#all are awkward about emotions but have nice boots

[peachesofteal]

Simple Math / Part Nine

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 4.1k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Graphic descriptions of domestic violence. Medical chart from a SANE EXAM. Simon's family history, trauma. Brief sexual content. Hospital setting, nurse!reader, medical inaccuracies. Heavy emotions. Scars. Reader in pain. Hurt/comfort. Kate is a dog with a bone. Penny is cute. POV switches. Simon and Johnny make a discovery, and a promise.

You can’t breathe.

The air is too thin, too tight, and you stand, silent, in the foyer of the home that you’ve been invited to.

A clock ticks on the wall. You count each second, waiting. 

You should leave. You should run. 

Simon’s footsteps echo above your head, already up the stairs with your first bag and work backpack.

He said to make yourself at home, but you can’t move.

The foyer is the foyer of a family. There is a hall tree with little shoes scattered beneath it, a tiny, pink backpack hanging on the hook. Too many wellies to count, all in pastel colors, matching a small yellow and green rain jacket that’s folded on the stairs. There’s a black hoodie, a black jacket, and a green on the coat rack, hung haphazardly with a toss. Men’s sizes, and you notice two pairs of trainers next to one pair of black boots, and two crayons hide, peeking out from under the bench, one blue, one purple, so worn down they’re almost half gone.

A home. A family. 

“Hey, so up-“ You flinch. The jolt has you stumbling, one misstep over another, and he tenses, prepared to steady you, careful hand outstretched, but not encroaching.

“Sorry.” You shouldn’t be here. 

“No, I’m sorry. I know better.” You blink, and the silence is heavy, weighted down like bricks at the bottom of a river. 

He’s still wearing the mask. 

 “Can I… give you a tour?”

“S-sure.”

You lose your breath again in the kitchen.

Simon turns away to the sink, loading dishes into the dishwasher as you stare at the fridge and its collage with a tight chest. It’s covered; photos, invitations, magnets, notes, finger painted masterpieces. You step closer, studying, noticing the way they all fit together, mix matched perfectly, and even in the pictures, the three of them glow effortlessly, too sweet and smiling, happy. Together. A family. A perfect unit.

Your nose tingles, and you blink back the tears that fight forward, wiping away the two that escape and trickle down your cheek. You don’t know why it overwhelms you, why it fills you with grief.

What is it like, to be loved like that? To have a family, like this? 

Get it together. You’re a guest in their house.

It’s too much, and you chastise yourself for getting so emotional over nothing, over something stupid.

You need to be alone. 

Dry sandpaper scrubs the back of your throat when you swallow. “Simon?” He turns, concerned, glancing at the fridge and then back to you, drying his hands on a towel.  

“What is it?”

“Can I… I’m sorry. I’m… tired.” You try to explain your needs but it’s awkward on your mouth, uncomfortable. His expression creases with sympathy.

“Of course, c’mon. I’ll show you.”

“Alright, one more step.”

“’m sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, bun. You’re alright.” In the back of your mind, you’re registering Simon’s warmth, the wilted lean that has you tipped into him, slow steps on the stairs, one by one as you fight to stay upright. He’s warm, and pillowy… the kind of comfort you could sink into, disappear inside for a while. It sounds so… nice.

But your shoulder is throbbing. The pain combined with the emotions swirling about in your heart has you on the verge of tears, top teeth dug into your lip, and your molars grind against one other with each step.

“It’s just at the end of the hall.”

You shouldn’t be doing this. Even now, after agreeing, getting in the car, getting yourself here… the desire to bolt runs hot under your skin, buzzing inside your skull, an insistent need.

You’re in their house. Where they live. With their baby. 

What if he comes back? What if he hurts them? 

“Hey.” Simon says your name slowly, ducking down to get your attention. Fuck.

“Sorry, I’m just… exhausted.”

“I’m sure. It’s right here.” He opens the door to a room, flicking on a light switch. The walls are a sage green, a gentle hue that matches the bedspread, framed photos organized into a gallery wall, pictures of smiles and laughter, a tiny Penny in Simon’s naked arms, a candid shot of Johnny in full military regalia, the three of them together somewhere, hiking, with Pen snuggled in a papoose on Johnny’s chest. The bed is the centerpiece, a massive king size piled with pillows, and it looks so inviting, so soft that you want to collapse into it right here and now.

“Wow.” It’s the best you can do, considering the screeching agony vibrating in your shoulder. You try to breathe through it, but the pain only shortens your draw.

“Yeah, it’s our old bed. Very comfortable.” He puts your other duffel down by the dresser, and you try not to dwell on the idea of it once being theirs, where they slept, where they’ve loved one another, held each other, their child, their- “It’s got its own bathroom, just through here.” He’s on the other side of the room, turning on a light that is far too bright, and you squint, jerking away with a gasp. Are you getting a migraine too? “Shit, sorry.” The room spins. You stumble towards the bed, limbs heavy, head full of cement, wooziness blurring your immediate sight. You’re disjointed, a mess of pain and disorientation, and you cover your eyes with a palm.

“Sorry, I think… I think I’m getting a headache. My shoulder-“ it slips out before you can stop yourself, and even with your eyes closed, you know Simon is staring at you, picking you apart with his eyes.

“Your shoulder?” You’re on a runaway train now. It has no brakes. No destination. It just barrels down the tracks, unable to stop for rational thought or pleas of mercy. It has no plan, and it does not heed you. You’re helpless. Hopeless. Lost. Reaching out for a light in the dark, a rope, a life vest, and a sob breaks through to the surface.

“It really hurts.”

“It hurts?” His voice cuts, tone worried. “Which one?” You use your good side to point, shakily.

“I’m sorry. I’m s-sorry.” You try to tell him, try to explain that you don’t mean to cry, or be emotional. You don’t mean to be making a fuss. You’re not supposed to be a problem.

A warm hand lays atop your thigh, thumb rubbing into your scrub pants.

“Sweetheart, you’re in pain. You don’t have to apologize for crying.” Your vision blurs, thick with tears, and fingers gently probe along your shoulder cuff. When you flinch, he swears. “Shhh, alright. Easy.” He’s gentling a spooked horse, carefully feeling along where you ache as you cry through it, unable to stop. “I’m going to go get some ice. We can… wrap it up, if you think that will help?”

“Ye-yeah, okay.” His steps fade, and you try to get your top off, sliding the arm that doesn’t hurt underneath your turtleneck, which is confined by the rigidity of your scrub top.

When you try the other one, the pain is so sharp, a cry bursts from your lips, and Simon sprints up the stairs. How did it get so much worse between the beginning of your shift and now? 

“What happened?”

“I can’t… I can’t get my shirts off.” You uselessly tug at the hem, eyes half open, letting it fall from your fingers, stuck in a loop, frantic movements matching the increasing pace of your lungs.

“Can I help?” His face is lined in concentration, and you spot an icepack on the bed now, with a sling, and a wrap. They’re prepared. Must come home with a fair number of injuries. “Bun, are you with me?” You sniffle and nod. What choice do you have? What choice do you ever have? The pain is too much. It’s all too much, and it boils over until you need to get the shirts off, not caring that it will expose you, or show Simon the very details you’re always trying to hide. You’re too far lost now, too far gone.

If you’re here, in their home, shouldn't you let them see? Shouldn't you let them know? 

The truth is terrifying, the reality of the trust you have in them. You know Simon won’t hurt you, instinctively. You feel safe here, in their home, their old bed, and when he looks at you, you show him, just for a second, the fractured mirror that is your reflection. You show him the pain and the rage and the fear, you give him everything. You shove the girl in the mirror forward, you force her into the sun and you hold her face to the light, trying not to sob as she screams at you in protest.

Just for a second.

“Okay.” He nods, and then cups your cheek. “You’re okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” You nod with tears that sting, and then you slowly pull away, slipping back into yourself, hiding the girl in the mirror away, making more promises to her that you’re not sure you’re going to keep.

“We’re going to put this one,” He slowly, carefully lifts the arm with the bad shoulder until it’s resting on his own, “right here. That alright?” A whimper builds, but you give him another nod, breathing through the anguish. There are a million little needles in your shoulder, all stabbing you over and over, ripping and gnawing at the cartilage, or the bone, or the muscle… you can’t be sure. “I’m going to bring your scrub top up now. Is this okay?” his fingers peel it from the turtleneck, and when he gets to your head, you incline your neck, more tears rushing forth.

“Yeah.” You whisper, a tired, pained moan, falling from your lips without permission.

“I know it hurts; I know. Almost there, try to breathe.” He soothes you, and the top slides towards him along your arm. He pulls it free, throwing it on the floor somewhere, his hands returning to your thighs.

“Sorry.” It’s automatic, ingrained. A reaction to pain, to fear, to the idea of being a burden, something that haunts you, every day. He ignores it.

“Ready for the next?” The turtleneck comes less easy, but the two of you are in sync like dance partners. The pain shoots up your arm when you move your neck again, and Simon wipes a few tears from your cheek, carefully leaning you back into the pillows and pulling the comforter down.

There’s a sharp intake of breath, the raw edge of surprise, horror, you’re sure, and you close your eyes. You can't look at him, when you know what he sees. You know what you look like. A roadmap of foolishness. Of weakness. You know the scars are plainly on display, still raised, still ugly. Like you.

He says nothing, only sits at your side, bed dipping with his weight. “I’m going to take your shoes off too, okay?” He narrates and asks for permission with each touch, pulling your sneakers free, satisfying thunk of each one hitting the floor, and then moves on to sliding the ice pack underneath you, wrapping it firmly but not too tight, ensuring it stays in place. He’s tender and slow, thoughtful, your eyes fighting to stay closed, brain and body starting to drift off into uncomfortable sleep. “Not yet, sweetheart.” There’s a rattle, two pills being deposited into your hand.

“What are these?"

“Paracetamol.” He turns the bottle, label out, word coming into focus enough to be verified, and you swallow them down with the glass of water in his outstretched hand.

“Thank you.” The croak stays lodged in your throat, and his eyes crinkle, the sign of a smile.

“Get some rest.” It’s comfort he gives you, leaning forward, pressing mask covered lips to your forehead. Comfort that doesn’t elicit a flinch or a sense of wariness, and you bask in the shine of the sun on your skin, holding tight to it, slipping into a dreamless sleep.

“Banky.” Pen demands, hands outstretched.

“No binky, it’s lunch time. Lunch.” Simon makes the sign for lunch, L shaped pointer finger and thumb, circling the corner of his mouth. He does it a few times, accompanied with the word again and again until Penny huffs and leans back, eyes wide. “You try. You try, lunch.”

“No!” She shrieks, and he shushes her, scattering some banana puffs across her tray.

“Shhh Pen. Bun is sleeping, remember?”

“Bunny seep?” She gives him the sign for sleep, or her sign at least, a palm dragging down her face followed by very dramatic closing lids. “Seep?”

“Yes, sleeping.” Simon makes the sign to acknowledge she was correct. “Good job.” He gives her a thumbs up, and she smiles, sweetness melting away some of the tense worry that's taken up in his heart.

“Puff?” She holds one out to him, but he shakes his head, pointing at her mouth.

“For you. Eat them, eat your puffs.” He signs along with the words, and she mimics him, food in hand, eyes lighting up when she finally makes it in her mouth.

He glances towards the stairs. You’re in the guest room, far enough away that Penny’s noise shouldn’t wake you, but still he tries to keep her preoccupied, distracted from making a fuss.

He wants you to get as much sleep as possible, this morning’s discovery of your shoulder unsettled him more than he’s frankly comfortable with, and the image of your swollen, battered face and neck leers and taunts. 

She’s safe now. She’s here. 

“Dada.” Pen calls, and he smiles, leaning forward to brush his lips across his baby’s soft skin, wispy curls tickling his nose. 

“Love you, baby girl.” He signs it too, and she beams.

“Luh.” It’s supposed to be love, and though the word is a struggle, the sentiment is the same. He doesn’t care that she’s not quite got it yet, he’ll take every word, every syllable he can get. These moments, each moment with his child, Johnny’s child, theirs… is a gift, one he never thought he’d have until Johnny. A privilege.

His phone vibrates with a text message.  

>Simon

>Give me a ring when you get a chance. On the black cell.  

“Thought you were on vacation?” Kate sighs, click clack of keys echoing in the background.

“I am, but if I’m too idle I start to go crazy. The wife likes it when I have a project.” Simon pauses, cocking his head. Penny’s feet kick in the highchair, baby spoon banging against the plastic tray.

“Hang on, Kate.” He drags a kitchen chair over in front of her so he can sit, pinning the phone between his shoulder and chin to twist the lid off the applesauce pouch. “Shhh, here you go." Penny gurgles with a grin at the taste of the fruit, and he smiles back at her. "So, what’s the new project then?”

“The nurse.” Simon’s eyes dart to the floor above his head.

“It’s not a good time.”

“I can talk, you can listen.” She brushes him off, sipping something with ice and then continuing. “I found it hard to believe that a civilian would be able to scrub their footprint like this, so I did a little digging. The more digging I did, the worse my fixation became.” Like a dog with a bone.Simon holds his breath. “I just needed a key, and with those photos you provided, well, things just started unraveling.”

“Kate.” He growls because he can’t manage anything else. He’s trying to keep himself still, heart pounding in his chest. Penny coos, like she notices the shift in her dad’s demeanor, and he immediately attends her, thumbing at a smear of applesauce on her cheek.

