#But he can't. Because he's not supposed to be here. Everything is calm and soft and everyone is happy

[winters8child]

It´s been a long, long time

Chapter 90

My hands trembled as I stared at the positive pregnancy test in my hand, unable to pull my gaze from the reflection in the mirror. I could hear Steve pacing on the other side of the door, his footsteps like a metronome ticking down the seconds of uncertainty. Sam had quietly excused himself, leaving to sit by the lake, giving us space for this moment.

"Sweetheart, everything okay in there? It’s been a while," Steve's voice, filled with concern, broke the silence.

I had been frozen in place for what felt like hours, hoping—irrationally—that the result might change if I just waited long enough. But it wouldn't. I knew that. And the moment I stepped out of this bathroom, it would all become real.

Steve would be ecstatic, overjoyed in a way that made my heart ache. But as for me... I wasn’t ready to feel that same joy. I was scared—worried about everything that could go wrong, and whether we were ready for this.

I took one last deep breath, trying to steady myself for Steve's reaction, and stepped out of the bathroom, the pregnancy test clutched in my hand. With an uneasy smile, I held it up, my voice trembling as I said, "It’s positive. I’m pregnant."

Steve’s eyes immediately lit up with joy, a glimmer of tears forming, though he tried to remain composed for my sake. He gently took the test from my hand, looking at it with a soft, solemn smile. "Ok," he said, his voice calm and measured. "Maybe we should get a few more tests, just to be sure." His hand found my arm, rubbing it in soothing circles, offering comfort even though I could see the excitement barely contained behind his eyes.

Steve sat me down at the kitchen table, his gaze fixed on mine, his brow furrowed with concern. "So, what do we do now?" he asked softly, the weight of the moment settling in.

I stared down at my hands, unable to form a coherent thought as memories of my first pregnancy came rushing back—the one I hadn’t even known about until it was too late. The fear, the grief. My heart pounded in my chest as I struggled to find the words.

"What if I can't have a baby?" I whispered, my voice barely audible. "What if the serum in me... what if it doesn’t survive?" My throat tightened as the words tumbled out, my voice shaking with uncertainty.

Steve reached over, gently holding my trembling hand. "But that was because of the procedure, not the serum," he said softly, his thumb brushing over my knuckles in a soothing motion.

I looked up at him, my eyes filled with doubt and fear. "We don’t know that, Steve. If that happens again..." My voice broke, tears welling up as I struggled to hold it together. "I don’t know if I can take it. Not again." A tear slid down my cheek, the weight of the past and the uncertainty of the future overwhelming me.

Steve moved closer, wrapping his arms around me, his embrace warm and protective. "I know you're scared," he whispered into my hair, his voice gentle. "But you're not alone in this. We’ll get through it—whatever happens. And I’ll be right here, every step of the way."

I pulled away slightly, searching his eyes for any hint of doubt. "But Steve," I whispered, my voice trembling, "I can’t even go to a doctor. And how are we supposed to raise a child while we’re on the run?"

His face softened, and he reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "We’ll figure it out," he said calmly. "We can find a discreet doctor. If not in this town, then maybe in the next one over. There’s always a way." I leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his embrace as a heavy sigh escaped my lips. "I'm so scared, Steve. I can't even feel happy, and I hate it," I admitted, my voice trembling as I clung to him.

He tightened his arms around me, his hand gently stroking my back. "I know," he whispered softly, pressing a tender kiss to the top of my head. "But we’re in this together. You’re not alone."

His words were a small comfort, but the fear still lingered, gnawing at the edges of my thoughts.

Later that evening, we sat Sam down to break the news. There wasn’t much point in hiding it from him—he had been the one to get me the test, after all. He smiled and congratulated us, but I could see the unease in his eyes. The reality of what this meant for our future hung over us all, even as we tried to focus on the joy of the moment.

The next day, Sam brought back a few more pregnancy tests, just to be sure. Each one came out positive. I couldn’t shake the constant nausea, barely able to keep food down, but strangely, it reassured me. As long as I felt sick, I told myself the baby was still there.

Steve doted on me in every possible way. He wouldn’t let me lift a finger, always asking if I was okay or if I needed anything. His attentiveness was endearing, even though it sometimes felt overwhelming. He had already started reading books on parenting, which was sweet, but I wasn’t ready to think that far ahead. The idea of motherhood seemed so distant, even with everything happening. I was still struggling to wrap my head around the present, let alone the future.

In my darkest moments, my mind would drift back to the child I lost, the baby who never had a chance at life. The grief would hit me like a wave, and I’d find myself crying uncontrollably, guilt and sorrow from years ago crashing down all over again. I thought of Bucky, of the love and pain intertwined with his memory, the feelings I had buried deep inside my heart. They were always there, hidden but never truly forgotten, and now they resurfaced with a vengeance, making everything feel even more complicated.

Sam had asked the doctor at the local clinic if he could bring his "wife" in for a pregnancy check-up. It was easier to pretend I was Sam's reclusive spouse who preferred staying in the cabin. People in town were already gossiping about the mysterious man who appeared once a week for supplies and then disappeared again. Introducing Steve into the equation would only add fuel to the fire and make things even more suspicious. So, we kept it simple, even if it meant living under yet another layer of secrecy.

The doctor prescribed me vitamins and scheduled another check-up in a month. We paid in cash, and he didn’t ask any questions beyond our names. We were now known in the clinic's records as Jane and Laurence, the newlywed couple.

Sleeping became increasingly difficult. Though I wasn’t far along, I found myself tossing and turning every night, struggling to find a comfortable position. I’d wake Steve with my restless movements, and each time, he’d pull me close, gently caressing my still-flat stomach. In the middle of the night, he’d make me tea or even cook entire meals, only for me to throw them up again. His patience and care were unwavering, even as my condition took its toll on both of us.

He would whisper sweet nothings into my ear and shower me with kisses, even managing to make me giggle amid all the turmoil. A tiny flicker of hope began to stir in my chest, like a flower daring to bloom after a harsh winter.

But nothing in this life was fair; no happiness seemed to last forever. All hope was shattered when Hydra burst through our bedroom door in the middle of the night, coming for me and my baby.

Next Chapter

[kelpiemomma]

"So this "alternate me"..." Khan looked up at the question, setting his gaze on the New Ingo who was speaking. It was still surreal to see him and see him so lean, standing tall, the only exhaustion in his expression being that from a long day of work. He was not wary like Khan's Ingo, not scarred and constantly alert to his surroundings. "What was he like?"

Khan looked away, silent. Memories of his Ingo played through his mind. The cocky smirk when he'd win a battle against Khan, the rage he'd displayed at any injustice against Akari, the care he'd always shown to his Noble and his team, the proud expression when he'd successfully gotten a pun past Khan and Akari, how he'd sleep tense and curled up if Akari was gone, but how he'd splay out with ease when she was home... Years of memories, of getting to know him, learning what made Ingo tick. What made him Warden Ingo. What made him a father. Khan had seen almost every expression his companion had had to offer.

And now he'd never see them again.

He turned his head away from the stranger wearing his friend's face. He didn't want to look at a ghost any longer.

"He was my family." Khan finally said, voice soft and thick with emotion.

[mehiwilldoitlater]

When you were taken by your original world and sent into some kind of ancient China, full of demons and monsters, you weren't exactly sure why you were supposed to assist the "Destined one." Damn, you didn't even know how this.

When you find out that this destiny one was some kind of successor of Sun Wukong, saying that you were surprised was a joke.

His eyes scrutinized you; they were dark with a tint of gold when the light stricked them. He silently circled you, creating some distance between you, himself, and the other monkeys, curious about the mortals that presented themselves on their mountain.

Every time you tried to keep some distance, he was ready to close it enough to never leave his sight. What a strange situation, and what strange creature was sent to him just at the dawn of his journey.

The stories portrayed Wukong, as the name says, as a monkey kind of guy: cheerful, ready to make some jokes, who liked to make fun of people and laugh. And yet, the destined one was nothing like this trope.

He was composed, serious, and always straight forward. It was like he decided to expel every fun side from him in order to fulfill his duty.

Despite that, he showed more side to you: he was caring, trying to understand your confusion and fear while in a new world, always remembering to keep your peace while walking to make sure that you didn't get lost around. He was your protector, always ready to strike at every danger, and a good friend in the moment of agony.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't cry for these things, but... I'm sorry, so sorry."

You missed home. You never could believe yourself, but you missed your monothone and unsavory life. You missed waking up, going to walk, listening to endless hours of your boss rumbling—you missed even the crappy food of the cafeteria!

Everything seems so far away, without hope of reaching it. And you felt like trash because he was the one that was there to listen. You felt ashame, ashame of the fact that you were there complaining about what you lost while he was there fighting for both of you. You tried to cover your eyes, holding your breath to calm down, but nothing worked at all.

A stream of tears keeps on crashing down, hiccups escaping your lungs without stop.

Then, you felt his arms—two pairs of strong and soft arms, protecting your now vulnerable state from everything and everyone. His tail followed his gesture, keeping you in place and warm—so warm.

"Please." His high peech voice is now reduced to a whisper. "Don't hold it. Don't hold the pain. I can't see you like this. Please, whatever cloud your heart, speak to me."

Soon, you both became inseparable. You followed him like a shadow, carrying pills and balms, making plans with him for your next move. Damn, even Bajie couldn't believe his eyes when he saw you behind the monkey, a little afraid of the newcomer of the group.

You weren't anymore just some random mortal the Destined one had found and kept at his tail; now you were the Destined done caompanion and trusted friend. His journey became your journey, and his task your task. You both became bound by a silent vow.

"Say...why don't you choose a name? A real one this time."

"I never thought about it." He started to play with a leaf fallen from the nearby tree, thinking about your new idea.

You reached his side, holding his hand in yours, caressing the black claws on it. Once those scared you, now you wonder if a nice manicure could make them look prettier than now.

"Well, you can't let me call you Destined One or Monkey forever! You need a proper name! Something nice! ...umm...how about... Yuánfèn?"

"Um? Since when can you name people here?"

"Well," you continued, "it's destiny in Chinese, no? Like..fate!"

He looked at you, then laughed between his teeth a little. "There's no difference in how they usually call me then!"

"Yes, but...this is how I call you! So is different!"

Soon, you start to not miss home that much. You start to hope to be closer to him—to not go back. You hope that, after your honeymoon, you can stay together and that, despite all, there can be a happy ending for both of you. And silently, in his head, he hoped that too.

"May i?"

He gave you his silent consent, allowing you to caress his cheek with your so small fingers. Your lips met his own, your gesture so timid and gentle that you ask yourself if it's still a small image in your mind instead of something that you're actually doing now. He hasn't moved an inch; confusion starts to come to him and yourself, to the point that you need to stop. Now you just feel ashamed; you felt that you crossed a line, and now you don't even know if you can even go back.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

A small shush from him, his finger holding your chin and guiding you against him. This time, he's trying to mimic your gesture, a blush forming from his face to the visible part of his ears. His kiss is trembling but fierce. He waited long enough to see your still puzzled face.

"I...may don't get how you did it...Can you show me...again, please?"

You don't need to let him ask again; soon your lips smash together again, showing him exactly what's happening.

Your fate is sealed with that kiss, and there's no force on heaven and earth to undo it.

@sun-jglim

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 WASTELAND, BABY (I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU)

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: at the beach house, you can pretend that nothing is wrong. you know that avoidance will only get you so far, but you can't help but want to treasure the time you have with dazai... you don't know how much longer you'll have before everything catches up to you. until then, you'll enjoy the peace that you have, even if dazai does seem oddly intent on ruining it.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: another week of minimal activity </3 sorry lil love bugs ive been so busy. BUT take civzai6!! and treasure it because this is the only chill chapter for quite a bit!! HAHAHHH no but for real i enjoyed this chapter so much that i literally had to split it in two because i wrote too much HAHAH, same goes for the next chapter ;) as always, reblogs are very appreciated!

GENERAL WARNINGS: fem!reader, port mafia executive!reader, civilian!dazai, dazai's struggles w suicide & sh, reader partakes in mafia business, dazai isn't dazai without a bit of obsessiveness and possessiveness (the possessiveness doesn't come til later but the obsessiveness starts from day 0).

IMPORTANT NOTE FOR 17 & UNDER FOLLOWING THE SERIES: partially copy and pasted from the other series - if you guys read waterloo, you know the deal. y'all knew what you were getting into. this is the smut chapter. but again, i'm not going to ask y'all to not interact/read a whole chapter just because there's 2-3k words of smut, but i am going to say here the smut is in the FINAL scene. there is very little plot development in the smut itself, so i ask you guys, again, to respectfully scroll past it. i'll make the sentence when the smut starts red like this so you know that's when it starts, and then you can continue reading at the next divider. thank you for understanding! there is NO plot development in the smut, i'll reiterate that at the end where i put the summary in waterloo, i restructured to make sure none of it was in it.

CHAPTER SPECIFIC WARNINGS: hardly edited - i've been busy. dazai has some insecure thoughts. he's also actively being self destructive. this is an easy chapter—calm before the storm. not much to warn. i don't think i'm missing anything but pls lmk if i am, i didn't have time to reread

SMUT WARNINGS: unprotected sex, praise, dazai cries a bit, lil bit of body worship (f->m), sub!dazai, mostly pretty vanilla - short and sweet

SEE: WASTELAND, BABY! SERIES MASTERLIST

Dazai wakes up to the sun peeking through the blinds of the bedroom he’d shared with you and the scent of pancakes wafting through the air. His lips twitch up into a small smile as he stretches, letting out a soft sigh as he sinks into the comfortable mattress. 

He thinks he slept better last night than he’s slept in his entire life. He’s always been plagued with restlessness, he can hardly ever sleep and when he does, he’s haunted by faces he’d rather not see again: Oda’s bloodstained face looking up at him as he dies in Dazai’s arms, the glassy eyes of his mother as she swings slowly from a rope, his aunt’s twisted expression as she throws Dazai to the ground in Suribachi, the hurt look in Ango’s eyes as he took all of the vile insults that Dazai spat at him. Dazai dreads sleeping about as much as the average person dreads ever having to confront their worst fear.

But last night? Last night, Dazai slept peacefully. He fell asleep curled up in your arms, laying on top of you—you’d still been awake, tracing patterns on his back through his shirt. You’d been distracted by something all day yesterday; from when you picked him up at the hospital to when you laid down with him in bed that night, something had been bothering you. Your phone had been buzzing nonstop, call after call and text after text—you didn’t bother checking it but he could tell it was stressing you out.

He tried to ask you about it but you blew it off every time. Dazai supposes he should have expected that from you but your evasion was still irritating, especially after the conversation the two of you had yesterday. You had the nerve to try to distract him with movies and figuring out how to bake a cake with him; he had the nerve to fall for the weak attempts at distracting him.

He yawns as he pushes himself to a sitting position, rubbing at his eyes and tossing the blankets off. He tugs at the short sleeves of his t-shirt, feeling a bit too exposed. The bandages covering his wrists and arms are frayed—he’ll need to grab new ones to rewrap them soon, he hasn’t checked the bathroom to see if you had any stored. His shoulders ache a bit, he winces as he rolls them before making his way out of the bedroom and down the hall to the kitchen.

You’re standing at the stove, hand on your hip as you frown down at whatever you’re cooking. You’re still dressed in your pajamas—a thin black cami and loose shorts—and Dazai yearns, he feels it deep in his chest, feels it as a lump in his throat and a heaviness in his stomach. Because he could… he could picture it… he could picture a future with you.

He could imagine waking up to you every day—you’d always wake up before him because you somehow always wake up at the ass crack of dawn. You’d usually be dealing with some of your shady business when he wakes up, sitting at the kitchen table typing away at your phone, maybe you’d sometimes be on calls and you’d lift a finger to your lips to hush him when you realize he wakes up. Every once in a while, he’d wake up to you making breakfast for him—you told him that you enjoy cooking when you have the time for it, so Dazai imagines that it would be a rare treat.

Like today.

But still, he can’t help but wonder why today? Your phone had been blowing up last night and now… now, it’s sitting on the marble counter, screen dark and not buzzing at all. He glances up at you once to make sure you’re still looking at the stove and then shifts over to the counter quietly, discreetly pressing his finger against the screen to see if your phone is even on and then frowns when he realizes that you did, in fact, turn it off.

What is going on that has you so avoidant that you’d rather turn your phone off than confront it? His mind races to all of the things you’ve been bitching to him about, remembers that you told him you weren’t responding for days because you’d been busy finishing up negotiations with the Shimazaki-kai… is it something new, maybe? But why aren’t you handling it then? It doesn’t make any sense.

Dazai makes his way over to you, feet padding softly against the ground until he’s standing behind you. He slips his arms around your waist and plops his chin onto your shoulder, humming softly as he nudges his nose against your ear before resting the side of his head against yours.

“Good morning,” he says, voice still a bit rough with sleep. “Whatcha making?”

“Pancakes,” you reply easily and Dazai’s heart swells when you lean back into his chest, fueling the fantasy of his imagined future even more. God, he’s been waiting for the ball to drop since you talked to him out on the cliff’s edge—you can’t keep giving him hope like this, he can feel it blooming in his chest and he knows that there’s going to be something to ruin it because that’s just how his life goes but… “I don’t think they came out good though.”

“I’ll eat them anyway,” Dazai says immediately.

“You’ll probably get food poisoning.”

“I don’t care.”

“I do.”

You do.

Two words, so simple and yet they ring through his head over and over again so loudly. You care. You do care. You implied it last night when you told him you wanted him, that it scares you how bad you want him because of his life being at risk, but you hadn’t out right said it until now and it’s a devastating blow. Fatal, really.

The puff of air he lets out is shaky and when you turn to look at him, confused, he can only barely muster a smile as he asks hesitantly, “You do?”

The last time he asked you this, you changed the subject and evaded answering—he took it as an answer in itself, that you don’t care… but now, he’s let himself hope again, hope that maybe this time your answer will be different. What a treacherous thing, really, because even now he can feel the dark claws of anxiety start tugging at his heart in different directions, yanking it around and stretching it until it’s painful. He thinks it would’ve just been easier to carve it out and hand it over to you.

“I do,” you finally say, voice quiet. “I care.”

Dazai lets out a long breath, one that he hardly recognized he was holding, dropping his forehead down on your shoulder to hide his face against your skin. His arms tighten around your waist as his lips curve up, he presses his lips to your neck but for some reason, he can’t fully discard the dreadful feeling in his chest.

Even with your assurances and finally verbally admitting that you care about him, it’s like he’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for something to shatter his idyllic paradise. And he has a feeling he knows exactly what will do it. So because Dazai is Dazai and he has been self-destructive since the day he was born, he brings it up.

“Why’s your phone been blowing up?” he asks, keeping his voice deceptively light like he’s just trying to have a normal conversation with you—you don’t fall for it. When you immediately stiffen in his arms, Dazai almost wants to backtrack.

“Nothing important,” you say, voice tight, forcing a smile onto your face as you step away to look up at him. “Nothing to worry about. Want to help me remake the pancakes?”

You use the same tactic Dazai used on you after Nakahara Chuuya showed up at your apartment. You’re good too because even though Dazai knows what you’re doing, he still wants to give in. Wants to play domestic with you, make breakfast together and then sit at the table and eat. But he can’t, so while you’re good at using the same tactic that Dazai used against you, you’re ultimately unsuccessful because he doesn’t show you the same grace that you showed him.

“Tell me anyway?” Dazai asks softly. “Even if it’s not important?”

You stare at Dazai for a moment, your lips pressed together and he could imagine the thoughts running through your head—how he’s never satisfied, and how he always has to push you. He can imagine you voicing it again, telling him how it’s always what he wants, but you don’t.

Instead, you shake your head. “I don’t want to talk about it, it’s stressing me out. I would rather just make breakfast with you,” you say. 

Your voice becomes a bit more tense and Dazai knows that he should stop pushing, that it would be smart to stop now, but Dazai’s track record for dumb decisions gets longer instead.

“Maybe I can help,” he prods, taking a step closer to you, reaching out to rest his hands faintly on your hips. He nudges his head forward, pushing his nose against yours before smiling softly and pressing his lips to yours. “Tell me, please.”

Let me in.

Dazai’s eyes are big and earnest as he stares down at you, fingers digging just the slightest bit further into your hips. Your expression is unrelenting, much to his distress.

“It’s mafia business,” you finally say.

“You’ve told me about mafia business before.”

You exhale sharply, brushing his hands off of you and taking a step away, and Dazai knows he’s pressing too much—doesn’t even know why he’s pressing because he knows that it’ll shatter the illusion of peace that the past half a day in the beach house has given him. 

Maybe that’s what he wants, for it to be ruined before he can get used to it.

You look out the window and don’t speak for a moment. Dazai itches to move closer to you again but his feet are rooted to the ground. Finally, you let out a heavy sigh and let your head fall forward a bit, shaking it as you turn back around to face him.

