#st: plot drop
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chirpsythismorning · 2 years ago
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The Duffer Brothers rushing to put The Last Of Us on the ST5 inspo board after Ep 3
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chadsuke · 2 years ago
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Books Read in 2023:
Delicious in Dungeon Vol. 3 by Ryoko Kui (2016)
Delicious in Dungeon Vol. 4 by Ryoko Kui (2017)
She Loves to Cook, and She Loves to Eat Vol. 2 by Sakaomi Yuzaki (2021)
Crossplay Love: Otaku x Punk Vol. 3 by Toru (2023)
I'm in Love with the Villainess Vol. 1 by Aonoshimo, Inori, & Hanagata (2020)
I'm in Love with the Villainess Vol. 2 by Aonoshimo, Inori, & Hanagata (2021)
I'm in Love with the Villainess Vol. 3 by Aonoshimo, Inori, & Hanagata (2021)
I'm in Love with the Villainess Vol. 4 by Aonoshimo, Inori, & Hanagata (2022)
Midnight Radio by Iolanda Zanfardino (2019)
[ID: Covers of aforementioned books. End ID.]
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jacobbenisreal · 10 months ago
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rank the first three people you see (on your dash) and your reasonings.
*cracks knuckles* Okay, I'm gonna preface this by saying that most men are meh, but that's not their fault. They have to compete with Blainer, who is the epitome of male beauty. And women are all gorgeous to me, personally. Like, I find it's hard for a woman to be ugly. So, let's start
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Giselle Clarke - She's easily a 10/10. She's really really pretty, like on par with Frannie Fabray, Salma Hayek, & Margo Robbie in terms of effortless beauty and grace. Personality? Check. Amazing hairstyles? Check. Nice outfits? Check. But you lose a point because your icon picture is boring. It looks like you're showing off the outfit, but your outfit is not giving us anything. I haven't interacted with her much, so this might change, but Final score: 9/10
Nick Something - He's, like, a 4/10 at first glance. But once you start paying attention you see that he has some nice curls, an okay smile, and, admittedly, nicer eyelashes than Blainer. He gets one(1) point added to his score. Also, have you seen his tree trunk legs?!? One point for those. Finally, he gets another two points because, without him, The Warblers would look like that meme of the men on Ryan Murphy's show that look identical. Except in The Warblers' case, it's with pale skin and brown hair. Final score: 8/10
Stacey Evans - Also, starts at a 10/10. Stacy is a beautiful goddess, a queen, an angel. She looks like the live-action Rapunzel, with her biggo eyes, blonde hair, and cute lil button nose. Sometimes, when I read her posts my mind gives her a Russian accent for some reason. I'm not sure if it's a bad thing, but I can't think of a reason it would be a good thing. So, she loses half a point. I recognize that this is on me, and not her, but this ranking is based on my perspective of her. That being said. She instantly became hotter to me the second she offered to buy me Taco Bell, so she gets two points. Final score: 11.5/10
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yellowmagicalgirl · 9 months ago
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When Eve of Ruin comes out, I hope someone in the Stranger Things fandom will write a fic where the way that the Party beats Vecna is through that adventure
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eddiesjeandiovest · 1 year ago
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Tbh if the characters werent so charming and compelling in st i simply wouldnt watch it bc the writing is SO inconsistent and bad and ive read fanfics that are FAR more comprehensive in plot than the fuckin duffer brothers could ever hope to create like bffr yall get millions of dollars from this show but still cant keep a consistent story????? LOL
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ginalinettiofficial · 2 years ago
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writing a fic and can’t figure out where to end it.
if anyone wants to read a gen stranger things one shot (set pre s4, mainly featuring eddie, mike, & the hellfire club in general) and lmk where u think it would naturally end and/or go next, plssssss hmu i’ll love u forever!!!
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hackett-out · 2 years ago
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i can’t believe im actually more excited for st picard than the mandalorian this season
wild
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jacobbenisreal · 11 months ago
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"Damn, girl. You got those munchies, or something?" JBI asked, mostly because he remembered telling a fellow student about also finishing the oreos the last time he got them. That's when he really looked at her. "Oh, dude. You look so..." He didn't finish, since he wasn't sure who was listening. Though, it was very clear. Still, he just chuckled, because he couldn't image being stone through all this. JBI was dressed pretty comfortably, having been planning a night of blogging and watching late night movies before all of this. "Also, no thanks. Is that all the snacks you have left?"
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In a shocking turn of events, Josephine had gone from playing patty cake and partaking in the devil’s lettuce with her pal Puck, to be evacuated to the gymnasium with her peers. Due to the state she was in, she couldn’t manage to find her own clothing to change into and was forced to choose from the selection of the boy’s. After a quick sniff check to make sure the clothes were clean, she opted for an old William McKinley tee shirt and boxers. Paired with shoes that were several sizes too big, she truly felt like Adam Sandler in the moment.
Play it cool. Play it cool. Play it cool.
Sitting on the ground, she is trying to ease her racing thoughts (thanks to the hash for making her a little more paranoid than usual). Knee nervously bouncing, she shoveled some of her Cheetos into her mouth. “Shit, you hungry at all? I still have some left. I did also have Oreos….but those are gone. It can be our little secret!”
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seiwas · 11 months ago
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₊˚⊹。 i left my keys on your bedroom floor | miya atsumu
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wc: 2.4k
summary: atsumu is the clumsiest guy you've ever met; nothing ever goes to plan, especially when it comes to love. 
contains: f!reader, use of ‘misus’, mostly fluff with a bit of misunderstanding, reader wears heels, some swears, atsumu thinks he’s going to have a heart attack but it’s just him being him, atsumu is an idiot in love 
a/n: not related to the plot, but take a chance with me and fearless remind me of atsumu’s feels in this one (and paper rings will forever be an atsumu song for me)
part of how to be your lover boy (a valentine's collab by augustinewrites & seiwas)
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Atsumu thinks this is the dumbest fuck-up he could have ever fucked up. 
Wood isn’t supposed to feel this cold, but his leg is freezing rested against it. 
Is this what it means to be weak in the knees?
Out of all places, of all times, Miya Atsumu finds himself knelt down on one knee by your bedside, legs feeling like jello at his attempt to look under your bed for his apartment keys. 
This wouldn’t be a problem at all, really; he kneels down all the time—for lunges during training (the bane of his existence if you ask him), for helping his Ma plant those herbs he’s sure she does for Osamu (he hates how the soil sticks to his skin), and for buckling the straps on your heels even, when you need him to (he doesn’t like it, only because he prefers you much more comfortable in softer shoes, unchafed ankles and all). 
So, kneeling isn’t really that big of a deal for Atsumu—
—but you’re there, standing by the bathroom door, staring at him with overwhelming surprise, evidently anticipating something serious enough to bring tears to your eyes. 
This is wrong. It isn’t at all what you’re thinking—he was just looking for his keys. 
“‘Tsum…” you choke out, mouth partially covered by your shaky hand. 
Fuck, if this isn’t the worst way he could possibly do this. 
He’s sure his eyes are wide, brows furrowed by a mixture of worry and regret. 
“Wait,” he holds two hands up, slowly coming to a stand, “S’not what ya think.” 
This is seriously the dumbest way he could fuck this up. 
The expression on your face drops, warmth rushing to your cheeks. If Atsumu could describe how you look, he’d call it worse than heartbreak—the horror in your eyes flashing embarrassment and the creases between your brows screaming rejection; what once were lifted cheeks have now sunk, turning into an undeniable frown. 
There are tears threatening to spill from your lash line, for a different reason now, he thinks, and it’s all his fault—it makes his heart break that he’s the sole culprit. 
And the sick thing is, despite all this, he still finds you the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, backlit by a halo of fluorescent white that he’s tempted to drop everything he originally planned just to do it right now. 
“O-oh,” you mumble, “sorry, I just thought–” you close your eyes, taking a deep breath, “nevermind, that was stupid of me, Tsum.”
When you open your eyes, a single tear falls, and he tries not to comment on how you wipe it quickly, feigning a smile as you walk past him, mumbling something about making breakfast and preparing his lunch for when he heads out.
And, well, he feels shitty, that’s for sure. One, for making you cry, and two, for even making you think, just for a second, that he doesn’t want to marry you. 
It wasn’t stupid of you to assume he was proposing at all. He’s hinted at it enough in the past few years, calling you ‘the misus’ enough times when mentioning why he’s heading home early from post-game dinners and parties. His Ma keeps a photo of you and him in his childhood home, and Osamu’s given you a family discount at Onigiri Miya now, too (which is only 1% higher than the friends one, but it’s the fact that he considers you as family that makes it feel much larger). 
He likes coming home to you, likes that you don’t force him to do anything. That if he chooses to stay out, it’s all fine by you—he’s just stopped looking for that kind of life anymore; it’s a lot more fun getting to cuddle up on the couch with you. 
His legs still tingle, and he crouches down again with a big sigh. The silver key is there, glistening from the light directed from his phone, and he reaches to grab it, fishing for the metal that, if he’s being quite honest, hasn’t fully served its purpose in the past three years anyway. 
Four years together, and Atsumu has lived with you for most of them. The only reason you still have separate places by name is because of the apartment he owns in Osaka, meant for training season and game days. 
Other than that, home has always been your place. 
And lately, he’s been thinking of moving somewhere where home can now officially be both of yours—it’s the whole reason he was looking for his keys in the first place, with property managers and realtors coming in to assess the space. 
The new place—he’s hoping for it to be somewhere in the middle of both you and him, maybe a bit bigger, who knows? He was planning to ask you about it after the proposal—the one he’s planned and has been trying so hard to keep a secret from you. 
It’s a miracle he’s managed to keep it this hush so far. He’s got the ring, the venue, the speech, and has even asked Osamu to take the video (even though he knows he’ll never let him live down every jitter and stutter he’s bound to make). And the date, the oh-so-important Valentine’s day that you’ll both remember forever. 
The living room is awfully quiet when he steps into it, no sign of you and your usual humming to whatever song’s been stuck in your head. He walks to the kitchen counter, eyeing a plate of eggs with a bit of fried rice; you packed his lunch, just like you always have—fatty tuna with some rice and vegetables on the side.
Atsumu thinks he could cry, his upper lip already trembling as he stares at the piece of paper in front of him. 
Written in your delicate handwriting is a short note: ‘grabbing some grocery, be back later.’ signed with nothing—no ‘love you’, no ‘see you later’, no x’s and o’s. Just nothing. It sucks even more because the grocery is your place, your one escape when he’s upset you enough that you can’t even look at him. 
Yet, you still made him breakfast, and you still packed his lunch—that’s the only thing giving him hope that he hasn’t fully fucked this up. 
.
“Samu, I think am g’na die.” 
The scenery beside him whizzes past quickly, creating a blur of blue, green, and white. His head leans against the window, and he adjusts an earbud, increasing the volume to hear the call better. 
Osamu sighs on the other end, the sound of clinking pans and crinkling plastic muffled in the background. 
“Y’said that t’Ma the last time, what’s it now?” 
Atsumu groans, the memory still fresh in his mind; when he called his Ma a little over three years ago, he was a stuttering mess, breath unsteady and voice shaky at 1:00 a.m. The pounding in his chest would not stop, he thought for sure he was going to have a heart attack. 
His Ma diagnosed him all right, called it a serious case of ‘in love with you’—because, when he recounted everything he could have done to cause any potential uptick of his heart rate, all he could talk about was you. How you held his hand and laughed at his jokes, called him handsome even when he was sweaty and gross; how you nursed him to health even though he was probably stinky and dehydrated from an insane diarrhea episode. 
All these years later, and he’s even more in love with you. 
“I fucked it up, ‘Samu. The plan ‘n everythin’? Poof.” he gestures with his hands, even though he knows audio call doesn’t allow him to be seen. “Dunnow if there’ll even be ‘nyone t’propose to.” 
Then, he tells Osamu everything—the search for his keys, kneeling on the floor, the mistaken proposal but how he would have done it there, how he wanted to but didn’t because he actually managed to plan something and didn’t want to throw it away.
But then he said it all wrong, then you cried, and he really did mess it up; he wasn’t even able to say goodbye. He’s miss-called you thrice and you’ve only replied with ‘can’t talk right now.’ (which he knows is suggested text because you always say ‘later, baby.’ or something else more time-efficient). 
“Ya dumbass,” Osamu sighs again, words still sharp but tone a bit more rounded, “just give it time, ‘n stop catastrophizin’. Y’ve put y’self in stupider situations ‘n hav always made it somehow.” 
Atsumu feels like crying, again, but Osamu’s always right. He lets out a tear or two, maybe a sob for another five minutes, and when he recovers into small sniffles, Osamu tells him to get some sleep to clear his head—he’s holding the line in Onigiri Miya during peak time. 