“I found a SANE exam from a few years ago. Small hospital in southern Colorado, right over the border from Texas. Patient’s name is Jane Doe, but the photos are almost an exact match.” His stomach lurches, dark clouds shadowing his vision, world splitting into blood and rage. Violence.

He didn’t want to be right.

He wanted to it to be anything, anything but this.

Who? 

Is it the same person that choked you? Beat you? Tore your shoulder damn near out of its socket? 

His gaze drifts to Penny.

They'll need to loop Price in, immediately. 

“Can you send it to me?”

“It’s already in your email.” She speeds past, eagerly. “There’s more. I used the photo to run facial recognition on archives in neighboring states and got a host of hits from Texas. You’ll have to visually confirm, but if I’m right, I’ve got positive ID on your girl.”

“How?”

“School. She graduated high school a year before the rest of her class, ended up with a full scholarship to Rice University in Houston, Texas. Went on to get a bioscience degree and graduated from Rice early.” Pride flutters beneath his ribs, honeyed and heavy. Their smart girl. “She ends up at a different school for pre-med but drops out before the first year ends. Not sure what happened but she started an accelerated nursing program, and breezed through it. You should see her transcripts. I don’t think this girl has gotten less than an A+ on anything since kindergarten.”

“Send them over.”

“Already done. After that, she starts work at a local hospital, and then… nothing. Her paper trail stops. Her job disappears. She’s a ghost except for the sealed court records, and now the Jane Doe medical chart, but that didn’t happen until later. The aliases she’s used over the past few years, they’re in the wind. It’s really quite impressive. She’s either got a connection somewhere, or she’s CIA.” Kate is animated, talking quickly, and he interrupts her to get to the question that’s weighing on him, brushing off the latter immediately. You’re not a honeypot. He spots those a mile away.

“You know her name, then. Her birth name?”

“I do.” She’s silent for a moment, and then she gives it softly. First, middle and last.

He closes his eyes. He tries to imagine you as a girl, on the playground, playing tags with other kids, all of them shouting your name, or as a teenager, in a fight with a parent, one of them yelling your name. He pictures you as a uni student, with your friends, laughing and having a good time somewhere, one of them hollering your name over too loud music. You’ve had a whole life with that name, a whole story. You were a person with that name, and he tries to imagine the way it would sound on your tongue, on Johnny’s, even his.

You’re a ghost now, will you let them bring you into the light?

Will you let them help you reclaim it; the way Johnny helped him reclaim his own?

Kate subtly coughs on the other end of the line.

“Thanks, Kate.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll keep digging. Check your email when you get a chance.”

“Will do.”

“Oh! And the hotel, I sent that paperwork to your email as well.” He thanks her, again, tells her to try to enjoy her time off and hangs up just as Penny starts to fidget, unhappy with being in the highchair for so long without attention.

“Alright, lamb. Let’s get you cleaned up, hmm?” He pulls her free, showering kisses all over her cheeks and neck that make her giggle. “Can’t be wearin’ your applesauce and pajamas over to John and Lou’s, can you?”

Johnny is anxious. Simon can see it a mile away, even before he gets in the room, he notices how he is fidgets, unspent energy and too much time to dwell culminating in an unsettled state.

So, when he kisses him first thing, he makes it long and slow. He drags Johnny’s bottom lip between his teeth, carefully taking his time until he’s sure his partner is half hard beneath his hospital gown and blanket.

“Si.” Johnny groans, and he relents, pulling away to cradle his face between his hands, taking him in, every line, every fleck of gold in his blue eyes, soaking up the healing, healthy glow that glimmers in his skin.

His doctor says it won’t be long now, until he can come home, and Simon is counting the days.

To have everyone, under one roof, feels like a fever dream.

“Missed you.” Johnny noses into his neck, and Simon reciprocates with a kiss to his temple, his cheek.

“Missed ye too.” He pauses, squeezing his hand. “Pen?”

“Alright. Grumpy this morning. Think she wanted to see you.” She did, he knows it, but he tries not to pile it on. Johnny knows their daughter misses him, as much as he misses her. They’re two peas in a pod, best friends, halves to a whole. They’re both suffering. “Went with Lou and John fine. I’ll bring her in the morning.”

“Good.” He nods, tilting his chin for another kiss, and Simon gives it without hesitation, basking in the warmth and familiar feel  of his skin.

When he clears his throat, he pulls away with a sigh. “How is she?”

“In pain. Shoulder is nearly torn out of the socket, and her neck is in poor shape. I had to help get her into bed, she couldn’t get her shirt off. Emotionally she’s… still got the walls up, but she let them slip for a second last night, before she let me help her. And I caught her crying in front of the fridge. Think the photos of Pen got to her somehow.” His stomach twists, new, horrifying possibility dawning on him. Do you have a child somewhere? 

“Did she get any sleep?”

“She hadn’t come down when I left to take Penny, so I assume so.”

“Good. She needs it.” Simon agrees. After injury, after trauma, body and mind need so much more care. More rest, more nutrients, water, protein. More love.

“Kate called.” He bites the bullet, fingers flexing against his knee. “She found a loose end and tugged it.” Johnny straightens. He’s every bit the solider, even laid up in bed. Waxy, soft features turn razor sharp and focused, except instead of his practiced steadiness, he’s chomping at the bit.

“Tell me.”

Simon does. He tells him everything Kate said, almost verbatim. Johnny’s face changes from worried to enraged when he finally gets to the medical chart.

“No.” Johnny’s whisper is faint, thin, papyrus. Brittle and broken, almost washed away, and Simon doesn’t blame him. The chart is horrific for them, was horrific for him earlier, turned his stomach until he thought he’d be sick.

He’s killed. He’s tortured. But to be there when Johnny revealed the handprinted tender skin on your neck, to be there when you cried out in pain last night, when he saw the scars on your body, the cigarette burns that were so familiar, to look at these photos and know that you’ve been brutalized beyond belief, makes his vision run red and his heart ache.

There’s a ghost in these photos. A different girl, but the same, a glimpse of what he saw last night. Still their bunny, their girl. He can see her, through the broken blood vessels and compound forearm fracture. He can see her past the swollen cheekbone and broken nose, the fresh burns on your stomach and torso. The doctor’s notes indicate that you said you were mugged, and sexually assaulted, but refused to finish the SANE exam and took off.

He's not surprised. 

The first time he saw the burns on your naked skin, he swore he could his mother’s screams, and for the hundredth time today, Simon thinks of her. He wonders, if she ever went to a hospital, if she ever begged anyone to help her, or them. He wonders if someone saw what was happening, how she was slowly disappearing, sinking in on herself, and tried to help. He wonders if she felt as alone as you seem to. If she too, became a ghost.

He looks at these photos and cannot fight the pain, the memories.

“Oh, Si.” Johnny cups his cheek, thumb soothing softly across his skin, trying to wipe away the tears that fall. He can’t stop them, not now, and Johnny does not ask, only holds him through it, lets him cry into his hands, pain and suffering of a small, frightened boy coming out of his body in broken sobs.

He won’t fail you. Not like he did her.

After minutes turn long, he takes a deep breath, pressing his lips to Johnny’s palm, and utters a promise as cold as death. 

“We’ll kill them. Whoever it is.”

[slayfics]

You and Katsuki exchange Christmas gifts.

You plopped down on your bed and let out an exhausted sigh. Most of your classmates were still in the common room enjoying the holiday party. It was nice to relax and not think about school or hero work for a bit, but after a while you found yourself worn out from so much energy.

As much as you enjoyed yourself it felt nice to be in the quiet of your room relaxing after the busy night. You began to get your bed ready to sleep when a knock on your door startled you.

You opened the door and were surprised to see Katsuki.

"Oh- hey," You greeted him.

"You left early," he observed.

"Yeah," you said stepping aside and allowing him to come into your room. "I guess I was just exhausted from all the socializing," You explained. Katsuki came in and sat on your chair as you shut the door.

"Hm- I get that," He replied.

That was when you noticed that he had a gift bag in his hand.

"Here-," Was all he said as an explanation as he held out the bag to you. Normally giving someone a gift is a sweet gentle gesture, but the intense glare in Katsuki's eyes contradicted his actions. "Take it already dumb ass," he said, shaking the gift at you.

You grabbed the gift and sat opposite of him on your bed, 'You didn't have to-," You began to say but were quickly interrupted.

"Don't give me that you didn't have to crap. Of course, I fucking didn't- but I did, so just open the stupid thing," He barked.

You knew better than to argue with Katsuki, so you took out the haphazardly placed tissue paper to reveal a shoe box. You looked at him curiously.

"Take em' out idiot," He said.

You took out the box and tossed off the lid revealing some hiking boots inside.

"Bakugo these look really expensive I can't-," You said but again found yourself interrupted.

"I'm not taking them back. You like that color right?"

"Yeah, I do- they are really nice but-,"

"No fucking buts. Now your dumb ass won't slip again when we go on hikes," He said.

Your face flushed from the embarrassing memory of when you fell, and because his words indicated he wanted to hike with you again.

"Tch- don't fucking look at me like that! Its... it's not even that big of a deal," He said and looked away from you.

You knew Katsuki enough by now to understand that he only had a rough demeanor because he felt awkward in these situations. Any grand show of emotions would send him running straight out of your room, so you bottled up how truly thankfully you felt and sufficed with a simple, "Thank you Bakugo."

"Yeah whatever," he grumbled jamming his hands into the pocket of his sweats.

"I um- sort of have something for you too," You spoke. You had made something for Katsuki but had debated on giving it to him or not. You found yourself too shy to give it to him tonight in front of the rest of your class, so you never brought it down from your room. However, now that he was in your room and had just given you such a thoughtful gift, you decided it was the perfect time.

"Hu?" He exclaimed shocked and snapped his head to look at you.

You grabbed the gift from under your bed and handed him a sadly wrapped gift.

"This is wrapped like shit," he said as grabbed it from you.

"Oh come on I tried my best. We can't all be naturally good at everything like you!" You teased.

Katsuki let out an amused puff of air as he tore at the wrapping paper. Once he revealed the gift he held it in his hands staring at it for what felt like entirely too long.

You began to feel self-conscious about your gift. It was a painting you made. The painting was a portrait of him in his hero costume, and at the top, you wrote the words "Future #1 Hero".

The longer Katsuki looked at it without saying anything the more you began to panic. You couldn't see his expression at all as his face was hidden by his spiky blond hair.

Shit, it was too dumb and cheesy, wasn't it?? And how cocky of you to think your artwork would constitute a gift.

"If you hate it it's ok! I wasn't even sure I was going to give it to you. Here, it's fine you can just forget about it!" You said nervously and tried to grab at the painting.

Katsuki's grip tightened on the painting as you tried to pull it away, "No!" he barked causing you to jump.

You sat down confused and Katsuki cleared his throat but didn't look up at you yet.

"It's good," He said in a low raspy voice.

You titled your head. Sometimes it was still so hard to read Katsuki's true emotions.

Katsuki stared at the painting trying to get ahold of himself. To see the words at the top "Future #1 Hero" struck something in him that he was trying to push back down. He didn't want to be so vulnerable in front of you but- to see and hold in his hands that someone else was rooting for him meant more to him than he would ever be able to say in words to you.

Finally, he was able to blink away the sting in his eyes that threatened tears. He could hold it back long enough to look at you again.

"I like it," He spoke, giving you not quite a smile- but not a scowl. Which was rare.

"You don't have to lie," you respond.

"I don't lie brat," He said and stood up, eager to leave as the lump in his throat threatened to return again at any more kindness from you.

"You're leaving?" You asked.

"Hm? Yeah- it's late. Looks like I interrupted you going to bed too," He said nodding to your half-turned-down comforter.

"It's fine... you know you're welcome any time..." You said softly.

Katsuki didn't respond but let out a grunt in acknowledgment.

You followed him to the door as he began to open it.

"Bakugo wait-," You said before you lost your nerve to follow through with your impulsive thought.

Katsuki turned around and you quickly pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"Merry Christmas."

"Yeah- merry whatever to you too," He said and turned to leave, a small blush on his cheeks.

Tags: @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle

[iblameashley]

Dating Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Civilian | Male | Gay

Content: Headcanons, Gay stuff, First dates, Budding relationship, Pre-relationship, Alcohol use, Mixed emotions, Military stuff, Guns, etc.

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley | Male

!!!SFW!!!

Note: This is kind of an in between of short-story and bullet point dating headcanons. I've wanted to write this for a while, but lacked motivation to go full story mode... sorry! Also, I do not know UK Gun Laws or how Gun Ranges work there, so just... go with the flow, OK?

It happened weeks ago; Simon stared down at his phone with a sense of dread, though you'd never have known just looking at him. He didn't even know why he had agreed to download this fucking app to begin with, though as usual it was at Soap and Gaz's insistence... and pestering. All he had wanted was some quiet on his day off, not to be harassed by yet another chatty man looking to suck his dick in an alley.

Sighing, he scrolled to the message that had just come in – a handsome young lad with a wide smile and kind eyes. It had started innocently enough, the usual pleasantries first, briefs answers after, and the long wait to see how long it would take to either receive a dick-pic or have a request for one.

Neither happened. In fact, the lad had actually carried on a decent conversation over the course the last few weeks, inquiring about hobbies and interests, career and what he was looking for. But then the lad had asked that they meet up on the upcoming weekend.