“Another organization has arrived in Yokohama,” you say, lifting your eyes to meet his. “A dangerous one. The Port Mafia… the executives are meeting to figure out how to handle the situation.”

Dazai stares at you for a moment. “You’re an executive.”

“I am.”

“You’re here.”

“I am.”

“But… why?” Dazai asks, voice hitching at the implications of it, not wanting to get his hopes up but unable to stop himself from it at the same time. “Why are you here?”

You stare at him silently for a moment and then you say quietly, “The call for the meeting came at the same time I got the voicemail from the hospital. I chose to go to you.”

Dazai’s breath catches as he breathes in and shakes terribly as he breathes out, unable to draw his gaze away from you. You… “You chose me,” he whispers.

“I chose you,” you repeat, swallowing as you turn your gaze down. “I did. I chose you.”

“Do you regret it?” Dazai asks softly—he wonders if he hopes you’ll say yes, that you’ll quash his hope before it’s too late.

“No,” you say. “I don’t.”

And Dazai doesn’t know how to respond to that. He’s never been wanted before. Never been someone’s first choice. Dazai has always been the one left behind for others, discarded for a better option. His throat is uncomfortably tight and his fingers are shaking a bit, and he doesn’t have pockets to hide them in now so they’re in full view of your vision before he clasps his hands behind his back.

But it’s too late—you’ve already seen it and you’re taking a step closer to him. You reach out to cup his cheek with one of your hands and Dazai’s eyes flutter shut as he leans into your touch.

“I don’t regret anything about you, Dazai Osamu,” you say quietly, so honestly that it makes a shiver run down Dazai’s spine, unintentionally letting out a soft noise in the back of his throat that he’s unable to smother. “Not a single thing.”

“Well, that can’t possibly be true,” Dazai tries to joke, to play off how much you’ve rattled him with only a few words, but you aren’t fooled by his tricks.

“It’s true.”

Dazai stares at you, his eyes sting and his fingers are shaking even more than they’d been before. The pads of your fingers burn against his cheek and Dazai thinks you’ve ruined him. You’ve ruined him entirely. You’ve shattered all of his carefully crafted walls, the ones that protect him from situations just like this, the ones that prevent him from being burned just like he has countless times before. You’ve ruined him and Dazai doesn’t think he’ll be able to put himself together again if this ends poorly.

He doesn’t know what to say in response to your words and he can’t handle the way you’re staring at him so intensely, so Dazai decides to change the subject with a shaky smile and a terrifying amount of hope blooming within him.

“Maybe you just need a fresh set of eyes. Tell me about this organization, I can try to help.”

You don’t even know why you’re considering this. 

Dazai bounds next to you in the sand chatting about his poetry workship. He still won’t tell you what the project he’s writing on is about but he does seem to be mighty pleased with how it’s coming out since he’s bragging about how his is clearly the best of all of his classmates’ and that he’s sure he’s going to get the best grade on it. It’s cute, you think, a fond smile twitching to the corner of your lips as you watch him from the corner of your eye.

It’s still only mid-morning, the sun paints a pretty glow over the private beach and Dazai looks so… alive beneath it. His smile is bright and genuine, skin flushed and radiant, eyes reminiscent of pools of honey—you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so bright before. His fingers thrum excitedly against the book he’s bringing down to the beach with him: The Aeneid—he’s read it before, he very snootily told you when you side-eyed him for grabbing it, he just needs to refresh on it for his creative writing class.

When the two of you get down to the shore, you sit down in the sand right near the water’s edge, dipping your feet into the cool water. Dazai plops down next to you, pressing his shoulder against yours and you itch to wrap your arm around his waist, slide your hand under the comfy sweatshirt he’s wearing to rub circles over the bandages covering his skin, but your hands stay stiff in your lap as you stare down at the phone resting on your lap.

You have half a mind to toss it right into the bay. 

But then Dazai nudges you, waiting for you to start talking, and you sigh, looking back across the bay.

“They call themselves the Guild,” you finally say. You can feel Dazai’s eyes on you, curious, and you think maybe you should quit while you’re ahead but you find yourself speaking anyway. “They’re a kind of… secret society. Based in North America. They’re powerful. A lot of influence throughout the world.”

“Why are they here?” Dazai asks and you can feel the way his face twists as he then adds, “More influence than you?”

You can’t help the amused smile that twitches to your lips at his words. “I’m not the end all of political influence, Dazai,” you tell him, the tension in your shoulders slipping away as you tilt your head to the side to look at him

Dazai gives you a look. “Please, I was at that event. I heard the way people talked about you. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re the most influential person in Japan.”

“Probably the eastern hemisphere,” you correct, quite humbly, snorting as Dazai rolls his eyes. “No, I’m kidding. I have a lot of influence but there are plenty with more than me, especially considering I’m held back by the fact that I can’t make myself a public figure. Having to perpetually work behind the scenes is pretty… crippling.”

“You go to the big government events though,” Dazai frowns. “Those are-”

“Very, very confidential unless certain cockroaches worm their way in and feed information to the public,” you say dryly, watching as Dazai gives you an offended look. 

“Did you just call me a cockroach?”

“If the shoe fits.” You shrug.

“My bella hates me,” Dazai sighs whimsically, dropping his head on your shoulder. “She thinks I’m a bug. A cockroach.”

You soften when he comes in contact with you, lifting your hand to cradle the side of his head. Your lips curl up into a small smile when Dazai’s lashes flutter shut as he leans into your touch. You brush your fingers through his hair, choosing your words carefully as you continue to explain what’s going on in spite of your better judgment.

“Anyway, they have more influence than me. I’ve been working all night trying to figure out what to do, pulled as many strings as I can trying to get the government to push them out of Yokohama but they’ve eaten their way right into the heart of Japan. They’ve been granted diplomatic immunity and they’re putting pressure on the government to try to get us—the Port Mafia—and some government agencies that are protesting the invasion of the city to back off. They’re trying to get their hands on a skilled business permit, we don’t know why but…”

“But you have suspicions,” Dazai finishes for you, sitting up straight again to watch you, ever perceptive. “Right?”

You don't respond for a moment as you watch him carefully. Dazai has always been perceptive—you’ve noticed it from early on when you would talk around the truth and he would train that sharp gaze on you, knowing that you were skirting around something but unable to figure out what. 

Honestly, it should be concerning. Dazai’s smarter than almost anyone you’ve ever met. He’s sharp and quick—proved it with the way he managed to get his hands on the tapes behind the Tokyo City Hall to get evidence of your mafia affiliation; even proved it before that when he recognized that he had to go about information gathering in a different manner, trying to pin down your political opinions because he knew which sectors supported which opinion and wanted to know which one you were a part of.

“Does it have something to do with me?”

“You’re so conceited, not everything has to do with you.”

Dazai flushes red, scowling at you and physically turning his back to you. “Well forgive me for assuming because you’ve certainly been acting like everything has to do with me.”

You smile as Dazai huffs shifting closer to press your lips against the nape of his neck, arms slipping around his waist. He gives you a dirty look but relaxes back into your chest, leaning into you. You slip your hands beneath his sweatshirt, smoothing them out over the bandages covering his slim torso, feeling the way his breath hitches at your touch.

“They’re here because of something I did,” you finally admit quietly, ignoring as he looks up at you curiously. “One of the boys you met when you came to my apartment the first time… they had a bounty on the black market on him for seven billion yen.”

Dazai chokes, splutters over air as he looks up at you and squeaks out, “Seven billion-why?”

“We don’t know,” you say honestly. “I… didn’t think it was a good sign that they were putting so high of a bounty on a seemingly random ability user. It made me think there was more to it than meets the eye, that it would be… dangerous for us to hand him over to the Guild.”

Dazai’s brows furrow as he nods. “I mean, it makes sense. That much money for a what? Eighteen year old kid? Is his ability special?”

“He can turn into a tiger,” you tell him. “Can’t even control it.”

Dazai sits back up straight again, holding his book in his lap as he turns to face you, crossing his legs together. You feel a bit of fondness bubbling in your chest when you see how quickly he seems to be thinking, you can all but see the gears running swiftly behind his dark eyes.

“Is he the tiger? Is the tiger something of its own sentience? I did a research project on ability users two years ago, mostly I was just reading the studies of how they’re dragged into criminal organizations at a young age, but some of them talked about how some ability users can’t even control their ability because it’s like… a separate consciousness. Maybe it knows something? Or there are parts of his ability that he hasn’t been able to unlock yet?”

Is it sentient? Atsushi hadn’t made any mention of it and you hadn’t thought to ask. It wouldn’t be… unheard of. Dazai is right in that there’s been a record of ability users who claim that their abilities have a consciousness of their own. There’s a member of the SDUP, a higher up in the Family who you met a few years back, and even Chuuya. Arahabaki is its own sentient being within Chuuya, could that be why Atsushi can’t control his ability? You don’t know, you hadn’t really considered it but it’s definitely a possibility, and it would explain the Guild’s desperation to get their hands on him.

“Either way, I mean, I think you were definitely right to keep him close,” Dazai shrugs. “They clearly want him badly for a reason and since it’s not one that can be seen at face value, who knows what it could be.”

“I wish you had been at the meeting where I had to argue with all of them about it,” you say bitterly, still irritated over the hours you spent arguing with the other executives, who were dead set on getting the money from the bounty.

Dazai tilts his head to the side, an unreadable look crossing his face for a second but then he shakes his head and asks, “So political pressure isn’t working?”

“No. I mean, they don’t want the Americans here anymore than any of us but they don’t have a choice. After you fell asleep, I spent most of the night on the phone with the Minister of Foreign Affairs, talked to the US ambassador in Tokyo and asked our ambassador in the US to try to work with their government to get the Guild out of Japan. Got nowhere with it. If something could’ve been done politically to force them out of here, I would’ve gotten it done.”

You even called Tolstoy last night. You don’t like going to outsiders about domestic problems but you feel as if you’re backed into a corner—it’s your fault that the Guild is here and you can’t even do anything to fix it. And now-and now Dazai is at risk too. You have half a mind to keep him locked up in this beach house until you can figure everything out but you doubt that he’d stay in one place and he’s better off at your side than on his own.

He doesn’t respond for a moment, oblivious to the thoughts running through your head—or maybe not, he probably knows exactly how stressed you are about this. You’ve never been without your phone and you know you’re making a mistake by turning it off now but you just can’t bring yourself to turn it on, dreading whatever messages you might find. Chuuya’s rage at your disappearance, Kouyou’s disapproval and worst of all, Mori’s disappointment.

He would know where you are. Who you’re with. Why you disappeared and why you were unable to fix this before it became a major problem for the Mafia. He promised not to intervene if it didn’t affect Port Mafia business and you let it anyway. You ran to Dazai when you should have gone to the meeting and you can’t even bring yourself to regret it even when you know that you put him in danger, not just from your enemies but also from-

You feel Dazai’s hand brush your cheek as he reaches out, brows knit in concern as he looks at you and you realize that your breath has quickened noticeably, shallow and uneven. You try to calm yourself down but it only makes your heart rate spike more because you can’t figure out why you’re unable to get yourself under control.

“Hey,” Dazai says quietly, almost as if he doesn’t want to startle you, but he sounds like he’s underwater. Or you’re underwater. Something isn’t right—you know what isn’t right, you know what’s happening but you can’t stop it. “Hey, it’s okay-”

It’s not okay. It’s very much not okay. Your fingers dig into the sand, the small grains getting stuck beneath your fingernails as you try to physically ground yourself. You never should have started talking about this with him—you’d known it was going to force you to confront everything you’ve been avoiding the past few hours, your failure and incapability but he asked you and you couldn’t-

You couldn’t say no.

You need to-

“You need to make them want to go back.”

You’re so caught off guard by Dazai’s words that it startles you right out of your spiral. Your gaze focuses on him and you watch as he starts to light up, excited. His hands drop to your wrists, holding them gently as he urges you to pay attention to him. 

“You need to make them want to go back,” he repeats, faster this time. “You can’t force them, so you have to make them choose to go on their own.”

You shake your head, still unsteady from your sudden bout of panic. You briefly shut your eyes and then say quietly, “Dazai, that’s a lot easier said than done. How-”

“The best defense is a good offense,” Dazai quotes at you, nearly vibrating. “Counterattack, do something to make them have to go back to America.”

Oh.

Oh my god.

“Oh my god,” you voice out loud, little over a breath. “Oh my god. Octavio.”

“Who?” Dazai blinks, staring at you as you fumble to turn your phone back on.

“Octavio Paz,” you say hurriedly, willing your phone to turn back on. “He’s the leader of one of Mexico’s biggest cartels, has been trying to expand his foothold into the central parts of the US for years but one of the Guild members—Twain, maybe, Steinbeck, one of them—they always prevented it. If I can get him to do something now-”

You’re stupid, you’re so stupid for not thinking of this sooner. Mori has always taught you it—the one that strikes the first blow wins the battle—you should’ve had Octavio Paz making movements in the US as soon as you decided to keep Atsushi with the Port Mafia. As soon as you were considering keeping Atsushi with the Port Mafia. You were stupid and you let the Guild make the opening move of the game, and now it could cost you.

But if you can act fast enough then maybe…

As your phone finally starts to turn on, you look back up at Dazai.

“I could kiss you,” you breathe out, watching his face light up at your approval. 

You almost find yourself a bit suspicious of how quickly he came to this conclusion, how naturally this thought process seemed to come to him. You had been struggling trying to figure out what to do and you have over a decade of experience now—you were too focused on the fact that they were already here, so focused on the defense that you were scrambling and blinded to the prospect of an offense. And yes, it might’ve just been stupidity on your part—stupidity and carelessness, that is—but Dazai is a twenty-two year old literature student, how the hell was he able to figure it out in a span of a handful of minutes while you’ve been so lost?

“What’s stopping you?” Dazai prods, leaning forward.

His eyes are wide and imploring, a warm golden color beneath the rays of the sun; his lips are curved up into a sweet smile and you let all of your suspicions wash away. You reach forward to cup his cheek, watching as he immediately presses his face into your hand, eyes sliding shut as he brushes his lips to your palm before looking back up at you, expectant.

You lean in and graze your lips against his but just as you consider deepening the kiss, you notice that your phone screen has finally flickered on, so you lean back, not catching the way Dazai’s face instantly falls.

“I’m going to go make a few calls—I have to head back to the house to grab my laptop. You want to come in or stay out here for a bit?” you ask absently as you rise to your feet.

“I think I’ll stay out here for a bit,” he says quietly. “Hopefully everything works out.”

You don’t respond as you make your way up the beach back to the house, wincing as you see a spam of nearly forty messages from Chuuya, a dozen from Piano Man, and a handful from Kouyou come in.

Worse, there’s not a single message or missed call from Mori. 

A few hours later, you’re sitting with Dazai on the couch in the beach house watching a movie. He’s resting back against your chest, your arms loose around his waist—you think he’s falling asleep actually, every time you look down, his eyes are drooping shut but then snap back open whenever he realizes that you’re looking down at him. 

You’re being spammed with calls again now that your phone is back on—both Chuuya and Piano Man have been calling and texting incessantly. You think they’re taking turns, honestly, when one isn’t calling, the other is. You had to put their numbers on do not disturb but you did reach out to Klaus and Akutagawa, giving them quick orders to do what they can to fuck with the Guild. 

Now, you’re waiting for a text from Paz to confirm he’s made the necessary movements into the central parts of the US—you had to redirect a weapons shipment from South America up to Paz and his men, so you have to compensate for that with Machado down in Brazil, but he’s always been easily appeased. You’ll just have to take a trip down there some time soon to wine and dine him as an apology.

As soon as you get the confirmation from him, you can put your phone away and just spend the night relaxing with Dazai. Maybe try to figure out what’s going on in this movie. Honestly, neither of you are even really watching the movie so you don’t even know why it’s playing but it’s nice background noise at the very least. 

“Can I ask you something?” Dazai asks quietly after a few moments, playing with your fingers and tilting his head up against your shoulder to look at you.

“You have no idea how much I dread those words coming from you,” you say dryly. “Go ahead. Ask.”

Dazai pouts at your words but there’s a serious look in his eyes that has you on edge, a bit concerned to what he might want to ask you.

“What did Chuuya mean the other night?” Dazai asks after a few moments, as if trying to figure out how he wants to phrase his question. When you only give him a confused look in return, he adds on, “He said that you couldn’t save someone last time. That this time wouldn’t be any different.”

 Immediately, you stiffen and Dazai straightens up from where he’s sitting to turn to look at you, concerned. “I don’t-” you start to say, voice strained and tongue heavy in your mouth. “I-”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Dazai tells you, seemingly a bit taken aback by how you’re struggling for words. “It’s okay. I was just wondering.”

You think you should take the out given to you because even just the thought of talking about what happened two years ago with Chuuya and his girl and the Serpent’s Tongue. Even after all of the time that’s passed, the image of Chuuya hunched over her body is still burned behind your eyelids. You still wake up gasping and sweaty with the sound of Chuuya’s screams still ringing through your ears. There are still days where the guilt of what happened is so crushing that you can hardly breathe. 

“Chuuya… he was dating a civilian two years ago,” you find yourself speaking instead but your voice sounds distant, like you’re not talking but instead listening to someone else talk. You don’t even register that your lips are moving, they feel numb and prickly but the words tumble from your lips. “She was our age, a year older maybe. In her third year of university, on track for med school—I think she went to YNU actually. She wanted to be a doctor. I only met her a few times, but Chuuya never shut up about her, would brag about her to anyone who would listen.”

You sit up straight, smoothing your hands up and down against the skin of your thighs a few times anxiously. Your tongue feels weighted, you can hardly bring yourself to continue; you don’t want to continue so you don’t know why you’re trying to force yourself. Dazai’s gaze is so intense that you can’t even bring yourself to look up at him, you keep your eyes trained on your lap even as he reaches out to entwine his fingers with yours.

“How did they meet?” Dazai prods curiously, purposely trying to steer the conversation to a lighter topic when he hears the way your voice wavers.

“He was stupid,” you say, the wry smile that tugs to your lips is a bit more genuine. You pause and then amend, “We were both stupid when we were twenty—thought we were untouchable—but Chuuya especially. Was a bit too arrogant on a mission and got three bullets in the back because of it. He dragged himself out of the warehouse they were ambushed in and into an alley—she was coming back from a late night class and ran into him. Took him back to her place and patched him up, he couldn’t move for three weeks and he didn’t have his phone on him. I went crazy looking for him, thought he was dead or worse, captured.”

Crazy might be understating it, honestly. In the three weeks Chuuya was missing, you all but upended the entire Mafia. There was no information on who the assailants had been, the entire warehouse had burned to the ground and the only three survivors were comatose, so you orchestrated the end of five different organizations that had been pressing their luck in Mafia territory, hoping that one of them had been the culprit. 

Realistically, you had known that if any of the organizations had captured Chuuya, they would have made it known that they had him, but you’d been so viciously angry that you hadn’t even cared in the moment… and you had thought at the time, that if he wasn’t captured, he was almost definitely dead, so you hadn’t wanted to consider the alternative as an actual option.

“But no, he was with a civilian girl who knew damn well from the wounds and his outfit what he was involved with but still decided to help him,” you say, rolling your eyes and shaking your head. “She was just as stupid as us, I guess.”

“How did you meet her?” Dazai asks curiously. “Did Chuuya introduce you?”

Your smile softens a bit at the edges as you pull his hand into your lap, tracing along the lines of his palm and up his fingers. “Nah, Chuuya tried to keep her out of this as much as possible. Talked all about her but never brought her around, was careful to never give up too much information about her to people he didn’t fully trust.”

You sigh, gaze drifting from his hand over to the window, watching absently as the wind smacks a tree branch against the glass. You think there must be a storm rolling in—you’d noticed that the skies were getting cloudy before the sun had set earlier but you hadn’t thought anything of it. You hope it doesn’t knock the power out—you don’t think this place has a generator. 

“I only met her by chance—was in the area with Klaus handling a small gang that was causing trouble for civilians because I had nothing better to do. I get there and lo and behold, they’ve got Chuuya’s girl backed in an alley. We got there before they could do anything but she was shaken, obviously. Was sweet though, she recognized me from pictures Chuuya has, invited both me and Klaus back to her apartment and made us tea. Chuuya flew across the city when I texted him, crashed right through the window.”

Your lips quirk up into another smile as you remember the way that Chuuya had quite literally crashed through her window, panicked and furious that some lowlives had tried to fuck with her. The way she spent thirty minutes shouting at him for breaking her window and forcing him to go replace it before he even had himself oriented.

Dazai snorts and then quietly asks the dreaded question, “What happened to her?”

“We were stupid,” you repeat, softer this time. “Thought we were untouchable. Chuuya—he’s the strongest ability user in the world—and I’m set to take over the strongest mafia in the eastern hemisphere. No one would dare try to attack either of us because they know it’s futile—a death wish. And we… forgot that the people we love aren’t as protected. That there are people out there who would do anything to try to cripple us if given the chance.”