.
His Osaka apartment feels even emptier than usual even though it shouldn’t be all that different. Meetings with realtors and property managers finished an hour ago and all they need is the go signal from him before they put the property up for lease. 
He was supposed to stay here until the end of the week, to meet with PR for sponsorship deals and brand campaigns throughout the year. But, the only (non-suggested) text he received from you today was an indication that you were home and heading in early for bed (which, he knows is a lie, because a new episode of your favorite show is airing tonight and there’s no way you’re missing it after last week’s cliffhanger). 
And he can’t, just can’t, leave you thinking that he doesn’t want to marry you. 
So he decides, fuck it, and packs it up—books a last minute train ticket back to you and hopes to god that he gets the words right this time. 
He’s never been this nervous in his life. 
The olympics is a close runner-up, but nothing compares to this, standing outside your door with his finger hovering over the doorbell. It’s funny, because he has your keys, knows your passcode too—but it feels wrong entering your space without the assurance that you still want him to. 
What makes him ring the bell is the sickening twist in his stomach that warns him: this fuck-up could make him lose you.
So he presses it once, then twice for good measure, and before he can do it thrice, you’re opening the door, in sweatpants and a hoodie (his hoodie) as you rub the puffiness out of your eyes. 
You’re beautiful like this, too, he thinks—dressed in his clothes, staring at him with those eyes, standing in front of him and looking like the rest of his life. 
“Please don’t break up wit’ me.” 
The words stumble out of him freely, with barely any time for him to process it. Atsumu feels each pounding in his chest and knows now, just as his Ma said, that it’s all the love he has yet to let out.
“I–” he begins, hesitating. He’s still wearing the same joggers and bomber jacket from this morning.
His hands clench into fists and he pushes them in his pockets, unsure what to do with them; the bottom of his lip trembles and it’s starting to make sense why people tell him and Osamu apart by ‘the one who always cries’. 
“T-this mornin’,” he looks up to find you leaning against your door, listening, “Was lookin’ ‘round cos I left mah keys on y’r bedroom floor.” 
You nod, tilting your head to urge him on. 
“And I was kneelin’,” he breathes out, “and y’thought it was somethin’ else, but I said it wasn’t. And I shouldn’t ‘av ‘cos it came out all wrong and it wasn’t what I planned. Then ya cried but still made me breakfast ‘n lunch and it was good, just like everythin’ ya make is. But ya went to the grocery, and baby,” he chokes up, tears falling, “‘m sorry. S’not what I meant. Please don’t break up wit’ me.” 
Atsumu is a bumbling, stumbling, stuttering mess as he cries in front of you, his incoherent rambling a jumble of all his mixed-up feelings. He’s sure he looks dumb as hell right now, a fully grown man in tears at your door—but your brows furrow in concern, jaw tightening as the pout on your lips deepens. Then, you take a step closer, arms stretched out to pull him into your shoulder for a hug. 
This is why Atsumu loves you—
This is why Atsumu has never been more sure of the future he wants. 
—because, even when he’s fucked things up and has made an absolute mess of himself, you’re always there, picking him right back up. 
“T’sokay Tsum,” you hush, rubbing circles on his back, “there’s no need to explain.” 
He sniffles, tucking his face against your neck. It’s impossible to miss the sadness underlying your comfort. 
You’re wrong—it’s not okay, and he absolutely has to explain. 
After he’s calmed down and the tears have subsided, he pulls away, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand and apologizing for all the snot he left on your hoodie. 
You look confused and a little bit surprised as he takes a step back away from you, his hand immediately reaching inside the pocket of his joggers. 
“Y’know I can’t keep anythin’ from ya, right, baby?” he flashes you a small smile, a little nervous. 
You nod, because it’s true. Not a single birthday or celebration has ever surprised you because Atsumu’s always ruined it; he just can’t keep a secret from you. Either that, or things just never go accordingly. 
“Well, I kept this one real good. Planned it ‘n all. Had everythin’ set.”
The velvet box in his pocket is smooth to the touch, his fingers turning it over. It feels tangible and real now, a moment’s away from his life being changed, forever. 
He feels like crying again. 
“Was g’na do it on Valentine’s, ‘cos I had it all rehearsed ‘n shit.” 
Realization dawns on your face, eyes wide and your chest caught on hold—as if you’re expecting the wrong assumption again. 
But when Atsumu gets down on one knee, reaching from his pocket to present to you a ring hidden in red velvet, his fingers tremble when he says, “Know s’not Valentine’s, but can I be your forever Valentine?” 
You blink once, then the tears fall—the smile on your face is a little bit wobbly but an awful lot in love. You kneel on the floor with him, your hand reaching out to cup his cheek, pulling him in for a kiss.
The both of you are a tear-y mess on the floor, but when you part, he leans his forehead against yours, ring held up between his fingers as he asks just to be extra sure, “So… s’not a goodbye kiss is it?” 
You smack him on the chest before slipping in your finger. 
“S’a yes kiss, Tsum.”
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thank you notes: @augustinewrites for suffering through this atsumu train with me & @soumies + @mysugu for helping me with tsumu characterisation and for listening to me ramble abt this fic!!
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comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡
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queenie-ofthe-void · 5 months ago
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Hear Me Out, Keep Me Guessing
Steddie || wc: 2.5k || rating: T || tags: alternate first meeting, pre-S4, Eddie is a rollercoaster of emotions, Steve is over it, fluff and flirting || ao3
Inspired by my own post
☆☆☆
“Okay, Munson. What’s your fucking problem?”
Eddie hops on top of the wooden picnic bench to gain a slight height advantage over whoever’s decided to fuck up his day, when he spots none other than Steve Harrington headed towards him through the trees, fighting his way through brush and bramble.
“Well, well, well. How the mighty have fallen. Crawling through the dirt just to visit his former court jester.” Eddie smirks, hears Harrington mutter something under his breath that sounds a lot like jesus christ before he finally makes his way over.
Harrington’s looking up at him, squinting into the sunlight, and Eddie’s slightly repelled by his sudden desire to run a hand through King Steve’s hair. It shines in the sunlight, matching the flecks of gold in his brown eyes.
Eddie takes a step to the left, casting him back into shadow again where he’s just his normal, asshole self and not the angelic image Eddie conjured from his horny, queer little brain.
He can’t remember if it’s his turn to talk or Harrington’s, but it seems the King’s lost the plot as well. Completely zoned out, he’s just standing there staring up at Eddie, mouth dropped open and eyes wide in a way Eddie will certainly not be thinking about later tonight. Absolutely not.
Eddie coughs. Loud and obnoxious enough to break whatever trance they’ve found themselves in. Harrington awkwardly chuckles, running a hand through his hair. An image of Steve leaning against lockers, towering over a girl with heat in his eyes and a hand in his hair floods Eddie’s brain before he can shake it out like an Etch A Sketch. What the fuck is even happening to him?
“Yeah, Munson. Like, what the hell is your problem?” It lacks punch and drama the second time around, but it gets them back on track. Harrington props his hands on his hips, his lip juts out into a tiny pout, and Eddie wonders if he thinks standing like a disappointed mom is effective in getting what he wants, or if being adorable just comes naturally to the former King.
“You’ll have to be more specific, my liege.” He watches as Harrington brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration and he makes a mental note to develop a better, more refined taste in men.
“The kids, man. Why aren’t you friends with the kids?”
“Kids? What the hell– what kids?” He hops down from the table. If this is going to be a legitimate conversation and not a shake down, he figures it’ll be easier on even footing. Harrington takes the seat opposite him, his shoe accidentally knocking Eddie’s ankle.
Steve doesn’t move his foot. Neither does Eddie.
“My kids, man. They said they tried talking to you all week and you wouldn’t even hear them out!”
Eddie watches his fingers tap absently on the table top. He’s biting the inside of his cheek, and it’s shocking that Eddie is just now realizing that Steve’s actually anxious. Normally Eddie considers himself better at reading people, when he’s not distracted with puffy, pink lips and a confusing line of conversation.
He looks down, rewinding the past week. He’d made it through his first week of his third senior year without anyone getting in his face. Maybe he’s old enough now that even asshole seniors like Jason Carver have decided to leave him alone. Thankfully it seems the offer also extends to Gareth, Kenny, and Jeff, who’ve only reported minor name calling and a light shove.
That’s where he spots them, stops the tape midway through lunch on Wednesday when a group of three freshmen approached the table. He’d spotted the curly-haired kid earlier in the week, bravely decked out in a Weird Al shirt and a hat from some science camp. The kid was enough of a freak to earn free admission to Hellfire, but the other two required a bit more thought.
Eddie clocked Little Wheeler through the station wagon window Monday morning when he’d cut Nancy off in the parking lot. The kid seemed alright, but with a priss like Nancy as a sister, it was a tough call. The other kid seemed a bit too sporty, and a little too interested in basketball tryouts.
When the three amigos started talking DnD, the guys invited them with open arms. It was a relatively peaceful lunch. Exciting even, at the prospect of adding new members to their campaign. They’d mentioned trying to convince a few of their friends to play. A girl named Max Mayfield, who turns out lives a few trailers down from Eddie.
But when the curly-haired kid mentioned Steve Harrington, the Hellfire boys clammed up tighter than nun’s ass. His named dripped from their mouths like it was covered in gold, the hero-worship rotting them from the inside and Eddie wouldn’t stand for it. No true freaks would stand to be friends with an asshole bully like King Steve.
Of course the freshies tried to argue, saying he’d changed. It didn’t matter to the Hellfire boys. Clearly the freshmen were corrupted, and they couldn’t be trusted. So he’d sent them on their way, and the three of them posted up in the corner of the lunchroom every day since. Far away from jocks and freaks alike.
Now, Eddie looks across the table and sees false bravado slathered over the anxiety etched into the former King’s face. He doesn’t know how three freshmen freaks found themselves under the wing of Steve Harrington, but it seems the feeling is mutual. Steve cares about these kids.
“Yeah,” Eddie says, “I remember them. What’s it to you, Harrington? Aren’t they a little too old for a babysitter.” The joke falls flat when Steve sighs, heavy and exhausted, like somehow a rich boy from the Loch carries the entire world on his shoulders.
But he plays it off, trying to meet Eddie’s quip halfway. “Babysitters get paid, dude. I do it from the goodness of my heart or some shit.” Steve leans back, scrubs his hands over his face like he can erase whatever’s behind his eyes.
Eddie stares at him, hoping to catch a glimpse. The only consolation is Steve puts his other foot on the opposite side of Eddie’s, his ankle now fully cradled between Steve’s.
“They’re nerds, man.” Harrington states it like it’s a fact and not an insult he’s hurled at Eddie a hundred times over the years. “They’re freaks, you know– like you.”
Moment officially broken, Eddie scoffs, pushing away from the table wondering why he ever entertained talking with Harrington in the first place. As he grabs his lunchbox off the forest floor, he hears shuffling behind him.
“Wait,” Harrington shouts. “Just, fuck man, can you just let me finish?”
“Finish what, exactly?” Eddie snaps, whirling around to crowd into his space. He wears big and scary like how the King wears his crown and how assassins wield their blades. With enough power and confidence to scare off any enemy. “Finish listening to you shit on the little guy? Listen to you harp on the freaks of the world, or how you corrupted your little pions?”
“What?” Steve asks, lips pursed and eyebrows scrunched. Eddie’s not surprised his jock-rattled brain couldn’t find that word in its very limited dictionary, but what does surprise him is that Steve doesn’t back down. They’re practically nose to nose, so close Eddie can spot a small freckle on his lash-line, and Steve’s standing here like he doesn't have a care in the world while Eddie screams in his face.
It’s quiet again. He can hear the rustle of tall grass and birds overhead. He can feel Steve’s breath on his lips and Eddie can’t remember what they were talking about. Again.
Steve grabs his shoulders, and in his daze, Eddie lets himself be maneuvered back to sitting at the picnic table, while Steve stands in front of him.
“Are you always big and loud and obnoxious? Can you just cut the shit for like, five minutes so we can have a normal fucking conversation. Jesus christ, you’re practically perfect for them.” The last part is quieter, seems more like an unfiltered afterthought.
“Ok,” Eddie says. If Steve’s willing to take the crown off long enough to talk with Eddie, then maybe he can shed his own metaphorical battle vest. “Say what you have to say, then.”
Steve clears his throat, shuffles slightly as he gains his footing. He looks at Eddie with a determined set to his shoulders.