It's ironic that Ghost decided to ghost the poor lad. He didn't block him – frankly, he didn't know how – he simply didn't respond and closed the app. It was for the best, at least that's what he told himself, though he had blatantly lied to Gaz and Soap when asked how it was going, claiming all he could find was horny men looking for a quick hookup. Not that Gaz or Soap understood why that was a problem; they assumed Ghost getting laid couldn't make him worse.

But then they found out he lied, a casual glance at his phone when a message came in, and then another, asking about the date and apologizing if he had offended Simon.

Its rare that anyone could corner Ghost, but that's just what Soap and Gaz did, hounding their commanding officer until he ran out of excuses.

“Ye owe the lad an explanation.” Soap chided him, a finger pointed in his face.

“Agreed, you can't leave the lad hanging!” Gaz chimed in with a disgruntled look on his face.

So Simon agreed to apologize and reply to the poor lad, and even agreed to a date. He was ready for this, he knew he was charming and could flirt with the best of em', he just had no need to before. He simply wasn't interesting in dating.

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Cuppa

Simon: He felt nervous for this date, in many ways it felt like a blind date since he had only ever seen your face in a few pictures. He dressed nicely (Button-down, fitted jeans, boots and some cologne was dabbed behind his ears where the mask hooked), He was confident, pleasant, charming and funny throughout the date. But he saw the way you looked at him with every passing question and answer and was beginning to think this was a mistake. You weren't compatible... but why did that bother him?

You: You arrived early and found a nice little table at the cafe to wait for Simon. To say you were surprised by the giant of a man who appeared would be an understatement. As you both settled in and ordered drinks, you attempted to dive right into it. Your talk walk halting and awkward as Simon dodged most questions about himself with grunts, shrugs or one-word answers. His insistence on using terrible puns and dad-jokes made it more difficult to get to know him. It was frustrating, to say the least, but you persisted. He did at least ask some questions about you, which eased things, but you knew that if this was all he was willing to give, it would be difficult to go on more dates, let alone start a relationship.

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Movie and Dinner

Simon: Of course Simon would agree to a movie date followed by dinner. It meant that he got to sit in silence and darkness for about two hours, and then could have a bite to eat after where you would likely do a majority of the talking. He had already tried his best on the first date, it was up to you to pick up the slack this time. The movie went fine for the most part, except when you grabbed his arm during a jump-scare that made him roll his eyes.

Over dinner, he picked away at the curry on his plate while you discussed the movie. He was surprised by your review of the movie and its themes and found himself agreeing with you on many points. Maybe you weren't such a terrible date after all. He decided to pay for dinner, despite your protests.

You: It was stupid of you to choose a thriller for a movie date, but you really wanted to see the movie and no one else would go with you. Since Simon agreed, you made it a date and added dinner after. Thank the good Lord it was dark in the theatre; you turned bright red at the jump scare and felt bad for grabbing Simon's arm. You felt the way he tensed, but were too embarrassed to apologize to him.

Dinner went much better and Simon actually became more engaging as you discussed the movie and its plot. He seemed to enjoy your nerding out and even cracked a small smile.

As dinner came to an end, you thanked him for the (genuinely) enjoyable night and get ready to pay, since the date was your suggestion. Simon wouldn't allow it and ended up paying regardless. Maybe this lumbering, awkward man wasn't so bad after all.

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Pub Trivia

Simon: Simon's intelligence isn't limited to Military knowledge, so he decided to take you to a pub trivia night, though he couldn't understand why he had this continued desire to impress you. You. Just some civilian who had taken an interest in him.

In between the rounds and pints, he started to talk to you about his mates Gaz and Soap who gave him the idea for this date. You'd like them, he was sure, but it was too early for you to be meeting his friends, he was sure to remind you.

You: You couldn't deny the Simon was an encyclopedia of general knowledge, his brain was like a sponge, it seemed. He had filled in the sheets of answers rather quickly each round, but you got the chance to flex your brain full of useless pop culture knowledge in the last few rounds.

What really entertained you though, was that the drunker this man got, the more he was willing to open up to you... you should have got him pissed sooner. You laughed when he reminded you it was too early to meet his friends, despite never asking to. This man was ridiculous and in its own way, it was endearing.

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Aquarium

Simon: He had agreed to a date with you a few weeks prior but had to cancel due to deployment. He promised he'd take you out when he got back, but by the time the mission was over and he returned to base he didn't want to do the obstacle course. You surprised him when you offered a less energy-intensive option, and here he was at the aquarium now.

As you two strolled leisurely through the dark hallways of glass staring at a multitude of sea creates, Simon found himself actually relaxing; something he was unaccustomed to after a long mission. You stood unreasonably close, but he allowed it, figuring you were uncomfortable with all the other people wandering close by.

A brief stop at the aquarium cafeteria (for an unimpressive meal that would have made the mess hall staff on base look like Michelin Star chefs), filled the both of you up enough to know you'd make it to dinner and something more satisfying.

You managed to convince Simon to take a walk through the gift shop, and ended up buying him a pack of face masks with a shark-teeth pattern on them. He was surprised and delighted, though he wouldn't admit that to you.

You: Your heart sank when Simon tried to cancel the date - but you also understood he just came back from deployment. Maybe you were getting to know him better between the dates and texting, but you could feel his exhaustion, so you offered an alternative; a stroll through the aquarium.

It was rather cold in the building and you found yourself drifting towards Simon... that's how it started anyway. He smelled good too, and you felt comfortable with him. You desperately wanted to hold his hand, but figured that was a boundary too far for right now.

You treated him to food in the cafeteria, swallowing it hard and trying to hide your dissatisfaction with the offerings while he ate everything on his plate with his usual impassive face.

There was no plan to buy anything from the gift shop, you just liked wandering them to see what was there... but the sight of the face masks was too good to pass up. Simon always showed up to a date in a mask, and only took it off when eating, drinking or for a quick smoke. So it seemed fitting and perfect get these shark-print ones for him. You thought you could see a smile under his current mask as you handed them to him.

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Shooting Range

Simon: Simon was absolutely intent on showing off his sharpshooting skills to you. It was the closest thing to 'giddy' that he allowed himself to feel as he drove you to the range. Simon is an expert in his field, matched only by sparingly few men - and several good women too.

But there was also a feeling of caution and anxiety as you both signed in and got your gear ready. Simon watched like a hawk as you eyed the guns over before making a few selections. A Glock 17, Mossberg 500 and M4 Carbine... Interesting selections.

This was as handsy as Simon had ever been with someone, ensuring that your safety gear was secure and that you followed instructions to the letter. He was already hesitant about this activity to begin with, but you seemed genuinely interested.

Simon ensured that you paid close attention, and that he assisted you with aiming as well as stood close by as you fired. What he wasn't expecting was your proficiency with the Mossberg. You each took turns firing at targets, and to no surprise to either of you, Simon was the winner... though there were no winners, it was all in good fun. But if there were, Simon would have won.

You: You chose the Glock because it had always fascinated you, the Mossberg because you grew up in the country and were familiar with similar shotguns and the Carbine because it seemed the most military of the selection.

You couldn't stop the thrill that ran through you as Simon checked all your gear and guns, ensuring everything was secure and safeties were on before going straight into his lecture about gun safety. You listened to him speak with confidence and authority, happy to see him in his element. You wanted to make sure you gave him and the guns the respect they deserved and did everything he said without question - or at least with very little question.

Your heart raced as Simon kept close. You knew very little about guns overall, but the way he pressed himself against you to help you aim, the calm voice he spoke in as he guided you, the feeling of his hand on your back as he stepped away to let you take the shot. You were melting with happiness.

The biggest thrill was when you fired the Mossberg several times. The look on Simon's face was priceless as you expertly handled the shotgun and even gave him a run for his money with your accuracy, but that was a secret to share another time.

You gracefully conceded your defeat to the expert in front of you, but couldn't help but notice what might have been pride in his look as he reviewed your targets one last time.

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Cooking Class(es)

Simon: It's not that Simon is bad at cooking - he's really not - but he didn't have the opportunity to flex his skill often, and he had a select few dishes that he excelled at. So when you suggested this date, he was a bit apprehensive.

But Simon was a man used to following orders - usually - and listened intently to everything that was explained to him, so he settled in at the table next to you and took charge.

He needed a bowl? You had it for him already. Needed something washed? It was already done and drying. Missing ingredient? Nope, on your left. Simon appreciated your own attentiveness to the task, and how you made it go so much more smoothly.

And then the dessert section came up, and Simon floundered. Hard. Main courses aren't a challenge for him, but Simon doesn't bake. Not for a lack of interest, but a lack of time usually.

You picked up the slack though, and he reluctantly ceded control to you, letting you guide him in making the Zeppole.

Simon's demeanour softened as the class came to an end and you both sat there sampling the homemade ravioli, a glass of wine and eventually the Zeppole.

Before you parted ways, you gave Simon a tight hug, demanding he return it otherwise you weren't letting go. Simon decided to simply return the hug instead of forcing you off him.... not because he actually liked the hug from you.

You: Simon seemed to be taking this class very seriously from the moment he arrived. He stood in a typical rigid manner while listening and nodding along as instructions were given. The only thing missing was a few 'Yes sir!' replies.

The man made a complete mess though, and you found yourself quickly cleaning up after him in an attempt to keep up with his pace. But even still, you had fun. You got him the things you both needed for the meal, made sure the table was tidy and even engaged in some small talk.

It took everything in you to not laugh out loud as you say the panic in Simon's eyes as he read the instructions for the dessert. It was like he was reading a completely different language and, after a few failed starts, you took over and guided him.

As the class came to an end, and you could both indulge in the meal you created together. You clinked your wine glass against his and took a bite of the ravioli that was mostly his handiwork. It was good! Dessert wasn't too bad either and Simon gave a contented smile as he ate the last of the Zeppole.

You both relaxed on a nearby bench after the class for a few minutes, letting the meal settle in your stomachs before Simon explained he needed to get back to base. You stood up to say your goodbyes, but noticed how he lingered. How he hovered over you; closer than you were accustomed to from him. Taking the chance, you stepped closer and wrapped your arms around his waist and lowered your head into the crook of his neck. He stood there awkwardly for a moment, and you begin to worry you misread the situation; joking that you weren't going to let go until he reciprocated, and gently his hands found their way to your backside and pulled you into the best hug you've ever had. Simon held on longer than you did, though you never truly let go until his hands fell to his sides.

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[broooooo]

Latex freedom

It was as if it was yesterday

I can still feel the pleasure, the euphoria of freedom that I gained.

_

I'm Asher, 20 years old and I don't have much going for myself.

I live in a world where latex rubber drones Rome, as if it's a rite of passage amongst society, to be assimilated is seen as an honour, whether or not you want it or not.

I love alone in a small apartment, iv always felt trapped inside my home, my parents were overwhelming and overprotective, so iv always been alone and outcasted, and now I'm alone, I want to be free to do what I've missed out on, yet I'm stuck .. emotions stop me, iv never been sexually active before, idk what it feels like..

How I wish I knew

_

I watch on my phone one night, as usual I witness the conversions of people, public or In private, seeing how they change , it makes my heart hurt for what I don't have

That is when I got a message from someone I recognise...

His name was once Aaron, we actually live in the same building,were neighbours and old class mates...to be truthful , yet we have never interacted, IV only ever seen him from outside my window peeking through curtains , really I idolized him, he's everything I wanted to be

He recently was assimilated .. I heard he had what could only be described as a, divine enlightenment, I can still hear his moans in my head,

The name on the message was -# 6923

The name he gained after it was complete, Aaron can still be used, yet only in private and usually only between friends .

I'm surprised to get a message, I wonder what it's about and start imagining it, before going on it to read it .. it seems the opportunity has arrived.

An opportunity for freedom ..

Aaron - hey what's up neighbour?

Me- i- hello ...I'm doing fine . I guess.

Aaron- nice to hear... How would you like to hang with me?

Me- (huh? ...Heart beating) - i- sure.. I don't mind.

Aaron - I'll come over to yours tomorrow at 12,ok?

Me- ok..

-that is where it ended .

I could already guess the outcome of tomorrow, yet I'm scared and excited, will my emotions hold me back once more .or?

It was hard to sleep with my mind in a frenzy, it was a sudden difference in my life I want to take advantage of.

_

Come morning, I wake up and immediately get ready. Not like there's much to do

I'm usually tidy but it didn't Hurt to freshen up a bit.

I want to look presentable but all my clothes are baggy and worn, le sigh ... It will have to do

Come 12- I'm nervous...

I can hear to stomp of leather boots . .then a slight nock at the door.

It was him...

I run to the door and gently open it. There he was, a tall muscular young man, leather boots and .. her wore some tight leather pants, a latex t-shirt and gloves.

Although the regular drone latex suit is also worn by some, once a drone, you still are yourself and remember everything, dressing up in different types of latex and leather is something that can be done.

His long white blonde hair flows and his piercing blue eyes...

Errr hi ... Come in, i say

Aaron smiles , hello neighbour. As he walks in.

The sent of latex in the air

I close the door and we both sit down, I had brought orange soda for us to drink and chat.

_

Aaron then speaks up . So how have you been recently Asher? He says with a warm smile

I- iv been fine .. I guess I say in a slight down tone, my eyes looking out the window ..

Aaron puts down his drink and shuffles over to me .. he mildly embraces me with a soft hug. In a soft voice ... It must be hard to live alone like this... Ik how you feel...

I look to him, I can feel his warm energy.. I speak in a somber tone ...

So... You've heard my cries .. haven't you?