Your throat swells, an uncomfortable lump forming as you stare ahead blankly, the movie still playing but none of it processing through your brain. You don’t even know what’s happening on it, all you can see are indecipherable blobs moving on the screen. Dazai doesn’t press you to continue but you can still feel him looking at you and the way he squeezes your hand, so you take in a deep breath before continuing.

“It was a Thursday night. Chuuya was meeting her on campus to bring her out of the city for the weekend as a surprise. She never walked out of the building her class was in and when he asked around, they said she never showed up. He went to her apartment to check on her because he realized something was up and the whole place was trashed—blood everywhere, windows shattered, they even killed one of her fucking cats. Chuuya called me but he couldn’t even speak properly, I tracked him to her apartment and realized what had happened.”

He had her other cat in his lap, you remember, stomach twisting uncomfortably. Was kneeling in her blood next to the other one with the living one curled in his lap, licking his wrist as if begging him to get up and snap out of it. You’d never seen him like that before—face so pale that he looked bloodless, eyes wide and haunted, not processing anything around him—he was usually good in emergencies, never froze up, always moved forward. He didn’t even fight Klaus and Akutagawa when you told them to get him to your apartment, to not let anyone see him like this.

“I… he wasn’t in the right state to lead or plan an operation, so I did. I took over,” you say quietly, “and I failed.”

It wasn’t your first failure. Itou’s death was your fault no matter how much people try to convince you otherwise. Even if the information you’d been given wasn’t accurate, you still should’ve been quicker on your feet. You’ve circled the what-ifs in your head over and over again, there were so many routes you could’ve taken but you’d frozen up in the face of a situation out of your control and it cost Itou his life.

Wasn’t your first failure, but it was the first that had been entirely in your control. You took too long to figure out who had her, took too long to get the Black Lizards organized, by the time you got to their base, she’d already been dead.

“They were called the Serpent’s Tongue. A younger organization that had been based in Kyoto before they came to Yokohama. We hadn’t been taking them seriously,” you tell him, voice hoarse. “Should have been, obviously. By the time I’d figured out who had her and where they were… Chuuya was demanding to come with us, wanted to be the first face she saw after getting her out of there. Wouldn’t budge on it. We got there and they left her head for us to find. Chuuya had barged into the room first and…”

You still hear the way he screamed her name in your nightmares, still see how he’d fallen to his knees. He’d unleashed corruption in his grief, devastating the area and nearly killing you with it—when you pulled him out of it, he told you that you should’ve let it take him. You let out a heavy breath, gaze drifting to the side again. 

“I don’t have a good track record for saving people,” you say quietly. “I don’t… her death destroyed Chuuya. And if you… if something happens to you now when I know better…”

You’d never recover from it. Never.

“... That’s why you were so mad,” Dazai realizes after a few moments. When you give him a confused look, he elaborates. “The day we got my suit tailored and I texted you.”

You snort. “I had Chuuya on standby and was about to put the Mafia’s equivalent of the special ops on standby because I thought you were in trouble.”

Dazai flushes bright red. “I didn’t know,” he complains. “How was I supposed to know?”

Your lips curve up into a fond smile as you reach out for him, beckoning him to come back over to you. He pouts but he crawls back over, wrapping his arms around your waist and pushing you back until you’re laying on the couch so that he can lay right on top of you, burying his face in your chest. You bring one hand up to cradle the back of his head, the other sliding down to his back to hold him close to you.

You feel his lips pull up into a smile as he tilts his head up, big brown eyes peeking up at you, a soft brown under the dim lighting of the room, sweet and adoring. You’ve never had someone look at you that way in your life—like you’re something worth being treasured, someone to treat gently. Your breath catches in your throat as he leans up to brush his lips against your jaw and-

And you think you love him.

The thought is so jarring that you almost physically flinch as soon as it crosses your mind. You only realize something’s wrong when you notice that Dazai’s eyes shot open in surprise and instantly, your mouth floods with ash.

No way.

“What?” he breathes out.

“What?” you echo, voice flat.

“What did you just say?” he asks, a bit more rushed, eyes bright but expression hesitant—as if he’s trying to not get his hopes up but can’t help himself. “Tell me what you said. Say it again.”

You have half a mind to deny it but Dazai just looks so… he looks so happy. Hopeful. Like you’ve told him something that he never expected anyone to ever say to him. So all you can do is steel yourself and clear your throat as you say quietly: “I think I love you.”

Dazai doesn’t respond; he stares at you and you think he’s hardly even breathing. His eyes rapidly search your face, desperately trying to figure out if you’re telling him the truth or not and when he finds his answer, he looks entirely devastated, as if you’ve taken his world and ripped it right out from under him.

“I’m not someone made to be loved,” he tells you, voice so quiet that you barely even hear it. His fingers clutch your shirt tightly like he’s scared to let go of you.

Your smile softens. “Yet here I am.”

“You’ll regret it,” Dazai says shakily, throat bobbing as he swallows. “You will.”

A part of you wants to tell him no, that if anyone ends up regretting anything, it will be him—that if anyone isn’t made for love, it’s you—but you don’t have it in you. You raise your hand to cup his cheek, watching as his lashes flutter shut; you lift your other hand to brush his hair back behind his ear.

“I won’t,” you tell him quietly.

“You will,” he insists. “You really will. I-”

“I won’t,” you say again, firmer this time, and Dazai lets out a noise in the back of his throat, dropping down to lay flat against you, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

His lashes are wet, you can feel the dampness against your skin, and you can also feel how hot his face is. You smile as your hand slides to the back of his head again, absently playing with the dark locks as you tilt your head to the side and kiss his temple.

Dazai takes in a wet, ragged breath at the casual and unexpected action. You can feel his shoulders shake as he tries to regain control of himself and your free hand rests between his shoulder blades, thumb drawing circles against his skin. 

“What happened to the cat?” Dazai suddenly asks after a few moments of him trying to settle down, voice cracking and wavering over the words as he desperately tries to change the subject to something that doesn’t have him on the verge of collapse.

“The cat?”

“The cat, the one that lived. What happened to it?” he asks more insistently, not bothering to even look up from where he’s hiding his face against you.

“Oh.” You realize what he’s talking about. “Chuuya took it in.”

Dazai makes a sharp noise of disgust. “Gross,” he complains. “He doesn’t even seem like a cat person.”

You can’t help the puff of laughter that escapes your lips. “What is your problem with him?” you ask. “You’ve had it out for him from day one.”

Dazai sniffs. “I just don’t like him, that’s all,” he says defensively. “I don’t need a reason.”

“Sure,” you agree, amused. “Whatever you say.”

Dazai lights up suddenly at your words. “Whatever I say?” he prods, finally lifting his face to look up at you, eyes gleaming. You give him a suspicious look but Dazai only gives you a sweet smile in return.

“Nothing,” he sings without you even needing to say anything, making you even more suspicious, but then he lays back down on top of you, nudging his nose against the side of your face. You feel him smile against your skin, he kisses your cheek once, twice and then a third time before settling back down. “Let’s watch Despicable Me.”

“No.”

“You said whatever I say-”

“No!”

“Are you asleep?”

Dazai pouts as he nudges you gently—he’s been wide awake for over an hour now and he knows he shouldn’t bother you considering you didn’t sleep the night before, but he still finds himself seeking out your company. He’s half laying on top of you, head resting on your shoulder as he continues to bop his forehead against your chin to wake you up.

The two of you had gone back to the bedroom a few hours ago and you’d fallen asleep pretty quickly. Dazai had dozed off for a bit too, but he found himself startled awake by a particularly loud cracking noise from outside, a tree toppling over from the wind probably, and now he couldn’t fall back asleep.

And a Dazai left with only his own mind as company is not a good Dazai.

He tried to distract himself with you for a bit. Watched you sleep for a while—creepy as it is, he found peace in watching the steady rise and fall of your chest, the soft puffs of air that left your lips, how every time he tried to pull away from you, your brows would furrow and your arms would tighten around him. He’s never had someone who wanted him before, much less someone who wanted him so genuinely and unconditionally that even in their sleep, they seek him out and want him close. He didn’t even know what to think of it, honestly, a part of him was still waiting for you to start laughing and telling him that this is all some big joke.

I think I love you.

His breath shakes the same way it does every time your words echo through his head, fingers trembling from where he’s running them up and down your arm softly. 

Love. Love. Love. 

You love him. Him. Someone who can hardly function on an everyday basis, someone who has to wrap himself up in bandages because he’s embarrassed of what lies beneath them, someone who has only ever had death and misfortune follow him around his entire life. You love him even though you’ve listened to him fumble over words like a fool because he gets tongue tied in your presence, you love him even though he blackmailed you into giving him a chance because he was that desperate for your attention, you love him even though you had to pick him up at the hospital after a failed suicide attempt because he has no one else in his life to call. 

You love him. Him. You love him in spite of all of his flaws—and he knows very well there are a lot of them. You love him in spite of all of the pushback from the people around you. You love him in spite of the fact that your world is completely different from his, in spite of the fact that you could do so much better than him, in spite of the fact that Dazai is Dazai and you’re you and you’re so far out of his league that Dazai doesn’t even think he should be breathing the same air as you, much less curling up next to you in bed. Even though it puts so much at risk—your life, your occupation, everything—you love him still and Dazai just can’t understand it.

And Dazai loves you. 

He does. He thinks he’s known it since the beginning, since that day at the school library when you came over because he was sitting all alone at a table that was clearly meant for a group of individuals and not just one, when you realized something was bothering him so you gave him your name even though he had been rude to you when he got embarrassed over having no friends. Since that day at his apartment complex when you showed up to deal with his shitty landlord; he’d made a joke about how you should waive his rent, not expecting anything of it, and you did. Since you rushed to him while he was at the men’s warehouse—he’d thought it was odd that you seemed so irritated by his dramatics trying to get you to come to him, but now that he knew it was because you thought he was in trouble, thought he was in danger and rushed to him like he was the only thing that mattered even back then…

Dazai loves you, and he didn’t tell you when you told him—he wants to tell you even though the thought of pushing those words out of his mouth terrifies him, so he returns to trying to wake you up.

“Wake up,” Dazai complains quietly, booping his forehead against your chin again. “Wake up, wake up, wake-”

“What’s wrong?” you finally ask through a yawn, voice rough with sleep as you shift a bit. One of your hands comes up to run your fingers through his hair and Dazai hums at the feeling, eyes drooping shut again as he sinks back into your chest. “Dazai?”

“Osamu,” he corrects quietly, “... will you call me Osamu?”

Your fingers still in their steady strokes through his hair and for a split second, Dazai thinks that he misstepped. But then, you lean your head down to press your lips against his forehead and he can only let out a shaky breath, nuzzling his face into your body.

“Osamu,” you repeat, voice soft and a bit more awake—and god, the sound of his given name leaving your lips is almost heavenly, he thinks. 

He can’t remember the last time someone called him by his first name, his aunt was probably the last and it was her screaming at him to get out of his car before she left him to die in Suribachi. It’s an unpleasant memory, and he thinks that maybe he’s only been able to associate his given name with unpleasantness because of it, but this… it makes him feel light and cozy, like the warmth of a hearth surrounding him after spending years alone in the cold wilderness. He thinks he could hear you say his name a million times and never tire of this feeling.

“Osamu, tell me what’s wrong. Why’d you wake me up?”

His lips part to say the three words he planned on saying but they wither and die on his tongue when his eyes meet yours. Even with your words ringing through his head, he can’t bring himself to say it. And it’s silly. It’s silly because he’s scared that if he says it, it’ll be the trigger the gods need to finally rip you away from him—everything he never wants to lose is always lost the moment he obtains it, it’s true, he told you this and he’s been treading such a fine line and he’s terrified that speaking those three words out loud will be enough for the twisted gods above to finally rip the rug out from under his feet.

So, he doesn’t say it.

“Osamu,” you frown—he’ll never tire of it, he has half a mind to ask you to say it over and over and over again, doesn’t care if it makes him seem crazy. “What’s going on?”

He needs to say something—the longer he sits here evading answering, the more concerned you’re going to get, and the more concerned you get, the harder it’s going to be to lie. Dazai’s throat spasms as he instead broaches a different topic that has been bothering him for a few weeks.

“Are you attracted to me?”

It has been a rather persistent thought in the back of his head, even more so since the two of you spoke at the cliff yesterday. At first, he thought maybe it was just because you didn’t really want him—that you were trying to evade any physical intimacy with him because he was backing you into a corner and you were uncomfortable. 

But now? Knowing that you do want him? He doesn’t have any other explanation than the fact that maybe you just aren’t attracted to him… and he’s not sure he can blame you. Who would be attracted to someone who hardly takes care of himself and wraps himself in bandages like a mummy?

You stare at him for a moment, expression too blank for comfort before your brows begin to furrow. The longer you take to respond, the more embarrassed Dazai is.  

“What?” you finally ask, voice stunted and perplexed.

Dazai’s face heats up, regretting his words immediately. 

He should have just told you what he wanted to say originally.

“Nevermind,” he says, rolling over so that his back is to you, not wanting you to see his red face. “Forget it.”

“Hey, no,” you say, suddenly sounding all too awake and Dazai squeezes his eyes shut, wanting to crawl into a ditch and die. “Osamu, what? What are you even talking about? How is that even a question?”

He feels you sit up in the bed next to him and pointedly lays on his stomach to bury his face in the pillow to try to hide himself even as you shift to look over at him. It’s to no avail because you’re a brute and decide to just grab his shoulder to forcibly roll him back onto his back. Dazai scowls up at you, face still aflame. 

“Don’t manhandle me,” he grumbles, averting his gaze but you only shift right back into his line of vision, frowning. “Stop, it’s nothing. Forget it. Really.”

“It’s not nothing,” you say, reaching out to cup his cheek and Dazai thinks you’re entirely unfair because he is simply too weak to your touch so he can already feel himself giving in when you look at him with a slight frown and say, “Tell me.”

Dazai huffs. He huffs and he bristles like an irritated cat, he scowls up at you for forcing him to explain himself and then his shoulders slump in defeat. 

How embarrassing.

“I just… have tried to… initiate things and you… don’t ever… want to?”

Dazai thinks a gun in the mouth might be kinder than this.

And then-

And then you have the nerve to laugh at him. Or, you don’t laugh but you smile and you look like you’re about to laugh, so Dazai jerks up into a sitting position, offended. Your hand falls from his face and instantly, he’s yearning for your touch again. 

“You’re laughing at me,” he accuses, voice dripping with disbelief. “You just laughed at me when I was opening up to you.”

“No,” you say and then laugh. You laugh and Dazai stares at you in abject horror. “No, I’m not laughing at you.”

“You’re laughing at me right now,” Dazai squawks. “You’re-I can’t believe you’re laughing at me.”

“Osamu,” you say, smile softening as you look at him. You reach out again, fingers brushing his skin before your palm settles against his cheek again, thumb so close to the corner of his lips. Dazai’s breath hitches, lashes fluttering as his eyes meet yours. “I knew that if we started something, I wouldn’t be able to stop. So I didn’t want to let it start. I… still thought you’d be better off away from me, out of this life, and I wouldn’t have been able to let go if I let anything happen between us.”

Dazai stares at you for a moment, processing the words, and then confirms, “... So you are attracted to me?”

“Yes,” you say, unbearably amused. “Very.”

“... But why?” Dazai asks quietly, voice a bit too vulnerable for his liking.

“What do you mean why?” 

He clears his throat and looks up at the ceiling as he says, “I’m not anything special, y’know?” He’s careful to keep his voice light and airy, void of all of the insecurity that’s been ripping him apart since the two of you met. “I just don’t get it. You could have anyone you want—literally—so why me?”

You click your tongue and Dazai hears you shift around again, breath catching when you sit yourself right on his lap, lifting both hands to his face now to force him to look at you. With his face settled between your hands and your body flush to his, Dazai has no choice but to meet your gaze head on and he almost dies at the intense look in your eyes, can hardly breathe.

“Do you want me to show you why?” you hum with a teasing smile.

Dazai inhales sharply, eyes widening at the offer. His lips part to respond but no words leave them, so he just nods. You’re not pleased with that response, clearly, from how you raise your eyebrows.

“Yes,” he rasps out. “Show me. Prove that you want me. Please.”

You don’t even waste a second before you’re leaning in to press your lips against his. Dazai’s eyes flutter shut and his breath hitches as you press him back against the plush pillows of the bed. He’s suddenly acutely aware of the rough bandages covering his body that are probably prickling your skin uncomfortably, of his chapped lips and hair that’s a bit too dry because he never properly washes it. 

“The first thing I noticed about you was your eyes,” you say quietly, pulling away from him so your gaze could meet his. He tries to chase your lips but you don’t let him. “I could hardly look away from them. I tried to walk away from you that night at the bar but every time I looked at you, I found myself lost in them.”

Dazai’s throat spasms, face flushing. “Don’t lie,” he tells you, voice hoarse. “Nobody likes my…”

Too wide. Too black. Too empty. Dull. Hollow. Soulless. All things he’s heard people say about his eyes—no one can ever look him in the eyes for too long before they find themselves uncomfortable. 

“I’m not lying,” you say with a soft smile, there’s almost a wistful look in your eyes as you continue. “Right now, they remind me of the night sky, dark and endless, filled with countless glittering stars… I love the stars… They remind me of home.”

Dazai chews on his bottom lip as he stares up at you; he tries to speak but again, he finds himself unable to. You don’t force him to this time though, bringing your hand back to his cheek and running your thumb over his bottom lip as if to stop him from biting at it.

“Under the sun, they’re gold,” you tell him quietly. “The first time I noticed, it was the day we met at the ports. Sunset. You were standing right at the opening of the alley I’d been waiting in with Klaus and the sun hit you just right. You looked so pretty beneath it that I was almost tongue-tied. If we hadn't been interrupted, I would’ve made a fool of myself.”

“You’re exaggerating,” Dazai’s voice wobbles terribly. “You-”

“I’m not,” you murmur. Dazai’s breath shakes as you lean back down to kiss the corner of his lips. This time, instead of going back to his lips, you kiss down to his jaw slowly. “The second thing I noticed about you was your smile.”

Too fake. Too teethy. Too strained. Unnatural looking.

“Not the fake one you love to put on,” you say, nipping his skin gently. “Your real one. I got a glimpse of it that day at the cafe—the second time we met—when you realized I’d actually been listening to you that night at the bar. But I really saw it that day at Kido’s when we started talking about poetry… I don’t even think you realized you were smiling, the corners of your lips were curved up and your expression was just so… soft. Peaceful. You looked happy and I think that was the first time I really realized that a large majority of the time you put on a mask when you’re around people.”

When you kiss down to the edge of the bandages around his neck, Dazai thinks you’ll ask him to take them off and he braces himself for the question. Braces himself for the discomfort of being bare in front of someone for the first time… ever maybe, because it’s not like he can say no if you ask him to take them off after he badgered you into this.

But you don’t. You kiss over the bandages as if they’re not even there, you tug at his shirt to get him to lift his arms up for you to pull it off and when you do, you continue kissing down his chest—over the bandages—and don’t even show the slightest bit of discontent about it.

“You’ve seen through me… since all the way back then?” Dazai swallows thickly when your hands rest on his slim waist, breath quickening. “But then why…”

Why did you stay?

“That day at the boutique… I was supposed to cut you off,” you admit quietly, sitting back on his thighs as your hands rest on his hips, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of his sweatpants, but you don’t move to pull them off. Dazai’s body is uncomfortably hot, head frighteningly fuzzy, he can only barely bring himself to listen to your words. “My first thought when I realized that I’d gotten my first glimpse behind your mask was that I wanted to see more of you, wanted to see you smile genuinely, wanted to learn more about you, I wanted you. I’d realized I let it go too far—that I was starting to actually fall for you and I was putting you in danger—but even then, I couldn’t do it.”

His breath shakes as he breathes in and out, fingers digging into your thighs. He parts his lips to say something but you continue before he can.

“I spoke to Chuuya that same night—he told me that this had to stop, that I was going to get you killed. The next time we met was at the ports. One of the Port Mafia’s enemies had seen us together,” you say, expression a bit more serious now. “Klaus killed him. I had the entire organization exterminated that same night.”

Dazai thinks that shouldn’t have turned him on as much as it did. His heart rate spikes at your words, breath quickening and that pool of heat in his lower abdomen gets impossibly hotter, his mind almost entirely shatters at what you’re saying. Your grip on his hips tightens just a bit, lips pressed together as you look down at him with an unreadable expression.

“I would do terrible things for you, Dazai Osamu,” you tell him softy. “I have done terrible things for you and I would do them again and again and again.”

“Please,” Dazai breathes out, and he’s not even sure what he’s saying please for, but you do. 

