in a crowd. How to change your appearance with just a hair bobble or a baseball cap and some glasses. When the day finally came you travelled together. 

“Have you noticed the people that got on the train a few stops back?” You asked her.

“The ones watching us?” She asked. You nodded and tried not to look directly at the people who had taken seats on the opposite row. “This stop is ours. We’re supposed to get to the gates. There’s a car that will pick us up.” Natasha muttered. You followed her as she got off the train. 

You were still followed. Though Natasha didn’t seem too worried she walked you through the crowd and ducked behind one of the ticket machines. The station cleared and the only people left were the two of you and the people that had been tailing you.

“We lost the Avengers. We know. We’ll get them to you. It looked like the Black Widow was sent with them… understood.” One of them said into a phone they pulled from their pocket. They hung up and turned to their partner. “We need to find the Avenger or the boss will lose it. Apparently their powers will make his machine work. He’s going nuts.” 

“That doesn’t sound good.” You whispered to Natasha.

“We have an evacuation plan. We just need to wait for them to leave.” She whispered back. Once they moved on Natasha led you down a side alley near the station. Then round several back roads until she found a campervan. The keys were inside.

“Let’s go. Once we start driving they’ll get a signal. We should hit our check in point in a few hours and we’ll be able to let the others know what we heard. Then we find a way to figure out who their boss is.” Natasha explained. You got in the passenger seat, glancing back you could see the small campervan was equipped so that you and Natasha could be on the road for a few days without checking in with anyone. She handed you a thin mesh, helping you put it on so you could disguise your face, she put one on and did the same. The cameras on the road wouldn’t be able to pick up on who you were.

“I was hoping it would be… someone from my family.” You admitted as Natasha started driving.

“We’ll find them. Eventually. Even if I have to take you to sketchy meet ups every time until we do find them.” She joked. You laughed a little and smiled, looking out at the road.

Natasha tags:

@daughterofthenight117 @phasma-trash @bluebear142077 @boardstomymood @multi-fandom5 @justice-for-the-kaldorei @favmeyou @kaylantus @skinny-bitch-juice @yougottalovefandoms @devilslilbabysblog @sentimentalweasley @why-am-i-here-01

[whoree321]

the bad batch + what romance/rom com movies they watch with you

each of the bad batch x gn!reader

ok first and foremost i really truly believe to the pits of my soul that every single one of these fuckos loves romances and you cannot under any circumstances change my mind

ALSO it’s a gender neutral reader except kinda in echo’s theres like a very brief quote regarding breasts but like i still think even that is pretty gender neutral tbh

so anyway

Hunter: Pretty Woman

this is not the first time that i have publicly declared that i think hunter has a deep rooted connection to the movie pretty woman and it will not be the last

first of all this movie is incredibly soothing to hunters overwhelming savior complex

second of all hunter is literally richard gere (debonaire but emotionally distant gentleman that learns to love) and julia roberts (hooker with a heart of gold) at the same time

he was a little skeptical the first time you put it on but he instantly fell in love with it

the humor, the sensuality, the class divide, the glamour, the unconventional cinderella story of it all. it just really butters his bread

after the first time, when you suggest watching a movie and you pick this one he’ll act very aloof about it (“whatever you want cyar’ika, it doesn’t matter to me”) but secretly he’s really really happy bc it’s one of his favorites (you def know this and def pick it more often)

he absolutely hates the scene when stucky the lawyer hits vivian. like it doesn’t matter how many times he watches it he will fully turn his head away from the screen and say “I don’t like this part” and when it’s over he nuzzles a little closer into you and very tenderly kisses your forehead

he loves the soundtrack too. like he fully exposes how much he likes the movie when you catch him singing or humming “pretty woman” or “it must have been love” absently to himself (you kept it to yourself for a while but eventually you just had to tease him about it. he just smiled a little sheepishly and admitted he liked the songs before promptly changing the subject)

hunter also lowkey definitely wants to recreate the ending where richard gere shows up to her apartment in the white limo with you bc he thinks it’s such a sweet gesture and he wants to treat you like royalty