(he had always worried if his floor would notice his breakdowns.. whether or not they did, I guess it would be awkward to ask what the sound was )

Aaron then He says in a soft voice.. y yes.... It seems your bedroom is behind mine.... Iv heard it all.

I become embarrassed instantly... Oh I'm so sorry you had to hear all that... I say in a rushed tone.

Aaron Giggles slightly. It's fine it's fine.. ik how you feel, I felt the same way before

He puts his hand on mine.. it's the first time iv felt latex like this before..

I rub my hand against it,, it's soft and warm..

Aaron smiles at me.. nice isn't it?

I blush slightly out of embarrassment.. ehe it is... I guess..

Then sigh... I say sadly... How do you know it will work for me? I don't even know what being turned on feels like.. iv never had a boner before.

Aaron smiles. And softly rubs my hand. I understand your concern Asher.. you don't need to worry. I'm here to slowly guide you.

I felt concerned when I heard your cries .. and knew if I came over. Maybe I could help free you from that pain

Hearing this I let out a tear and and hug Aaron.. (I can hear his heart)

I - thank you.. but I don't even know how to even begin.....

Aaron hugs me back.. don't worry .. leave that up to me.

When we superate Aaron takes his glove off ..

He says In a soft voice holding it out towards me,

Just like he did for me..I will be here along side you ,

I look at the glove a bit shocked... But don't you need it?

He giggles, he puts his hand up and I witness latex forming around the skin into a new glove ..

I stare mesmerized by what I just saw... Wow I say.

Aaron then picks up the glove and motions to me hand, Cinderella style , he gently slides the glove onto my hand,..

This is the first step aaron says in a calm voice . The key is your imagination, if you fantasize and dream about it, it can become reality no matter what.. ik you want this... And I will be a door away if you want company.

I smile... Thank you Aaron..

_

After a nice chat and drinks we parted ways and I've as again alone

I go to my bed a turn on the TV to the assimilation channel to watch others become drones

Listening to the sounds.. the pleasure they experience.. the complete freedom they gain..

Siting up back against a pillow

I look at my hand, it's still very much gloved in latex .

I put my hand against my face , smelling it, feeling it, tasting it...

It felt soft and warm like him, it smelled.. like him.,

My mind had been in a state I'd never known , it felt so good I didn't want to leave, like a dream... I remember his words.. dream and it will become reality..,

i didn't know if I was sleeping or not , but to dreamt about it.. iv watched enough porn and transformations to get the general idea of what it looks like..

To be horny... Yes .. I want to be horny ... I want to get a boner. I want to goon and leak... I want to cum

Then I wake up from my state, I was hot , and steamy? My gloved hand still against my face I pull away .

But then my eyes widened, my heart races, emotion clogs my throat. And I'm on the verge of tears..

It was my dick.. i finally got one.. a Boner . The biggest smile on my face

With speed I striped fully naked and in a heartbeat I used my latex hand and went to town.

Ha hahahaha so this is.... What it feels like..m my eyes gloss over in my new found pleasure.... I was so happy. I started to drool, the smell his latex still on my face and mind

I started to leak pre, it was a sight beyond my wildest dreams. .

Haha ha has I awwww , i laugh , moan and cry, ... Fully immersed in my feelings....

It felt like a lifetime of pain had been lifted

I, I was doing it

I had a throbbing hard dick and I was so horny . I wish this I could be like this forever..

Then the climax ... Through Drool, and pree my eyes roll back in supreme pleasure as I cum for the first time..

Ropes upon ropes of cum spewed all over me, my mind shut of from the pleasure as my dick kept shooting cum....

it felt like a blissful dream , I fell asleep, dreaming of it again, I wanted to cum more.. i wanted more latex ..

With that thought the cum around his body had soaked into his skin and latex blossomed

It slowly covered Asher's body, building his muscles up and giving him a large dick, balls so large he will never run out of cum. A dick meant for a horny drone...

Yes .. he thought .. he can see and feel in , he can see it happening in his dream, latex covering him. .. large heavy leather boots form on his feet. A tight latex t shirt... Tight bondage straps .. leather pant... And a cool latex tie .. a fun drone uniform . . Just like him..m just like Aaron ...his idol ,The one who gave him freedom... The freedom to cum, to be horny .. he felt so aroused , he was ready to be. Drone, ready, to .obey.. ready to cum

Programing set in as his new drone identity was made...

Drone 6924..

A perfect neighbour number...

Hehe he smiled ..

Thank you.. so much.....aaron... He thought before finally falling into a blissful but horny sleep

When asher woke up he was smiling, his dick was hard and leaking from within his pants . He was so happy it wasn't a dream ...

He was so happy... So horny..

Awww he moaned..

He got a sudden text . He looked over to it .

Aaron - must of had a great time Asher .. I'm proud.. I told you it would work : D

Me- i- it was like nothing I'd ever experienced... I I can't thank you enough....

Aaron- your welcome .. drone 6924-

Now why don't you come over and we hang? You can join me for your first assignment.. then maybe can . Have some fun.. together?

Me- I'll be right over. .. drone 6923

The thought of seeing him again made me cum in pleasure .

The cum gets soaked into my latex skin , my dick still hard and leaking.

Forever horny and ready to cum . Just like a good drone should be

Asher got up. Admiring his new body , and loving it all, the boots giving him a kick of pleasure

He was so happy, he finally achieved his dream of freedom from his life, his depressing feelings

No more he said. His dick ready to go, he walks over to Aaron's door and nocks

The beginning of his new life as a horny rubber drone.

O: a late night story for you all. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed it

Xoxo- drone 6923- and 6934

[oh-stars]

Surrender

Love is letting someone take care of you.

a @steddielovemonth prompt | 1,607 words | CW: injury | Rating: G

---

Steve has tried really hard these last five years to be more than what others expect of him. At first, it was just about being a better person and not the dickhead kid he used to be. That was easy enough, to choose kindness over the cruel words and inaction, but he didn’t realize there would be so much involved in being a better person overall, like beyond not kicking people when they’re down or holding open the door for a stranger, fundamentally changing the way he thinks to be a better friend and man. 

He’s not stupid, no matter what his dad always says. He knows there are cultural differences between guys and girls, but he also knows a lot of that is bullshit and misogynary (or whatever the word Robin is always saying) – that it comes from hating women and people who are different.

Steve’s thought a lot about manliness over the last few years. He doesn’t have a sister and other than Carol, who was always ‘one of the guys’ in Steve’s eyes, he really doesn’t have much experience hanging out with girls he’s not actively trying to date. Now he gets a ton of one-on-one time with women without the haze of attraction or ulterior motives. He’s seen the guys Max and Eleven giggle over in their magazines and none of them are the action stars they’re supposed to be drooling over – it’s all the cute guys with soft looks and kind eyes. 

He gets it now. Especially when he wakes up in the morning and looks down to find the hottest guy of them all curled up on his chest. Eddie’s not the epitome of masculinity, nor is Steve, but that doesn’t make them any less of a man. Their sexualities, interests, the way they share their emotions – none of that makes them more or less of a man. 

After years and years of relearning what being a man means to him, you would think Steve wouldn’t fall into the same stereotypes of his fellow men. And yet… 

He adjusts his grip on the crutches. It’s been hell trying to get inside, taking ages so he doesn’t fall again and break his other leg. Should he have called someone? Yes. Should he let Eddie know he needs a hand? Absolutely. Will he be admitting defeat? Never. He doesn’t even really understand why, if he’s honest. It’s not like Hopper’s going to come speeding down, sirens blazing, and demand Steve hand over his Man Card because he asked for help. 

Steve manages to make it to the door, out of breath and sweating under his coat and layers. He leans against the doorframe as he digs for his keys. It takes way too much effort, but eventually, he’s able to get inside. Steve drops his bag, then walks carefully to the couch, cringing with each swing-step he takes as his snowy boot tracks water all along the rug. 

“Steve?” 

Fuck. He knew Eddie would be home, he saw his van in the driveway after all, but Steve still hoped he’d be out or that one of the guys swung by and picked him up. It’s not like he could hide this from him, but it would be nice to have a bit more time to figure out his story. Because Eddie finding out means Steve has to admit he was wrong in the first place. 

“Yeah,” he calls back as he tugs off his lone boot, his other one is still on the floorboard of his car, and sets the crutches down beside him. He lifts his broken leg up, the action stiff with how awkward and new the cast feels and quickly covers it with a blanket. It’ll buy him some time. 

“I was wondering where you went,” Eddie says as he slides into the living room on his socks. He’s already in his sleepwear: one of Steve’s old shirts, Steve’s favorite sweatpants that are too big for him, and Steve’s gym socks. It hits him that he won’t be able to wear Eddie’s sweats, the ones he’s stretched out and are so thin they may as well be threads held together by dreams, until he gets this cast off. Well shit. 

Eddie pauses for just a moment before he’s walking over and sitting on the ottoman in front of Steve. “You’re wearing your coat still,” he says.” 

Steve shrugs and hugs his chest. “I’m cold.” 

“Why don’t you go shower and warm up?” Eddie asks, face neutral but his eyes tell a different story. He’s suspicious. How is he already catching on? Steve’s like the king of stealth. 

“I don’t feel like washing my hair right now,” he says instead. “I just want to lay here for a bit.” 

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “It’s Thursday,” Eddie says, “it’s your hair washing day according to your meticulous hair schedule. And you don’t want to wash it?” 

Steve can only shrug again. “Maybe later?” 

“Right, right,” Eddie says. He leans forward and kisses him all sweetly. Eddie brushes a hand through Steve’s hair and it nearly brings him to tears, if he’s honest. His body is sore, there’s probably a bruise the size of Alaska on his back and ass, and his leg is starting to hurt more now that his meds are wearing off. It’s been a harrowing few hours of trying to get to the hospital, being seen and dealing with the horrors of doctors and nurses touching him (he can’t even begin to think about how he’ll react to getting the cast removed, the saw too much like the one the Russian wanted to use–), and now that it’s all over and Eddie’s being sweet… Steve just wants to give up the charade.

“Baby,” Eddie says softly, “talk to me.” 

Steve looks up, blinking away the tears and leans into Eddie’s touch. “I fell,” he mumbles, cheeks hot. It’s so humiliating. He’s a grown man. So he fell? Big deal. But he fell doing a thing that Eddie told him he should probably wait to take care of until someone else could spot the ladder, that Steve made a bigger deal about doing it solo because he’s Steve. 

“On the ice?” 

He shakes his head and drops his eyes back down to Eddie’s. He watches in real time as Eddie realizes what Steve means, as confusion morphs into shock then concern. “Stevie,” he whispers, “how bad is your leg?” 

Steve pauses. “How did you know it was my leg?” 

Eddie pointedly looks at the crutches leaning against the arm of the couch. Oh. 

He sighs. “It's a clean break,” he says. “But I broke my tibula.” 

“Your tibia or your fibula?” Eddie asks, no judgment in his words. 

“Honestly, couldn’t tell you. Paperwork is in my bag though.” 

Eddie laughs softly and leans forward to kiss Steve’s cheek. “I’ll look later. How are you feeling?” 

“Everything hurts,” he says with only the hint of a whine. It’s like he’s accidentally given his body permission to feel everything. Steve reaches for the blanket, tugging it off his leg to show his foot and knee wrapped in a cast. “I have to wear it for two months.” 

“Shit, Stevie,” Eddie says, moving to squeeze himself onto the edge of the sofa. He leans over Steve, boxing him in. “You know, you’ve got to be more careful,” he says as he takes Steve’s face in his hands, “if you want to grow old together like you’re always talking about, then you’ve got to actually get there. And that starts with taking care of yourself.” 

Steve sighs. “I can take care of myself–” 

“But let me help,” Eddie says, leaning forward again to kiss Steve’s forehead. “Not because you need it, but because I want to. Why make things harder on yourself just to prove a point?” 

He doesn’t have much to say to that. 

Eddie pushes himself up and stands. “I know you wanted to make a roast for dinner, but want to get take out and smoke some? May help with the aches?” 

Steve nods and scoots forward so he can wrestle his way out of his coat. “You can’t baby me the whole time I’m in this cast, by the way.” 

“Oh, I could,” Eddie says, “but I do actually want to stay together by the time you get it off, so I’ll let you do some things by yourself.” He takes Steve’s jacket and grabs a few pillows to prop up Steve’s leg. “Will you let me take care of you tonight, though?” 

He feels so helpless and embarrassed to need the help, but with the way Eddie’s looking at him, Steve can’t tell him no. “Please?” 

Eddie beams as he basically skips to the coat closet. 

All Steve can do is watch as Eddie flits around the house: getting the good cuddling blankets and the pillows off their bed, grabbing his lunchbox, bringing Steve a pop to drink, all while he orders food from their favorite takeout place, phone sandwiched against his ear. 

He hates how nice it feels to be taken care of, especially over something as silly as a broken leg from a dumb mistake. Who takes down Christmas lights by themselves after a frost? Knowing their ladder is finicky at best on a good day? He was asking to fall off the roof! He should be glad he didn’t break more than his leg! 

But it’s a little easier to let it happen than it had been when they first started dating. He’s not perfect, he can be too proud sometimes, but he’s working on it. 

---

Thank you @lady-lostmind for betaing this fic!

Ao3 Link

[kneelingshadowsalome]

OK, I know you just re-opened ur asks (but please take a break if you need it!!) But the thought of Girl dad König has plagued my mind ever since that one post.