You do. As always, Dazai is seen when he’s with you and he can’t help the whimper that spills from his lips, the way his eyes mist over with tears. Dazai is seen and he is loved and-and he’s happy. He’s happy—really, truly happy for the first time since Odasaku’s death.

You lean down to kiss Dazai again—this kiss is sloppier than the last few, a frantic clashing of teeth as your hands slide down his body to pull his sweatpants off. Dazai lifts his hips to help you get them off of him, his own fingers clumsily tugging at your silk shorts to try to yank them off of you.

Once he gets them off, his hands drop down to your hips, pulling you down so that you’re sitting flush against him. He moans into your mouth when he finally gets the friction he’s so desperately been aching for, grinding his clothed cock against your panties. He feels almost dizzy with need, lips sliding messily against yours, nails digging crescents into your hips. He thinks maybe he might be able to cum just from this and the thought is embarrassing but he can’t even stop the way he’s rocking his hips up.

Your lips trail from his down to his neck and Dazai tosses his head back against the pillow when your teeth scrape against his skin before you bite down hard, a lewd moan escaping his lips.

“Please,” he gasps again, voice breaking over the only word he seems to be capable of saying. “Please.”

You lean forward as you reach between your bodies to ease his cock out of his briefs and Dazai nearly cums on the spot when he feels your fingers wrap around him, fingers sliding against the precum dripping down his length. You rest your forehead against his, lips dragging across his cheek back to his lips as you press the tip of his cock against your entrance.

He almost says it in that moment—foreheads pressed together, sharing the same sliver of air, both of you breathing shakily as his tip just barely sinks into you—those three words, he almost says them. They almost slip out when his gaze meets yours and he sees the soft, enamored expression on your face as you look down at him.

Dazai’s eyes knock back when you sink down on his cock, lips parted in a silent moan, vision white. For a terrifying moment, Dazai thinks he might’ve cum just from the feeling of your walls warm and tight around his cock. His whole body trembles, his head feels foggy and garbled—he’s speaking, he realizes, but he doesn’t even know what he’s saying. He can feel his lips moving, can hear something leaving them, but he’s so out of it that he can’t even process what it is. 

You nip at his lips once, then twice, before you trail kisses to his ear, savoring in the way he shivers when you tug at his earlobe. You only start to rock your hips when your lips get to that spot behind his ear that makes him entirely incoherent. You suck and nip at the skin as you roll your hips slowly, each drag of his cock against your walls makes him choke over moans. 

He’s not going to last long, he realizes absently, unable to even be mortified by the thought considering how focused he is on your body, warm and flush against his. His hands are moving sliding up your body to your chest, back down your body to your ass—he doesn’t even know what to do with them, honestly, wants to touch every part of you all at the same time, wants to make you feel half as good as you’re making him feel but he can’t even think with your lips sucking at his skin and your cunt squeezing his cock.

His moan breaks suddenly, cracking and quavering as it slips into a sob. His breath is ragged and shuddered, and his vision swims. He feels his cheeks wet and your hands leave from where they’re braced on his shoulders to cup his cheeks. 

Your thumbs wipe away the tears spilling down his cheeks, you lean down to ghost your lips against his temple, and your voice is soft, so soft as you whisper, “I know, baby, I’ve got you. Let go.”

And he does. The taut cord in his abdomen tightens impossibly more before snapping, his nails drag down your thighs, leaving long red marks, his hips snap up and he tosses his head back against the pillows. One of your hands slides from his cheek to wrap around his neck firmly and Dazai is gone—his vision goes dark and spotty, a choked cry of your name escapes his lips and Dazai cums so hard that he thinks he blacks out momentarily.

You lean down and press your lips against his, moaning into his mouth as your walls spasm around him. Dazai’s breath is sharp and quick, lashes wet and heavy, his body twitches and trembles as you ride out your high on his spent cock. He can feel you panting against his skin, your lips sliding from his to press against his cheek as you try to catch your breath.

And Dazai thinks he could stay like this forever, basking in your presence, the feeling of your body pressed to his, his cock still snug in your cunt and one of your hands cradling his face while the other cups the side of his neck, fingers absently playing with the ends of his matted hair. Your forehead rests against his cheek, savoring his presence just as much as he is yours.

He feels warm, he feels safe, he feels loved.

He feels loved.

You shift back just enough to look him in the eye, close enough so that your nose is still brushing his, that you’re still sharing air. Your thumb runs along his cheekbone and your eyes are soft and adoring as you look down at him. As you admire him.

“I could give you countless reasons as to why I want you,” you finally say quietly, “but when it comes down to it, the main reason is because you’re you, Osamu.”

He feels loved. 

Your weekend paradise with Dazai shatters with a single message not even six hours later.

Chuuya: I need you. Going to use Corruption.

smut development: minimal besides some dialogue. she told him that when she saw through his mask, her first desire was wanting to see/know more of him. also tells him what happened after she met him at the ports (ie. having the yakuza exterminated). tells him: i'd do terrible things for you - i have done terrible things for you and i would do them again. then at the very end, she tells him that the reason she wants you is because she's him.

[wonwoonlight]

in this time or the others / choi seungcheol

notes: 1.3k // nothing but pure, sweet people in love lol // seungcheol brainrot. happy bday to the only man ever 🖤

[ ❀❀❀ ]

Oftentimes you would look at Seungcheol and wonder what you did in your past lives to deserve the chance of being with him.

You don’t know if your time with him is borrowed or not, and you’re not sure why your love for him seems to be the most secure of all kinds of love that you’ve experienced throughout your life, romantic or not.

It doesn’t make sense how steady your feelings are for him, unchanging (unless when it’s getting deeper) and never stopping, almost like you’ve always known how to love him. Like breathing. You just know how to do it without anyone ever teaching you how to–it’s natural and you can’t be without it. Quite literally at that, too.

You’ve never been this secure when it comes to relationships–what with your mostly bad experiences with them and everything–but it’s easy to fall in love with Choi Seungcheol even before he starts loving you back. It’s easy to drown in his eyes and get captivated in his existence. If this is how love is supposed to feel, like a dream you don’t wish to wake up from, then you hope you’ll be stuck in this feeling forever.

That word doesn’t even scare you anymore. Thinking about forever with Seungcheol only brings smiles to your face, even though in your life prior to him it scared the shit out of you due to its uncertainty and the insecurity your head would fuel your head with.

“Why are you smiling to yourself?” Seungcheol interrupts your thoughts, handing you a mug of hot chocolate as he takes his seat next to you. Always right next to you.

“Just… thinking of something.” You try to dismiss the topic, though Seungcheol narrows his eyes at you and demands you to explain.

“Something else?” Oh, that’s the kind of mood that he’s in. You grin at his antics, letting him continue. “Not me?”

On any other day, you would’ve played along and tried to get a reaction out of him, push his buttons and kiss the pout off his face. But there’s something about today that makes you feel a little cheesy, so you look into his eyes and smile, enjoying the confused look he’s sending you because he’s expecting some witty comebacks that you’d always throw his way.

“Always you.” You whisper like it's a secret as you find yourself drowning in the universe reflected in his eyes, holding his gaze as if it's the first time you've ever looked into them. He’s flustered, of course, having not anticipated you to react this way. “I think I can't go a day without thinking about you, really. Can anyone? I personally think we're all here to revolve around you. When you're not around, I cease to exist and kinda just not do anything until you step into my subspace again.”

“Shut the fuck up.” He groans, his palm covers your face in a desperate attempt not to let you see how flustered he actually is at the turn of your words while you simply laugh through his fingers. “I knew you wouldn't just say shit like that.”

“So rude.” You pout at him, knowing how much it annoys him when you do it at times like this. “Can't believe that's how you speak to your girlfriend.”

“You–”

“And they say you make people's hearts flutter. Do they know you're this combative with someone you love?”

“That's not–”

“I've fallen into your trap, haven't I?” You match his usual dramatics, feeling a little annoying as much as you are all soft inside. “I didn't think–”

“Shut. Up.” He repeats, pulls you into his lap, and strangles you into a cuddle because he couldn't ask you like a normal person.

You settle happily into his neck, leaving a kiss on his jaw before he maneuvers you into a more comfortable position. There's a happy hum flowing throughout your body, as if telling you that it's happy that you're where you are. That this is where you belong.

“I really was thinking about you, though.” You continue your prior topic, your tone more calm and relaxed, much like the rhythm of his heartbeat.

It's funny, really. He used to think being in love means butterflies and fireworks, a series of heartbeats skipping through its tempo, or a constant flutter in his stomach. After finding you, he realizes it's not just about that. It's the way he calms at the touch of your fingers, the way his eyes follow you everywhere you might be, the way his heart fucking melts everytime you gazes into his eyes and breaks into a shy smile.

He doesn't get fireworks in his chest when he kisses you. He gets a constant buzz of electricity throughout his body that keeps him afloat.

He doesn't get butterflies in his tummies when he wakes up next to you in the morning. He gets reassurance that this is what he wants to see every morning of his fucking life.

“Yeah?” He kisses the top of your head, asking you to elaborate. “What about me?”

“Do you think we've met before?”

A laugh slips past his lips before he pulls away and looks at you, searching for your face.

“What do you mean?”

“Like, I don't know. In another lifetime?”

Seungcheol blinks, not expecting the conversation to steer this way.

“I feel like I've always known you.” You continue, seemingly lost in your thoughts. “Like I've always known to love you?”

His breath actually stops at your words, his heart beating so hard it echoes all the way to his ears, and his arms tighten around you like a lifeline.

“I wouldn't say it feels like a deja vu. It just feels like… ah, I'm so bad at this. But it feels like I've always meant to love you?”

It takes a while for Seungcheol to manage the words out of his mouth, overwhelmed by his own feelings and how out of nowhere you spur these on him.

“I'm stealing that for our wedding, just so you know.” He says without thinking, and you two spend exactly seven seconds (he counted) looking into each other in flustered bliss, registering what Seungcheol has just said.

“What?” You almost choke on your word, and it's your turn to have your heart beating throughout your entire body.

“What?” He chooses to play stupid, like he didn't just bring up the W word even though it's been his wildest dream since the moment you let him take you home three years ago that feels like, well, another lifetime.

“I–”

“I feel the same, if you're wondering.” He cuts you off, not ready to actually talk about it even though it's simply obvious–dare he says–you'd marry each other. But he doesn't want to talk about it right now, when he's struggling to think straight because of the fuzzy feelings engulfing his entire being. “Like I've always meant to love you.”

Seungcheol could've sworn there are traces of tears in your eyes that you stubbornly and successfully blink away. But he can't tease you about it when he's currently trying to stop his trembling lips to stop himself from fucking crying.

“Perhaps we did meet before.” He suddenly answers your question that starts the discussion to begin with. “In another lifetimes.”

“Lifetimes? Plural?”

“Can't imagine a life where I don't have you by my side, really.”

“Hmm. And in our next one?”

“I'll probably meet you again.”

“Yeah? And what will you do?”

“Sweep you off your feet again, duh.”

“Arrogant bastard.” You grin, though not so opposed to the idea of meeting and loving him again in every single one of your lifetime. “I don't know. I think I'd want to try dating Wonwoo.”

Seungcheol makes a sound from the back of his throat that immediately throws you into a fit of laughter; and before he can say shit and actually get upset about your little joke, you slot your lips into his and shut him up. He's still putting on an act of being upset, but you don't really care because you just know he'd smile into the kiss in a matter of seconds. And when he does, you can't help but return the gesture before you two end up giggling to yourselves for no reason at all.

It is so easy to love Choi Seungcheol.

[ellestinyposts]

"Is it too late now?"

Newt x Reader (TMZ)

summary - you thought it'll be the last time you ever saw Newt in the day he died on your arms, until he showed up in front of you.

no warnings !! this is pure fluff and maybe a little angst 😸

You sat on the sand, the cold air hitting your bare shoulders as you breathe in deeply at the salty air of the ocean in front of you, waves bring the water closer to your feet. It calms you.

you always love those small things. you loved the sun and the stars, amazed at how they can shine on they're own.

you watch the stars and wish that you could also be like those stars, shine on they're own. But you can't, you're different. you're the moon. The moon that shined because of the sun.

The moon that wait days and nights and hours to shine together side by side with the sun but the day never came.

you're the moon, while newt is your sun.

Newt, the boy that made your life thousand times more better with him in it.

you missed the days you and him wouldn't sleep and sneak out quietly and you went to the top floor with him holding hands. watching together how the stars shine the sky so brightly and feeling the night wind blow your hair.

There we're times in glade where Newt would always hold your hand tightly while kiss you on your forehead and lips once in a while and say how much he loves you, grinning so widely to you.

You miss him. You can't deny the fact you miss him. You miss the times you had with him in the glade.

The ocean waves getting closer to your feet and the sound of footsteps reaching closer to you.

"good morning" came from minho as he sat down next to you. you replied with a forced smile, not really feeling like you want to talk.

"hey, you sure you don't want any breakfast? i made pancakes, the same ones you used to made" asked thomas, sitting beside you too, as he looked at you with worry.

The same one i made in the glade for them and newt.

Newt.

"I'm not feeling really hungry", you weren't lying, you hardly eat anything ever since you arrived at the paradise.

Thomas came and sat next to you. "well then, water?"

he handed you a cup of warm water.

"Thanks", you said before taking a gulp.

Minho puts his arm around you, "i know this is hard for you", he started,

"it's hard for all of us, but you need to take care of yourself. you haven't eaten anything since yesterday we arrived, and you're supposed to be resting in your room" He finished, speaking to you softly.

You gave him a small nod, and stared at the cup your holding as the sand warms your feet. "How have you been sleeping lately?" Thomas asked

"I sleep well" you send him a soft smile as he returns the smile and trace smoothing circles on your back.

The three of you watch the ocean for a moment without a word, you look to the sand as you inhaled deeply. Minho's eyes fell on you, and you turned to him with a soft weak smile. "Hey,"

with a small forced chuckle from the black haired boy, he replied "Hey"

"I'm glad you're both okay" you glanced at your feet, "I don't know what i would've done if you guys couldn't make it"

they nodded, looking at you for a while before minho replied; "i didn't expect that i'll made it here too"

thomas chuckle, "everything feels like a dream"

you didn't reply anything and just watch the waves getting closer to your feet. "I'm hungry, i think i'm gonna go get something to eat, see you both later" with that, you walked off

you weren't actually hungry, you felt empty. you just needed a reason to walk away. talking to them remind you so much of Newt and what happened that night.

Newt's hands are cold. His eyes empty. He's gone. tears pouring faster, and you wipe the tears away roughly.

"You can't leave me like this. not now, not later. you promised me you'll never leave me. please, newt. please. answer me."

you sighed.

Slowly, you made your way to get food, dragging your feet behind you. You stared at your surroundings, fiddling the hem of your shirt, trying desperately to not think of Newt but failed miserably. everything feels weird without him. the feeling that something is missing.

But as you looked to your left, there he stood, your eyes widened in surprise and you shake your head.

'stop, he's not here anymore, don't imagine things and pull yourself together y/n. he's gone.' you remind your self, trying so hard to not take a double look to check, but you couldn't hold your self so you looked. this time hoping he'd be there

you saw him.

again.

then the reality comes crashing down as you looked at him.

you froze. you stared at the blonde boy.

Newt.

your eyes locked at the sight your seeing. it's really him.

"Hey what's wrong?" Minho asked looking at you concerned.

You stood there, still frozen.

"Did you change your mind? do you not want to eat pancakes?" Minho asked

You finally found your words, and say what was holding your voice stuck in your throat. "that's... newt?"

his eyes fall to the direction your looking at. it took him a second to process it was really him as you both stood frozen.

Newt. The blonde boy. The love of your life. The one that died that night, is now running fast towards the two of you. He hugged you both tightly.

Thomas stared at him with surprise from afar, dropping his glass of water and run to our direction, hugging newt tightly as the corner of his eyes start to water.

Minho and Thomas asking him many 'how' questions as he replied "I'll answer all of your bloody questions later" his british accent ringing in your ears, making you cry. Is this really newt? but how?

"Newt.." the sound of your voice made him turn to you and smiled lovingly with tears in his eyes.

"Hey gorgeous" He opened his arms to hug you, you jump into his arm immediately feeling his warmth, solid and everything, He held you tightly against his chest.

You buried your head in his neck and your tears wetting your cheeks, tears drenching his shirt. you smiled a little. for the first time your truly smiled after you lost him. you hugged him tighter, still wanting to feel the warmth of his body and his touch as you feel him pressing his lips into your forehead and the smell of his body that you missed so much is enough to make you feel like you're home.

anywhere with him is home.

"Newt.."

"I'm here"

you finally pulled away, to look at him. those dark brown pair of eyes, his caramel colored hair that turned to a vibrant shade of gold when the sun hits his hair. oh how much you missed them.

it feels so unreal seeing him right now in front of you, you don't know if it was real or not.

he smiled at you again. that smile. the one you missed so much.

you hugged him again, this time with your head on his chest, he held your head in one hand and and your back in his other, pulling you closer and putting his head on top of yours gently.

you pulled away again, running your thumbs on his cheek and lips, realizing all the black veins, black eyes and popping veins we're gone. he's back to normal.

Minho spoke up, "But how? you..you we're stabbed and you died,"

"Yeah, we see you died that night in her arms, it doesn't make any sense" Thomas added.

"To be bloody honest, i don't know how myself. but i think y/n's blood touched my wound when we fought that night and it killed the virus and i survived, then i woke up surrounded by people, cured, and they led me here." he finished, looking at them.

"who we're those people?" thomas asked

"who ever those people are, I'm happy to have you back shuck face." minho laughed.

"and i'm happy to be back" newt smiled at us all, before whispering into my ear, "we've got a lot to talk about" he grinned.

Thomas glanced at minho, signalling to him to give you both time to talk. minho nods in response. "You must be hungry newt, let's make more food for them, and give them space to talk alone" Minho whispered the last few words and left with the others leaving you and newt alone.

"We'll meet you there later!" newt called back and turned to you, grinning.

he sit down at the sand, and pat the sand next to him, signalling you to sit next to him, so you did. he looked directly to you, breaking the silence.

"i miss you"

your eyes widened at the sudden confession, your eyes start to heat up and tears start to flood your eyes making your vision blurry.

"sorry, i didn't mean to make you cry" he looks at you softly and wipes your tears gently.

"you don't know how much i miss you and how hard it was losing you" you started. "it felt so weird without you here, it's like something's missing" you gazed at your lap

"i'm sorry for that night, i should've told you and try to work it out together like you said, but it was the best way to protect you" he started

you nodded as you understand the word 'that night' referring to the night you both argued because he hide the fact he was infected and you both broke up because of it.

"that night when i finally turned to a crank, i know i shouldn't have attacked you, but something in me is screaming for your blood, and in the end i hurt you, i'm sorry love." he whispered. your surprised at the last word, he used to call you that before you both broke up.

you forced a chuckle. you definitely missed being called that. you smiled at him "i understand and yes, i forgive you newtie. i always will."

he felt his heart skipped a beat at the familiar nickname you called him

newtie.

his words stuck in his throat as he tried to get him self to continue say the things he was planning to say but he failed miserable, after a second he finally forced out the words.

"and i know we had a bloody argument and we're not together anymore but i still love you y/n. i didn't mean the words i say when i told you i don't love you anymore and i don't need you caring about me, i still love you so freaking much and i really love it when your care for me, so..."

his voice getting quieter as he looks at you nervously, trying to observe your expression as his voice stuck in his throat for the second time. he lowered his head looking down at his lap, trying to find the perfect words to tell to you

'it's now or never'

"listen, the point of what i'm trying to say is, do you think it's too late to continue what we had?" he glanced at you and made eye contact with you

you chuckled at his nervousness. "so you're trying to say that you want to get back with me and continue our relationship?"

"if you still love me, well yeah" you chuckled

"i still love you newt"

"then, it's a yes?" he tilt his head and grinned at you, happy with your answer and now hoping you would agree to his offer

"why would i refuse?" you answered.

"bloody hell, come here" he smiled, he leans up, closer to you and kiss you. you kiss him back.

he hugs your body as your arms snaked its way to his neck and your fingers run to his hair, your fingers tangled in his hair. he pulled your body more closer, colliding yours with his until it you can feel his body warmth.

you both pulled away when minho suddenly yelled "Y/N, FOOD'S READY

you turn to newt. "You ready to meet everyone else?"

he nods. "yeah, let's go"

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you walk in together, and you see the moment everybody's faces turn into shock except for minho and thomas, who was smiling widely at you both. you guessed that both of them haven't told the other's.

gally's eyes fall to yours, as if he's asking confirmations from you. you nod at him and smiled. gall's eyes widened and start to water.

"hey?" newt gives a little wave nervously as he watched the others exchanging glances with each other, and then gally, frypan and the other's moved, leaving the table they're sitting in and charged towards newt with a hug as newt happily hugs all of them tightly and didn't let go until thomas butt's in.