Crosshair: 10 Things I Hate About You

if there’s one thing about crosshair it’s that he’s a sucker for the enemies to lovers genre

maybe its just him projecting (spoiler alert it most certainly is) but he really enjoys watching the drama conflama of a miserable bastard be tricked into love

and really that’s the true essence of 10 Things I Hate About You

he will grumble and bitch and moan about not wanting to watch a ‘chick flick’ when you put it on, but 15 minutes in and he’s hooked

he has strong negative opinions on literally every single character except for kat and patrick

(crosshair really really wants to think he’s patrick but when it comes down to it he is katarina stratford in every single possible way)

he doesn’t say a word throughout the entire movie but you can tell when he’s annoyed at like bianca or cameron or joey bc he will openly scoff at them

will absolutely hum along in your ear during the “can’t take my eyes off you” scene and make out with you during the paintball scene

(seriously he wants to be patrick verona so bad)

when it’s over and you ask him what he thought he’ll roll his eyes and say “i guess it could have been worse” but his little smirk let’s you know he enjoyed it a lot more than he’s willing to admit

Tech: 50 Shades of Grey

ok hear me out on this one

tech is a huge movie talker. like subtitles are a non-negotiable if you wanna be able to take in any of the movies dialogue bc tech is most likely gonna make commentary over it the whole time

this makes him absolutely indescribably so much fun to watch bad/corny movies with

he will go off about EVERYTHING. the plot, the dialogue, the acting, the costuming, the music, the production quality. nothing and no one is safe. whether you just enjoy letting him talk at you or you join in on the roast, cheesy movies are a hoot between you two

and honey. 50 shades is one of THE cheesiest movies ever

you and tech will literally spend the entire duration of the movie tearing it to shreds

and the thing is tech is a very sarcastic, funny guy when he wants to be (and when it comes to you he definitely wants to be) so by the end of it he will have you in absolute stitches from laughing at the ridiculousness of both the movie and him

with any of the other batchers watching a movie like this either turns into a shy, slightly awkward experience (wrecker, echo) or an incorrigibly horny experience (crosshair, hunter)

but in this context tech literally has no shame or squeamishness about sexual things (why should he it’s a natural biological process?) so to yall the sex stuff is just another thing to roast

literally christian grey could be fully tying dakota johnson down and flogging her and tech will be like “in the last 3 minutes they have panned up to her nipples 4 times. this is criminally shoddy cinematography”

even tho he’s busy giving a detailed play by play critique, he never fails to keep some sort of physical contact with you (wrapping an arm around you and running his hand up and down your skin, playing with your fingers or your hair) so you know he’s enjoying spending this time with you despite his nasty words about the movie

also 1000% after you watch it tech will do extensive research on the ins and outs of bdsm and will have lots of hypotheses he wants to test out (as long as you’re willing and able ofc) ;)))

Wrecker: 13 Going On 30

of all the bad batch members, wrecker is the only one who unabashedly loves any movie that could be considered a chick flick

like he doesn’t even try to hide it or act like he’s too masculine for it. he loves romance and he’s proud of it

this man will have full marathons with you. rom coms, regular roms, tragic roms, hallmark roms, you name it and he’s game

his absolute favorite tho is 13 Going On 30

i feel like he has a huge soft spot for childhood best friends to lovers stories like he finds that type of lifelong partnership so endearing (and he loves to live vicariously through jenna since that type of romance was obviously never an option for him)

wrecker is also very childlike at heart and i think the idea of a 13 year old sweetheart trapped inside the body of a 30 year old cut throat magazine exec is so amusing to him (and maybe makes him feel just a little bit represented in the media)

he is definitely the type to completely engulf you in a cuddle for the entirety of the movie and he DEFINITELY cries into your shoulder at matty’s wedding when jenna is crying on the stoop with her dream house

he wants to try razzles so bad. like so bad. i think if he ever came across them somewhere he would barter at least one of his brothers for them

wrecker really just loves love and watching movies about it just reminds him of how lucky he is to have his own love story with you <3