“Henderson, Sinclair, and even Wheeler– they’re my kids. I’ve spent the last nine months watching out for those little shits because all they’re good at is getting into the worst kinds of trouble.” Eddie tracks him as Steve paces the forest floor, rambling and raking a hand through his hair like it helps him think. “But I remembered you didn’t graduate, right? And you run that Dungeons and Dragons club–”
“Whoa, whoa,” Eddie interrupts. Steve stops, turns to face him, and shoots him the bitchiest glare Eddie’s ever seen, but before he can say anything, Eddie pushes on. “You, Steve Harrington, King of Hawkins High, leader of meatheads and bimbos alike, know what Dungeons and Dragons is?”
Steve sighs, hands back on his hips as he rolls his eyes. “Ha ha, Munson. Don’t worry it’s all against my will, okay? I’m not coming to steal your freaks and weirdos so I can lead them too.” He smirks, and it pulls a laugh out of Eddie, shocked that Steve’s willing to joke around with Eddie at all, let alone when it’s at his own expense.
“Now, quit interrupting me, you’re as bad as Henderson.”
Eddie mimes zipping his lips closed, only to open his mouth to swallow the imaginary key. Butterflies explode in his chest at the sound of Steve laughter, and Eddie wonders if bashing his head into a tree would be a decent excuse to explain the red flush erupting on his face.
“Anyways,” Steve chuckles. “They’re smart as shit but don’t know when to give something up just to get out of a fight. I’m surprised they haven’t gotten their asses handed to them already, and everyday I pick them up all I'm thinking about is which one of them I’m gonna have to stitch up. Sure, some of the guys in the grade below were alright, like Andy. But guys like Hargrove, like Carver.” Eddie can practically see the dark cloud form over Steve’s brow.
He remembers as well as anyone the fallout of Harrington v Hargrove, Fall 1985. There’d been endless rumors about what happened, each one more ridiculous than the last. Now he’s left wondering if it’s not really about Nancy, or drugs, or Billy fucking Steve’s mom, but about these kids. The timing checks out, nine months on babysitting duties lines up pretty well with when Steve showed up to school beaten and broken.
Maybe Steve isn’t all he seems to be.
“Guys like Carver won’t mess with you. They’re too scared you’re using DnD to worship the devil and get kids into sodomy and drugs and shit like that. I told them that you’d be cool. That you’re big and loud, that you play DnD like them. You're smart and you read the same nerdy books. I told them they’d be safe with you, man.” Steve rubs his face again, until his hands fall to the sides and he tilts his head up towards the sky. “I just need to know someone’s looking out for them. Please, Eddie, just–”
“Okay.”
Steve’s attention snaps back to him, relief written plain as day in the wide set of his smile. “You’re serious?”
Eddie can’t help but smile back. He’s not sure he’s ever seen Steve smile so unguarded, and never aimed his way. The sheer brightness of it fills him with warmth he wants to wrap himself up in.
All on top of the fact Eddie's never gotten this many compliments from anyone before, let alone from a guy as gorgeous as Steve Harrington. His ears are practically on fire.
“Yeah, Harrington. I’ll share custody of your little nuggets.” Before he knows what’s coming, Steve sweeps him up into a hug, lifts him fully off the ground and can feel the tinkling of his laughter on the shell of his ear.
“Thanks, Munson. Damn, you have no idea how freaked out I’ve–”
“What about the other stuff?” Eddie can’t stop himself from asking. He has to know, deep in his bones, that Steve is thinking this through. That Steve won’t change his mind in a few days or months and decide it’s time for Eddie Munson to eat dirt.
He lets Eddie go, but holds his shoulders at arms length to look him in the eye. Any lingering mirth has been replaced with intent curiosity. “What stuff, Munson?”
He can tell by Steve’s tone they’re both talking about the same thing. Rumors that’ve haunted Eddie since eighth grade after Davey Richardson beat him up under the bleachers. It didn’t matter that Davey kissed him first, all that mattered was he was popular and Eddie was weird.
He’d grown numb to the slurs over the years, but how could he forget hearing the reason why Byers beat the shit out of King Steve. The only surprise from that fight was it sounded like he never even tried to fight back.
“Harrington, if I don’t get to act loud and obnoxious, then you don’t get to play dumb.” The intensity of Steve’s stare reminds him of the few conversations he’d had with Chief Hopper before he’d died. The man could tear Eddie down to the bones with one glare, and he’s sure it’s the only reason the Chief brought him back to the trailer instead of a jail cell.
“Eddie,” Steve says, tone firm, “I’m not that guy anymore. I don’t care about the shit people say, especially self-righteous assholes like Carver. The only thing I give a shit about is you watching over the little gremlins and not selling them drugs, so I can breathe easier when I don't have eyes on them.”
Steve shakes him lightly, like it’ll sift this world-changing view into his brain, then pats his shoulder as he passes by him.
“Wait,” Eddie shouts, always a glutton for punishment. He spins around to catch Steve walking backwards away from him, hands in his pockets, effortlessly cool. The sun’s catching his hair again and there’s a smirk on his lips. “You really don’t care?”
Steve laughs, taking a step back. He chews on his bottom lip, and he smiles when he catches Eddie looking. Because he knows. Steve knows now, before Jeff or Wayne or anyone else.
“Eddie, whoever you decide to love or fuck– or not– is none of my business.” He turns to leave, and as Eddie relaxes he hears Steve call out, “unless you want it to be.”
Steve’s light laughter follows him out of the woods, and Eddie plops himself down in the same spot on the same wooden bench in the exact same forest as he always does every Friday after school. Except a twenty minute conversation with Steve Harrington leaves Eddie feeling like his world's been turned upside down.
Maybe ‘86 will be his year, after all.
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uluvjay · 3 months ago
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Bed Chem-J. Drysdale & M. McTavish
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Jamie Drysdale x fem! reader x Mason McTavish
In which the Ducks are in town and you three revisit something you thought got left in Anaheim
Warnings;? Smut, threesome, oral (m receiving), kissing, cursing, protected sex!, p in v, porn with a plot pretty much!, I apologize for any errors!
This follows my nasty girl au so i recommend reading these two parts first!
Day five of my Kinktober special!
You truly thought you’d never find yourself in this position ever again especially not after the trade.
However the bottle of wine and delicious steak dinner quickly escalated and next thing you knew your boyfriend and Mason had you trapped against the kitchen counter.
Your skirt was pushed up around your waist with masons hand between your thighs while Jamie’s lips were locked with yours.
You moaned into Jamie’s mouth as Mason pushed in a second finger, his rough fingers slightly thicker than Jamie’s.
“Missed this didn’t you.” Jamie spoke in your ear.
“Fuck yes.” You moaned, there was no use in lying Jamie could tell anytime you were.
Jamie knew something had brewed between the three of you after those nights in Anaheim and when he caught you drooling at masons workout photos a few weeks ago he knew what he had to do.
While he’d told you he invited Mason over for a simple dinner in your new Philadelphia apartment the two men had actually talked about sharing you again.
Mason grunted against your skin from where his tenth sunk into the opposite side of your neck, his scruffy beard tickling the sensitive skin.
“Feels so good Mase” you whimpered, head tipped back as you enjoyed the sensation of the two men against you.
The weight of their strong bodies pinning you against the counter had your mind spinning with dirty possibilities.
They were so alike but so different in bed, they both aimed to please you and that’s all that mattered to them but fuck when differences came in, they were very different.
Mason liked to fuck, and fuck hard. He wants you screaming till your voice is hoarse and throat raw as his back is cut open from your nails and you’re both so tired out that you can’t even move after.
Jamie loved to make love, he drew orgasm after orgasm from your body until you were shaking and crying. He fucked you deep and slow, fucking you right to sleep after your body was to spent to keep going.
Feeling both of them at the same for the first time in a year had your body feeling thousands of things at once.
Masons deep voice pulled you out of your head his encouraging words and sped up movements making you realize how close you were to reaching your end.
“Come on honey, can fell how tight your cunt is clenching around my fingers.” He purred in your ear as his teeth teasingly nipped the lobe.
Jamie smirked at the way your body responded, your mount dropping in a silent moan, body shaking as your high continued to rapidly approach.
“Gonna cum for Mason baby?” He asked dark eyes locking with yours admiring the blown out look in your doe eyes.
“Mhm” you nodded the overwhelming pleasure not allowing you to get a proper word out.
“Come for us, come all over my fingers while your boyfriend watches like the little slut you are.” Mason smirked.
And come you did, your body shook as your back arched into the air eyes rolling to the back of your head as the pleasure became to much for a second.
Both men watched as the pleasure raked through your body, sharing a smirk as you went slightly unresponsive for a moment until Mason moved to pull his fingers from your dripping cunt.
Your eyes snapped open watching as the brunette brought them to his mouth and sucked, a low groan leaving his body at the taste.
“Missed the taste of that pretty cunt.” He smirked dipping down to connect your lips.
You moaned at the taste of yourself allowing his tongue to fill your mouth as he took lead, you wrapped your arms around him, hand tangling into the curls at the base of his neck.
Pulling away you turned to look at Jamie who stood next to the pair of you, eyes glittering with lust as his bulge pushed against the tight denim of his jeans.
You could feel masons poking your lower stomach, knowing both men were just as needy as you were you moved away from them.
On shaky legs you begin to move towards your and Jamie’s bedroom, slowly pulling of your top and throwing it behind you.
Next thing to follow the trail was your bra and soon your skirt, looking back you found them both staring with hungry eyes.
“Coming?” You smirked before disappearing down the hall and into the master bedroom.
By the time both men got their shit together you were laying in the middle of the lush bed, condoms ready on the bedside table.
They both groaned at the sight of your bare body, quickly stripping of their clothes they joined you on the bed.
Jamie made quick work of flipping your body so you were on your hands and knees with Jamie in front of you and mason behind.
And wow was the Deja vu strong.
“Masons gonna fuck you while I take your mouth, that okay baby?” He asked.
“Yes, please.” You begged looking up at him with nothing but hunger and lust.
He smirked at your expression before handing Mason a condom.
You could hear Masons small whimpers as he slid the latex over his thick cock and it didn’t take long before you felt the cool material rubbing at your entrance.
“Ready pretty girl?” He asked.
“Yes fuck me Mason, please.” You whined wiggling your hips against him in desperation.
The man chuckled at your antics before he pressed forward sliding his cock in inch by inch to allow you some time to adjust.
Jamie watched as your mouth dropped open at the mix of pleasure and pain, your eyes squeezing shut until Mason was all the way in.
You released a breath of air at the feeling, you were so fucking full. Where Mason was a little thicker than Jamie they were just about the same length so you were used to how deep the man was sitting inside of you.
Seeing that you were content Jamie guided his cock to your mouth smirking as you opened it with no hesitation.
He groaned as he slid inside of your warm and wet mouth, he went till his cock his the back of your throat and your small gags filled the room.
He sent a nod towards his friend and next thing you knew they were moving at the same time the pleasure causing you to cry out so loud you were sure the people next door could hear.
The pleasure was overwhelming it filled every inch of your body to have both of them sharing you again.
The way Masons hands came down against your ass as Jamie’s hands pulled on your roots had your body shivering with need.
“Such a good girl.” Mason grunted from behind you.
“Taking us so good.” Jamie joined in on his friend’s praise.
You pulled away from Jamie to catch your breath stroking him with your hand you looked behind you, catching sight of Masons sculpted body.
“You two feel so good, filling me up so good.” You babbled before Jamie was bringing your mouth back to his cock.
The sounds in the room were downright dirty, a mix of your gags on Jamie’s cock and Masons skin slapping against yours had your mind reeling.
You could feel the band in your lower stomach getting tighter and tighter the mix of the both of them with your earlier orgasm making it hard for you to hold the next one off.
You pulled off Jamie with a pop, “Getting close.” You cried out before dropping back down to take his cock once again.
Mason didn’t need you to tell him, he could feel the way your cunt clenched around him the way your moans got louder and louder around Jamie’s cock with every thrust.
He couldn’t lie he was almost there himself, it had been a year since he felt your tight cunt and he was struggling with himself not to come like some inexperienced teen.
Jamie was right on the edge as well, the vibrations of your moans had chills running down his spine, his grunts and groans no better then either of yours as your mouth worked wonders on his cock.
“Shit.” He moaned hands gripping your hair as he took full control and pushed his cock in and out of your mouth.
You held his eyes as he fucked your mouth watching as his chest began to heave and his thrusts got sloppy before eventually coming to small stutters as he came down your throat.
You didn’t hesitate to swallow it all, sticking your tongue out to show your boyfriend you swallowed it he shook his head at you.
“Such a nasty girl.” He panted before lying back against the headboard eyes now trained on how his friend continued to fuck you.
Jamie could tell you were close, your moans had turned into little pathetic cries and your thighs were beginning to shake slightly.
“Mase! Fuck I’m cumming.” You cried.
Jamie smirked at your words realizing he knew you just as well as you knew yourself.
“Go ahead pretty girl, milk my cock like a good slut.” Mason spoke.