"alright everyone, let's eat as much as we want as a celebration AND STOP THE HUGGING SESSION, newt haven't eaten anything at all today"

they roared with laughter and finally pulled away from the hug.

standing beside you, minho chuckled and whispered, "you're happy aren't you?"

you smiled and nodded at him. "is it that obvious?"

"yes y/n, it's so obvious" you both laughed.

suddenly you feel someone hold your hand. you turned to see newt grinning before he pulls you into a sudden deep kiss as everybody else laughed. you both pulled away after everyone yells 'do it somewhere, you love birds!!' and your ears turn into a shade of red as newt's lips turn into a wide grin

[h0neysp1ce]

Hii

Sorry if this is weird but please can I request some headcanons with Kaveh, Alhaitham and Diluc (Also if you don't write Diluc, Tighnari is good instead) where the Reader has extremely painful period cramps, like to the point where they need to vomit and can't move 🙏

Not at all! here you go 💚🫶

˚୨୧⋆｡˚  Summary: ↑ How does he take care of his s/o when they have very bad cramps?

Characters: Kaveh, Alhaitham, Diluc, Tighnari Tags: Established Relationship (all Separate) Fluff?? Constellation: Head canons Warning(s): Mentions of Period symptoms, nothing graphic reader can be read as gender neutral or Female (Had no clue which one to put so I put both) ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ 

A/N: I tried my best, apologies if Diluc's and Tighnari's Parts are shorter, and hopefully I went into enough detail as you asked , also I hope I titled it in the most un akward way possible, This was my first time writing something like this so I hope its not to bad ^^"

sorta Proof read (will edit later)

Word Count: 1243

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ ｡ﾟ•┈｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა

Kαʋҽԋ 🎨

This man is worried about you the moment you start not feeling great.

There's no need to feel embarrassed or ashamed; he understands that this is something you go through.

It’s nothing new, really. You've been open with him about your cramps being bad, and he understands that.

The first time this happened, it freaked him out because he thought something was wrong with you until you told him what it was, and he calmed down.

Kaveh: "Alright, I'm back with the heating pad and snacks."

You: "Kaveh, aren’t you supposed to be out working with a client today?"

Kaveh: "Oh no, I canceled all my work for today. I’m not leaving you alone and unattended."

You: "KAVEH!!? No, don’t worry about me. You should worry about your work. I know it's stressful and—"

Kaveh: "No, you're more important right now. Please, let me take care of you."

If you end up getting sick, like feeling like you’re about to vomit at any moment, he’ll be there with you, holding your hair back if you're actively getting sick, rubbing circles into your back, and staying with you in the bathroom until you feel better and can get back to bed.

Knowing that you can’t move much in this state, he'll take it upon himself to get you things. Want food? He’ll make you some. Want cuddles? He’ll gladly cuddle you.

He’ll have medicine ready for you along with a glass of water and a heating pad.

This man pampers you 100%.

It pains him to see you hurting and not feeling your best. You won’t see it, but he tends to have a frown on his face when you're hurting. He’s doing everything he can, but he can’t take your pain away completely, and it makes him sad.

He’d take away the pain and discomfort from you if he could.

Most of the time is spent cuddling. It doesn’t matter to him; whatever makes you most comfortable and relieves at least some of your pain is what matters to him.

He’ll kiss your face all over, along with some hand kisses, giving positive affirmations that you’re going to get through it, that it’s going to be okay, that you’re very strong, and that it’s only temporary.

His voice goes soft when talking to you, running a hand gently through your hair. He’ll be looking at you often, always asking if you're alright or if you need anything.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ ｡ﾟ•┈｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა

Aʅԋαιƚԋαɱ 📚

He’s read plenty of books to know what you’re going through and the best treatments for it.

He knows what it is without even having to ask you, as you’re wrapped around the toilet suffering.

He’ll sit with you and wait until you feel slightly well enough to get back to resting.

He will be honest with you and say that he doesn’t mind or care; there’s no shame or embarrassment. It’s a normal thing you go through.

If you let him, he’ll use his hands to place them on your abdomen. He has warm hands, and he’ll keep them there if it helps relieve the pain and discomfort, even just a little bit.

He’ll pull off his cape and put it on you if that helps comfort you in some way.

If you’re lying down, he’ll make sure to pull you closer. Usually, he doesn’t like being so close, but he’s doing this for you because he cares.

You: "Alhaitham, am I burdening you?"

Alhaitham: "I've told you multiple times already that you’re not a burden. You just need help and assistance right now, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Now go back to sleep." (says this while reading a book)

He’ll carry you or pick you up and take you places since moving by yourself is a no-go.

He’ll be reading a book while you lay with him. In reality, he’s keeping an eye on you, not reading a page of that book, just pretending.

This man would take the pain away from you in a heartbeat if he could.

He’ll be with you the entire time through this tough period.

He’ll make sure you take your medicine every few hours as directed.

In a modern AU, he’d likely turn on a movie or something for you, and you two would stay in bed mostly. He’ll also get you anything you need, don’t worry.

He’s still able to do his job remotely from home as the Akademiya's Grand Scribe. What, did you think this man was going to work while you weren’t feeling your best? Nope! He’s going to take care of you because that’s what partners do.

Even if he shows little affection normally, he’ll make sure to give you some during this time.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ ｡ﾟ•┈｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა

Dιʅυƈ 🍷

He’s more than aware when he wakes up and finds you not up, as you’re usually up before him.

He’ll ask you, and when you confirm his suspicions, he’ll grab some things (food, whatever you want if you just ask him).

He’ll also make a quick trip to the Tavern and have someone take over for him for a couple of days since he’s going to focus on you right now.

If you allow him, he’ll heat up his hands with his Pryo Vision and place them on your abdomen to ease your cramps slightly. If you’re feeling sick at any point, just tap on him or signal him, and he’ll make sure you get to the bathroom.

He’ll always take one of your hands, pepper kisses all over, and look at you while the two of you are in bed as you relax.

This man is a gentleman (all the men are gentlemen).

Your well-being is a main priority for him.

He’ll shower you with affection and pamper you lots.

He’ll always talk with you and explain that if you need anything at all, just tell him. It’s no bother nor burden. He’ll always assure you that you’re his partner and that he cares about you, giving plenty of reassurance if you need it.

All his duties will be resumed once you’re feeling better completely, so don’t worry about him being behind or anything. He still manages things remotely from Dawn Winery.

Diluc: "Please do tell me if you need anything, anything at all."

You: "Of course I will, Diluc. I love you."

Diluc: "Love you too."

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ ｡ﾟ•┈｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა

Tιɠԋɳαɾι 🌻

He’ll brew up some tea or have you drink a glass of water first when you confirm with him that it’s that time.

He has plenty of medicine and herbs on hand to ease your cramps and maybe the nausea caused by them.

He’ll let you have snacks but will also make sure you have balanced meals, going for the healthy approach.

Don’t be afraid of your mood changes or swings; he understands. He’s not going to be mad if you end up snapping at him.

He’ll try to limit his job as a Forest Ranger so he can keep an eye on you and take care of you.

The first time it happened, he thought you’d come down with some sort of sickness until you told him what was happening. He understood and went out of his way to help you (though he did end up going on a ten-minute ramble about what you already knew and didn’t need to hear).

If you have back pain, he’ll rub your back for you. If you’re feeling any other discomfort, he’ll do whatever he can to help.

He also tends to give you face kisses and affection. He’s a cuddle person and doesn’t mind you being clingy (none of the men mind you being clingy).

Tighnari: "Now remember what I told you, [Name]?"

You: "Tighnari, we’ve been over this five times already." sigh

Tighnari: "I just need to make sure you’re retaining the information."

You: "This is going to take a while."

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ﾟ ｡ﾟ•┈｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა

[kyokutsu-sama]

_____________________________

The captain's sword

A/n: I've been writing about this man on ao3, I've already posted two works there and I'll post this one there later. This captain makes me feel things🤭(Seriously bro, there's something about men with tough personalities that attracts me...)

Tw: NSFW content

_____________________________

You wondered how you had managed to get to the base without falling along the way due to exhaustion. Your mana was extinct as was your energy, all you wanted to do at that moment was pass out on your soft mattress and sleep for the whole week but it seems that you had other plans before going to sleep.

You saw Yami at the counter and wanted to kill him after he sent you on a mission that almost cost you your life.

"There you are, you scoundrel !" You said, approaching the counter. "You were drinking and smoking while I was there dying, weren't you?"

"Who do you think you're talking to?" He looked at you with a raised eyebrow and an unfriendly expression on his face, as if he wanted to intimidate you but you were too mad to be afraid

"With my stupid captain, Yami Sukehiro" You said, sitting next to him and he looked at you for a long moment in silence, the cigarette smoke leaving his lips after he took a long sigh. He undoubtedly liked your defiant air when you dared to speak like that, strong women were his type and he was definitely going to play that game.

"Your tongue is very sharp tonight, I see" He slightly curved his lips upwards

"I thought you liked tough girls with sharp tongues. What's the problem now? Can't you handle them?" You teased and he closed his eyes with another long sigh

"Here, drink" He said, extending the large mug of beer to you

"You didn’t answer my question"

"Drink" He insisted and since you knew he was stubborn, you decided to do what he said

There was no one else there, you thought it was strange since they would also like to be there drinking or breaking everything but maybe they were already asleep. It was late and you were supposed to be sleeping too but since your dear captain was there, you weren't just going to turn your back on him. He enjoyed your company even if you were mad at him and you also couldn't ignore him when he was offering you drinks and company too.

Anyone who didn't know him at that moment would think he was a calm person, with half-closed eyes, a lit cigarette in the corner of his mouth, some strands of his black hair falling over his face making him even more attractive and an expressionless face. However, he was not someone to mess with and everyone there knew it. You also knew and that's why you pushed his buttons until he lost his patience, which was little and led him to do crazy things. He also did the same to you, teasing you every day until you went crazy. Deep down you knew he has a tender heart when it comes to you, even if he teases you twenty-four hours, even if he gives you more difficult training because he believes in you and your abilities and that you can surpass your limits, even though he was a stubborn and short-tempered at times, you loved him with all his flaws. You knew that inside his little heart was you and he himself admitted that to you a lot of times.

You placed the empty mug on the table and looked at him, who still seemed focused on a random corner of the room.

"I finished drinking, are you going to answer me now?" You said, looking at him

"Drink another one"He replied, taking a drag on his cigarette, still without looking at you

"Yami, are you testing my patience ?" You raised an eyebrow and tilted your head slightly to the side

"You're the one testing my patience, princess. Did the mission go well or do I need to go in there and take out the other guy for you?”

"No, I already did what had to be done, I even broke the sword you gave me last week"

"You broke what?" He looked at you as you placed the remaining part of the sword on the table. "Honey, I hadn't even finished paying, in fact, I didn't even pay mine, let alone yours"

“Well, Yami, it looks like you're going to have to start saving more money instead of betting everything on gambling like you always do, even with your clothes” You looked away in the last words, remembering when he came back from long nights completely naked after having bet them on gambling

“So what? My nudity is nothing new to others... and not to you either" He gave a little smile and you felt a slight blush on your cheeks."Now, regarding the sword, leave it to me. I'll see if I can find some money to pay this shit for the next hundred years"

"And see if the next one is of quality"

"It's not about quality when you don't know how to wield it"

"What did you say, Yami?" You looked at him with a threatening look

"Nothing" He said, raising hands in a kind of surrender

"See? You don't even have the balls to repeat what you said to my face, it just proves that you can't handle a strong woman like me" You teased and got up from the bench but he grabbed your arm turning you towards him

"Princess, you're making me lose my mind with all that tough personality. Come here" He picked you up and put you on his shoulder so easily and quickly that you make you scream at his sudden movement

"Yami, what are you doin--" He slapped your butt as he carried you to his room."Are you punishing me now?”

“And it’s just the beginning, baby" He laughed and entered the bedroom

He threw you on the bed and closed the door, you looked at him as he put out his cigarette and looked you up and down, wondering where he would start.

"Why are you looking at me? I thought you were a man of action"

"Be quiet brat, I'm concentrating" He said as he took off his tattered black cape and shirt.

"Brat? What happened to ‘princess’?"

"They will evolve for worse if you keep talking" He said climbing onto the bed and holding your face in his hand

Yes, it would, you knew it would. The beautiful nicknames he gave in the beginning would be the future dirty talk. It was only making the heat in the room rise as well as the heat building up between your thighs. However, he also had to be punished for the mission he had given you and you would take care of it.

"What’s wrong? Why aren't you laughing now?" He asked with a low voice close to your face and you blushed

He would tease you until the end, until you couldn't handle it anymore, take you to the limits and even beyond that. That was his type.

He pushed you onto the mattress and got on top of you, removing your clothes and you helped him, his strong and hurried hands roaming your body. He leaned towards you and kissed your lips, taking your breath away with heat and strength, you hugged him close to you, taking your hands to run down his back. His hand slid between your thighs and stroked the wetness that increased the more he touched you, he pulled your lip between his teeth before settling on your neck and sucking the skin there. You could already feel your sweaty skin and slight goosebumps, you whimpered when he placed his fingers in you and you tight them inside you. The ability that man had to make you forget that you were mad at him moments ago was impressive. You arched your back and both bodies touched, there was no distance between the two and you were delirious with so much proximity. You put a hand to the back of his head, he was still marking your skin and tasting every bit of it.

The fingers moving in and out and scissoring, opening more space inside you as you writhed and moaned beneath his huge body covering yours. His thumb brushing against the sensitive bud and sending shivers throughout your body, making your legs tremble. Your eyes rolled back in pleasure just at the feeling of his lips kissing your neck. You were close but you held yourself back so you didn't have to come before you could take control of the situation and play with him a little too. You grabbed his forearm and removed his fingers from you and turned him around, sitting on top of him, resting your hands on his chest while he looked at you, intrigued that you had changed roles.

"You're feeling very confident today" He joked, placing his hands on your waist

"My turn to punish you for giving me such a troublesome mission today" You said taking the belt off his pants to tie his wrists above his head, to prevent him from touching you

"You don't think this will last long, do you?" He chuckled, looking at you and you smiled

"No, but I just need some time for what I'm going to do. Don't worry dear, I'll be gentle with you" You leaned over and placed a kiss on his lips

You knew that he would go along with it because deep down he liked having you on top showing your strength, that turned him on.

You held the waistband of his pants and removed them. You had the beautiful vision of him all naked and with his arms tied above his head and that only made things heat up more. You brought a hand to his dick, stroking it while you looked at him and saw his hands start to fight to free himself, he just wanted you to continue what you were doing because it felt too good.

You spat into the palm of your hand to make back and forth movements as you felt your insides tighten with emptiness and the desire to take him right there but you liked the idea of just watching him suffer a little. Not that he was suffering from your touch but rather the fact that he wanted to grab your hips and bury himself inside you.

"What's wrong, Yami? I can't see your smile right now" You teased, using his words and he bit his lip, seeing the way you were teasing him

"You're a teaser"He said with a hoarse voice and his eyes half-open

Your hand moved faster around him, his hands fought to free themselves again, you weren't sure if he was closer to coming or letting go from the belt and making you pay for it.

He was right when he said that it wouldn't last long, and besides, he wouldn't need to try very hard to get out of that knot.

And it was when you least expected it that one of his hands was already on your wrist, preventing you from doing anything else, you looked at him after being taken by surprise.

He turned you around and placed you under him on the mattress and pinning your wrists above your head with one hand, looking at your panting and flushed face.

It seems like you would have to leave your revenge for another day.

"You found a way to surpass your limits again, did you?" You smiled and he chuckled

"You make me surpass them"

"Good to kno---" You barely finished your sentence and he turned your back to him and lifted your hips up. All that desire of his was making him impatient and with little time for conversation.

"You talk too much" His hand rested on the red skin after slapping your butt. "Just watch me surpass my limits again"

He was quick to place himself inside you and fill your insides to the deepest point, your fingers grabbed the sheets in front of you and your moans were muffled against it.

“You're so tight right now, Y/n”He sighed heavily."Don't tell me you were thinking about me while you were there fighting?"

He placed one hand on the back of your head, keeping your head against the mattress and the other hand on the headboard as he sped up his thrusts. You could barely breathe at that moment, even if you wanted to lean your head back, his strong hand was pressing you and the only thing you could do was feel your legs tremble and whimper every time his body collided against yours. The others would probably hear all those dirty sounds coming from the room but you wouldn't believe that any of them would be stupid enough to complain about it out loud, unless they wanted to move up the date of their death. He removed one hand from the back of your neck and brought it to your clit to make circular movements that made you tighten more and more around him. You felt the butterflies in your stomach intensifying when you came, your legs weakened and your fingers were still holding the sheets with some strength as he filled you with his cum, until you felt it running down your thighs. He withdrew from you and pulled your body back so that you were leaning against his chest, he bent down and kissed your neck while his arms hugged your body from behind making you feel protected from everything.

He could have all that size and be a brute, but he always seemed so clingy and careful with you. It was as if you changed his personality for something different, not very different but at least it softened this man's little heart a little.

"I'm sorry Y/n, I won't let you go on a mission like that alone again." He said kissing the top of your head and tightening his arms around you

"And I think I should also apologize for breaking the sword.”

"Don't worry about it, I'll find another one. Even if it means not seeing my paycheck for months or probably years." He said, laughing

[starrystevie]

it was all supposed to be a joke. they were supposed to be in steve’s backyard with all their friends and family in shitty lawn chairs, holding cans of budweiser and jamming to whatever song eddie was in the mood for that day blasting through the speakers. steve was supposed to be in front of them all in a tuxedo t-shirt and powder blue dress pants, flowers in his hair that had been teased to high heaven and dark black sunglasses to keep out the bright sun. that’s how they had planned it all those years ago when they’d been high and drunk and young and in love.

but somehow instead, the yard is full of flowers and benches that hopper and wayne put together with spare wood for everyone to sit on and there’s an archway at the end of the aisle and soft acoustic songs spilling gently out of the speakers. steve’s still at the front, that was always supposed to happen, but this time he’s wearing an actual tux, light cream with a boutonnière and everything, and his hair is pushed back just so. there’s no flowers in his hair and no sunglasses but it’s cloudy enough of a day where he doesn’t really need them anyway.

they weren't even supposed to do this. there wasn't supposed to be a grand entrance and a walk down the aisle, no flower girls or ring bearers or anything remotely traditional. but what started off as, "well, i wouldn't mind walking down the aisle," and "i think exchanging rings would be cool," and "who cares if it isn't legal, i'm going to marry you anyway damnit," turned into this beautiful day of friends and family and love.

robin’s standing beside him in a tux of her own, pinstripe grey donning a pocket boutonnière that matches nancy’s bouquet, with a few notecards in her hands. and speaking of nancy, she’s heading down the aisle in a flowing dress, and when her eyes catch robin’s, she crinkles her nose before blowing her a kiss. she stands opposite of steve as eddie's not-quite-bridesmaid and grips her bouquet tightly, her eyes never leaving robin's.

and then there's dustin. he's in a tux that matches steve's and he has his curls pushed back with probably too much gel and a tie that suzie got him for their 3rd anniversary. the best thing he's sporting, though, is the smile on his face and the ring box in his hand and the joy in his eyes as he looks out at the crowd. having him there as best man and smelling the cheap cologne he wears so he seems more grown up calms steve's ever beating heart enough to where he doesn't think he'll throw up from nerves anymore.

all of their loved ones are surrounding them in clothes steve’s never seen before but he couldn’t care at all what they’re wearing because they’re all smiling wide and bright at him. he catches himself rocking back and forth on his feet so he shakes out his hands and holds them behind his back to distract himself. his stomach is rolling with waves or butterflies and when he catches joyce's eye in the front row, she mimes taking in a deep breath which he instantly copies. the soft grin she sends in return tells him that he thinks it could actually work to settle him. mothers have that healing way about them.

he’s never been good with weddings, always fidgeting in a too tight suit his mom picked out, but he never thought he’d be this antsy at his own.

steve's just about to give up and sprint down the aisle to get eddie so they can run away together and leave nerves and or butterflies behind him, but then the music stops. he sees lucas changing out the tapes quickly, giving a thumbs up to mike who throws one to will who runs back behind the shed to where he knows eddie is waiting and when will pops his head back out to run back to his seat, it hits him.

he's getting married.

steve doesn't have time to think about it anymore than he already has been for the last 8 years because eddie's coming around the corner of the shed.

'here comes the sun' is playing out over the speakers, soft and perfect, and eddie's smiling, wide and beautiful, and steve can't help but mirror it back to him. the clouds overhead seem to hear them, hear the song and hear their hearts beating in time with each other, because as soon as eddie gets to the aisle, bright warm rays of sunlight peak out and make the rhinestones he demanded line the lapels of his own black tux shine like real diamonds.

steve stops breathing. he swears he does, and he knows his family are all feeling the same way. he can hear a few gasps, hears joyce muttering what she thinks is a silent, "oh my god," in hop's ear, and watches how wayne stands up just a bit straighter from his front row seat.

eddie glides down the aisle like the drama king he is, soaking in the looks from everyone they care about and soaking in the sun that seems to come out only for him. it's like the sun knows he's a star, too, and wants to come out to be with one of it's own. eddie's always been sunshine and starlight and a blinding thing to look at and take in. he's the light, steve's the moth, and a few clouds on their wedding day could never change it.