He's super protective. He's one of those "you're not dating until you're 35" or "I know how boys are like. They only want you for one thing," dads 🙄.

Any boy his daughter manages to bring around will only be threatened. König will accidentally drop one of the largest knives from his collection right in front of her boyfriend and be like "oops🙂".

Speaking of knives, all of his weapons will be stored away once his daughter is born. He doesn't want to risk her finding them and hurting herself.

Gosh. Girl dad!König is every fuckboy’s nightmare!

Manages to chase away even the good guys, every boy his daughter braves to bring home is a no-go for him. A bunch of losers and wankers, all of them, and after his pretty girl! Psh.

You could be kinder than Tom Hiddleston and you still wouldn’t be considered worthy of dating König’s daughter. Every candidate is sent home with their tail between their legs after an awkward, cold family dinner and a bunch of questions that feel like an interview. Or an interrogation... You desperately try to treat these boys with some level of respect, curiosity and warmth – to be honest they appear far more gentle and emotionally available than, ahem, certain someone you dated back in the day when he was not yet a Colonel.

And the father-daughter relationship is fucked up in more ways than one, because König tries to fix his emotional issues and the fact that he’s away most of the time by getting his daughter anything she needs. She wants to try ballet when she’s six? She gets the cutest pink princess tutu skirt and pointe shoes money can buy. Oh, now she’s into horseback riding? Suddenly she has private lessons with the best teacher in town, dons 500 e leather boots, a nice little riding crop and a test winner helmet + gets anything else she can dream of when tending to the horses. (You had to actively stop König from buying her a horse when she was 10)

Cello classes, gaming PC’s, downhill ski equipment, expensive yoga retreats – daddy's girl gets it all because König has to spoil her to bits. Not that he actively tries to carve out a brat of her by this princess treatment: he just wants his girl to have access to anything she wants. His Vögelchen is so talented in everything she picks up!

König shows pics of his daughter to his colleagues: look, she learned to swim when they were on vacation in Maldives! And look, here she won the local stable’s jumping competition, isn't she amazing? Now she’s into archery, and has her own recurve bow, but lately she’s started to get interested in boys, and you know what that means… Curfews, screen time and more chores! And NO BOYS.

She’s “only” 19, and comes home drunk once, brought by some young clown who, in König’s mind, tries to evade responsibility by giving him a sob story about how he only wanted to bring his daughter home because he was worried about her and well, actually, he’s in love with her… She’s a good girl and he wants to take care of her, he really appreciates her and blablabla, König is not impressed. That boy gets himself an earful as a reward, he's lucky König doesn’t slam a knife on the hood of that car.

(....No one has the courage to tell dad König that her daughter likes to smoke weed with the bad boys and dates some older biker guy from big city :”)

[the-fiction-witch]

Arrangement

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Sweet + Flirty

I approached the impressive house feeling rather sheepish in my slightly more upper-class clothes, no stained sleeves today it was not the day for them. I had been considering settling down for a while now as life in port victory had become more comfortable and the time just seemed right, I had wanted to go about it on my own when a man In my ward happened to ask me about my marital status, I believed at the time he was merely making conversation with me, so I told him and here we are three months later and I'm in an arranged marriage with his daughter. It's been a funny few months… But it was nice not to have to do the whole, courting and engagement business, plus her father is the third richest man in port victory after the governor, and captain gains, and she is his only child meaning she is certain to inherit the fortune, and house, and business, so… that's a bonus. We are to meet today for the first time and in a week we shall be married.

He had floated the idea of meeting her on our wedding day but I nicked that idea quickly, I at least want to meet her before we go through with his… just in case she's nuts. I approached the impressive house second only to the governor's estate where I saw Mr Y/l/n, his wife and his daughter. I wanted not to look at her wanting to save my reaction but I couldn't help but glance, She stood trying to hide her rage inside a blank emotionless expression, her black gown across her body, her boots against the gravel and her velvet gloves across her hands, her long Y/c/H hair braided down her back with gladiolus flowers and looked only at the gravel. She kept her eyes on the roses in the arch around the house's door, her mother and father beside her as they waited. She was angry but clearly, I couldn't reveal her emotions, she had worn a slightly more funeral wardrobe you'd imagine the bride to be in white, cream or something else light not pure black this was her protest, and my first thought was I looked at her.

'She's quite pretty,' "Ahh Doctor Dawkins Pleasure to see you again, been too long since I saw my soon to be son in law," Mr Y/l/n smiled as he offered his hand, I took his hand and gave it a firm shake doing my best to be confident, "Yes of course Pleasure to see you again Sir." "And of course my sweet wife Elis," He introduced, she came forward in her sweet dress and slightly curtsied to me, "Pleasure to meet you, Mrs Y/l/n," I smiled at her doing my best to be polite and respectful as I know she reads lips mostly, She smiled and finally I was introduced to her.

"And of course, it is my pleasure to introduce you, Doctor Dawkins, to my beautiful, beloved daughter Y/n Y/m/n Y/l/n, You're bride-to-be." I finally got a good look at her, her gloved hands in front of her stomach politely, she was beautiful and her body was certainly attractive I wouldn't mind being married to that, I suppose I will be. She looked like a painting with a distant beauty as if I could look but not touch. I wanted to stroke her sweet cheek, to run my finger across her red lips, she was breathtaking the more I looked at her and I admit I was a little speechless which is rare for me. I did my best to be confident and charming even if this was a little awkward when remembering in a week I'll be married to her and all I know is her name. It hit me as I looked at her, this was real this girl is really the woman I'm getting married to, this is really my bride, But I admit… I kinda can't wait to get to know her.

I tried to find the words for a moment but forced my nervousness away and did my best to be confident, and passionate, and show her love and affection as we only had a week to get to know one another before the wedding, and I didn't want her to feel I was just going through the motions with her, If I wanted this beautiful woman to be my wife I have to win her over or I'd possibly lose her, and I didn't dare want to lose her to any other man. As I looked at her… I felt like, I wanted to see her every day, I wanted her to be the girl I come home to, and I wanted to be the man she wanted to wake up to for the rest of our lives. I wanted to show her how good a husband I'd be for her and sweep her off her feet.

I finally got some courage and spoke up, "Miss Y/l/n, you're even lovelier than I had imagined, forgive me if I stare I am not used to seeing ladies as sweet as you," I told her, why do I feel so nervous? maybe she really is just that pretty. She hadn't even said anything and I felt like a teenager asking his first girl out, but I wanted to make a good first impression on the woman I was to marry.

She rolled her eyes before they met my own for a few seconds, she glanced me up and down almost inspecting me but that was fair she had never seen me before and I was to be her husband I didn't mind she wanted to have a bit of a judge, her eyes lingered on my hair and the side of her nose twitched like a little rabbit, I know that look, she wants to fix my hair for some reason. She rolled her shoulders a little and offered her gloved hand, "Pleasure Doctor Dawkins," she said trying to hide her anger behind politeness and it not really working, Ohh? She's feisty and pretty, I like her attitude. She took her hand away and briefly wiped the hand I kissed on the skirt of her dress before her father spoke up, "Now come along, let's take the newly engaged couple on their first walk around the garden" he said more to his wife before leading her to the gardens for a walk Y/n rolled her eyes as her parents before she offered her arm to me so she could be lead on the walk.

I smiled rather eagerly not wanting to waste our time together, I took her arm and began to lead her like a gentleman behind her parents on a nice walk in the gardens it felt rather… storybookish, as I led her on our first stroll as an engaged couple she didn't look at me keeping her eyes on the plants so I broke our quiet. "Something wrong with my lips?" I teased her, "Pardon?" She asked her voice like warm milk and honey, like satin across my ears that certainly is a voice I could get used to. "You wiped my kiss," I reminded her, "I don't know where you've been," She answered with a serious tone as we walked, I laughed a moment "Uhh how do you want me to answer? that I've been kissing the hands of beautiful ladies? or performing surgery? or been down the disorderly house?" "I don't know how you spend your time doctor," she briefly met my eyes before returning her view to the flowers,

I didn't want to admit how I spent my time, that's not the best idea… so I decided to well… lie. But I need to impress her, "well, for your information, I spend my time at the orphanage, tending to the children's scrapes and bruises. it may not be the most prestigious way to spend time, but I find it very rewarding." I told her as gentlemanly as I could, I didn't exactly want to tell her I spent my nights in the cat and bagpipes with a girl on my knee gambling my money away on cards. she chuckled a moment biting her lip before she spoke shooting me a glare "Is that so?" "Yes it is, I take great pride in it," "Port Victory doesn't have an orphanage." She reminded, Shit. Well, she's got me there… I'm in too deep, lie my way out of this! "Well… how would you know, Miss Y/l/n? Have you ever been to the orphanage in the town?" I asked trying to tease her "as a matter of fact I have, I have visited all three of the orphanages within the country, Father patrons two of them and I personally patron the other with my allowance from the stock father invested in my name when I was young," she explained with a wicked smirk, "and I have never heard of you visiting any of them Doctor Dawkins," Ahh… well shit. she's really calling me out right now? I have to admit… I kinda like it, she's a little tease, it's refreshing and… a little sexy, Humm my little firecracker.

"Well…umm…yeah…I've been busy…" I lied, doing my best to get out of this without it being completely exposed that I lied to her the very first conversation we had, that's not the best start, and I didn't want to tell her the truth that's not exactly going to impress her. "So shall I ask again how you spend your time doctor?" She glared, "You are to be my husband there is no purpose lying to me, I'll find out once we are married anyway" She sighed, even the word husband was hard for her to say the word married sounded like a foreign language in her mouth, I smiled and sighed. I am defeated in this argument. I know I can't lie any longer. she's found me out and it looks like I going to have to come clean. she's right…she's going to be my wife. there's no sense in trying to lie or hide it from her…I have to come clean, I pause for a moment and decide how to answer. "I'm a gambler and a man of debauchery…just like most other men." "I see," she said avoiding my eyes seeming to not react at all she's not angry or shocked. she doesn't seem to care. I thought I'd been caught but she's not mad…she's not even surprised… that's a bad sign… "What is your game? When you gamble?" She spoke up as we walked, I smiled, thankful that she was keeping the conversation going. "I'm quite fond of high-stakes poker. I've been known to bet the shirt off my back for a good hand. I also know my way around a game of dice…."

she chuckled "Risk drunk sort of man I see?" She smiled wickedly and tightened her grip on my arm a little as we walked, "I prefer rummy myself but I don't dislike poker I find it more a game of reading people than reading cards" I was a little surprised at my proper little lady, "Sure, reading people is important. but it's a game of luck more than anything else. when the cards are in your favour, nothing else matters. I know what I'm doing when it comes to cards. I've won plenty of times against people with way too much money and way too little sense…" "umm you shall have to give me a game later in the parlour" "Really? Do you want to play me in a match of cards? I warn you…I'm quite the card shark… don't expect me to go easy on you just because we're engaged," "I assure you I can handle myself" she winked, I smirked at her little wink, she's an exceptionally sassy little minx and I love it! I'd been used to playing with the rough and rowdy men at the tavern but… to imagine a future where I come home from work to my beautiful wife to a nice dinner and we cosy up in the parlour with a game of cards, I'm not sure I could be happier?

I rather think I might be getting a little smitten with her. she's intelligent, articulate, and not easily intimidated. she's also beautiful, passionate, and charismatic. she's an amazing person, and I am feeling more and more attracted to her with every moment that passes "I will certainly give you a game later then," "I look forward to it, what else do you do between saving lives in surgery and drinking between poker hands?" She asked as we walked slowly she got a little closer to me and made eye contact more often, slowly her walls were lowering and I did know my own are too. "I spend a lot of my time with friends. we meet at the tavern weekly and play a few games of dice or cards. we have great banter…and sometimes things get a little rowdy…" "rowdy? How rowdy?" I chuckled, "How rowdy do you think a group of men get when they meet every week to gamble and drink? we often wager things like our clothes, our hats, our watches, or even our boots! it can get quite rowdy indeed."

"I see, well don't be expecting our games to be wagering such things at least until the wedding" she laughed, "Well, I suppose that's for the best. our games should be more civilized, shouldn't they? since we are going to be husband and wife soon enough. my behaviour should be appropriate…" I smirked, ummm even if I don't want it to be my little firecracker. God her parents weren't here I would have my hands all over her dress by now. "it should, I take it you play down at the cat and bagpipes or do you have some secret little place?" She asked, I smirked a little that she even knew of the Cat and Bagpipes, I paused for a moment, thinking the cat and bagpipes is full of unsavoury characters…it's a boisterous scene. but she seems eager to know, but should I really be telling her these things? "It is my favoured spot, yes, but I do at times pop over places prearranged of course just last week we were in the captain's quarters of a ship that had docked.

"Forgive my questions, I merely wish to truly meet the man I am to be married to" she explained playing with her gloves a little, "if I may ask one more?" "yes, of course. what would you like to ask?" I nodded, I didn't want to stop her after all she had every right to want to know about me and I suppose it would help me learn more about her too, "I am well aware of the cat and bagpipes reputation," she said, Ohh shit. "Tell me when you drink, and gamble do you do so with one of their girls on your leg?" She asked giving me a stern smile her eyes glaring a little giving me nowhere to hide from her at all, Well, I got caught out for lying to her once, and doing it again is likely not the best idea, and I mean… she's going to be my wife I should tell her the truth, even if she may not like the answer, "yes. at times, some of the girls do sit on my lap during a game. some of them get a little too flirty…and I indulge them occasionally…" she nodded returning her view to our walk for a while not saying anything, I regretted it honesty almost immediately. she seems to have been taken aback.