His words sent you over the edge as your body began to quiver; freshly done nails digging into the cotton comforter as your mouth dropped open in a silent scream.
You pulled Mason over the edge with you, choppy moans filling the room as his hips began to stutter and he fucked the both of you through your Highs.
“Fuck, fuck fuck.” He groaned before spilling his load into the tight condom.
He took a second to catch his breath before pulling out slowly and collapsing on the bed next to your spent body while Jamie looked down at both of you.
The older of the two smiled as he watched you curl towards Mason for warmth and he took that as a sign to get you a bath started.
“I’ll be right back.” He spoke softly slipping off the bed and sliding his boxers back on as he disappeared into the bathroom.
Feeling Masons hand run over your hair you opened your eyes to find him smiling at you softly.
“You uh-you know I didn’t come here to just sleep with you right? I swear I really did miss you guys.” He spoke up.
Your heart ached at the worry etched on his face, “Hey, I know you would never do that Mason. You are to nice of a person for something like that, and thank you we missed you a lot too.” You smiled softly.
“It’s been so weird without you guys.” He hummed softly.
“Same here, it’s so weird not waking up to Trevor belting Katy Perry at seven in the morning or you screaming because you can’t find your socks.” You laughed.
“Hey! It’s not my fault that damn washer is a sock muncher” he groaned.
You guys shared a giggle at that before relaxing into a soft silence your eyes meeting once again and before you knew it both of you were leaning in.
You locked your lips in a soft kiss tongues dancing around each other as his strong hand rested on your hip pulling you closer to his sweaty body.
You two make out weakly until Jamie popped back in the room to let you know the bath was ready forcing you two apart.
Carrying you into the bathroom Mason sat you in the bath, asking Jamie where you kept the sheets so he could change them quickly.
Jamie joined you in the tub after his friend set off for new linens, his body relaxing behind yours he began to wash you.
“Thank you for this.” You spoke up.
“Don’t have to thank me baby, it’s something we both enjoy.” He shrugged, kissing the back of your neck softly.
You hummed at the feeling of him allowing his hands to continue running along your body as he washed you clean.
“Missed him a lot, it’s weird living without him and Z still” Jamie said after a few moments of relaxing silence.
“That’s what we were just talking about, it was nice seeing him.” You smiled.
Jamie agreed reaching for your shampoo to wash your hair continuing with your shower routine before he was up and drying himself off, helping you next.
You two exited the bathroom to find Mason laying on the clean bed with fresh clothes and wet curls hinting that he took a quick shower in the guest room.
“I’m gonna jump in the shower and I’ll be right out.” Jamie placed a kiss to your head before going back into the bathroom to wash himself properly.
“Feel better?” Mason questioned.
“Yes” you smiled grabbing some pajamas before getting into bed next to him snuggling close to his side to watch whatever he had on.
Jamie joined shortly after on your other side his large body sandwiching you between them as he too turned his eyes to what was playing on the tv.
You fell asleep like that, tucked between their strong bodies as they both held onto you like you’d slip away in their sleep.
There truly was noothing got better than that.
-
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blackkatmagic · 6 months ago
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Can I ask why you're so strongly against emojis as comments?
So there are...two parts to this answer. One is in the frame of like...my brain interprets someone dropping an emoji as basically the equivalent of a like. "I was here, but I didn't like what you created enough to say anything about it." And I get that, truly. But due to physical and mental health things in my recent life, writing has been hard. Getting that kind of response is super disheartening, even if I know logically that most people don't see emoji comments the same way I do.
The other part is that I'm old. I've been in fandom for a long time - I was on email lists writing ST fanfic, and then in weird subgroup forums where you were only allowed to write certain things the mods felt were "canon-supported", and then finally on more mainstream sites like ffnet and AO3. Fandom's always been a community for me, right from the first. I would not still be writing if it hadn't been for the handful of fans who were exceptionally kind and encouraging to a nerdy German girl who wrote in bad English and had weird ideas for plotlines and talked too much. They were the people who kept me going, having conversations with me and leaving kind comments on objectively bad fics and getting jazzed about the same things as me.
In fandom as a whole, emoji comments are a very new phenomenon. I've gone back to look, and they only started becoming common about two years ago. And now, before I asked people not to leave them, they were rapidly becoming the majority of the comments I received.
Again, I get why. It's an easy way to show appreciation. But it's also a complete lack of engagement. It means someone liked something! But as the writer you have no idea what. There's no community to it, just bland consumption of the content you're rolling out. No one is talking about fandom, they're just taking. And I see my hit counts. I know that's always happened, but it's getting to be more and more of a thing. Emoji spamming on every single chapter of a 70-chapter fic might feel, to the commenter, like they're being super supportive, but it's also less impactful for a writer and a fellow fan than a person who leaves one comment that says something they liked about the plot or the writing style or some neat flip on a canon trope.
So yeah. Basically it's a "get off my lawn" thing about how the youngsters in fandom have no appreciation for the effort artists and writers and the like put in, but. I don't think I'm wrong, given the way things are trending.
Anyway. Reblog things, comment on things, send people asks, interact with things if you want fandom to keep going, my dudes. Otherwise it's going to die out. And people dropping emojis instead of words 99 times out of 100 is a symptom of that.
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aineryeo · 6 months ago
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The Legend of the Blue Sea Episode 2: Once Upon a Dream
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Chapter Synopsis:
Kenji still doesn't know that you've bonded with him, considering him as your mate from there on out. What he does, however, is take a bath with you as he inches on the edge of being the father of a cute giant pink baby lizard; where he makes the decision of keeping you around too. Just enough to investigate about your possible human personality, of course.
Themes & Warnings (Chapter):
Warnings from the General Masterlist | Flashbacks | Canon Movie Scenes | The Ice Bath scene | Nudity | Kenji whimpers :p | Suggestive themes
Author Notes:
Okay I think this is going a little slow HAHAHA, I changed my mind regarding a few plot points but I literally wrote the ice bath scene at 4-5 am in the morning because I couldn't sleep. i keep DREAMING about it. like it wasn't supposed to be part of the chapter tbh but i think st. michael was giving me a sign !!
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The Legend of the Blue Sea: Masterlist
Episode 2: Once Upon a Dream ⇾ Episode 3.1: Maybe This Time
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“Mom? Mom…” Kenji sobs, there are small sounds of pit-a-pats from where he stood. Which was a community playground filled with colourful slides, swing sets, tubes, and sandboxes.
The playground however, was not as lively as you’d think. The weather was gloomy that day, the sun hiding behind rumbling clouds threatening to spill the water they’ve soaked up from the sea. Kenji kept looking around, yet he remained lost, the same as he was five minutes ago. To the seven-year-old boy, it was like five months.
“Hi,” a girlish voice cuts through the sobs of the only other kid around. “Why are you crying? The other kids here say that boys aren’t supposed to cry.”
Kenji frowns, lips still wobbling as he makes his reply. “I lost my mom…”
“Oh.” You hum, looking down at your mismatched socks, noticing how the boy visibly had brand-new sneakers. “Hmm… Don’t worry, I lost mine too.”
“Really?” The boy replies, nose still stuffy as he tries to wipe it with his sleeve. “Will they find us?”
You shrug. “My real one won’t find me.”
“Your real one? You have a fake mom?” Kenji asks, curious.
“I don’t know. I never met my real one.” You reply, walking to the swings and taking a seat. Kenji does the same, sitting next to you. “But I know my mom right now isn’t my real mom, so, I ran away.” You say all this with such a tone that didn’t contain much sadness; as if it was just a normal thing to do so.
“What? Why?” Your feet kick yourself off the ground, allowing you to move back and forth. Kenji follows suit, trying to match your force. Once he got the hang of it, he continues. “Are you not scared?”
“I am. But they don’t want me, I think.”
There are a few seconds of silence as Kenji could no longer spark up a reply. All you both could do was swing on the set together. Feeling like he has to say something, Kenji blurts out the first thing that came to mind.
“My dad said I should love kaiju even if he fights them.”
“Woah! Your dad fights the giants?!” You exclaim, digging the heels of your red shoes on the dirt below. Kenji only nods at this. His swing keeps going. “I think the kaiju are super cool. And Mr. Ultraman too. Is your dad Ultraman?”
“Dad says it’s a secret.” Kenji replies with a pout.
“Then, would you love a kaiju?”
The question makes Kenji stop, the swing set back in its still state as you stare at each other’s eyes. 
“Baka! Why would I love—” Kenji stops, your eyes remain wide and curious. And despite the stormy weather, they still chose to shine. A heat creeps up from his neck up to the tips of his ears for reasons beyond him. 
“...I’m, maybe?” He trails off, breaking your intense eye contact. He then mutters, unsure and low:“If they’re cute enough, why not?”
Before you could respond, however, you two started feeling the rain slowly drop down, seconds before it turned into a downpour. 
“Ah! It’s raining!” Kenji exclaims. Without saying anything, you grab the boy’s hand, leading him into the plastic tube to hide from the rain.
“We can hide here while you wait for your mom.” You assure, you and Kenji sitting with your knees bent to hug yourself better. Every other second, you scoot closer to each other, trying to get warm from the cold breeze picking up.
It’s a few minutes more of silence, maybe ten or so, that Kenji felt like crying again. You heard sniffles from beside you, making you tilt your head to see his glassy eyes, tears brimming the edges.
“Dummy, are you going to cry again?”
“I miss my mom and dad…” Kenji says quietly, digging his face into the caps of his knees.
You breathe out through your nose, feeling bad for the boy.
“Here, face me.” 
Kenji hums, still upset as he does what he’s told.
“You can’t be sad after this, okay?” You say as you lean in and Kenji felt your lips meet his. “There. That means I’ll be around when your mom and dad aren’t. So, stop crying okay, dummy?”
“You’ll… be around when mom and dad aren’t?” Kenji says after the brief kiss, not really processing what just happened. Both your cheeks and nose were a mix of warmth from each other, and cold from the rain.
“Yes.” Kenji continues to look at you curiously, waiting for more context.
“My mom and dad right now say that’s how married people are. They stay together even if no one else is around.”
You point your small finger to his face, he looks at it then back at your unyielding gaze.
“Especially if no one else is around.” You share the valuable piece of knowledge with Kenji who soaked it all in like you were a prophet. He nods slowly.
“Then, we’re married?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
The conversation ends as you two bask in silence again. This time, Kenji is the one to look over at you, staring at your sombre look towards the passersby covering their children with their umbrella; carrying them on their arms to avoid them getting wet. Your expression barely changes, but the way your eyes lidded lower.. it compelled Kenji enough to hold your hand, shocking you.
“Hey! What’s wrong with you?” You ask, mostly out of shock. But you don’t let go.
“I’ll be here too.” 
You realise he’d been staring at you when he said that, making you turn away, resuming your waiting game as you squeezed his hand lightly. He squeezes back. The rain somehow felt more mellow.
Half an hour later, Kenji’s mom arrives at the playground with his dad, ushering him to their car. As Kenji was about to point towards you, he sees you running through the rain, cutting a corner, before disappearing out of his sight.
“What is it, Ken?” Emi Sato asks, carrying the boy in her arms as she checks for injuries, now in the backseat of their car. She glances towards where her son’s eyes were fixated, seeing nothing but the empty playground.
Kenji only shook his head, choosing to say nothing. All he could think about now was when he’ll meet the person he married again.
“Were you lonely, Ken?” His mother asks. He perks up to look back towards his mother’s worried gaze.
There’s only one answer dripping from the tip of his tongue, his hand tingling in warmth, remembering the soft embrace it had just minutes prior. 
“No…”
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Your lips were soft against Kenji’s slightly chapped ones, both your bodies stuck in the motion of the accidental kiss. There was a small spark of electricity that climbed up from the bottom of your spines, a tingle that's much too noticeable.
It was merely six seconds. 
Kenji would know. 
He counted. 
Six seconds for you to pull away, five of you just staring into the other’s similarly wide orbs; four for Kenji to catch a whiff of that addicting scent he never noticed until now, and three before your eyes finally drooped, your head nuzzling his chest. Kenji's plain white shirt getting wet alongside with it before he feels your whole frame lose its tension, breathing resuming its slow and quiet rhythm.
Kenji remains quiet, his brain absolutely fried, staring straight ahead as he sits to support your weight, comparatively light for the athlete and occasional superhero, especially now that you weren’t a giant. His hands hover over the smooth expanse of your bare back, his legs spread, lightly encaging your snoozing figure. His mouth still ajar, not a word slipping from him.
Eventually, his hands meet the damp skin of your shoulder and the middle of your back, pushing your figure against him even more. He supports your head that was now resting on his shoulder, even as your hair lightly tickles his ear.
“Ken.”
The sudden call of his name from Mina finally releases him from whatever trance he was in. Almost forgetting the giant baby kaiju a few metres away from him who, surprisingly, had settled down; sitting on its hind, watching you and him with a curious gaze.