"well, that was insanely good timing," eddie whispers to steve once he reaches him. his grin softens and he brings up a hand to wipe gently at the tear tracks on steve's cheeks. "hi, baby."

and steve can do nothing but choke out a laugh, catching eddie's hand in his own so he press a kiss to his palm. he thinks he can feel eddie's heartbeat against his lips and, even if it's his brain playing tricks on him, he likes the sentiment that it brings. "i love you so fucking much."

it's eddie's turn to get teary-eyed and the sun glints off the tears that fall down his cheek before heading back behind the clouds, dotting quick-to-fade sparkles on his face like a wedding present.

steve kisses him. he can't help it. it's nothing but a fast press of lips, watery smile to watery smile, and everyone is cheering except for robin.

"hey! it's not time for that yet," she says with a pretend scowl, arms pressing to each of their chests to keep them apart. it's enough to leave nancy giggling where she stands behind eddie, her laugh like bells bouncing off of the trees surrounding them. "just give me like ten minutes and we'll have you married and you can kiss all you want then."

steve swears he can hear mike groan at that which cause him to grin which cause eddie to grin back and then they're holding hands like it's the only way to get through the next ten minutes. and it might just be the only way to get through it. knowing them, if they didn't hold on tight, one of them would make a move first and there'd be hands around waists and fingers tangled in hair and robin would hate them forever because she wouldn't get to do her speech.

it's after vows are shared, after rings are on fingers, after kisses are pressed to lips and cheeks and temples and hands and everything else they can quickly reach, that the two of them get some peace. everyone is inside eating snacks and drinking cheap champagne, and it goes unspoken that they're going to take some time for themselves. take some time to bask in their new maybe not-so-legally real but as real as could ever be in their hearts marriage.

they make their way, hand in hand like they've always been meant to do, to a table set up for them. eddie pops a bottle of champagne that they pass back and forth between themselves as they share cheesy smiles and champagne-laced kisses. and it's as they look into each other's eyes, fingers lacing so their rings clink softly against each other, that the sun peaks out to say hello once more.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

On my knees BEGGING for more of off the grid!König.

This is sooo self indulgent you wouldn't even believe 🥲🌲

He doesn't need to keep himself in shape, splitting and hauling wood all day does the job + he hikes a wide perimeter around your cottage to check the traps. Fixes everything from your old Jeep to the roof of your small house that luckily stays warm even during winters because the logs he picked are extra thick.

You still beg for more cuddles in the morning, not wanting to leave your warm nest of a bed. König sometimes has to rip you off him because seriously, Liebling, he has so much to do – only, his Achilles' heel is you, so the giant beast of a man tumbles back to bed to squeeze and tease you more than a few times before strolling to prepare some coffee on the stove.

Finally, he can walk around naked when there's no neighbours... The only "con" is that you're still teasing him about it, and bullying – when it comes from you – has a tendency to make him hard. Now look at what you did, woman... Can't a man even brew his coffee in peace? How is he supposed to get anything done with a boner like this??

If you throw a pillow at him – he's the one being indecent here, waving that horse dick around and almost poking someone's eye out with it! – he catches it and marches back to the bed to punish you. The punishing session makes you cum so loudly he has to kiss you silent, saying you're going to make him deaf one of these days, but you know that he's only pleased. In a quiet, calm place like this, your screams are only the music of angels to him, evidence of how good he is at keeping you warm, fed and satisfied.

After fucking you nice and tame he can finally start his day without distractions, whistling by the time he puts on the sturdy workpants and searches for his shirt. It's just so typical, him accusing you of distracting him while walking on cloud nine right after dipping his dick in you... But you're not complaining: still lying in the bed, happy as a worm after rain from what he did to you.

It's unfair that he's walking around like lovemaking was only another job scratched off his to-do list while you feel like you just got hit by a bear. Nasty man, who's in far too good shape compared to you... But then the nasty man brings you coffee to bed, and calls you a spoiled princess – living off the grid was supposed to be hard work but here you are, lounging on your soft down pillows like a queen while he does all the chopping and fishing and fucking :)

You know the man is more than happy when he feels useful and needed, and you do your share too in the garden that is simply flourishing this year, but you still blurt out that he should be grateful for having a woman to keep him warm. No sane girl would ever come to this secluded place and live with a horny nudist like him...!

König just kneels next to the bed and whispers in your ear: "It's a good thing you're not sane then..."

[k2ntoss]

DIRTY LITTLE SECRET

tw ⭒ swearing, angst, couple argument, mean jason todd (he's kind of a jerk with his words but uhhhh, he's cute), jason todd x fem!reader and okayyyyyy that's everything i think and some fluff sandwiched with more angst at the end bc i can't leave this just like that

a/n ⭒ song based fanfics are my weakness, i'm so sorry i just can't stop listening to certain songs just to write something related - the all-merican rejects, dirty little secret here okayyyy

i stopped counting words, sorry lmao

jason has been a nice boyfriend, so long he has never raised his voice or got angry when there was a little problem, he has taken you out on a few nice dates but there was something off.

you knew basically nothing about his surroundings, not his family nor his friends, probably seen once any of his close class mates and before you could go to say hi he was next to you, it was almost as if he didn't wanted you near them but you tried to push it away. for over three months.

you've had enough of pretty much all of that situation, dating jason for almost a year, going on one or two dates every two months and just getting texts from him, probably a short movie night if he had any time for you and it was making you feel so little and less for him, what was the problem with taking you with his family? or asking you to hang out with his friends? because he made some time to spend a few hours with them, drink something and have fun but there wasn't place for you with them, with him.

"jay... do you think we can go to the movies this weekend?" you ask him, sitting on one of the stools you had around your living room when he was spending some of his spare time with you "there is this new movie..." you trail off, trying to get his attention.

"don't think we can do that, doll, already made plans" he looks at your for a couple of seconds with a small frown and you're thinking that maybe you are the problem, maybe you're not enough for jason and he knows it, he's nice with you and the way he looks at you, how he brushes your hair when he walks next to you before sitting on your couch.

"you going out with your friends?" you ask softly, receiving a nod and a soft hum from him "maybe i could join you, i don't know your friends..." your voice is still low, calm but there's a clear intention on it and as soon as you present the idea jason scoffs.

there something in the way he does it that makes you feel like a spark ignited inside of your chest, between a bolt of anger and a sharp pain, what was that supposed to mean?

"you don't wanna know them, trust me, princess" jason trails off, almost lying on your couch as he looked at his phone "not your kind of people..." he whispers and it makes you near explode.

"what is that supposed to mean, jason?" there's an edge to your voice that makes him sit straight, he looks at you and places his hands on his lap "it means exactly what i said, my friends are not your kind of people, why?" he shrugs, as if it wasn't that much of a big deal.

"and what is my kind of people exactly? not so interesting? not as good as you?" you start, the light in your eyes replaced by something else and jason noticed it "is your family also like that? not the kind of people i am around?"

"exactly that" he says, simply and blunt, he looks at you unamused as he crosses his arms over his chest and leans back "not your kind of people either, now stop the tantrum, okay?" and for a second you are speechless because he has never said something like that.

"why can't i meet your family? it's been almost a year, do they at least know you are dating someone?" you ask, not letting go of it just like that makes him sigh in frustration.

"why would they have to know? i don't see your point, y/n." and as soon as the pet names stop you know that he's not happy talking about this "i haven't told anyone, okay? and i don't plan on doing it, i have my reasons."

"maybe they have to know because i'm your damn girlfriend" your town grows a bit louder, not longer sitting on the stool you walk until you're in front of jason "maybe they have to know because what the hell have you've been doing the days you spend here instead of with them?" the way jason looks at you isn't helping, his eyes are fixed on the ceiling and his lips are pressed on a fine line.

"i don't want to tell them, okay? i can't see a damn issue besides you wanting everyone to know i have a girlfriend and that's not a big deal" he trails off, his hand moving in a motion that made your mood go worse.

"it is a fucking big deal, jason!" when you snap at him he turns to look at you, eyebrows raised in surprise bit it quickly changes to a expression of pure tiredness "we barely have a date every full moon, you text me whenever you remember i exist and your friends don't even know i'm your girlfriend" you number with your fingers, your voice shaky because your emotions taking over were too much.

"i do what i can, i don't have that much free days to waste my time here!" he snaps back and his words hit hard but that's just the start "i still can't get why you have to make a fuzz out of it, it's enough with both of us knowing we're dating"

"wasting your time, fine" you mutter before turning around, back facing him as you walk to your room and you can make the sound of his steps following you "it's so fucking funny because no one knows i'm your girlfriend so you get a lot of girls flirting with you and i have to deal with it but as soon as any of my friends gets too touchy with me at the campus you're calling me" and it's true, jason can't stand seeing other people so close to you and so freely because that's something he can't do and he does had his reasons.

"are you really gonna make a problem out of this?" he asks, it's like he isn't able to wrap his mind around of it, how much you wanted everyone to know that someone like him laid his eyes on you, that he liked you from all of the girls it was you "you're the only one that needs to know"

"but at least give me a goddamn reason for me to be a stupid secret, jason" you are almost crying, voice struggled and eyes burning from how much you wish things were at least a little different "is it so bad it's me who you're dating? am i not enough?" your words hurt, not just you but also him because he would love to show you off but his life won't allow it.

he won't risk you to get too deep into his shit, it's enough you deal with his presence and his absence too.

"that's not a game you would like to play, you'll find out shit you don't wanna know" he warns you, jason's voice is now stern and his eyes are no longer soft, he stands towering over you as he seems to be holding back his tongue "i can't tell anyone and you don't even try because that would be so dumb of you" he sounds absolutely mad and he is, but with himself.

jason hates this, he knows that maybe he's breaking your heart and he despises his whole being for that. he loves you and that's why he can't drag you into his world, all the pain and worry it would bring to you would be a burden you don't deserve when you're the only one who brings something nice into his days.

"you're still not giving me one single reason, i don't even know if you're ashamed or what the hell is going on" your voice breaks and he sees the tears pooling on your lashes, he wants to hold you and tell you how much he loves you but maybe he has to break you a little to keep you safe.

"i don't fucking want them to know about you, that's all! is it so hard to wrap your head around it? do i need to spell it out for you like a fucking child?" he's yelling in a way that draws your tears away, wet trails on your cheeks "it's stupid, you know? i'm wasting my fucking time here when i could be doing something else"

you see him passing his hands through his hair, desperate and frustrated "i thought this would be different but you had to decide to get on my nerves and be a pain in the ass, is this what you expect me to take with my family? a brat like you that can't take a no for an answer?"

he is cursing his name in his head, he sees how your heart shatters into pieces and the way your hands fall flat on your sides, tears falling silently through your cheeks.

"do i need to get you a damn banner to announce it? take you out so you can scream it out loud? you've got to be joking" he scoffs, jason outs a show for you. a show of breaking your heart, making you feel so stupid for expecting to be important enough for him.

"get out" your words tremble and he stops to look at you, there's a brief glimpse of regret on his eyes but it vanishes in a second. "i don't want you here, get out of my place" you point every word, crying but still angry at him. the sharp pain in your chest is making it hard to breath and it shows on the gasps you let out as he walks out of the room.

"i hope that later tonight you regret everything you've said" he hears you, his chest aching because he wants so bad to erase each word he said.

"i regret a lot of things, y/n" he says harshly, looking at you intently before he leaves. just like that you're left alone in your apartment, crying and letting yourself fall onto the floor.

night falls like that, rain pouring heavily and it muffles your sobs while you lie on your couch, hugging a pillow and hiding your face because you've been crying without rest since jason left. the headache you feel is killing you but there's no will to get up to take a pill.

on the other hand, jason drives around the city. he has been around your block a few times wondering if he should go back and hold you but he shrugs and leaves, you said you didn't wanted him there so it would have done things worse. jason also looks at his phone, thinking about calling or texting you but he decides is better if he doesn't.

until he stops thinking or at least he thinks he did, he stands outside your door with his copy of the keys on his hand and it's too late when he snaps back into reality because he's already on the doorway. it's almost midnight and the lights are all off, not even the tv is on but he listens clearly to your soft sobs and the sounds of you shifting on your place.

"i told you i didn't wanted you here" you croack, voice hoarse and raspy from how much you've been crying your lungs out. his heart breaks when he turns on the lights and sees your red eyes, puffy and still teary.

"i know... but i couldn't leave you like that" there was the jason todd you knew, his voice was soft and there was a tenderness to his eyes that always made you sigh "i said a lot of shit today and you have no idea how much i hate myself for it" he starts before walking towards you.

he shakes his head when you try to sit on the couch, making you stay still as he lets his body fall sit on the floor and reaches a hand to brush a few strands of messy hair out of your face, he sighs when you pull away refusing his touch.

"i don't wanna know, jason" he wants to kiss your forehead when you snuggle yourself a little more against the pillow but he knows it's not the right moment for it. not when he was losing you.

"but i need to tell you... there are a lot of things about me that you don't know and you are different from my family and friends, baby" his hand finds a way to ylur cheek, cupping it gently as he wipes away a few tears "and that's not bad because you're better than any of them, you're better than me anf right now i'm so damn sure i don't really deserve someone like you" his words are full of meaning, that you can feel it because jason has clear eyes for you, green pretty eyes that had always allowed you to stare into his soul to let you understand his feelings.

"i could never be ashamed to show you off but you have to understand i'm not a good person and letting anyone know how much you mean to me... i can't risk losing the only good thing i have" and it makes you feel weird, part of your brain tells you to kick him out because his words are not real.

but your heart is beating fast, the way jason looks at you and his voice feeling like a warm embrace that keeps you safe from the hard world, there's no pain when he's next to you "i don't know what you're talking about, jason, this just doesn't feel right"

"i've let you into my life, everything i am is an open book for you because i trust you" trying to calm down your words sound a bit more steady, not so broken when you look up at jason "because i love you and i want to share with you everything that i am, is it that i'm asking for too much?"

"that's not– you're not asking for too much, princess... you deserve the world laid at your feet but it's hard for me to let you into a world that you probably won't like" he says, looking away from you as if he felt shame about who he was "what if i let you in and you can't love who i really am?" his eyes bore into yours again, you can see the pain and fear on them.

jason can't stand thinking about losing another loved one because of his life.

[strawberryblue-blog]

Babysitter —Ruben Dias.

summary: Being Carlota's shared babysitter with Ruben has never been so difficult.

warnings: none. enemies to lovers, curses, cute, soft, some jealousy, etc.

words count: +2.5k

#SEXYNOTE: HI!!! I really apologize for disappearing again, i already finished my first semester and i'm back for you 💌 Thank you for all the support while i was gone, love you 🩷

Soirée music played in the place as you talked animatedly with your date, drinking an expensive red wine cellar that you had saved for a special reason and laughing when George talked to you about his life.

Today you had decided to bring your date home and prepare something to eat, quietly and thoughtfully, to get to know your co-worker better, who had insisted on taking you out to dinner but when you had another plan in mind, he modestly agreed.

A few months ago he had come to your job as a finance manager at the company you worked for, these last few weeks you had been getting to know each other better and you were happy with your new relationship. You were really hoping that you could make something happen, because George was a gentleman and you liked him a lot.

So after welcoming him into your home, you were now sitting on the couch, after dinner, drinking and chatting about yourselves, getting to know each other a little better. There was no hint of seductive closeness on his part but you tried to laugh at all his jokes and look delighted with his stories so he would notice you had attention. The talk was coming along great, exchanging laughs and melodious glances. Maybe he hadn't approached you but you could tell he was looking at you, he was being nice and you really enjoyed the time with him.

Until the doorbell rang and you were a little surprised, almost scared. It was quite unusual for someone to come at this hour and even less so if they had not warned you before. You politely excused yourself, confused as to who it was and walked to your door.

Oh no. It couldn't be.

You quickly opened the door when a baby's cries startled your ears and you saw the man standing in front of you, holding the desperately crying child.

"What are you doing here, Ruben?" you asked closing the door behind you, your hands went to the baby to take when the young man handed her to you defeated.

"She won't stop crying, I've done everything but she won't listen to me" you say quickly and you cradle the child trying to calm her down.

"Shhh" you say stroking her back while looking for an explanation from the young man. "You're supposed to take care of her today, it's my day off!" you whisper as you continue to stroke the baby's back and cuddle.

Carlota, the little one only a few months old, cries desperately on your shoulder as you cradle her trying to soothe her but it seems something else was bothering her.

Her watery eyes looked at you as her crying continued to impact your ears, you hated to see her cry and you probably looked like you were going to cry too. It wasn't the right time but you couldn't help but feel sad for her.

"I know but I can't calm her down, I tried for quite a while" he says worriedly. "And I'm not going to bother her parents on their last day of vacation" he replies and you want to punch him.

Damn it. Just now? Ugh!

Carlota is the daughter of Ines, your best friend and the daughter of Bernardo, the best friend of who is standing in front of you. Ruben Dias. A self-centered jerk you can't stand but the two of them are Carlota's godparents and were in charge of being her babysitters for these days, while your best friends and father of this little girl were on a mini "vacation".

"I told you everything you had to do, it was only one day, Ruben!" you say angrily again. Your hand rubs Carlota's back, seeking some comfort for the little girl.

"I did it, Y/n!" he shouts exhaustedly and you shush him.

Your neighbors have probably already heard his screams arguing and clearly the little girl's screams, so you reopen the door to your house and walk in with Carlota in your arms. You need to calm her down or it will be worse in a while.

Damn. For a moment you forget that inside your home was your date and you sigh, cursing slowly when you see him in the living room. George stands up from his place on the couch and looks at you confused as you walk towards him with a little girl in your arms, you think as you try to find the right words to explain the event. Ruben walks in behind you and you can hear him hold back his laughter, mocking you and even though you're not seeing him but you're sure there's a smirk on his face.

"Oh, I get it" you hear Ruben whisper as he sets Carlota's purse on the living room table.

«Don't say anything, please» you plead in your head as you give an apologetic smile to your date, who is still looking at you confused and even a little scared with the whole situation.

"I'm so sorry, George" you apologize to him. "It's an unforeseen emergency..."

"You'd rather have a date than take care your daughter" Ruben's words make you go speechless.

Quickly your eyes dart to him and you can see his gaze enjoying this moment, your teeth squeak as you clench them smiling at him to shut him up.

"No!" you shout quickly but you startle Carlota, who cries loudly again and you have to gently rock her.

"This is a misunderstanding" you tell him quickly.

George opens his mouth to say something and you can see how his face is disfigured, he is somewhat disappointed and surprised, you can even see how he is trying to take things in. You don't judge him, you would be too if your date looks like with a baby out of nowhere. But it's not what he thought.

"It's not what it looks like, she's my..." you try to say but Carlota's desperate scream accompanied by a cry comes again.

You try to calm her down as the little girl hides between your neck and shoulders, curling up. This is chaos, Ruben seems to be enjoying it from his spot as he smirks and you are desperate to calm Carlota down and attend to your date.

"I-I..." you hear him try to say.

"Uh man, she didn't tell you she has a daughter, definitely a red flag" Ruben sneers again.

You're about to explode, Ruben is being a complete idiot for no reason. He needs to shut his mouth immediately before you start crying too.

"It's not my daughter!" you say but to no avail, the baby's screams make anything but understandable and if Ruben keeps talking you're going to kill him right here.

You are beginning to despair. Carlota is still crying and you're starting to suffer for her, your date is about to leave and will probably never call you again and you can see Ruben enjoying the situation as if he planned it. Idiot.

Your date grabs his coat from the seat and starts walking towards the exit without hearing you shouting her name, no way. You hand Carlota to Ruben with a murderous look and run to stop him.

"George, wait!" you yell. "I can explain..." The boy's frightened look looks at you one last time and you see him disappear as the elevator doors begin to close.

Great. Just when you were about to go for more, this happened. Now you were going to have to explain the whole situation to him (if he still wanted to go out with you) but you were sure Ruben had scared him off with this whole misunderstanding.

Damn it, Ruben.

You walk like a murderer into the house, you can see how Ruben cradles Carlota, she is still crying but when she sees you she stretches her arms towards you. You hold her as you walk away towards the kitchen, looking for some peace inside because you are about to murder someone. You open your refrigerator and can see the cold gel pacifier that Ines once left for Carlota. You take it and give it to the little girl, who when she tastes it for a few seconds, her crying starts to slow down.

She was upset because her teeth are starting to grow and sometimes it hurts, Ines had said that the cold gel pacifier helped her and surely Ruben had forgotten it.