Echo: The Princess Bride

i feel like it’s glaringly obvious why echo loves this movie

pirates. sword fighting. decades long revenge plots. the value of an honorable, loyal man. true love that never wavers even in the face of devastating tragedy and the darkest of hardships. clever but goofy humor.

echo considers this an action/adventure movie and NOT a romance movie (even tho it 100% totally is a romance movie) and requests to watch it very frequently

he can quote the whole thing. i’m seriously telling you echo loves the princess bride with his whole chest

even tho he refuses to admit it’s a love story above all else, he really does try to model himself in your relationship after wesley

like especially given what happened at the citadel and all the time you thought he was dead, the cinematic parellels are alive and present in y’alls relationship and he strives to be even half the man to you that wesley is to buttercup

literally in your day to day life he will sometimes respond to your requests with a smooth “as you wish ;)” (it doesn’t matter how many times he does it it still gives you butterflies)

when you watch the movie, he snuggles as close to you as possible and does his best to make youre comfy the whole time (he’s insecure about his prosthetics hurting you no matter how much you reassure him they don’t)

he just loves to be able to feel your heartbeat and your laugh when you giggle at the funny bits

every single time without fail at the part when buttercup is about to stab herself he leans down, ghosts his lips against the shell of your ear, and whispers the line in time with wesley: “there’s a shortage of perfect breasts in this world. it would be a pity to damage yours”

every single time without fail you wind up making out until he pulls away and tells you to watch the next part when wesley challenges humperdinck to a duel to the pain

echo just loves you to bits and wants you to know he’d endure a thousand fire swamps for you

Omega: Clueless

i have this really specific obsession with omega being a total girly girl and having very traditionally feminine interests as she keeps experiencing the universe and being exposed to a spectrum of gender expression beyond clone (masc and boring) and kaminoan (ugly)

so with that headcanon of her in mind, it’s vital to me that she sees clueless as soon as possible

clueless is an essential piece of media for a girl entering adolescence and i will die on this hill

it has literally everything you want and everything you need to develop into a well-rounded young woman

it’s so deliciously 90s and glamorama and valley girl humor and camp. its got meaningful female friendships and valuable life lessons and paul mf rudd

if there’s one thing you should encourage a burgeoning hetero teen girl to do, it’s to stick to dating guys like paul rudd in clueless. the earlier this message can be broadcast the better

the second you’re able to steal omega away from hunters watchful eyes (“hunter we’re just gonna watch finding nemo i swear!”) you show her this movie

at this point omega is not really a girly girl, but omega also has absolutely zero feminine influence in her life

the first time she sees clueless she is absolutely obsessed. like seriously she is so enamoured with the glitz and glam of cher horowitz

she asks you questions the entire time. she wants to know about EVERYTHING. the makeup, the clothes, the hair, the slang

(she definitely goes around saying stuff like “i’m totally bugging” for long enough afterwards that almost all of the boys have slipped up at least once with some ridiculous valley girl slang. you thought you were gonna die of laughter when you overheard tech say “as if!” to wrecker in the middle of an argument)

it just really introduces her to this whole world of femininity that she didn’t even know existed and she absolutely loves it

she makes you watch clueless with her seriously once a week at minimum. she begs you to style her hair like tai’s and you can’t help yourself when you happen to run across a little yellow plaid dress and buy it for her on sight

(hunter was gonna scold you for recklessly spending credits until he saw how omega almost cried from how happy she was for the gift)

honestly she enjoys the romance of it all and paul rudd is def her first celebrity crush but she enjoys more that you and her now have this special thing of hair and nails and pretty dresses

she loves how confident and beautiful and special you’re able to make her feel, and you love that you get to bring her that small sense of normalcy and happiness