“I… Uh, yes. Sorry. Uhm,” He clears his throat. “Could you fetch us a towel, Mina?”
It takes only a minute before the ground next to him opened up, a mechanical hand holding the extra white towel was handed to the boy, who takes it wordlessly, working to wrap it around you as delicately as he possibly could. Taking note of your legs and arms littered in bruises and quite nasty wounds.
“I’ll take her to my room, watch over the baby for a minute.” Kenji says. “I’ll prepare the guest room tomorrow.”
“Sure, Ken.”
Once you were wrapped in the soft cotton, Kenji moved to carry you in his arms effortlessly, though he winces every now and then when he rotates his left shoulder a little too much, though it wasn’t that big a deal compared to your injuries. While walking, he would glance at your face, peacefully asleep as if you weren’t even hurt at all. He notes that your eyelashes were the same colour as your hair and eyes, that is, they’re all prismatic in nature; and with the absence of light, there is the absence of colour, where he understands your features much better.
Kenji arrives at his bedroom, setting you down gently on his king-sized bed, turning the duvet so that it covers you, he doesn’t think much of his sheets getting damp from your hair. 
You remain unmoving, both hands rested on your stomach. Kenji finally takes a deep breath in as he drops his weight to the apex of his feet, crouching as he really takes in what happened. 
His hands covers his face; lightly messing his hair in the process as an unexplainable heat pushes its way up from his chest.
Apparently, what happened smelled like Hinoki Wood and Yuzu.
“Ken, your father is waiting outside the door. It seems he has driven here in a haste.”
“Min— Shhh,” He chastises, stopping mid-call to lower his voice. 
“I’ll get to it.” He whispers in reply.
Easily enough, he’s getting off his feet and shutting his door closed as he made his way to the front door. On the way, he starts hearing distant music and giggles from downstairs, along with flashing lights.
“Mina!” Ken calls out from the living room. “What’s going on?”
“The baby had begun fussing two minutes after you two went upstairs, I have discovered that she is currently happy with Doraemon”
Kenji sighs, “Okay, but keep it down a little. Dad might suspect something.”
“But there is something.” Mina replies.
“Shut it, Mina.” He interjects, Mina doesn’t reply, knowing that Kenji particularly has a difficult situation with his father.
Kenji opens the door, looking back to regard if the lights are still on, just as he looks to see that his dad was about to knock.
“Kenji,” his dad almost whispers, a relieved undertone transfixed in the simple call of his name.
In haste, he runs his hand through his hair, ears still catching the tunes playing in the basement.
“Dad, hey. Hey, what’s up?” Kenji leans in, slyly closing the door a little bit more, giving worried glances towards the glass elevator before giving his minute focus back towards his father. “How about that game tonight?” He plays dumb.
“Oh, thank God. You’re okay?” His father fusses.
“Yeah, you know. I’m good.” He allows a little bit more of his body to show that he really was good. “It was a tough battle. I’m a little sore, still recovering, but—”
Suddenly, a screech that Kenji knew was from the baby kaiju pierced through the air, making him reel back in defence behind the front door. His dad, the invader, moving a pace forward like a rook on a chess board made it easy for Kenji to spot the suspicion on his face.
“What was that?”
“Uh…” He needs to come up with something— “Uh, you know. It’s… Uh…” Suddenly, the lights behind him visibly changes. Green, blue, pink— 
“That’s the.. The party downstairs.” He jives along.
Kenji fails to notice the swift change, the quirk of his father’s eyebrows. “The most magnificent creature on Earth has died. The last of its kind.” With each word, his father’s words become more punctuated with anger, hands flailing along with it.
“And you throw a party!?” 
Red. For a brief second or two, Kenji’s mind, his thoughts, were clouded in red; an emotion quickly visible in his face and body. 
“That magnificent creature nearly took my head off, Dad.” 
This time, each word was not only punctuated in anger, but stomps that slowly but surely made his father back away from the shelter of Kenji’s patio, the rain dripping on the old man who could only recede and listen to his enraged son.
“I’ve barely seen you in twenty years. You chose this city and literal monsters over us.”
“No…”
“Then, you get hurt, can’t hack it anymore, and I get to come back and clean up the mess you made as…” Kenji raises his hands in mockery as he sings the branded tune the masses had placed upon his famous counterpart. “Da, da, da, da! Ultraman.”
“—Which I only did because Mom begged me.” Kenji pauses. “And you’re more worried about the monster. Classic.” 
With eyes that sheened in a way that scratches at Kenji’s nerves, his father chalks up a reply. “No… I only wanted to.. protect you.”
It claws in his chest, a familiar wall that’s repeatedly been torn again and again, by the same person; enough so that Kenji could still feel the recurring pain, but no longer does he break down from it.
“But you didn’t.” He says, eyes glassy. “You didn’t even pay attention.”
The furrow in his father’s eyes disappear, a notable change; cognizant of his actions.
Kenji continues.
“Be honest. When Mom disappeared, did you even look for her?”
~
“I stopped hearing it.”
“Stopped hearing what?”
“Do you think kaiju have a special way of communication?” Tadashi asks mindlessly, spinning on his desk chair.
“All animals do, now let me sleep.” Hiro replies, covering his head with a pillow to possibly drown out whatever his big brother could mutter.
But telepathically? 
Is there a possibility? Tadashi thinks, leaning on his elbows that rested on his knees, fingertips of his hands on each other.
And if he can hear it, why can’t Hiro?
Tadashi leans back on his desk chair with an audible sigh. If he were being honest, he didn’t know why he was suddenly so invested in the recent kaiju sighting. His eyes fixated on the smaller version of his whiteboard dedicated to his looking for you in the past three years hidden behind the shelves in his lab at Tokyo Tech. He often hides this side of him from Hiro. This side of him that’s… too dedicated in his search that definitely has been fruitless for years.
It’s simple. 
The scene of the incident, a huge gap in the wall of the building where your personal laboratory was; a trail of disaster followed right after. Like many other kaiju incidents, everyone suspected that it had walked from the sea. Considering that the building was situated on the seaside.
It was late at night when it happened, you went back to your office because you left something and… that’s it? 
You’re just.. gone? Now he has to grief over his sister who he had just spoken to an hour prior to your leaving asking if you wanted some ramen he was cooking because he was too busy studying for his exams and— Tadashi had to catch his breath even though he wasn’t speaking, feeling his heart beat a mile a minute.
They weren’t given much information past that. 
The authorities say that they were just unfortunate that a kaiju had attacked the facility; no security footage, considering that the building was crushed in half. But out of everyone, the guards, other leftover researchers, they were able to leave unscathed while your brothers had to deal with the loss of their pillar; their big sister. Unable to even confirm if you’re dead or not, hoping that you’ll come back, even injured, to them.
Tadashi ran his hand through his hair for the umpteenth time that night.
Truthfully, he was about to give up. He was about to take off all the newspaper clippings, all the letters, all your bank records, any and all leads from his rolling whiteboard; erase all the theories, and maybe, just like his little brother always told him… to just.. move on.
But then, on the way home after Tadashi introduced Hiro to his friends at Tokyo Tech after getting arrested for that night when Hiro won one of many of his recurring bot fights, the invasive sounds of the oceans permeated through his mind; wrapping around it gently like a blanket of warmth, telling him, making him understand— that he had to go there. To you.
“Bioacoustics.” Tadashi snaps, getting his favourite cap off his desk as he runs down the door. A course set to Tokyo Tech.
He leaves, not knowing his little brother whose eyes blink open, a frown on his face.
~
We share the pain of her loss, Kenji. 
“Yeah, right.” Kenji mutters beneath his breath.
A few hours have passed since his dad visited and left, a few hours into the morning. He hadn’t gone down yet, choosing to just have the time to himself for at least once today. A box of donuts beside him as he slumped down lazily on his couch. The distant sound of thunder and the whining of the baby fills Kenji’s ears.
He sighs heavily. Kenji knew that he stepped a line earlier when he mentioned his mother to which his father solemnly left right after he said the same words that were stuck in his head amongst other things. It seems like there’s too many things getting stuck in his head recently, and just for this day alone. How did he even get into this mess?
He was so tired, yet he couldn’t sleep a wink.
Kenji would walk around aimlessly, every other time going to his room just to look at you from the doorframe; still and unmoving, your eyelashes resting easily on your now dry cheeks. From here, where your fins and scales were hidden by the combined efforts of your towel, hair, and his duvet; you absolutely looked human. Maybe part of the 0.1% because of your inhumanely beautiful hair. A princess would fit. You look like a resting princess to Kenji. And he, with his dishevelled hair, stained shirt, and day-old pants, would probably be the fucking peasant on your feet.
Kenji disregards the thought, the shrill whine of the baby reaching his ears. He groans, head drooping down as his hand slides from the frame. Walking towards the elevator after getting his donuts, he heads down to the basement.
Mina, in a slightly panicked tone, explains the baby’s neverending screeches that added on to Kenji’s inability to sleep.
“She settled down for a minute, then started right back up.”
“Yeah! I can hear it!” Kenji replies, exasperated.
“She’s still scared of you, Ken.” Mina explains as Kenji puts down his box of donuts on the floor.
“Ya think?” He gets sassier by the minute, Mina thinks.
Looking back at the shrieking baby, Kenji groans; before clapping his hand with faux energy, walking a little further back to try a little trick up his sleeve.
“Hey! Hey, hey.” He calls out, catching the baby’s attention. “Hiii!”
“Let’s try this.” Kenji mutters, the baby still frowned, faux cries coming from its little— big beak. Kenji motions to himself, “Beforeee.”
Then, he bumps his head as he transforms into his alter ego. “After!”
When the baby caught sight of her other sole parent, a smile was quickly seen on her face.
“Before,” She whines.
“After!” She smiles, chitters crooning from her throat, visibly pleased.
And it goes on like that for a minute, enough so that the baby, seeing her dad transform in and out of Ultraman form, give off a confused expression, still trying to put two and two together. Eventually, her chitters come when Kenji is in Kenji form.
Kenji sighs as he approaches the now happy baby. “You see? It’s me.” He explains, turning around and sitting next to his box of donuts once more.
And it wasn’t even two minutes in that the baby started whining again.
[...]
After tending to the baby that Kenji creatively decided to temporarily name ‘Baby,’ giving her a litter of fish for an early morning breakfast— considering it was probably 3 AM by then, Kenji fell asleep on the floor in front of Baby’s containment unit. 
And woke up to strange drops of liquid on his face.
“Eugh, what the…” His eyes, still squinted and opting for sleep, meets the hazy vision of the baby looking down at him, dripping drool. Drool on him, smelling strongly of fish and guts, and… and.. and drool!
Kenji rolls over quickly just before a fat drop falls directly on his face while his mouth was open.
“Oh, God.” He spits out, trying to wipe the substance off his face. “Ew! Ew!” 
He scowls in a second, transforming into his Ultra. Baby tries to reach for him, but Kenji was already on the verge of throwing up from the stench, his fingers pinch the nape of the baby’s neck like she was a kitten. A disgusting trail of spit follows the baby around and Kenji keeps trying not to gag at every moment when he pulls the baby off the edge of the containment unit.
“Ugh, that’s disgusting.” He shakes his head, hand reaching for the lid of the unit. “Oh, that smell.” He looks at the baby who was so happy in return; tummy full from the meal he haphazardly gave earlier. But then suddenly she burped and let out a glob of drool, enough to cover nearly half of his Ultra’s face, luckily turning a little so as not to swallow anything. He coughs, really about to throw up. Quickly putting the baby back to the bottom of the containment unit, he rasps out a few more gasps and Oh Gods before putting the lid back on where it belonged, not seeing the baby try to reach for him.
“It’s so bad.” Kenji coughs out.
Kenji stumbled back releasing his Ultra-form. Crouching a little as he groans out. “I shouldn’t have eaten all those donuts.” He gasps, brain actively fighting to ignore the horrid smell surrounding him when Mina suddenly approaches him.
“Ken, I know you’re exhausted. But you have a game today.” He has a what?
“After last night? There’s no way we’re gonna play.” He shakes his head.
Mina moves back to flash the holographic news of his coach declaring that despite the battle, the stadium is safe, and we will be playing the game. Oh, bullshit. He is not excited to even see that Yakult Swallows fucker.
“Of cooourse. Of course, we’re still gonna play.” Kenji says, frustration evident in his tone.
“What are we going to do about the baby and the woman, Ken?”
“We aren’t gonna do anything.” Ken replies, shrugging, a mechanical hand giving him his Giants jacket.
“You are gonna have to figure something out.” He continues, putting on his jacket backwards without thinking, walking towards the glass elevator. “Get creative, Mina. You are a state-of-the-art supercomputer.”