Peace and harmony reigns again when you no longer hear crying, Carlota even hugs you as you lead the way back to the living room. You stand in front of Ruben and look at him, trying to find an explanation.

He has a flat smile and a laughing expression as if feeling guilty.

"Oh, I forgot" he mumbles simply and grimaces.

"Are you fucking kidding?" you ask suddenly. "I told you, Ruben. Several times!" you say and your blood boils.

He doesn't answer anything, just takes the girl out of your arms and starts walking towards his things. You call out to him, trying to stop him but he keeps walking away from you.

You want explanations. There is no way he has forgotten that her teeth are growing and that he has her medicine and pacifier cold, even though you told him before you left. You had seen to it that Ruben had everything on hand so that Carlota wouldn't miss anything and you wouldn't be bothered.

"You come and interrupt my date just because Carlota was upset with her teeth, you could have called me" you ask confused. "I left you everything, the food, the bottle, even her gel pacifier for her teeth in your refrigerator with her medicine, I don't understand, I gave you every explanation" you keep saying angry but he ignores you.

He starts to put things away, looking like now he is the one who is in a hurry to leave. You won't let him go so easily. Not without hearing him out first.

"Did you really have to come, Ruben?" you ask would be. You cross your hands on your chest and watch him waiting for his answer, as if you have all the time in the world. "Did you really have to interrupt me?" you insist.

"Is Carlotta an interruption for you?" he questions ignoring your question. Great, he's turning the tables.

His brown eyes intensify as his question makes you frown. His gaze stays glued to yours and you feel a funny feeling in your stomach.

"Of course not!" you squeak in denial. "But I told you I couldn't take care of her today, to call me in case of any emergency" you spit through your teeth, you are angry and very much so.

"Look, Carlota, your aunt would rather put someone in her bed than take care of you" he says lifting the girl in front of his face, who watches him curiously

Carlota lets out a laugh that makes you sigh with love. Even without knowing what he's saying she seems happier than ever now. She is so beautiful.

But you're angry and you won't let him get away with it, even if he's funny.

"I'm seriously, Ruben" you murmur harshly.

"What if Carlota really needed something?" he asks in response. "Would you have let something happen to her just to get a man?" sighs suspiciously.

Oh. There is the problem.

Ruben just wanted to screw up your date. Ideas start to come to your head when you think the most. Had he tried to scare George? Saying Carlota was your daughter, acting like an idiot in front of him. Was he jealous? of you? of your date? He clearly wanted to interrupt you, it wasn't an emergency.

"Are you jealous that i had a date, Ruben?" you ask with an amused grimace. "Why did you say that to George?"you keep insisting.

His gaze weakens and he raises his eyebrows quickly shaking his head. Of course he is. A laugh hides in your throat when you think about it again. There is no way. He just wants to ruin you.

"Ruben..." you say again. "You could have called me" you complain as you throw yourself on the couch.

"I just got scared, she wouldn't stop crying and i didn't know what to do" he says after a while.

"You still should have called me"

"Then Carlota and I will leave if we bother so much" he keeps saying as you roll your eyes at his words.

"Give her to me" you ask stretching your arms out to take her, since they're here at least you're going to enjoy your beautiful niece.

Ruben approaches you slowly, sitting down next to you and reaches for Carlota. As you take her in your arms, your fingers touch Ruben's hands and you feel a shiver down your spine. His eyes meet yours for a few seconds but you break the contact when you quickly move away, standing up, holding the girl in your arms until you lay her on your chest and caress her back as she babbles.

The child's crystallized eyes begin to close as she sits quietly on your chest and you smile helping her to sleep with your caresses and your little melody that you begin to hum. You can't help but be moved by the image, she looks so angelic, asleep in your arms as you gently cradle her.

Behind you you feel an exhausted sigh and you slowly turn around watching Ruben begin to fall asleep on your couch. You hide a smile as you see him there, his body is relaxed and he really does look tired, just as tired as Carlota. Now he looks really calm, so much so that you don't know whether to leave him there. You move a little closer and move his shoulder slowly, he opens his eyes again somewhat startled and looks at you confused.

"Let's go to bed" you whisper carefully so as not to wake the little girl. Ruben smiles somewhat sleepily and you roll your eyes in denial.

You start walking towards your room, taking all the care in the world not to disturb Carlota and when you get to your room, you settle her in her crib (which Ines also left one day) and cover her with her teddy bear blanket. The little girl rests peacefully while you caress her chubby cheeks with tenderness.

You hear Ruben enter the room and you tell him to lie down on the bed, while you take off your shoes. He does the same and settles into your spacious bed.

"You really are desperate to have a man in your bed" he whispers teasingly as you lie down in front of him.

"Fuck you" You roll your eyes again with a giggle. He just keeps saying stupid things but you still sigh rarely.

"I only let you sleep in my bed because you'll be the one to wake up if Carlota cries in the middle of the night" you tease amused.

You don't mind sharing the bed with him today and you know he could sleep perfectly well on your couch but from there he won't hear Carlota's cries from here and tonight you'll make him suffer.

"Good point" he mumbles settling into place to find a comfortable position.

"Goodnight, idiot" you whisper closing your eyes to fall asleep.

"Goodnight, princess" he replies after a few seconds and your body vibrates as you feel his words.

The heat in your cheeks starts to burn and you have to open your eyes, so you say nothing, completely ignoring his greeting, pretending to be asleep. Why is your heart racing in such a hurry? He's just teasing you. Damn it.

After a while of struggling with your thoughts, you open your eyes when you feel a slight male snore and see Ruben resting comfortably in front of you. You carefully stretch out your arm, grabbing the blanket and cover him a bit as you sigh deeply.

Your pulse quickens for some reason as you watch him in detail. You shake your head quickly and want to stop looking at him... but you can't.

[steddieas-shegoes]

Hi! Would it be possible to see the party or the older group see Steve’s father first hand? Like realizing that Steve’s been abused and learning how much shit he goes through on the daily with them and then his family?

This one was so difficult emotionally. I leaned real heavy into the emotional and verbal abuse (the use of a slur does happen), briefly mentioned some past physical abuse, but then the rest was just some supportive Eddie, supportive Robin, supportive kids, and I threw in some supportive Wayne because I can't resist. I hope the soft supportive stuff makes up for what I put Steve through at the beginning! - Mickala ❤️

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

It was supposed to be the first movie night with all of them together post-Vecna, post-Eddie and Max getting out of the hospital, post-almost losing everything.

It was supposed to be relaxing and fun.

It was not.

Just when they all settled with their snacks and drinks, the movie’s opening credits rolling, a car pulled into the driveway.

Steve did a quick headcount of everyone present, wondering if somehow someone was running late.

But everyone was here.

“Why is every light in the house on?” He heard his dad’s voice ask outside the front door.

Shit.

Everyone looked at Steve, eyes wide, but frozen in place, no idea what to do.

Well, he didn’t know what to do either.

Last time he saw his dad was his high school graduation, and that hadn’t ended well. They’d only spoken on the phone twice since then: once when he told him about the mall fire and once about the pool cleaner going out of business.

Before he could think of what to do or say, his dad was walking into the living room.

That was the same scowl Steve got when he didn’t get into college.

Oh boy.

“Steven. Care to explain why I have a house full of children and teenagers?”

He didn’t know what came over him; Maybe it was just a false bravado put on because he knew his dad wouldn’t do anything to him in front of all these people or maybe he just had a thoughtless reaction.

“They’re all teenagers actually. We’re having movie night.”

His dad’s face went nearly purple with rage.

Not just anger. Pure, unfiltered, and completely undeserved rage.

Eddie spoke up first, thankfully distracting the kids from the explosion that was probably about to occur.

“It’s been so nice of Steve to open up his home to kids who needed a place to go to stay out of trouble. After the quake, it’s been difficult, you know?”

How he managed to say any of that with a straight face, Steve didn’t know.

But he was grateful.

His dad looked around at the mix of kids.

To an outsider, their group definitely didn’t make sense.

To his dad, he’d see a bunch of kids he didn’t know suddenly aware of where all of his valuables in his house were.

“And you are?”

Richard Harrington’s scowl had lessened slightly, but disgust started taking over as he looked at Eddie.

“Oh! I’m Eddie Munson. Yes, related to that Munson, but only by blood.”

Eddie was confident, calm, not backing down even a little as Richard’s eyes squinted at him, judgment clear as day on his face.

“Steven, I need to speak with you alone.”

His dad didn’t give him a chance to respond before he was walking out of the room towards the kitchen.

Everyone was looking at Steve, he could feel their looks burning the back of his and side of his face. Eddie and Robin were closest to him, so he could see out of the corner of his eyes their panic at the situation.

Steve got up and walked to the kitchen, no one trying to stop him because no one knew what his father was capable of.

He never let them know what his father was capable of.

When he got to the kitchen, his father was sipping a glass of water, his stance more relaxed but still too stiff to be considered casual.

“Where’s mom?” Steve asked hesitantly, quietly, the way he’d been taught from a young age to approach his dad.

“She’s with friends in Jamaica. We’ll be meeting up in New York in two days. Care to explain what the hell is going on?”

Steve gulped.

He wasn’t yelling yet, but he wasn’t whispering either. He knew the group of kids in the other room would be listening to every single movement and breath in here, ready to burst in if needed.

“It’s like Eddie said, they just need somewhere to hang out and I have plenty of space-“

“You? You have plenty of space? Since when do you pay the bills here? Since when is the mortgage in your name?”

His dad was good at the false calm, the even tone, the emotionless face.

Until he wasn’t.

“Sorry. I’ll take them home.”

Steve bit his lip. It’s been a while since he had to deal with his father like this, and the tears he normally could hold back until he was in his room were threatening to fall already.

“You drive them around, too? Do you feed them? Take them to appointments? What don’t you do for them? And that Eddie guy, you know his dad’s been in prison for six years for drug trafficking and grand theft auto? You want someone like that in my house?” His dad set his water down on the counter next to him. “That girl. Is she your girlfriend? Who are her parents? I don’t think I’ve seen her before. You know what we’ve told you about setting the right future with the right woman. If we don’t know her parents, then she can’t be the right one.”

Steve could do this. He could just let his dad get it all out and then get everyone to leave and hide in his room.

Maybe it wouldn’t even be a problem tomorrow, forgotten like he always was.

“Are you going to answer me or am I supposed to read your mind?”

Steve cleared his throat, hoping his voice would come out strong and confident.

“I’m their babysitter, so I take care of them when they need it and sometimes that means driving them places. Robin isn’t my girlfriend, she’s just a friend.”

He couldn’t talk about Eddie, and he hoped his dad didn’t push it.

But his dad always pushed it.

“Eddie Munson is not to come into this house again. I’m calling to get the locks changed tomorrow and contacting the neighbors to tell them to call my secretary if they see his van.”

“Dad, wait-“

“Are you arguing with me?”

His face had gone red, and Steve knew he was only reigning it in because of the people in the living room.

He knew when they left, he’d wish he left too.

“No, sir. Sorry.”

“It doesn’t really sound like you mean it. You know, I was hoping that you would have reapplied to colleges for next year by now. I thought surely having a job and focusing on your future would set you on the right path. That maybe you and Nancy Wheeler would work it out by the time she graduated. Clearly, I should’ve been requiring updates more often. Adulthood isn’t about babysitting, Steven. And it’s certainly not about entertaining friends unless you plan on making a business deal.”

Steve was used to the spiel.

This job is temporary. You have to go to college. You will work for me. You will make our name proud. Blah, blah, blah.

But that’s never been what he wants. He knows his dad knows that, probably gave up hope when he was in high school anyway, but wouldn’t let it go. The opportunity to degrade him would always be the most important thing.

“It’s been a really busy month.”

“Oh has it? Please explain how you’ve had a busy month.”

He crossed his arms and waited for Steve to start talking.

Steve knew he’d already lost.

He’d never won before, so it shouldn’t be as disappointing as it is.

“Just with the quake and everything.”

“The house is fine. This whole neighborhood is fine. There’s plenty of places still open for work. I’m not sure why you think that’s an excuse.”

“I was dealing with some injuries and helping a few of the people out there with theirs.”

“So you got paid for being a nurse?”

“No. I didn’t get paid, I just helped.”

Steve was met with silence. Silence was almost worse than yelling.

“And you expect me to take you seriously as someone who is jobless, not going to college, and is helping people for free?”

Steve didn’t know what to say. If he said yes, his father would do that laugh that he did when he couldn’t believe how stupid Steve was and then yell and who knows what else. If he said no, he would go straight to yelling about how Steve can’t be taken seriously if he doesn’t even take himself seriously.

He heard some movement in the other room, whispering, then the front door opening.

Good. If they were gone, Steve wouldn’t have to be embarrassed or ashamed of what his dad would say or do.

The front door closed and Steve’s shoulders dropped. He wasn’t relaxed, but he was settling into what he knew was coming in, preparing for the verbal beatdown followed by whatever physical blow his father thought was appropriate for him.

“Don’t even want to explain yourself? Not even try?” Richard let out a small huff. “You know, I told your mom that you must be working so much, and that’s why you never answered the phone when we called. I stuck up for you, even though a small part of my brain kept saying that I shouldn’t. You’ve never impressed me before, why would you start now?”

Steve looked down at the floor, knowing he would only get away with it for a few more seconds at this rate.

“And then I even started mentioning to my buddies that you must be putting in so much effort with college applications, giving them an honest go so you could follow your girlfriend wherever she goes. But that just wouldn’t happen, would it? Nancy will go to an Ivy League school, make a name for herself, impress the world. And what will you do, Steven? You can’t even impress me.”

“You know, I’m used to shitty parenting. I had a mom who thought drugs were more important than me and a dad who spent more time in a jail cell than with me. But you’re real special, Richard.”

Eddie walked into the kitchen, face red with an anger that looked like it could match Steve’s dad.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, come on. You haven’t spent more than a few hours with your kid since he was probably in diapers, and even the time you do spend with him is probably just you letting him know how disappointed you are that he isn’t the smartest person alive.”

“You have no right-”

“Oh, I do, though. See, Steve is the reason I’m even alive. And while you may think that’s not a gift, maybe you even think the world would be better off without me, a whole lot of people are glad I’m still around, including Steve. In fact, pretty sure most of the kids you saw in that living room before wouldn’t be alive without him. Robin sure wouldn’t be. You only put value in what Steve can do to make you look better and how much earning potential he has, and forget that his value comes from the fact that he cares so deeply about all of us and does whatever it takes for us to be safe and happy.”

“I don’t see how that is a benefit to me or to him in the long run, and I’d appreciate if you watch your-”

“It is truly amazing how Steve turned out the way he did when you so clearly couldn’t be bothered being a parent.” Eddie shook his head. “Actually, I take that back. It’s clearly in large part because you didn’t bother trying that he managed to turn out okay.”

“Eds,” Steve started, holding a hand out to him to try to get him to stop.

Richard was starting to get the purple color to his face that meant he would be completely losing it soon.

“No, Steve. Let him take it out on me. If he wants to be mad, he can be mad at me. I don’t give a shit what he thinks about me. I don’t give a shit what he says to me. I don’t give a shit if he wants to hit me. Go ahead and do it, Richard. Take out your anger about being a shitty human and having a shitty marriage and shitty job on me instead of Steve for once.”

Eddie moved in front of Steve, head held high like he was proud to be there.

Like he would always stand in front of Steve if he let him.

Steve didn’t want to let him, though. Not after all he did to keep him safe and alive.

Steve’s first ever concussion didn’t come from an accident, or an alternate dimension creature. It came from his dad hitting just a bit too hard, aiming just right over his ear. His ear didn’t stop ringing for days, and he had his first real migraine for more than 24 hours.

No one knew that and he wanted to keep it that way, but he needed Eddie to understand he couldn’t put himself in the line of fire here.

“Eddie, please.”

Then Richard laughed.

Steve hated his laugh.

“I see now. I can’t believe you’ve found a new way to let me down, but you did it. I’m almost impressed, Steven.”

Steve glanced between Eddie’s face and his dad’s.

Something had shifted and Steve didn’t know what.

“You know I didn’t believe the rumors about you being a fag, just thought you were weird and a nobody and people were spewing extra bullshit because they didn’t like you. Now I see they were right,” Richard practically spit the last words.

Steve could see Eddie shaking in front of him, but he didn’t back down. He didn’t run.

“And you went and fell in love with my idiot son. Steve, did he turn you into one too?”

“Steve, you don’t have to answer anything,” Eddie said without turning to him.

Steve’s brain was going about 100 miles per hour.

He knew Eddie liked men. They’d talked about it when he accidentally came out when he was high on morphine in the hospital. He even offered to drive him and Robin to a place in Indy where they might actually meet someone.

He turned it down then and they barely spoke about it since.

He watched as Eddie’s entire body tensed, like he expected Steve to hit him.

Then the other part registered. The part where his dad said Eddie fell in love with Steve.

Steve laughed.

Eddie flinched.

Steve stopped laughing.

“This is gold. You didn’t even know, did you Steven?”

For the first time, Eddie was looking down at the floor, his hair falling in front of him to hide his face.

Steve wasn’t having it, not now, not from his dad, not because of something like this. Even if it was true…well, if it was true, then Eddie didn’t deserve it coming out like this.

“You know what? You’ve spent my entire life telling me who I should be. You worked so hard to mold me into a person as miserable as you. You almost succeeded. Luckily, I met people who made me want to be better, who made me better. Eddie is one of those people. He says I saved him, but he saved me first. He only needed saving because he wanted me to live. You didn’t even bother to come home to make sure I was okay after the quake.”

“Oh, don’t be dramatic. You’re a grown man. We would have been called if you were in the hospital.”

“No you wouldn’t. You haven’t been my emergency contact in three years.”

His dad went pale at that.

“What do you mean? Who else?”

“Joyce Byers was, and then since last summer, it’s been Robin. They actually would come if I needed them.”

Eddie seemed to regain some of his composure, looking up at Richard with disdain.

“Kind of crazy how your son has so many people who love him for who he is and you can’t even be bothered to show up when he almost dies.” Eddie turned to Steve with a small, sad smile. “C’mon. Robin took the kids home in my van and I need a ride.”

“Steven, if you walk out the door, you better understand you won’t be welcome back here. Not with the disrespect you’ve shown me.”

“And the disrespect you’ve shown me? Eddie? My friends? What about that?”

Richard was silent, his teeth gritting together as he seethed to himself instead of out loud for once.

“Stevie, go grab some stuff from your room just in case, okay? I’ll wait here,” Eddie whispered.

“Eds, it’s fine. I won’t leave you alone with him,” Steve whispered back.

“I’m fine, Stevie. You can stay with me and Wayne tonight.”

Steve decided now wasn’t the time to talk, not while his father could hear.

He pulled Eddie along with him up the stairs, not giving him or his dad a chance to say anything else.

He grabbed the bag he kept under his bed for this kind of situation, already full of his savings, two sets of clothes, and important papers his dad probably didn’t even know he kept copies of: his birth certificate and social security card, the registration for the car showing it was in Steve’s own name, and the official copies of his trust fund documents.

He didn’t even know if Eddie had tried speaking to him again since coming in the room, he was too focused on getting out of there.

He thought about what he would do if his dad changed the locks before he could come back to get the rest of his stuff, which was likely.

He could find new clothes, he could replace his shampoo, but he glanced at his desk, where he kept pictures on a corkboard.

“Can you grab that board?”

Eddie looked over where Steve was staring and quickly grabbed it off the hooks on the wall.

“Thanks.”

“Anything you need.”

Steve tried not to think about it. He really did.

So he rushed back out of his room, down the stairs, and to the front door, Eddie close on his heels.

He got in his car, didn’t even stop to think about this being the last time he may be here.

Once Eddie closed the passenger door, he was backing out of the driveway and continuing out of the neighborhood.

They rode in silence for a couple miles, until Steve’s hands started shaking and Eddie told him to pull over.

“I’m gonna drive, okay? Robin’s probably waiting at mine already.”

Steve couldn’t argue, he knew he was too emotional to be behind the wheel. He may have only had a few more miles to go, but anything could happen if he wasn’t focused.

He zoned out on the rest of the drive. Eddie could have been trying to talk, but he didn’t hear it. The radio may have been on, but he didn’t hear it.

He didn’t even notice when they arrived at Eddie’s trailer until his door was opening and Robin was there, hands on his arms and rambling nervously.

“Oh my God, did he hurt you? I will go back there right now if you have so much as a hair out of place. He is such an asshole. Seriously, who does he think he is talking to you like that? Does he always say that kinda stuff? You need to get out of there. You can sleep in my attic or something, we’ll figure it out. I-”

“Robin, give him some air,” Eddie said softly, pulling her away from him and leaning down so he was face to face with Steve. “Stevie, do you wanna go inside? I’ll take Robin home and you can get settled.”

“Wait. He’s staying here tonight? Is he gonna live here now?” Robin was asking, pacing behind Eddie.