This is the first serious moment of awkward silence between us. I can't stand the silence. I want to talk to her, I want to make this right. So I decided to flip the question back on her, "What about you…are you ever flirty with other men?" "no I don't," she said with a dismissive tone immediately returning to the silence, "Never?" "no." She snapped, I nodded, doing my best not to be awkward… well, I royally cocked that up. So much for good gentlemen like first impression. After a while of walking, she finally spoke again, "The girls are to stop once we are married I'm sure you understand," she warned very seriously,

Of course, I didn't want to upset her, and after all, this is her first rule for me I didn't want to break it, and honestly… If I have her waiting for me to get home now sure I'd want to be seeing any girls down the cat and bagpipes anyway, not when I have a beautiful wife like her, "Yes. the girls will have to stop. I can assure you, I would never disrespect my wife in such a way." "if I find out they have continued I will terminate our union you understand that?" She threatened with a straight serious expression, she wasn't kidding this was her one rule she wanted the truth she wanted my loyalty and if I dared break it I would be in a living hell I'm sure she would ensure it, "yes…I understand…I give you my word…it's a deal breaker when we get married we'll both be faithful, we'll be monogamous…you have my word." "Good. And I trust as a doctor you are Ensuring me that you arrive as my husband… Healthy" she said momentarily glancing at my trousers,

Her gaze is hot and intense and it definitely makes me very anxious…but in a good way. I got that feeling again of being like a nervous teenager every moment just talking with her. And for a moment I had to put my hand in my pocket being very careful she didn't notice I had been… kinda getting hard looking at her, imagining her as my wife and all the things we would do together. "yes…well…er…yeah…very healthy. very healthy indeed." I gulped, "Good, my apologies. I merely ask as I know the cat and bagpipes girls have a… Reputation," "It's…quite alright. I assure you." I nodded, "While I occasionally indulge in a…less than appropriate behaviour…I am always very careful in such scenarios…" "good. At least one of us is experienced and… Knows what they're doing" she muttered almost inaudible, for a moment her words confused me and then it clicked, "You shall have to forgive my innocence in such departments literally." ohh… right she's a proper young lady, so she's never… Ohhh god, I need to stop thinking about that! Ummm, my innocent little firecracker wife.

"don't worry, my dear. I'll teach you as much as you need to know once we're married." I smirked giving her a playful wink, "Really?" she playfully smiled back squeezing my arm, "Don't worry, my dear. everything I know I will teach you. we'll be equals, and we'll be each other's teachers. I don't mind teaching you every last thing you need to know. it will be fun…" "I'm sure it will," she smirked before a look of sadness and concern washed over her face, "this is truly to happen we are to marry in just seven days" "yes, we are. the wedding is set. it's happening. are you worried?" "somewhat." "why are you upset?…is it the wedding itself that is bothering you? or is it the idea of marrying me?" I asked suddenly feeling slightly insecure, "uhh well, the entire concept honestly Doctor Dawkins. I have been putting off getting married for so long that my father literally arranged one for me. It is not you, I promise I just it's all rather overwhelming that this is a fact… Happening" "I understand. it's a bit overwhelming to think that you are suddenly going to be married. and to such a handsome fella like me, I'd imagine it would be even more overwhelming." I smiled with a playful little wink, hoping to lighten the mood. she smiled and briefly laughed, and I smiled widely she had such a cute little laugh, "I admit I find this whole situation rather…exciting," "Exciting?"

I smiled as I moved a little closer to speak more hushed to her and to take in her preticorn and lavender scent, "very exciting…I don't know about you…but I cannot remember the last time I've felt this way. I've never been this attracted to someone before…never. it feels like I'm seeing the world with brand-new eyes. every time I look in your direction all I see is how beautiful you are. I see nothing but a stunningly gorgeous woman…how can someone be so stunningly beautiful…it's just unbelievable…" "quite the man of complimentary words too I see" she teased, "only when it's warranted. and in your case, it's very warranted for you, I do not often praise a woman with my words but when I find them as charming and gorgeous as you, I simply can't help myself," I smiled, "I may just have a little crush on you, my dear." "a crush? We're engaged" she laughed, "oh my…my apologies. I forgot to update my terminology. yes, we're engaged. and I have a bit of an…engagment-crush. that's what I meant. you see? I'm just utterly enthralled with you…I'm absolutely captivated…all I can see right now is how beautiful you are. how can I not have something of a crush on you?" "That's very sweet doctor," she nodded, "Jack," I told her, "You're to be my wife in a week, you can just call me Jack," "Very well, Jack." She smiled, "Then Just Y/n, I insist." "Y/n, I am blessed to be allowed such a formality, my dear." I smiled kissing her hand,

[harringtonstilinski]

Stop Stealing Mine! - Steve Harrington

Author:@harringtonstilinski​ Characters: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader Word Count: 1946 Warnings: big fluff, small angst, billy being an ass, steve & reader are just friends, Smut: no | yes; Requested: Nope. #30 from this prompt list A/N: Hi, friends! Here's a short little thing I spent about four and half forever's on. I split the prompt in two, and it's italicized. I hope you like this little piece! If you do, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊

Fall. Your absolute favorite time of the year. The pumpkin patches, football, sweaters, sweatshirts, boots, cooler weather, snickerdoodles; just everything about Fall you love.

You especially love stealing Steve’s sweaters without him knowing. Every year since about the 8th grade, you've been slowly stealing all the sweaters his mom buys that look absolutely comfy and cozy.

The two of you have been Seniors for about a month now, and the weather is just starting to get nice. It’s the middle of October and you’re sitting in the backseat of his car, Nancy Wheeler sitting up front like always. They’ve been together a little over a year now, and it’s… awkward, to say the least.

They were discussing his paper he had to turn in for early college application, Nancy asking about his granddad’s experience in the war versus the game we had against Northwestern. You were grossed out when they voiced their love for each other and kissed.

Their moment was interrupted by an engine revving, a blue Camaro making its appearance, a middle school aged redheaded girl getting out of the passenger side, a sandy blonde boy with a mullet getting out of the driver’s side, taking a drag from a cigarette. The three of you later learned that their names were Billy and Max, California transplants.

You were sitting in your third period class, pulling the ends of the sweater you were wearing to the ends of your fingers as you were reading your newest book when a body came up beside you. “Ya’know, I could do exactly what they’re doing in this book… only better.”

You looked up, seeing Billy with a cocky grin on his face. “Mmmmmmmhmmm,” you hummed, going back to my reading. 

“I’m–”

“Billy Hargrove,” you sighed, placing the bookmark back in your book. “I know.” Looking up at him, you raised a brow. “We have first period together.” As you turned back around, you watched his eyes light up with some emotion you weren’t quite sure of. Lust? Anger? Arousal?

Sighing once more, you opened the book back up, not really reading it, but just looking at the page as you addressed him. “So, if you’re done being a tool, you can go away now.”

Billy chuckled, resting his hands on the back of your chair and desk. “I’m not being a tool, sweetheart. Just being honest.”

“So, honesty for you is unnecessary flirting and borderline harassment because you won’t leave me alone? I wonder; did that work on the chicks in California? Because it sure as hell doesn’t work here in Indiana.”

Snickers were heard behind me as the bell rang, signaling the beginning of class. You gathered your things and got up from the desk. Walking into the hallway, you collided with a body, almost crashing to the floor when you felt a hand on your back. “Jesus, we have to work on your clumsiness.”

You pushed away from Steve, irritated with what just happened with Billy. “Yeah, well, if I wasn’t so freaking angry, I wouldn’t have collided with you.”

Steve put his arm around your shoulders, walking your down the hallway and out the front doors of the school. Before you knew it, the two of you were sitting on the hood of his car, your head resting on his shoulder. “What happened?” he asked, quietly.

“That new fucking transplant,” you breathed. “Wouldn’t leave me alone.” You brought the end of the sweater sleeves back down your hands to wrap your fingers around them. 

Steve was silent for a moment, moving his head down to look at your hands, a confused look on his face. He recognized the sweater you were wearing; his red one that he normally wore during the Christmas holiday. “Is-is that my red sweater?”

Tilting your head back to look at him, you said with a deadpan expression and tone, “Took you this long to notice?”

He went to reply, but the last bell for third period rang, the both of you looking towards the school. 

“I really don’t want to go back in there,” you quietly groaned. 

Steve wrapped his arm around your shoulders, hand rubbing your upper arm as you sighed before he stated, “Tell me what he did.”

Noticing a piece of thread hanging from the outer seam on his jeans, you played with it while asking him, “Promise to not look for a fight?” “I promise.”

Gathering your thoughts, tears sprung into your eyes as you took a deep breath, explaining what happened with Billy. It was quiet for a moment when you finished telling Steve the events that happened just a few minutes prior before you took a shaky breath, saying, “He just wouldn’t leave me alone.”

Tightening his hold on you the slightest bit, Steve took a deep breath, releasing it to say, “Let me take you home. Or back to mine.”

“Back to yours,” you whispered. “My mom’s home.” You reached in your bag, grabbing out a notebook and pen to write with him, handing the items to Steve. “You’ll need to let Nance know what you’re doing.”

Grabbing the notebook and pen from your hand, Steve wrote on the paper to Nancy that he was taking me back to his house because I wasn’t feeling too good and didn’t want to worry my mom. He looked at me after he finished writing, explaining that he wanted to have a best friend day with me since it had been a while since we had one.

That part wasn’t a lie. It had been quite a while since he and I had a day just to ourselves. I watched as he slid off his hood and walked through the parking lot to the front of the school, coming back out a few minutes later, scratching at his temple.

You scrunch your brows, wondering what could’ve happened that shifted his mood. As he made his way closer to you, all you could do was watch as he got into the driver’s seat, resting his left hand on the steering wheel.

Sighing, you slid off the hood of the car to round it and open the passenger door where you sat down and shut the door. You looked at your best friend, seeing a look of defeat on his face. “Hey,” you whispered. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

It was Steve’s turn to sigh, leaning his head back on the head rest. “She didn’t believe me. Or, rather, you. Said you looked fine before class and that you were just trying to skip because of some inconvenience, or whatever the fuck she said.”

“Like she has room to talk,” you muttered, resting against the seat and crossing your arms while looking out of your window. 

“What does that mean?” Steve asked.

You turned your head to look at him, seeing his eyes full of questions. “Did you two study in the library this morning?”

Steve nodded his head, while sighing. “She wants to tell Barbra’s parents about the Upside Down and the Demogorgon.”

“We can’t do that!” you exclaimed.

“I know. That’s what I told her.”

Letting out an exasperated sigh, you closed your eyes, muttering more to yourself, “It’s like she doesn’t care,” but Steve heard it, putting his hand above your knee. It was a move he always did to bring you comfort and control. “Come on,” you said. “Let’s go.”

Steve removed his hand from your leg to start the car, putting it in reverse before backing out of the parking spot. After he put it in drive, he started off towards his house, stopping off at the local diner to get some lunch for the two of you.

Once you two made it back to his house, you both sat on the floor at the coffee table, food from the diner in front of you. As you ate, you talked about anything and everything with Steve. From what the rumor mill was spilling, to who was dating who, who broke up with who, all the things.

Before you two knew it, the food containers were empty, cups almost empty, and your eyelids were starting to get heavy. Steve suggested that the two of you lay on the couch together and watch whatever daytime show was on the television. 

It wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to cuddle together. Something you’d done since you two were kids. So, laying here with Steve instantly brought you comfort to the point where you drifted off to sleep while listening to his heartbeat.

Steve loved it when you fell asleep on him. Mainly because he could just look at your sleeping face and wonder how he got lucky enough to have a best friend like you. He loved your light snores, your sighs or deep breaths, the movements you’d make to get more comfortable. He always thought to himself that if he wasn’t with Nance, he’d take his shot at being with you.

What he never knew was that you felt the same way as he did. Your crush on your best friend started late in 8th grade when his glow up happened, and it seemed like everyone in your class had their glow ups in 8th grade, while yours happened in 10th grade. So, in the back of your mind, you weren’t pretty enough for anyone until then… and you still felt like that even now. Since Steve was with Nancy, though, you couldn’t act on your feelings. It wouldn’t be fair to Nance, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be fair to Steve. He was your best friend, after all.

Steve had fallen asleep, listening to your soft breaths and snores. His hands were resting on your back when you fell asleep, but when you moved to get more comfortable in your sleep, his hand ended up resting on your side, his other hand resting on his own stomach. He swore he could stay this way forever.

When you started to stir as you woke up a couple of hours later, your eyes were still closed as you stayed in your comfortable position. A few minutes went by before Steve took a deep breath, a small groan sounding from him as he held you a little tighter.

“Did you have a good nap?” he asked, his eyes still closed.

You hummed, nodding your head against his shoulder. “Yeah.” Bringing your hand up to his chest, you curled your fingers around the end of the sleeve. “You?”

“Yes,” he simply answered. “I have a question that’s kind of been bothering me all day.”

“What’s that?”

“Is that my sweater?” he asked, not missing a beat.

“Yeah, why?”

“Don’t you have enough sweaters?”

“Yours are more comfortable,” you chuckled. Getting an idea, you sat up and looked down at him, smiling.

“Don’t think about it,” he said, once he opened his eyes.