The hovering orb listens as she understands the orders given to her; turning back to flash a different kids show towards the baby.
“Studies suggest this isn’t healthy for children.” She states, upbeat music overtaking the basement as the baby immediately fell in fascination of the bright colours.
“Ah, TV, the ultimate babysitter. Just not all this crap all day, okay? I don’t want her getting hooked on that stupid song.”
When finally arriving upstairs, the sun has already risen, he opted to take a quick shower to get rid of all the nasty fish spit left on him by the baby. When entering his room right after to get some clothes, he finds you still fast asleep. Not a twitch, not a hair out of place.
A towel still wrapped around his waist, Kenji decides to approach you in quiet footsteps. If only to check if you were still breathing, and you were, he confirms, after placing his ear close to your face.
“I wonder what your name is,” He says lowly, sighing and sparing you one last look before going to change and leaving for today’s game.
~
⌈ And there’s another strike. Sato just looks exhausted. ⌋
⌈ And now it looks like there are words being exchanged between Sato and the Swallows catcher. Oh! Oh no. We haven’t seen a brawl like this in a long time. Both benches have cleared. They’re throwing punches… ⌋
Now, Kenji was watching this morning’s replay of his ruffle with that stupid Swallows catcher in the middle of his living room. Watching as he sees a pathetic version of himself, missing strike after strike. A litter of bruises and small cuts on his face, his knuckles a nasty mix of blue and purple from delivering similarly menacing blows because of his undiluted anger.
He doesn't sense the silent footsteps approaching him in the dark room, head too deep in the failures within his past two days and the injuries he’s incurred so far. A whine falls from his lips as he tries to appease the patched bruise on his temple with the premium canned drink that mockingly had his once flawless face plastered on.
It was only when you were standing right beside him, dipping your finger in the ice did Kenji fully comprehend that someone was in the room with him. He yelped, almost sitting up.
“H-hey.” Kenji exclaims. “You're awake. What are you—”
His words die down from his throat, words turning to a gulp, when the loose towel around you drops to the ground, exposing you to the man who had his mouth agape, taking it all in before he realises he should be darting his eyes away. 
You don't spare him a glance when you try to step in the tub, Kenji moving his feet to give you room, and really, to begin getting out of there.
I mean, he can't just bathe with you, can he? Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to take the indulgent step of bathing in the middle of the living room.
His efforts to go and step out are stopped when you gently place your soft hand on his rigid arm. You're quiet, voice unheard, but it seems like your sounds that blanket over Kenji's cortexes are working just fine. And it— you said: 
Stay.
Like a puppy, he felt compelled to stay. 
So he did. 
You stared at him, and he observed your movements, the cooled can from his hand had long been forgotten as you kneel between his legs, your ice-cold hands dragging along his. From his palm, to the space between his fingers, to his knuckles and… Up, up, up, following the veins that decorated his overworked arms, the ticklish sensation made him drop the can from his lightened grip.
All the while you looked at him so earnestly, and in this light, it's like there was a brief flash of the more natural hue of your features; the usual iridescence dialling down a notch, making Kenji, among the other things you were doing to him, hitch his breath for the subtle flicker in changes.
The moment was quiet, none of you talking as the volume of the video he watched on repeat had been dialled down in his head. All it was in this moment was your touch on his, every gentle, slow drag of the freezing tips of your fingers on his bruises and scratches left such a sensation. Like electric fire on water, but also ice on skin on the hottest summer days.
Whether it was a spark or from the cold, or from something else entirely, Kenji at this moment, didn't care to know. Because your hands finally reached his collarbones, thumb rubbing circles on his Adam’s apple, and if you weren't so… so delicate with your touch, he would have blamed you for making him feel so choked. Like he couldn't breathe, like he didn't want to breathe anything else but the addicting scent you were giving off. You’d have to have been in the ocean for so long. How come you smell like this? Not of salt or fish, or—
He cuts his own thoughts off as he hears a small hum from your throat, his eyes that he hadn't noticed to be so lowly lidded already, on the brink of closing from your light caresses, widens at the slightest hint of your voice.
Your hand traces up from his collarbone, up to his neck, until you're perusing your way to his bruised cheek and damp hair. When you decide to leave your hand on his injured cheek, pressing a little, Kenji involuntarily lets out a whimper, the pain from the punch of that stupid catcher unironically catching up to him.
But even with this, Kenji finds himself leaning to your touch, eyes instinctively closing when the pressure returns to a light careen, allowing himself to delve deeper into the abyss you were taking him into. His cheek where your hand lay felt cool, a separate feeling from the ice, like it's carefully taking his pain away. 
You move the slightest bit, hand pulling away; and Kenji's first instinct when his eyes shot open was to hold your wrist.
“Don't,” He whispers quietly, his cool breath fanning you who looked at him with your currently doe eyes in surprise. It seems that Kenji has a habit of not noticing things involving you. He didn't flinch from the closeness, a surprisingly welcome gesture for him. “Don't stop.”
For a brief moment, he forgets that you're half-kaiju, and that you haven't spoken a word at all since you two met. But when you rise from the water, bare chest seen for his eyes only, his other arm wraps itself on your waist subconsciously. Your legs and his tangle as he sits lower on the bathtub, allowing you to sit taller than him so he can bury his face on the curve of your neck and shoulder, dipping down to the valley of your soft breasts as he sighs in contentment, eyes closed all the while his arms wrap around your torso.
You were sitting on Kenji's navel, arms wrapped around his neck as your hands combed through his hair while you rested your cheek on his temple. It was quiet, not even the sound of the looping clip on the wall-to-wall TV was getting any of yours and Kenji's attention.
It's soothing, this feeling.
Kenji feels like you’re unravelling the knots on his physique, the pure sensation makes his fingers run along your slightly arched back in appreciation. 
With his eyes closed, trapped in your soft embrace, Kenji allows the time to pass by. Not seeing the slowly pulsing, bioluminescent glow of the once normal water of his ice bath. The cooling sensation wasn’t from the ice any longer, but from the conduction of your healing enzymes, your kaiju features coming out strong, the brief reprise of your earlier change in features disappearing, replaced back into its original state of prismatic disposition.
“Ken,” Mina’s slightly excited voice calls out and Ken snaps his eyes open, the once peaceful environment long gone. “We have something to show you.” He groans when the chirps from below reach his ears.
When he pulls away, he’s careful not to let you graze.. him. You only stared in curiosity, wondering why he was plucking himself away from you. Kenji makes a point to only stare at your eyes, and only your eyes despite quite literally using your chest as his pillow not only a few minutes earlier.
“Let’s get changed, okay? Close your eyes so I can get out.”
Kenji shouldn’t be surprised that you didn’t understand what he meant, so he lightly grabbed both your wrists, still pointedly ignoring the curve of your waist, disappearing into the icy bath, and how you were so soft cushioned on his comparatively hard stomach. Honestly… how did he look past all of this earlier?
“Here, cover.” He says, holding your hands over your eyes, the fingers leaving an undeniable gap, which he would close. “Cover tightly.”
When he made sure you weren’t leaving your arms loose, Kenji moved to get up from the tub, his only guiding light is the TV, he scampers for his towel, wrapping it quickly around his waist before turning around to fetch you yours. Only to see that your eyes were already set on him.
“Hey! I said cover!” Kenji exclaims, already feeling his skin growing red from the embarrassment.
“You’re actually a perv, aren’t you?” He asks, but you remain quiet, simply observant of his actions. When he leans down to grab your towel beside the tub, his eyes dart over to his knuckles that were once purple. Now, it was back to his original shade of skin. His brows furrow at this and he immediately moves to touch his once painful temple, cheek, and then arm— until he rotates his dominant shoulder.
The realisation dawns on him as he looks at you, still a little worse for wear, only tilting your head at his gaze.
“No way.” He mutters. Kenji turns on the lights to the room, making you squint and hiss. 
“Sorry.” Kenji offers you your towel, wrapping it around your shoulder. “Come on. Up, up.” He pats his arm for you to take.
[...]
 When he got downstairs, you in tow, Kenji had a little pep in his step. Briefly forgetting the other reason he came down. You were currently dressed in Kenji’s old Dodgers shirt and one of his old boxers; the only few that would fit you. He thought it would be a nightmare to dress you at first, but you were a quick learner. Kenji only had to show you how he got his own shirt first before you followed suit and things went from there; of course when he had to show you how to put on his old boxers, it was decidedly… too much to show you how he does it firsthand.
So, he opted to put on the rest of his clothes in his walk-in closet away from your tailing figure. Kenji decided that he was lucky that his Dodgers shirt was big on you, enough to cover a good portion of your lower half so that when he instructs you to put your feet on the holes of the only other clothes he had that fit you, he wouldn’t be staring it at the face.
“We’re definitely going to need a trip to the mall.”
When the baby caught sight of you and Kenji together, she chittered, the massive fins on either side of her head lightly twitching as she smiled. Kenji gives you a brief look as you grinned so brightly at the baby, your hand that once held on to Kenji’s arm was now set on the glass container as you met the baby face-to-face.
Kenji smiles. “Mina, I have some good news.”
“Wait, Ken. Baby has a surprise to show you, remember?”
“Oh, yeah. Yes. What was it?”
When the music started playing, the baby started jumping, dancing along. But the foul odour took away the charm of the cute dance. So much so that even you reeled back, a scrunch on your nose.
“Oh, dear God, what is that smell?” Kenji exclaims, covering his nose with his arm.
“Ken, you cannot feed a 20-foot baby a half ton of fish and expect nothing but a giant pile of—” Shit.
Kenji’s gaze flitters to the green goo that the baby repeatedly stomped on in its little happy dance.
“Which brings me to something we need to discuss.” Mina continues. “Until I am able to find Kaiju Island, we’re going to need to raise her.”
The mention of Kaiju Island perked Kenji’s ears, he’d briefly forgotten how much he needed to send the baby back.
“And as for the woman…”
“No, no. We can’t send her back to Kaiju Island, she’s obviously not a monster.” Kenji stops. “But she does know Kaiju Island. She should, shouldn’t she?”
“It is a possibility.”
“Look, so far, she’s not acting wildly. She’s just a little…” Kenji watches as you peruse the shirt you’re wearing, seeing the peeks of scale glistering from your wounded legs. “New to all this. And she learns fast too.”
Your eyes catch on to Kenji’s and he waves at you lightly. You smile, all pearly white, at him.
“Ken, your heart rate seems to spike when you are around her.”
The statement makes Kenji reel back. “What?!”
The floating robot does not respond from her out-of-pocket statement however, opting to float towards you.
When Mina approaches you, you lean back, afraid of the foreign levitating ball. When the supercomputer emits the same cyan light, you run, all the way towards Kenji who huffs when you bump into him in your haste to avoid getting scanned. Your being scared was obvious as you hid behind Kenji’s back; you three were a little far from the baby now, mostly Kenji’s attempt to smell the stench less.
“What if she was a person before all of this, Mina?”
“There are no records or any news at all of cross-contaminating human DNA with kaiju DNA.”
“It would feel wrong to send someone that looks, acts,” not talks yet, but— “You get what I mean.”
“Then, we’ll just have to arrive at a compromise, Ken. Earlier I said that we must raise the baby,”
“Mina, I’ve got a whole season of baseball ahead of me.” Kenji digresses. “I.. I just can’t do it.” He turns around, about to leave and head upstairs.
For Ken, raising a baby was an entirely different responsibility than… teaching someone, he would reason in his brain. He wasn't going to raise you, he just needed to.. investigate.
You turn your head from the baby to Kenji.
“Ken, you brought her home and now she is your responsibility. I have observed that our other guest doesn’t mind helping you with her. In any case, she’s more experienced towards kaiju behaviour. So if you want to keep one of them, you’re keeping both of them.” Mina keeps going, and Ken can only stay quiet as he steps back with every self-effacing statement the robot made.
“They will both die if you don’t take care of them until they are ready to leave. Now, it won’t be easy, but I’ll do everything I can to help.” The bot asserts.
“We’ll have to continue feeding her, washing her, develop a strategy for taking her to potty.” This makes Kenji flinch, looking at the giant pink lizard who was giggling in the similarly giant glass container she was in.
“You’ll have to learn the five S’s.” Kenji trips back a little as he keeps walking backwards, back slowly to the containment unit. 
“Swaddle, side, shush, swing, suck.”
The sudden rumble of the surroundings makes Kenji and Mina look back, your tail swashing as you transform into your kaiju form; Kenji’s old shirt and boxers on the ground beside you.
~
The night ended rather quietly after Kenji finished cleaning up and with you humming a familiar tune to put the baby to sleep. Along with coming into terms that he basically had a kid starting then. Now, Kenji was walking to his room, ready for bed. The guest room was ready for you to sleep in, and even after Kenji pointed the bed there, you kept following him. He grunts.