“He’s staying here tonight and maybe longer. We’ll talk about it all tomorrow. For now, he just needs to get inside and rest, okay?”

“Did he hurt him?”

“No, Robbie. He didn’t put his hands on him.”

“But he hurt him.”

Eddie sighed and nodded.

Steve looked at him, then at her, giving them both a small smile.

“I’m okay guys. I can drive Robin home. Maybe get a motel for the week.”

“Steve.”

“It’s fine, I’m fine.”

Eddie put his hand on his knee, squeezing gently.

“You’re not fine. You can stay with me tonight and we can figure it out more tomorrow, okay?”

Steve knew he wasn’t going to win. They’d take his keys and carry him into Eddie’s trailer. They would make all the kids come over to make sure he wouldn’t leave.

He loved them for it.

“Fine.”

“Thank you,” Eddie said with relief. “Alright, Robbie. Get in the van, I’ve got a date with my couch tonight I just can’t miss.”

Robin rolled her eyes, but Steve was already zoning out again.

“Stevie? Wayne’s up, I see the light on. He can help you get settled.”

“He won’t be upset?”

Eddie’s face fell.

“No, swe-” Eddie cleared his throat. “He won’t be upset. He’ll be happy to have someone other than me to talk to.”

Steve nodded once, grabbed his bag from the floor by his feet, and got out of his car.

He could feel Robin and Eddie staring as he made his way into the trailer, heard their muttering, but not quite what they were muttering.

Being inside the trailer felt different, better. It felt like a home. Wayne had worked hard on making it cozy the moment the government had it brought here to replace their old one.

But Steve realized even without a lot of things, it still felt lived in.

He could feel how much love was in these walls, how safe he felt just standing in the living room.

“Eddie, that you?” Wayne called from the bathroom down the hall.

“No, sir, it’s Steve!”

“Steve!” Wayne came around the corner with a towel around his neck, shaving cream on his face. “Didn’t expect you. Thought it was movie night tonight.”

“Um. It was. I’m staying here tonight if that’s okay,” Steve said, looking down at the floor and kicking one foot against the carpet.

He could feel Wayne staring at him, but he didn’t think he had the strength to see him turn him away.

“Of course it’s okay. You’re welcome anytime, you know that.”

Steve nodded.

“You know where Eddie’s room is, go ahead and set your stuff in there. I’ll finish up and then grab you something to drink. Want a snack?”

“Oh. Um. No thank you. I’m pretty tired, so I think I might just go to bed.”

“You sure, kid?”

“Mhm. I’ll be out of your hair tomorrow.”

Wayne was coming closer, he could see his feet shuffling against the carpet.

A hand was suddenly on Steve’s shoulder.

“Son, I don’t know what’s goin’ on, but I know I ain’t lettin’ you leave here tomorrow without talkin’ first. You ain’t botherin’ me if you need to stay here for a bit. We don’t have much, but we can figure it out.”

Steve sniffled. He wasn’t going to cry. He wasn’t.

“Steve. Can I…shit, hold on. I got stuff on my face. Don’t move!”

Steve waited for Wayne to go back to the bathroom. He heard the sink turn on and Wayne grumbled something about how long it takes to get hot water in this dump. He let himself smile, mostly because Eddie had done the same thing when he was having to take careful showers while he was still healing. Wayne was walking back out of the bathroom, using the towel around his neck to pat his face dry.

“Can I hug you, kid?”

Steve just stared at him.

“Steve? You can say no. Just seemed like you might need one.”

He did need one.

Before he comprehended what he was doing, he fell into Wayne’s arms and let out a sob.

“It’s alright, son. It’s gonna be alright. We’ve got ya. Whatever it is, you’re safe here.”

His words just made Steve sob harder.

But Wayne gripped him harder, not even giving him the chance to think he was letting him go.

They stood like that for a while, probably too long, but Steve couldn’t pull away.

He heard the front door open and then Eddie asking something.

“Just needed to cry it out a little. You alright, Steve?”

Steve sniffed, pulling away so he could look at Eddie.

Eddie was watching him, concerned eyes watery with unshed tears.

“Stevie? Have you been crying the whole time?”

“No,” Steve said, his voice barely able to choke out a response.

“How about you boys head on to bed? I’m gonna be watchin’ my shows for a bit if you need me.”

“Alright, love you,” Eddie said, not taking his eyes off of Steve.

“Love ya both,” Wayne said.

Steve was at least able to hold himself together until he made it to Eddie’s room.

Then, he let go.

He let himself fall to his knees, let himself fall apart, for probably the first time ever.

He didn’t think about what Eddie would do or what Eddie would say or even what Eddie would think.

He just let himself feel the overwhelming sadness that comes from not being loved by a parent.

“Sweetheart, come here,” Eddie said into his ear as he pulled him to his chest. “It’s gonna be okay. Let it out. You’ve held it in too long.”

He had. God, he really had.

For years, he just pretended his dad was an asshole who didn’t come home often and had high expectations. He pretended his mom was just an important part of his business and that’s why she never bothered to stay home with him.

But for years, he knew that his parents just didn’t like him. They were disappointed in him as a son, and as a person.

He cried for the ten year old version of him who didn’t realize it would be his last birthday with his parents at home. He cried for the 12 year old version of him who had to forge a signature on his field trip form because his parents hadn’t been home in a month. He cried for the 16 year old version of him who was old enough not to need his parents most of the time but not old enough to be completely alone after his world turned upside down.

He cried for the version of him who couldn’t understand how so many people put their lives on the line for him, but his own parents couldn’t even call.

He cried because he knew that he would never be loved or accepted by his parents the way Wayne had just wholeheartedly accepted him, no questions asked.

“Stevie, you gotta take a few deep breaths, okay. In and out. Wanna try it with me?”

Steve felt the rumble of Eddie’s voice in his chest against his ear, felt him take a deep breath and tried to copy him, but his chest hurt and he couldn’t.

“Try again.”

So he did. And then again.

By the fourth time, it was easier. His lungs filled all the way, and he slowly let the air out. His face was wet, Eddie’s shirt was wet. He could feel snot dripping from his nose.

He knew Eddie didn’t sign up for this when he offered his place for the night.

He started to pull away, furiously wiping his eyes and face the best he could.

“Sorry. I’ll uh. I can go.”

“Steve,” Eddie wrapped his arms around him and pulled him back so his back was against Eddie’s chest. “I want you to stay, okay? I need you to stay. I’ll feel better if you stay.”

Steve relaxed against Eddie’s body, the comfort too nice to give up at the moment.

They stayed like that for a while, Eddie’s fingers tracing shapes against Steve’s arms.

“Eddie?”

“Hm?”

“Was he right?”

“About what?”

“You being in love with me?”

Eddie’s fingers stopped tracing for a moment, but then started back up. He could hear Eddie’s heartbeat quicken behind him.

“Would it be bad if he was right?”

Eddie sounded like he was going to cry now.

“No. It wouldn’t be bad at all.”

Steve knew he was emotional, and maybe now wasn’t the time to have this talk. Maybe they wouldn’t even have the whole talk they should have. But he knew that he wanted to tell Eddie what he’d been thinking about for, truly, weeks now.

“You remember in the hospital when you were high on morphine and you kept touching my cheek and telling me that you wanted to kiss the freckle that was right where I should have a dimple?”

“I don’t and I wish you didn’t.”

Steve let out a snort.

“Well, I couldn’t forget about it. And not just because you also had just come out to me, or because you were alive. I just kept thinking about how much I wanted you to kiss that freckle.”

“Stevie…”

“I know you’re gonna tell me we shouldn’t do this tonight. You’re right, we shouldn’t. But I need you to know that it’s not a new thing for me, that I love you, too.”

He felt a kiss to the top of his head.

It felt like Eddie just kissed every worry, every stress, every bad part of the night away.

“You’re right about not doing anything tonight. You’ve had a lot of emotions and you need to sleep it off a bit. But I’ll be right next to you. I’m here, Stevie. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

“You’ll stay here tonight?”

“If that’s what you want, sweetheart.”

“Mhm. I do.”

“Let’s get comfy then.”

Steve pulled away to stand up, but Eddie held his hand so he wouldn’t stand yet.

“We’re not doing anything, but. I kinda need to kiss you. If you’re good with that,” Eddie said, eyes wide with hope.

“I’m good with that,” Steve smirked.

When Eddie leaned in to kiss him, he kept his eyes open. Only long enough to see Eddie’s close and a small smile appear on his face, but it was a moment he would never forget. The first of so many moments he would never forget.

[peanutbubba]

You want freaky? YOU WANT FREAKY??? I'll try, just for you Pea <3

I love starting off strong so Imma just dive right into the dacryphilia. What can I say? I like strong men crying and whimpering. Though I'm sure that's not going to be the most devious thing I'll come up with, I am still fully awake after all. God damn do I want Law broken and sniffling after getting piped like the most inconvenient city road construction in the summer heat, I want him begging and begging for more despite being too tired to even keep his eyes open that are blurry and puffy from sobbing. He just wants everything you have to give, your attention, love, admiration, libido, loyalty. And he absolutely cries more when you aren't giving it to him genuinely.

Fuck it, put a collar on this guy, he deserves to be controlled a little bit. Like, have you thought of the ways to tease, play, and generally mess with him??? Cause I do. At some point I lose track of seeing him overwhelmed with pleasure and the feeling of being wanted to seeing him overwhelmed with just existence. Keeping him in your lap with just the collar on him after promising him some release but you're forcing him to stay still while you’re reading a book or watching TV or scrolling through your phone. He's aching but the only attention he gets is once he's already soft again, and by the time he's ready and in tears because he finally thinks you'll let him cum, you stop to take your attention away completely. It's happening over and over again, Law is endlessly babbling at some point because maybe if he begs and whines enough you'll actually help him. Right? *buzzer noise* WRONG ANSWER, FOREHEAD! Law doesn't even need to be being a brat, just say you're done and let him lay on the couch for a while to get all the sobbing and begging out before finally treating him softly and gently. He doesn't protest either to you treating him like glass, he just doesn't want to be ignored by you.

I can be freakier, LET ME COOK. I want you to have to screenshot this and block out some of the shit I'm saying because It makes your blog look Christian in comparison!!

God I am so glad I stay anonymous because of the shit I'm about to type. At some point, putting a cock cage/cock ring on Law IS in question. Medically, they ain't supposed to be on for more than 30 mins at a time, but this is fiction and I have free will, so slap that shit on. Why? Idk, to see him squirm, we've already established holy shit does this make me a sadist I like this guy crying. Imagine him spending an entire day, from waking up to going back to bed with you, in a cock ring. He can't get you off of his mind, and he can't get the fucking ring off because he knows he can't lie about this kind of thing to you, so (I guess going for a modern au here) he gets back after a long as shift or day of errands and you're already about to fall asleep which makes him want to have a god damn conniption. Wakes you up and goes between begging and demanding you do something to make up for falling asleep while he's been playing your game all day. You do eventually cave in because he doesn't act like this often about the shit you do, but you do it your way still. Tell him you'll help and that he needs to calm down before you do anything, and he fucking hates being told to calm done, it doesn't take much convincing though after you turn back around to go back to sleep. From that point it doesn't get much better than if he kept the ring on, the entire time you're edging him or as soon as he cums you let go to watch him become dissatisfied with his underwhelming orgasm. He keeps on demanding and demanding that you do it again until you give him a proper orgasm, though by the 5th try I imagine he just tells you to let him do it himself if you're going to be cruel about it. At that point you can finally give him what he wants with a few quick pumps all the way through his orgasm until he flops over and melts into the sheets, not really caring about the fact that he came dry, just happy that he doesn't feel so pent up anymore and is completely willing to sleep like that despite the knot that would be in his neck by morning.

I know, it's not the kinkiest thing someone has written on the interwebs, being honest though, I'm just below the surface of the water with these ideas and the things I think of. I'm not ready to share the lowest level of my iceberg to tumblr just yet lol

I also try not to overflow your inbox with my asks so I wait until the ones I've sent are answered, but I need this out of my google docs yesterday

-✨️💀✨️

This got a giggle out of me, got me rubbing my hands like some devious ass fly.

Absolutely this was so beautiful, 10/10. Man, just the though of Law being a crier, yep that takes it!

You know when some people cry you can see their true eye color, it’s 100% like that with Law, like his usually sunken tired eyes much more bright and grey/yellow can be seen so clearly you wanna lose yourself in them.

I’m gonna lose myself on the fact that you said a collar though! Please, this man was destined to wear a nice deep blue or a rosy red around his neck.

The cock ring and dry cumming also got me. The fact that he doesn’t care, he just wants an energy release, doesn’t even mind how nothing spurts out of his spent cock he simply wanted the numbing of an actual well drawn orgasm.

Best morning yet, got to wake up to this in my inbox which was abso-toot-ly worth it.

Also I saw the other message, really hope you got your essay done in time man 😭.

[eggyrocks]

CONGRATS ON 500 !!!!!!!

prompt 14 with akaashi please please please please

THANK YOUUUUUUU <3333333333

500 followers special: #14: "Hey, I'm with you, okay? Always."

akaashi x gn! reader, less hurt more comfort, anxiety, insecurities/jealousy-not proofread

written content masterlist

Akaashi noticed everything, when it came to them.

He noticed when their real, genuine smile of joy started to slip into a forced, worn one when they were started to get overwhelmed. He could tell how they felt about a conversation from the way they fidgeted with their hands. He noticed when they bit back on their inside of their cheek when they got too excited about something and wanted to keep calm. He knew what every tone of voice, every twitch of their lips, and every bout of silence meant.

Akaashi noticed it all.

And he knew something was wrong the second they started to get quiet. They were out, a group of friends and partners of friends and friends of friends, grabbing drinks. It was about twenty minutes in when they started talking less, their voice wavering at the end of sentences they did speak. They kept a taut smile on and laughed when they were supposed to, but Akaashi could feel their desperation to leave.

He stayed by their side the whole night, arm over their shoulder or a hand on their knee, thumb drawing circles over the fabric of their clothes. He was polite, not too concerned with whatever was being said to him but engaged enough not to raise eyebrows.

But the second he was able to pay for their portion of the tab, he gave faux lamentations about having to leave early, even though he'd really love to stay, really, and he held their hand on the way out.

They didn't say anything on their way home, or once they got back, and Akaashi wouldn't force them. But when they had removed the night from their skin and settled into their sheets, he noticed a sniffle, and how their eyes were rimmed red and watering.

The bed beside them dips as Akaashi settles in next to them. He's careful as he raised his hand to cup their cheek, thumb moving across the soft skin under their eye, catching a stray tear that falls. "I'm sorry," they say eventually, wind of their voice weakened as the tears start to fall more freely now.

Akaashi doesn't remove his hand from their face. He keeps moving his thumb over their skin, touch-feather light, unintrusive. "There's nothing you need to be apologizing for," he tells them.

"I know you were really looking forward to going out with everyone," they start, volume and speed of their words steadily rising, "and I know that I ruined it by being upset and you left because of me and I feel like you shouldn't have to do that for me every time I get anxious about something stupid-"

"Hey, slow down," Akaashi cuts them off gently, taking his free hand and entangling it with one of theirs, squeezing slightly. "If you're anxious about something, it's not stupid. You can't help feeling like that, so tell me what you're anxious about and we can talk through it."

They take a deep, shaky breath. "It is stupid, though."

Akaashi leans forward and gives him a soft kiss on the forehead. "Tell me anyways."

"Bokuto's friend seemed really interested in you. They were laughing at everything you said and talking to you a lot and they kept looking at you and everyone really seemed to like them a lot and I just kept thinking about how much easier it would be for you to be with someone like that instead of me and that maybe you wouldn't want to be with me anymore if you could be with them or someone like them and I just keep thinking about you leaving-"

"Hey," Akaashi cuts them off, noticing the way their eyes start to shift out of focus and the way their confession was slowly starting to spiral, "I'm with you, okay? Always. I always want to be with you. No one else. I'm not leaving, not ever."

Their eyes are wide and wet. "But what if-"

He gives their hand another squeeze. "No, there's no what if's. I'm here with you right now and no one else for a reason. I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to. I wouldn't have left if I didn't want to."

They swallow, trying to choke down the argumentative anxieties that creep into their thoughts. They give him a nod. "Okay."

Akaashi removes his touch from their face and releases their hand to pull them into his chest, arms over their shoulders and chin resting on top of their head. They settle in, their arms automatically drifting to hold him around his waist. "It was sort of silly of you, to think I'd leave you," Akaashi gently teases.

He can feel them try to nuzzle in closer to his chest. "You promise?"

Akaashi kisses the top of their head. "I promise."

an: honest to god so damn cheesy but IDCCCCCCCC i love cheesy shit. i hope you enjoyed <3333

[l4long-winded]

So this is somewhat inspired by the other anon about Carmy with the girl he can’t believe chose him. Maybe on a bad day, he’s just asking her why she’s with him and hes listing his bad traits and after every one she’s saying“I love you” until he stops. My man needs love, I want him so bad 😭😭

it's a culmination of it all. the piling stress from work, from this incessant need to prove himself, grief he has yet to fully process, capricious thoughts vying for his attention, exasperated expressions continuously staring daggers his way as if he's not running around without a sense of what he's doing, despite his brain instructing him this is the right path, while his heart isn't in any of it. he's having trouble breathing, to which you're there because you're always there for him at times like this as he's grasping at his chest, protecting it, and shielding it in case his rapid heart pounds its way out of his ribcage.

when he turns his head and observes the concern in your face mixed with the calming energy he really doesn't fucking deserve, his world tilts. the onslaught of it all shifts into his doubts, his insecurities, pointed at him with veracity he believes is consuming him the longer he stares. overwhelmed with emotion and panic, his fears surrounding you bloom full on his skin, thickening petals and branches crushing into the crevices of the veins in his arms and neck.

you could do better. so, so much better. you're not supposed to be here with carmen. he's kept you to himself, a caged bird he can't bother to let go of when you'd sing with access to the sky and new horizons ahead.

"i'm-i'm a fuckin' mess," he blurts, "what are you doin' here? with me? out of everyone?"

it's hard to decipher how heavy his words are when he's panting and his voice is close to cracking. it's as if he wants the answers to his question, but he's far too afraid of confirming the vicious betrayal of his doubt. he's convinced he doesn't sound ridiculous.

"because i love you."

"i-i-i fuck things up. i'll fuck you up. m'gonna ruin you and and and y-you're gonna hate me one day, n'won't blame you for a second-" he sputters, his words mashing together, strings of linguistics that don't sound like proper english. his mouth keeps opening and closing to release these incoherent ramblings, his ears bubbling with alarm bells.

"carm, i love you."

"i'm not right. i'm not fuckin' crazy," he gasps, "but i'm no good f'you. for anyone. not for my family, or, or, or my friends, if i fuckin' even have any at this point." his throat is tightening up, eyes shutting, the memory of you planted firmly behind his straining eyelids. he can't breathe.

"bear, listen, i love you so much."

"fuck, fuck, fuck this, fuck me, fuck everything, fuck the fucking restaurant, fuck, fuck, f-fuuuck it all—"

carmen flinches feeling your warm hands steady themselves on his cheeks. his lips and eyelids part, meeting your gaze. you're standing there in front of him, the combination of concern and calm remaining, as well as an affinity he will never, ever be able to understand. something about it soothes him, his breathing still ragged, but he inhales and exhales steadily out of the habit of this. it's not the first time this has happened, where he's so out of his mind that only few can pull him out before he's drowning in it. he shifts his face towards your palm, opting to press his lips against it. he should focus on breathing, but this action grounds him, muffling his worries, smothering them with the scent of your body lotion and the soft texture of your skin.

"i love you, carmen," you whisper. he hears you this time. the roar of his head dwindles down, fading in favor of hearing those words come off your lips again. he suddenly realizes how long you've been saying it while he was busy berating himself aloud with the secrets he buries deep inside.

he thinks he's going to say more shit if he tries to respond. this kind of thing has always been hard for him. pressured into it at times by his family, their defensive nature yanking it out of him by cutting at him and having it bleed out instead of nurturing it until it slips and that's all he can think about like it does with you. it spills like an inkwell. dripping over his skin. more permanent than the tattoos he's accumulated.

he nods. it's a slow and gradual thing, but he's accepting it. he wants desperately to say it back, but his lips shake with the threat of spewing more of the poison rattling in his lungs. he just keeps nodding, eventually hiding his head into your neck, lulled by the repetition of those beautiful, pacifying words.

"i love you, it's okay, breathe for me, i love you."

you love him. he's a mess and you love him. he's convinced he's going to hurt you, but you love him.

his arms tighten around you. he's positive you're capable of being better off without him, but he's not letting you go. he loves you too much to do that. he'll tell you later when he can breathe and when you inevitably render his thoughts into mush, replacing them with devotion, reassurance, and structure. yeah. yeah, he can do that. even if it's painfully obvious to everyone and you already know.