“You have another sweater that’s one of my favorites. Whoever gets to your closet first gets it.” Without a moment's hesitation, you climbed over Steve, and booked it to the staircase, the seventeen year old boy falling off the couch in his haste to catch you as you climbed the stairs, laughing hysterically.

“Yo! You have plenty of sweaters!”

“They’re more comfortable, like I said!” you yelled, running across the landing of the second floor. What he didn’t know was that you already had his yellow one he recently purchased.

When he finally made it into his room, you were already standing in his closet with the biggest smile on your face. Steve walked into his closet, seeing his sweater collection almost empty. “For the third time, you have plenty of sweaters. Stop stealing mine!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N 2:  hi, friends! let me know what you thought! again, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox.

A/N 3: i used the gif above before, but idgaf, lol. i thought it was fitting for what i had in mind for the story, hahahaa. plus there's not many gifs of steve in that red sweater.

~~~

Forever / Everything Taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24​​ @stixnstripesworld​​ @fandom-princess-forevermore​​ @quanticobae​​ @mischiefandi​​ @kellyashcroft​​ @lauren-novak​​​

Steve Harrington Taglist: none yet!

If you’re tagged and didn’t want to be, please let me know.

~~~

*Please don’t post my writing anywhere else without my consent. The author of this work will always and forever be @stilinskiparker​.

All characters, story lines, and plot aside from y/n and her storyline & plot, are all of the work of The Duffer Brothers.

*These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.

No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

Posted on October 28, 2023

[hopelessromantic423]

Where or When

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Summary: You and Bucky were best friends, until the day you up and left. Over the course of one meal, all is forgiven and new relationships are formed.

Warning: Angst. Some happy ending fluff. Pet name: sweetheart. Two stinky bad words. Love confessions. If there are any flaws, let a girl know.

*Based off the song where or when from the When Harry Met Sally soundtrack*

The clinking of glasses and silverware hitting nice white plates filled the room with generic jazz music covering the majority of the overhead speakers. The light was dim enough to see the table and the person across from you. Crisp white linens brushed against the knees of diners as they talked and ate.

You and Bucky sat at a booth near the corner of the restaurant, just looking at each other not sure who should start talking first. It felt like deja vu. You had sat in this exact seat in the same spot before. You even had on the same black skirt you had worn time and time again and Bucky had his favorite brown boots on because they never left him.

To Bucky, it felt like the first time the two of you were sitting together, though you've sat across from each other hundreds of times. It was strange, yet exciting. The two of you were together. That's what he wanted for the past year, and so did you.

“Um… it’s great to see you. You look absolutely beautiful (Y/N),” Bucky muttered nervously. His eyes were full of care and concern like if he made one bad move you would walk away again.

“Thanks Buck, I really am glad you asked me to dinner.” You fiddled with the napkin in your lap while looking across at him.

You and Bucky were best friends. Keyword were. Once you started dating his childhood best friend Steve, things got weird. You and Bucky still had this amazing chemistry but jealousy ruined every inch of it. You realized after a few months, you weren’t in love with Steve at all. You were just finding the closest version to Bucky Barnes you could reach. By the time your realization came to fruition, Bucky was deeply in love with Sharon Carter, at least that’s what it looked like.

“So, what’s living in Manhattan like?”

You sighed thinking of how lonely your new apartment was. The air wasn’t as crisp as you would hope and the colors of the wall were dull, no matter how many photos and art you hung up. It was like the color was completely missing from your life.

“It’s nice,” you lied right out of your ass. You knew Bucky could tell. “The neighborhoods are trendy and my apartment is only a few blocks from my office. It’s.. quiet.”

You took a sip of your drink as you watched Bucky’s thoughts wind in his brain. That’s one thing you love about him, his facial expressions can tell you a lot about his thoughts.

“Are you still at the compound?” The bustling noises from the restaurant had now quieted down, making conversation much more awkward.

“No,” Bucky shook his head, more relieved you picked up the conversation. “I’m in a small apartment in Brooklyn. It’s nice, I feel like a real citizen,” he chuckled. The little lines that formed at the outer rims of his eyes showed as he smiled, highlighting his deep blue eyes the way you pictured them in your mind for the last year.

“The team misses you every day. Well, I miss you most of all,” Bucky tried to cover up his confession, looking at you timidly. “Steve can’t seem to work the comms system as much as you could,” he muttered with a soft smile.

“James, you know I can’t go back there.”

“But you can,” Bucky contradicted in a breathy tone, his hands resting on the table towards you. “Stark said he’d give nothing to have you back.”

“Is this really about the team wanting me back, or is this about us?” Your tone was sharp but there was a tinge of sadness in your words. You bit on your bottom lip trying to gather your emotions while carefully watching the man you missed so much across from you.

Bucky took a second to himself, pulling his hands into his lap. The little line you always found intriguing formed in between his eyebrows as he found the words to say.

“Why did you leave?” Bucky’s voice was soft as he spoke, timid hoping he didn’t just ruin everything.

“I couldn’t watch you love someone that wasn’t me. You looked happy Buck, so damn happy. I couldn’t ruin anything.”

“You didn’t have to leave without saying goodbye?!” Bucky’s gloved hand was balled into a fist as it sat on the table. His voice was full of hurt and desperation was clear in his eyes. He let out a shaky breath while averting his eyes.

“I couldn’t have left if I did,” you squeaked, trying your best to hold down the tears rising in your system.

“I’ve loved you since the moment I met you (Y/N). That’s why I didn’t kiss you that night at New Year's or how I told Steve he could take you on a date because I didn’t want to lose you. I love you so much it hurts.”

You had always hoped Bucky loved you like that. You dreamed of it during the day and at night when you fell asleep. You had been making up this exact scenario in your brain for a whole year, why now are you so shocked all you could do was sit there with a slack jaw?

“I have to go,” you mumbled staring at Bucky in pure shock while grabbing your bag and eyeing the exit door of the restaurant. You did what you did best which is to run in hard scenarios.

It was pouring rain as you stepped outside, trying to catch your breath as tears streaked down your cheeks. You didn’t know what to do. How could you have let something so good out of your life? How could someone still love you even after you abandoned them? Maybe you weren’t riddled with shock but with guilt.

"I wish you had stayed," Bucky yelled in a last-ditch effort. His short brunette hair flattened by the second as more rain drenched him.

"I wish I had too," you called back, the rain now completely soaking every inch of your hair and clothing. Your tears mixed right in with the freshwater.

Bucky met you where you were, wrapping you in his arms as you cried. “It’s okay (Y/N),” he whispered into your hair, simultaneously placing kisses on the top of your head. Finally, you peered up at the man you’ve loved since you met him with a timid smile.

“Please sweetheart, just come back,” he said sweetly while placing a hand on your cheek. “You can stay with me in Brooklyn, we’ll get that cat you always dreamed about.”

“We can be happy (Y/N). For once, let yourself be happy.”

Ironic that Bucky Barnes was telling you to be happy. He deserved every inch of happiness the world could give him. The both of you could be happy, really happy.

“I love you too James,” you blurted over the pouring rain. “I’m sorry it took me so long to say it.”

The two of you couldn’t help but laugh as you realized your situation. Love confession in the rain, it was right out of one of the romance movies you forced him to watch at your apartment every month.

Your lips met like two puzzle pieces fitting together. His strong arms pulled you flush to him as he deepened the kiss. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders. It was everything you dreamed of and more. You and Bucky were finally going to be happy.

You pulled away abruptly which took Bucky out of his trance and into a confused expression.“Did you ever pay the bill?”

“That can wait sweetheart, I want to enjoy this a little while longer,” Bucky chuckled pulling you back into a kiss.

[leiflitter]

Re: canon Felix not remembering to tell Ollie about the formalwear, I think it's his self-centeredness making him shortsighted and oblivious but also maybe subconsciously giving himself another chance at playing white knight (just like taking Ollie home because his mother "sounded sober") and feeling good about himself.

(In an alternate universe where Felix is slightly more thoughtful, he doesn't mention the clothes precisely because he knows there's no way Oliver owns or can afford them. Why give him something to worry about when Felix can pretend an oversight and then wave the problem away in seconds rather than put him in the uncomfortable position of having to either reject the invitation or ask for a handout? (double saviour points!) ... But in that universe Felix may have also realized it was weird that Oliver didn't need a summer job)

Okay so I wrote a lot then I deleted it to be more coherent but okay. OKAY.

Felix as Philanthropist. Felix as the hand of God, lifting people from mundanity. Felix as the Knight Who Saves The Princess.

Felix is none of these things, despite wanting to be, because Felix doesn't understand the nature of true kindness. Not really.

What Felix wants is to be universally adored. He mostly is, too, because he's a bombshell hottie-hot rich boy, but the problem is that it's too fucking easy. Everything has diminishing returns to Felix. He gets what he wants, when he wants- and that will make you numb. It's like a callous; Felix has probably only felt actual, deep emotions fleetingly, and even then... He tells Oliver he threw a stone for his dog but...

He doesn't say his dog's name. He loved the dog enough to go through the family ritual for death, but now the dog is nameless.

(I have named the dog Barney, btw, because all pups deserve a name)

Oliver, unlike everyone else, puts up a resistance to Felix's Will. Even Farleigh comes with the begging bowl.

"It's an awful faff to wheel it back to campus" "oh, you want me to..."

Their first proper interaction and Oliver makes him self-conscious. You can see it- he breaks his Felix Eye Contact and goes all hand-wavey and awkward, before Oliver says he will.

That establishes the pattern. Felix wants. Oliver denies. Felix has to try harder. Oliver gives in. Felix likes it.

Oliver is proud despite his apparent circumstances, and despite everything Felix could hold over him, Oliver refuses to just get on the floor and lick his boots and worship him the way everyone else does. Oliver does this because he knows that Felix gets bored when things are too easy, but also because he wants Felix to actually care about him. If Felix stops trying, it means Felix no longer cares, so Oliver makes him demonstrate his affection. To paraphrase-

"Come to Saltburn" - accept my glory and benevolence. Make me feel good. Let me save you.

"It's too much of an imposition." - prove to me that you want me there. Prove to me you care about me. Prove to me that I am more to you than the others.

"You'll save my sanity, really." - I need you to give in so I can actually feel good about myself. Please.

Now, the Hot Argument is a reversal of this. Oliver wants. Felix says no. Oliver tries harder. Felix does not like it.

Then Oliver comes back, with a new chapter of tragedy, which is Oliver Giving In, which Felix Likes.

Now the Dinner Jacket and the Birthday Trip are, actually, both the same thing. Felix has learned the pattern, you see, and he wants to skip straight to Felix Likes It without the initial pushback. He's on his home turf- and look.

Felix knows Oliver doesn't Get It. Felix absolutely knows. His family know all about Oliver’s Sad Circumstances- even if he Told Them In Confidence, that just means they don't talk about it in front of Oliver. He has probably been absolutely writhing about how NICE he's being while waiting for Oliver to arrive, the same as he was in the Was It Awful scene. He's been watching for Oliver to arrive (it's a big house- he pops up maybe 5 seconds after Ollie's come in), seen him be absolutely cowed by Duncan and swooped in to Save Him in his see-throughish white shirt.

Given him the grand tour.

And it starts- not with the jacket, but with the razor.

Felix is dripfeeding Oliver information because then he can bypass the whole Oliver says No part of their little dance. He probably doesn't know it, but that's what he's doing.

"Oh and you need to shave."

"Oh and the maids tell mum everything."

"Oh and you need to dress for dinner."

He doesn't warn Oliver about The Help opening the windows. Or the Henry party. Or the field. He lets Oliver get to the cusp of Something, then Oliver has to give in.

The Birthday Trip is the culmination of it.

Oliver doesn't fight Felix about the trip. About wearing something nice. He doesn't ask and Felix doesn't tell him, because Felix wants him captive.

If Felix actually thought about it for longer than 20 seconds, he might have realised that there's no way this would go well. He hid Oliver's mum's phonecall for a week. A week.

He probably wouldn't have even told Oliver if he could avoid it. I bet he'd have blindfolded him if it was a short trip. Because Felix wants to Be The Hero and roll up to the shack that he assumes Oliver grew up in and rain money on the problem to make it go away.

And what would have happened if it WAS as bad as Oliver described? Oliver would have been humiliated just as badly as he was by the lie coming out. Felix would realise that he is out of his depth, and... am I going to need to write my version of this? Maybe. Oops.

We see Felix through the lens of Oliver's love, but once again:

They're both idiot kids. They're 19/20, immature, off their faces on Saltburn and being young and the weird dynamic between them. It was never going to go well.

[mari-writes]

🦉🎵

Bokuto is surprised, but pleasantly so, when Akaashi invites him out to a concert.

The first year setter is quiet off the court. He spends most of his free time with his nose in a book or a mug of tea, and doesn’t really seem the type to be into live rock music.

“You don’t have to say yes,” Akaashi mutters, nervously pulling at his fingers. “I just… I know you enjoy listening to music. And I thought you might like this band. I really do, but I’ve never seen them perform. And my parents don’t want me to go alone, so…”

Bokuto smiles, oddly charmed at his friend’s awkwardness. He and Akaashi have been on the same team for the better part of a year, but he’s still learning more about him every day. 

“I’d love to!”

They meet for the show at the train station. Bokuto spots him and calls out, waving both his arms as he jogs over. The first thing he notices is that Akaashi looks different in street clothes. He’s seen him in his school uniform, his volleyball kit and training attire, pajamas and even casual wear. But never like this.