“No. You sleep there,” He points again, and you dumbly look towards his finger pointing. However, he reels back when he realises you flinched in surprise at his sudden action.
A weird feeling of guilt overtakes him, and he sighs. “Why are you so clingy with me?” He whispers, mostly to himself, really.
As he went on though, he no longer stopped you from following him. Eventually, he was lying on his bed. You stand there, waiting.
“Come on. Lie down.” Kenji pats the space beside him. The change in disposition is so obvious, your glee spreading across the room and wrapping Kenji in unreposed warmth.
You jump on the extremely soft and fluffy mattress, diving beneath the covers like a bean. A bean that eventually found its place on his chest, grinning widely. Your whole body hid beneath the thick duvet, your face the only thing peeking out. The sight made Kenji breathe out a chuckle as his hand lands on your head, lightly patting it.
“Thank you…” Kenji starts, your chin resting on the middle of his chest, eyes fixated on him. “You know, for whatever you did. I feel better.”
You may not have understood him word for word, but the message seemed to have gone through, ending up with you simply humming and smiling up at him, before your cheek replaced your chin as you begin to get comfortable. 
For now, Kenji can allow this.
He closes his eyes, unknowingly basking in your warmth and the way your body seemed to melt into his.
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Taglist: @moonjellyfishie @mochminnie @lovingyeet @vrxouei @secretyna
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hnbka · 13 days ago
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ppl who complain about the gap in between st seasons make me SO MADD
(1) it takes ten months to film and ten months to do post production (and i'm sure pre-production happens from the end of a season to the beginning of filming)
(2) SEASON 3 DROPPED 2019. SEASON 4 2022. CAN YOU THINK OF A MAJOR EVENT THAT HAPPENED BETWEEN THESE TWO DATES????
(3) its insane they even managed to release season 4 in two years after they started filming (in feb 2020 nonetheless). they had to take a break until september 2020 when they resumed filming and with extreme precautions most likely past that, slowing filming down.
(4) THEN THE SAG-AFTRA STRIKE RIGHT AFTER S4 DROPS. that would have completely stopped production for months and months and at last season 5 STARTS filming in january 2024. it's the final season and there's a big cast so it took an extra couple months, but it finally wrapped in december.
(5) AND ABOUT FILMING! this is a PACKED cast that are BOOKED AND BUSY. if you think that this was finn's or winona's or millie's only project or THING happening, then you are WRONG. they are busy which makes filming harder.
(6) POST PRODUCTION is DIFFERENT FOR STRANGER THINGS. yeah, many of the shows from 2016 have wrapped by now. they did not break records in Netflix or include a science fiction plot that required lots of CGI, visual effects etc! plus do you THINK netflix is gonna let them slide with a half assed final product? ON THEIR FINAL SEASON TOO?
so yeah. expecting stranger things to pop out woth a new season every year is actually laughable. ESPECIALLY with the conditions the last few seasons have been under.
and this part is important: i think 2 hours is way too long for an episode. i wouldn't mind a season that's fifteen hours if it was split into reasonable episode times but movie length episodes is unreasonable. THAT BEING SAID, IM SICK OF PEOPLE THINKING THAT SHOWS ARE EASY TO PRODUCE.
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kimberbohwrites · 4 months ago
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As promised, the smuttiest chapter I have EVER written. Please enjoy. AKA the much anticipated, "Rolan in Rut" Chapter Hope for the Gate Chapter Three Word Count: 3,328 Rated: Explicit -- MDNI! You have been WARNED. READ ON AO3 (or continued below) <Chapters 1&2 Please don't forget to kudos/comment/like/reblog <3 Rolan x Tav art by @ ORANGEKITTYENERGY on tumblr
Summary: Eight months after the events of 'All I Wanted' (my first Rolan x Tav fic [see series]), Tav and Rolan’s relationship is tested by tragedy and turmoil. There will be drama, romance, political intrigue, action, and of course — smut. Is our favorite tiefling strong enough to handle it all and hold on to the girl? Tags/Warnings: Rolan, Tav. Post-Canon, Fluff and Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Porn with Feelings. Porn With Plot, Tiefling Biology, Tieflings, Rolan in Rut, Anti-Tiefling Racism, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Smut, Breeding Kink, Breeding, Knotting, Penis In Vagina Sex, Masturbation, Scent Kink, Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Sex, Shameless Smut, Creampie, Smutty
If Rolan had felt more himself, he might be embarrassed about how quickly his dignity was left behind. It is as if something breaks in him as the hours crawl toward the time when Tav and him had agreed to meet. It was agonizing. He’d been in rut before, but it had never felt so acute.
Even her scent left behind on his desk fuels the madness. He knows she’s busy getting ready for their unplanned holiday and he knows he mustn’t bother her. But the fever and aches were growing steadily worse with each passing hour. The only balm for him came in the form of his desk. As he resigned himself to finding relief, a hint of too-familiar shame rises in him but was quickly washed away in the tidal wave of need currently housed within him.
It wasn’t something he was proud of, but he’d grown desperate for her.
Resting his head down and his face flat on the desk he took a deep breath of her scent that still lingered on the wood. His cock grew achingly hard but the rest of him felt a sense of relief, like a cool breeze on sun-scorched skin, the pain remains but the relief is welcome. Taking another deep breath, he freed himself from his pants, taking his throbbing length in hand as he closed his eyes and conjured the image of his Tav.
Trying to bite his lips to contain the muffled groans proved of little use, his desperate pants and whines were still audible even with his face against the desk. He felt filthy, face pressed to his desk as he stroked his cock to her scent and his fever-fueled imagination. He wanted to find her right now and take her, against whatever surface of the Tower he found her nearest.
He needed to be inside her, to ruin her, to make her scream his name.
Stroking faster he felt the pressure build, the bulbous knot at the base of his length already forming. Gods he was desperate to knot her. He needed to feel her squeezing against him as he claimed her. His hips began to rut into his hand as he worked himself closer to the edge, wondering how she would feel stuffed with his knot.
His mouth had slackened as he got closer, now drooling onto his desk as he panted and moaned like nothing more than an animal. He needed Tav, alone. He needed to fuck and fill her and claim her as his mate. His imagination flashed with images of her beautiful core dripping with his spend and it propelled him over the edge. He came so hard he felt lucky he was already face down on his desk as his head reeled.
With each pulse of his cock, he let out a whine of relief as he coated the underside of the desk, his hand and his lap.
—*—*——*—*—
Rolan sat up with a start. His head felt fuzzy as he realized that he must have passed out at his desk. It couldn’t have been for too long judging on the state of things. With a mutter he cast a quick spell to clean up the mess around him. As he ran a hand through his sweaty hair, the other dropped into this lap and found himself still quite hard. He let out a groan of frustration. He’d expected the relief of such a carnal act to last longer but he had never experienced a rut so intense.
Quickly fixing his clothes and appearance with another simple spell (though even the little spells seemed to drain him in his current state) he stood from his desk. The effort making him reach out to the smooth surface for support. His head rushed as the room spun around him.
Zurgan, no more magic for right now. He thought to himself.
He needed to reach the portal room up in Ramazith Tower and meet Tav. He could barely hold himself upright in his current state of, desire. And using magic seemed to no longer be an option.
Looking down revealed the additional challenges of his situation. Though his clothes were clean and fresh once more, the obviousness of his arousal was quite clear to anyone who looked upon him.
Panic prickled at his forehead as his heart began to race. He chided himself, he was no better than a horny young man — it was humiliating. He was better than this. As his thoughts began to consume him threatening to take him to a dark place, a small knock sounded at the door.
“Rolan?”
Tav’s voice cut clear through the panic and right to him. Peeking her head in the door with a smile, she let herself the rest of the way in when she noticed him leaning against the desk for support.
“I thought you might not be feeling well.”
She bit her lip nervously as she approached. Rolan fought the urge to throw her down on the desk, rip off her clothes, and bury himself inside her.
“I think that’s a bit of an understatement actually”
He couldn’t help but sound tense when he answered.
“I thought that might be the case. I hope it’s okay, but I packed your things and have them upstairs and ready for you. The shop is closed, can I help you love?”
It came out in the next breath, before he even knew what he was saying.
“Marry me”
He felt his hand go to his mouth, but it was too late, even if he smothered himself right now the words had already escaped. Judging by the look of abject shock on her face, Tav had heard him quite clearly.
“Sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”
He quickly added and he heard Tav let out an uneasy breath.
“That’s okay, I know you’re not yourself right now… I was just surprised is all.”
She put a supportive arm around him as if to lead him upstairs but at her touch he jumped as if struck by lightning. He was barely holding on to the gentleman in him as his rut-addled brain screamed at him to mount her right there.
Her touch felt better than anything he’d felt in his life — so much so that he’d almost finished again on the spot.
“I think it’s best if I follow you”
“Right, sorry”
He could smell her arousal as she moved away from him, and he groaned before he could silence himself. Digging his clawed nails into his palms he said a silent prayer to any deity who might listen that he could just hold on a little longer.
He wanted to be gentle with her, she deserved romance but with each passing moment something wild grew stronger within him.
—*—*——*—*—
It had been a process making it upstairs, he’d needed to walk slowly. A combination of fever and arousal making the environment around him distorted and unfamiliar. Tav had been patient and kind of course, trying to keep ahead but always turning back to wait if he got too far behind. He began to feel uncomfortable in his clothing and not just because of his hardened cock pressed against his pants.
His tail swished behind him trying to keep him balanced as he followed her upstairs.
More than once, he found himself wanting to give up. The feeling of too uncomfortable to move almost overwhelming him, but when he saw Tav ahead he would find another spark of energy to keep moving.
Finally, they reached the upstairs of the tower and the room that used to house Lorroakan’s hideous book throne. He’d been as good as his word and the throne had been disassembled and organized back onto bookshelves first when he’d become Master of the Tower.
Knowledge was not a throne to horde and covet, he thought to himself angrily.
The grand space now served as the main library and the home of the permanent portals he’d been working on since Tav had come to stay. Currently only the portal to her home was functional, though he was almost finished with the one to Waterdeep.
When he crossed the threshold into the room, he found her leaning against a desk. Nearby was stacked luggage for both of them. He was immensely grateful for her, he’d focused so much on making sure the Sundries was ready that he forgotten to pack himself.
However, he was unable to voice any of these thoughts at current, his mind simply latched on to her form on the desk.
It was strange, but he was almost grateful for the crippling fever because he wasn’t able to feel his usual sense of anxiety. In truth, Rolan had panicked the several times he’d accidentally thought about what this experience might be like with Tav. He’d always been sensitive about his more infernal attributes even though she’d shown time and time again that she loved each part of him.
Some small part of him still believed it was a trick. Being reduced before her to his most base and primal instincts was something that had long worried him, but now that it was happening, he couldn’t be bothered to care.
The only thing he could feel was need. He couldn’t wait any longer. Not when she was a few steps away, so beautiful and all his. His intentions must have been clear on his face because she turned to him with a coy smile.
“Rolan, we’re almost there”
While his mind attempted to clear the dirty thoughts and take control once more, his body takes a step toward her as if acting on its own. Almost like he’s being pulled toward her by an outside force and that he can no longer resist. Truthfully, he doesn’t want to resist it. Tav makes no attempt to move away, looking up at him as he moved closer with her big beautiful green eyes. Her chest rises and falls gracefully with anticipation. Rolan forgets to breathe when his eyes meet hers.
The last shred of his control is ripped away when she nervously bites her bottom lip again. He’s on her in an instant, his tail coiling around her back to pull her in even though there is no closeness that will be close enough ease the way he burns for her.
“Need you, please”
His words are moaned into her lips between hot, desperate kisses that begin to drag south down her jaw.
“Rolan”
“Please, let me have you, I’ll try to be gentle”
He whines the request as he sucks and licks at the spot where her shoulder and neck meet, feeling elated as her body shivers against his.
“Yes, gods Rolan, yes”
Tav pulls him back to her lips and kisses him hard. His hands reach out to hastily strip her of her clothing. Their kisses turn frantic, teeth and lips against one another as he finally divests them both of their clothes. Certain he’d probably tore his own robe a little in his rush but too desperate to care, he kicks the last of it away.
He pushes gently to lay back on the table, uncaring for the bottles and potion equipment rattling around as he positioned her perfectly and dropped to his knees. His tail latched around one of her ankles as his hands spread her dripping cunt open before him, his body now driven near-feral at the smell of her need.
His tongue is inside her pushing as deep into her and licking against the sweet spot inside her like candy. Her screams and squeals of excitement, her taste, has his cock dripping onto the floor beneath him. With a groan he realizes that before too long the knot at his base will swell. He needs to be inside her before that happens, but he is unwilling to take her without the proper preparation.
Excited at a challenge, he decides to finish her and quickly. Flattening his tongue out inside her to press against her walls, he traces the pads of his point and middle finger over her clit. He carefully avoids his claws in that sensitive area with what little thoughts his brain is still capable of making. The effect is immediate as her abs tense, her thighs tremble and he is just able to push her to her bliss before she bucks out of his grasp completely.
 When she finishes on his tongue and face it’s his name on her lips, screamed until she runs out of air and gasps for breath.
Her taste satisfies the itch and the fever somewhat, but it’s not enough. He barely waits for her to recover, now wild with lust he stands and flips her over on the table. Tav is now chest down on the surface, holding herself up by her tiptoes as she is bent over by him. Bottles tip and clatter to the floor, the sounds of breaking glass barely permeate his brain as her dripping cunt is exposed to him.
“Please Rolan, please”
She begs and mewls softly at him as he leaves wet kisses down her spine, tracing his tongue every few inches against the hot skin.
“Since you asked so nicely”
He groans it out as he straightens and grips his cock, running it up and down her dripping center to coat himself with her slick. 
“Tav… are you sure? This might… hurt or you could get… get pregnant”
He whispers and whimpers his concerns as he readies himself. Desperate as he is to be inside her, he needs to be sure that she wants this… wants him.
She turns her head slightly to see him from her periphery though she’s still bent over the table.
“Rolan…  I want you”
He can tell just from the glint of her green eyes that she has more to say but the moment is wrong. As much as he’d hang on her every word, he is grateful as he pushes into her with a desperate whine.
“Tav… fuck… You feel…”
The sentence goes unfinished as control slips from his grasp. His hips rut wildly against her backside as he bottoms out in her. The slight swelling at the base of his cock already has her squirming and his tail coils around one of her legs to keep her steady.
His clawed fingertips lightly mar the smooth surface of her skin as he clutches her hips and pulls her back onto his cock with each thrust. At first he’s not even aware of the stream of filth leaving his mouth until he feels Tav clench harder around his cock as his words grow obscener.
“Fuck, you feel so good around my cock. Going to knot you and stuff you and fill you.” He groans and another whine follows on its heels as his thrusts grow more desperate, “breed you all night and put a baby in you.”
She clenches and cums, squeezing him like a vice as she squirts and drenches him. His thrusts grow faster, harder at the feeling as he fucks her through her orgasm.
Her hands shoot out to grab the table edges for support, sending more supplies and glass crashing to the ground. It goes unnoticed as she gasps and chants his name like a prayer. When she feels his growing knot begin to slow his movements, she is only able to scream as her eyes roll back into her head and she finishes on his cock for a second time.
He’s so close now, desperate for release his thrusts growing shallower as his knot begins to hold him inside her.
“Mine, mine, mine, mine”
He’s unaware of how he chants the word with each shallow, desperate stroke inside her. Tears form in his eyes at the sensation, how she squeezes his fat knot as he frantically grinds into her. Her free leg, the one his tail isn’t wrapped around, kicks out and her toes curl. Though he’s barely aware, Rolan is grateful Tav is enjoying herself as well.
When he cums, its with a shout and a gasp as he unleashes pulse after pulse inside of her. Tears run down his face, whining at how good it feels, the relief of mating almost immediate. The sensations push Tav over the edge with his a final time as she barks out his name.
“Rolan, fuck!”
He rests his sweaty head against her back and kisses her skin softly a contrast to the brutal fucking he’d just given her. She murmurs in gratitude. His body lurches and shakes as his cock throbs within her, still releasing pulses of spend deep within her.
“How long are we…”
“It should go down within the half hour, but I can’t be sure I’ve never done this with anyone… never felt like this before.”
“I love you too, Rolan”
“You should rest”
“Gonna close my eyes”
She whispers already sound sleepy and he can hear her start to drift off, exhausted from the day of packing and helping him. His heart lurches in his chest as he gently leaves more kisses on her back, softly rubbing her shoulders to soothe her as she slipped off.
“I love you more, Tav”
He whispers it to her, unsure if she’s still awake enough to be able to remember he’s said it when she wakes. That’s okay because he plans to tell her a hundred times when she wakes again and a hundred more after that.
As the fever clears, the short window of relief allowing his other senses to function he takes stock of the room around him. Broken glass and scattered potion reagents clutter the floor around them, he knows he should feel bad about the mess he’s made.
Instead, when he sees Tav beneath him his heart swells, the situation they find themselves in is overtly sexual but all he and think of is how much he loves the freshly fucked woman currently asleep on the table. He’s glad she’s resting; he intends to spend the days that follow making her scream his name until her voice gives out.
But he’s also grateful she can’t see the tears that run down his face as he worships her sleeping form, gently stroking her skin and leaving light kisses in the wake of his fingertips. This woman, this beautiful, fearless, frustrating woman had become the most important thing in his life so quickly. It scared him sometimes.
—*—*——*—*—
Downstairs many floors and streets away, and blissfully unaware Cal strode toward the Tower after visiting Lia at the Forge of the Nine. As he rounded the corner he collided with a small figure, sending them sprawling onto the cobblestones.
“I’m SO sorry! I need to pay more attention!” He began to stutter out as he lurched forward to help the figure from the ground.
“Oh, clumsy me — I didn’t see you there”
As Cal reached out to take their hand and stand them up he gasped in surprise.
“Wait, you’re…”
“Fancy bumping into you here!” The monk that Cal had met that very morning said with a smile. The half-elf woman was breathtaking, soft, sweet, and almost delicate looking.
“How…”
Cal gaped as he aided the beautiful woman to her feet.
“My name is Venetia”
“…Cal! My name is Cal!” He awkwardly laughed out as remembered his name at the last second.
“Where were you headed Cal?”
Her voice sounded so sweet and when Cal looked in her eyes, her eyelashes fluttered hypnotically. He swooned at the sight; smitten the instant they’d made eye contact.
“Home”
He pointed to the looming Tower on the skyline. Venetia’s eyes seemed to light up, Cal’s heart raced at the sight.
“Can I walk with you?”
She asked it so nervously, so sweet and shy that Cal immediately said yes without further consideration.
“Of course!”
She fell in beside him, pressing close as they turned toward the Tower and fell into easy conversation.
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fangirl-writes · 4 months ago
Text
Payback
John B. Routledge x Reader; Ex!Topper Thornton x Reader
Warning(s): Cheating, swearing, making out
1k words (she's a shortie)
Request: I was wondering if you could write something where you are dating topper and in the episode Where John b finds out that Sarah cheated on John b with topper, you find out that topper cheated on you with Sarah even though topper said that he was not into Sarah anymore that he had gotten over her and all that so after John B and JJ leaves the whole little party thing John B. find you at the beach crying he’s wondering who is the beautiful girl on the beach crying for, he asks you why you’re crying you tell him what happened and then he’s like well what if we get back at them and after you and John b get back at them they find out and they're pissed you can fill in the blanks with whatever🤷🏾‍♀️
Notes: I hated the cheating plot in season 3. And like they move passed it so quickly! And they just get back together in the end! OBX write not-toxic couples challenge.
Also, I didn't write in the part where Sarah and Topper find out because it would've gotten a lot more complicated based on where I stuck this in the plot and I didn't want to do that, but I hope you like regardless!
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This was an anger John B. had never felt before.
Getting cheated on sucked.
And by someone who was supposed to be the love of his life. His fucking wife. While he had a shotgun to his head, she was hooking up with Topper.
He knows he hasn't exactly been honest with her, but he'd never-
John B. wanted to punch something.
His life was falling apart around him. He was lying to his friends, distrusting his dad.
In some twisted way, he'd had everything on that deserted island. And now he was back to nothing to lose.
Which was maybe why he punched Topper, despite Sarah's shouts and protests. And he didn't regret it. Not a bit.
Especially when you came along.
You were just as hurt as he was. And you'd be lying if you said seeing the blood pour out of Topper's nose didn't offer you some solace.
He was done with her, over her, that's what'd he'd said. You should've known better. Should've gone to that stupid beach party that all the kooks were going to.
But you didn't think there was even a possibility of this. You thought Sarah was completely caught up with John B. You had no reason to think otherwise.
So, you sank yourself onto the beach and cried.
That's where John B. found you.
"Y/N?"
Your head snapped up from where it had been buried in your knees to find him standing by you.
He had on a pair of fresh clothes since the night before, the usual bandana around his neck and puffy eyes that told you he'd also been crying at some point.
He looked handsome despite it, though, whereas you must've looked a mess.
"Are you okay?"
You gave a watery laugh. "No. I don't know how I could be right now, after your girlfriend hooked up with my boyfriend- ex-boyfriend."
"Ex-girlfriend," John B. clarified, dropping himself on the sand next to you.
The sun was rising over the horizon and the weight of exhaustion was starting to get to you. You hadn't slept a wink.
"It sucks, doesn't it?" He said.
"Yeah. It sucks a lot," you replied, wiping the tears off your face.
The silence hung in the air between you, the sounds of the waves crashing against the shore and the seagulls squawking. It was beautiful peace in contrast to the chaos in your head.
“You wanna get them back?”
You turned to John B., a little taken aback. “You mean, like...kiss?”
He laughed a little. “Well, I was thinking a bit more than that, but, sure, we can start there.”
"I don't know..."
John B. nodded, returning his gaze on the ocean.
“If you don’t want to that’s obviously fine,” he said. “Just- thought it’d be fair, you know?”
You looked away from him, staring at your feet.
You were already hurt, deeply, and so was he. All it would do was make things more complicated.
If you got attached, like you so often did, what would you do then?
He must've still loved Sarah and you still had feelings for Topper, however skewed they were now.
But you couldn't help but think he was right.
It would be fair and to say you didn’t want to would be a lie. To say you hadn’t noticed how handsome he was or wondered what it would be like...
“Okay.”
John B. looked at you, slightly surprised, but smiled softly. “Okay.”
You heart started beating faster as he raised his hand to brush it against your cheek, his pretty brown eyes looking into yours.
He'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought about it either. You were very pretty, someone he always felt was out of reach, until now.
And he knew this was stupid, but he didn't care.
You were too nervous to make the first move and he knew that, so, before you could come to your senses and back out, he pressed his lips to yours.
You nearly gasped at the feeling, at the force he kissed with, the emotion he poured into every move he made. You could almost taste the grief and desperation on his lips.
You have it back the best you could. Pouring all your feelings into the kiss.
He hummed, moving closer to you and tilting his head to deepen the kiss.
You hummed back, slackening your jaw a little to allow his tongue to slide into your mouth.
The butterflies in your stomach were going crazy. Your hands slid their way up his arms, moving over the curves of his muscles and stilling at his shoulder; fingers curling and scratching his skin lightly.
His hands moved from your face to your hips and he pulled you into his lap, making you gasp.
He chuckled, smiling and pressing his forehead against yours.
You smiled back, laughing in return.
Something about it was so light, silly, almost.
Kissing John B. wasn't a declaration of love. It was something that didn’t hold as much weight as when you kissed Topper or John B. kissed Sarah.
It was different.
Was it better?
John B. was determined to find out, so he leaned in to kiss you again and you allowed him to.
He was intoxicating, you couldn’t get enough of him. He threw a blanket over the chaos in your mind so that the only thing left was the feeling of his lips on yours, his hands loose around your waist.
He wanted to go farther, you could feel it, but you pulled back.
"I'm sorry," you said, moving your hands to cup his face. "I-I can't-"
"It's okay," he whispered, breathily. "That was- I-"
He was looking at you so intensely, a look in his eyes you couldn't figure out. It made your stomach flip.
"Thank you," he said.
You couldn't help the laugh through your nose, your head dipping to press against his shoulder, arms moving to lay around his neck. "No problem."
Neither of you moved. Content to just stay there together for a little while longer.
But the day was quickly moving and John B. still had to get his father back.
"Hey, I, uh, I gotta go," he said, moving and you got off of him. "But, um, thank you, again, and, maybe, when I get back, we can...meet up?"
You smiled at him, pulling your knees to your chest as he stood up. "You going somewhere, outlaw?"
He smiled back. "Hey, cleared on all charges remember?"
"Something tells me you're not about to be rubbing elbows with Shoupe anytime soon."
He laughed. "You might be right there."
"What're you up to this time?"
"Something I can't get you involved in," he said. "I've gotten too many people in trouble lately. But, seriously, after?"
You stand up then and kiss him on the cheek. "After."
"Okay." He starts to back up, wanting to look at you a little bit longer, then trips over a root, which makes you laugh.
"Careful, cowboy."
He blushed, finally turning away from you and running off.
"After," he repeated to himself. He was just going to get his dad, find the gold, and then come back for you.
His heart swelled.
For the first time in a while, he had something to come back for.
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