Akaashi wears a pair of slim fit jeans, a long-sleeved shirt with the band’s logo on front, and a pair of suede ankle boots. His hair is styled slightly, and Bokuto does a double take when he spots a touch of black liner drawn onto his eyelids.

Bokuto feels a bit undressed in his joggers, t-shirt and zip-up hoodie. “You look nice,” he says, ears feeling strangely warm.

The club is already open when they arrive. The show is sold out, and hopeful fans converge at the entrance, trying to get in. It’s sort of chaotic, but eventually their tickets are scanned and they make it inside.

Finding a spot in the crowd is a challenge. Despite being tall, they keep getting jostled and blocked. Bokuto hovers an arm behind Akaashi, not quite touching but protecting his friend from sharp elbows and heavy feet.

“Wow, they’re popular, huh?” Bokuto can’t help but gape at the amount of people, all packed into such a small space. 

Akaashi nods. “They might need to book a bigger venue next time…”

They enjoy the opening act, chatting in between the songs. Despite the crowd, Bokuto is happy to see Akaashi loosening up, relaxing. He seems to settle comfortably into the noisy environment. 

He also looks excited. Very excited. He’s trying to hold back, but there’s this gleam in the boy’s eyes. A spark. He keeps eagerly glancing at the stage as the crew sets up for the headliner.

When the band finally comes out, Akaashi cheers, bouncing on his toes and clapping. Bokuto snorts and nudges him teasingly. Akaashi nudges back, and they both chuckle.

The band is great. They’re fun, energetic, but grounded in how they play together. The lyrics are a bit abstract and poetic, some of it going over Bokuto’s head, but that’s okay. He’ll ask Akaashi about it later.

Speaking of—Bokuto has a hard time concentrating on watching the band itself, as he keeps stealing glances at his friend, unable to look away for too long. Akaashi sings along to almost every song, face raw with emotion as he’s clearly moved by the lyrics. 

The club’s lighting illuminates the boy’s profile, accentuating his sharp cheekbones and jawline. He jumps up and down during the fast songs, and then sways in place, eyes closed as if in a trance when the rhythms slow.

He’s sort of… beautiful. Captivating. Bokuto wonders absently if that’s a normal thing to think about a friend.

The band plays for nearly two hours, coming back for an encore before taking a long, grateful bow together at the front of the stage. Akaashi’s eyes look a little glassy as he claps so hard his palms redden. 

“Did you have fun?” Bokuto asks once they make it out of the club. The streets are dark but lively, full of fans still buzzed from both alcohol and adrenaline.

Akaashi nods. “I did. Th-thank you for coming with me, Bokuto-san.”

“Hey hey, it was great!” He grins. “I’ll have to check out their albums!”

The train ride back is mostly quiet. Exhaustion—from the late hour, and standing/dancing for so long—is definitely catching up to them. Thank goodness it’s not a school night. Bokuto is unsure if he could’ve made it to morning practice.

Bokuto hops off at Akaashi’s stop and walks him home. His friend tries to stop him, of course, but he insists. The night they just had together… it felt different. Special. Something about it makes Bokuto want to prolong it for as long as possible.

“Here we are!” He grins, shoving his hands in his pockets and rocking on his heels. “Have a good night, ‘kaashi!”

The boy nods, moving to leave, but then he hesitates. Bokuto watches curiously as his hands ball into fists at his sides. He takes a long, controlled breath, and turns back to Bokuto.

For a few moments they just stand there on Akaashi’s doorstep, a few paces apart, staring at each other. Bokuto wonders what he’s missing. Is Akaashi okay? Should he—

“Can… can I hug you, Bokuto-san?”

Akaashi’s voice is soft. Timid. So much so that Bokuto thinks he misheard. But no, the boy is looking at him eagerly, waiting with bated breath.

Bokuto smiles for perhaps the hundredth time that night, nods once, and opens his arms wide.

The hug is different than others they’ve shared, among teammates or after scoring a point. Akaashi’s long fingers dig into Bokuto’s back, and his nose burrows into his shoulder. 

A profound sense of contentment washes over Bokuto as he returns the embrace. He feels warm. So warm. He catches a whiff of something pleasant—is it cologne, or just Akaashi himself?

When they do eventually part, Akaashi is quick to lower his gaze as he walks backward towards the house. “Good night, Bokuto-san,” he says politely. “Safe travels home.” 

With that, the boy turns on his heel and hurries in through his front door. With a final click, the door closes and he’s gone.

Bokuto releases a shaky breath. He continues to gaze at the house, half expecting Akaashi to come back out and… do what? He’s not sure. Why does it feel like he’s still missing something?

He has to force himself to leave. He takes one last look at the house. His friend’s bedroom window is now illuminated by a soft glow, and he thinks he catches a glimpse of the boy’s silhouette within.

“G’night, ‘kaashi,” he whispers, as if it’s a secret. “Sweet dreams.”

//

Please appreciate how nervous Akaashi must’ve been asking his crush, his STAR, out to a concert. At the end he’s probably pacing his bedroom freaking out about the hug. 😅 Thanks for reading! Please comment/share if you enjoyed! It really helps me out. —Mari💕

[jungk0oksthighs]

Her | First Kiss 

bestfriend!jungkook, tattooartist!jungkook, F2L, fluff, smut 

Word Count - 4k

Jungkook is in love with you and you’re starting to like it. Warnings: swearing, drug use (edibles), oc and jk are higher than the moon 

MINISERIES COLLECTION

“Oh my god… I am obsessed! You’re amazing, thank you so much!” You gush, still staring at the dainty tattoo that decorates your ribcage in the mirror. Ballet slippers, since ballet has been your life and soul since you were five years old.

Your best friend Jungkook is a phenomenal tattoo artist, all his work is beautiful, unique, completely unlike any other artist you’ve seen on Instagram. While it may have taken him two years to convince you to let him be the one to do your first tattoo, you’re so glad he did. The fact your best friend is the one who permanently inked your body only makes it more special and meaningful.

“Gotta say I’m impressed with you, thought you was gonna be squeamish but you sat really well.” Pride oozes from Kook’s tone as he wipes down his work station, sanitising everything and putting bits and pieces back in their usual space. “Perfect client.” 

“I’m sure you say that to all your clients.” You chuckle, pulling down his hoodie that he’s donated to you for the evening since your clothes are soaking wet from the rain.

At this he winks, snapping his fingers and pointing at you, “Only the really pretty ones.”

It’s a little after nine when Jungkook locks up his studio and the two of you head upstairs to his apartment. Things between you have been a little awkward since he drunkenly confessed he has feelings for you on a camping trip last week.

You didn’t believe him at the time of his intoxicated babbling but that changed the second he kissed you. It was sweet, moving, gentle even – everything you wouldn’t expect from a tall, muscular, heavily tattooed burly man. At first you were taken aback by the boldness of his statement, shocked, in disbelief that someone like him would ever have interest in somebody like you. But now you’re warming to the idea of your best friend maybe being more than that one day. Maybe. 

“So what’s the plan for tonight?” He asks, slipping his boots off at his front door leading you to do the same.

Jungkook’s apartment is the closest thing you have to home. Currently you’re staying with your parents after another failed relationship, it’s nice there, your parents are good people. But for you materialistic things don’t matter as much as sentimental ones. Your parents a rich, giving that your father is a lawyer and your mother a private plastic surgeon. They make money, they save money, they spend money, they flaunt their money. Jungkook isn’t like that, while his business is doing really well he doesn’t care about the fancier things in life either.

Pictures of the two of you throughout the years are hung up in his hallway and rooms. From preschool to prom night, Kook’s first Taekwondo tournament, your first ballet show, drunken college party photos, you name it it’s framed and hung up in his home. To an outsider you probably look like a couple and the fact of the matter is most people think you are, giving your close relationship. 

Kook is very sentimental, he’s an emotional hoarder, keeping and displaying each and every one of his most cherished memories throughout his apartment. It just so happens that most of them were shared with you. In fifth grade you made him a friendship bracelet with neon pink and orange beads – it’s completely hideous, yet he’s worn it every day since.

You slump onto his red stained fabric sofa, mindlessly throwing your legs over his lap when he sits down next to you. At this he smiles, loosely draping his heavy arm over your calves and holding your knee while reaching for the remote with the other hand.

“Netflix and chill?” You chuckle mostly to yourself.

Recently it’s dawned on you just how attractive your best friend is. At the age of thirty he doesn’t look a day over twenty five, his skin is flawless, glowing and tanned. His eyes are large and on his face, so soft and animatedly kind. Completely contrasting against the harshness of his sharp jawline, his pierced lips and eyebrow, his overall ‘bad boy’ aesthetic that he hides behind. In reality he’s the sweetest guy you’ve ever known. Any girl would be lucky to call Jungkook theirs, and a few have over the years but at this moment in time he’s very much single. As are you.

“You know Netflix and chill is code for sex right? You basically just asked me to fuck you in millennial terms.” His brow quirks, gaze never leaving the selection of movies on the tv he’s currently working through.

“Is that so?” You hum, cocking your head to one side. Would you fuck Jungkook? He’s your best friend... it would be weird, right? He does look good tonight though. To be honest he looks good every night.

To this Kook laughs, the sound chesty and genuine and paired perfectly with a toothy smile, “Don’t play dumb with me Y/N, we’re not that old. You knew that surely.”

“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t.” You shrug unphased. “Guess you’ll never know.”

He turns to face you, mouth agape and thick brows furrowed, “What are you doing? You’re acting strange. Are you high? Don’t tell me I’ve just tattooed you while you’re stoned.”

You’re giggling, which doesn’t help your defence, “Don’t worry I’m not high, I haven’t got high since… Well whenever we last smoked together years ago.” You admit with a closed smile. 

The truth is you just don’t know how to act around him now, do you flirt with him? You want to. For the first time in your life his presence makes you nervous, you’re hyperaware of his touch, his smile, his handsomeness. It’s a new feeling for sure, but you don’t push it away by any means.

Back in college you and Jungkook used to get high all the time, to the point where you were practically certified stoners. It was fun. The giggles, the munchies, the memories. How sometimes you’d both wake up in clothes from the day before with no recollection of the night before other than the takeout boxes scattered on his bedroom floor. It was a way to blow off steam and relax, but as soon as the theatre company you toured with for ballet started doing drug tests it all stopped. At least for you anyway, as far as you know Kook is still partial to the occasional joint.

Jungkook smirks, tapping the television remote on your thigh, “Well I do have some edibles in the kitchen… If you fancy it?”

You snort, kicking your head back with light laughter, “I think I’m too old for that shit now Jungkookie… It’s been such a long time I’d probably have a bad time.”

“Too old?!” He slaps the remote to your leg, earning you to jump, “No such thing as too old, but if you’re nervous it’s okay we don’t have to. I’ll save them for when Yoongi is next over. Sooo do you wanna order takeout? That Chinese place across the street is pretty good.”

But the idea of getting stoned with Jungkook is the whizzing round the walls of your brain. You used to have so much fun with him whenever you smoked in college. And now that you’re your own boss… There’s no drug tests to be scared of. It has been a long time though, but you know that Kook will take good care of you. You trust him. You love him. You’re struggling to come up with a reason not to have some fun at this point.

“How strong are the edibles…?” You chew your lip nervously, not missing the way your best friend grins at your question.

“Strong.” He confirms with a nod. “But we could half one?”

“So if I say I’m interested… You’ll take care of me, right? If I get paranoid.”

Jungkook gently pushes your legs off him, throwing a strong arm over your shoulders when he scoots closer, “I’ll always take care of you princess. We don’t have to, don’t think I’m forcing you.”

“I want to.” You reassure him, nuzzling your head to his strong shoulder. He’s called you princess many times before but this is the first time it’s ever made you blush. He smells like lavender, the same scent he’s carried with him since he was three years old. “It’ll be fun… We haven’t done anything crazy in a while.”

At this Kook snorts, slapping your thigh twice with his large inked hand, “Last week I told you I love you and we made out, today you finally let me tattoo you… I’d say that’s pretty crazy for us.” He winks, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“We did not make out.” You’re laughing when you deflect from the obvious elephant in the room, repeating his movements and hitting his obscenely thick thigh twice. At age thirty you can clearly recognise the childlike flirtatiousness of this scenario, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s light. It’s fun. It’s comfortable. And it’s exciting to see him act like this around you so unapologetically. “We kissed that’s all.”

“That’s all?!” He stands to his feet, outraged, hand clutching his chest in feigned offence. “I’m a great kisser Y/N you should count yourself lucky! I’m the best kiss of your life for sure.”

You visibly ponder, making a tsk sound between your teeth which does nothing but jokingly infuriate your best friend. His chest heaves with dramatic breaths under his black form fitting t shirt, worn with matching skinny jeans of the same colour.

“Oh fuck off and get over here,” He pulls you up to stand with him with wide eyes and a firm grip, ignoring your fit of giggles. “Do I have to kiss you again to remind you?”

“So you admit it! It was just a kiss and we didn’t make out.” You say with a quirked brow, ignoring the butterflies deep in your tummy at the way his warm hold on your wrists never falters.

Jungkook tongues his cheek with raised eyebrows, “Okay fine. It was a kiss. But if you wanna kiss me again all you have to do is ask instead of making up this crazy theory that I’m not the best kisser in the whole wide world.”

“You’re funny when you try and flirt with me…” You shake off his hands when you shimmy down the hall and into his kitchen. “I think I like it.” You whisper, gnawing your lower lip to stifle a huge smile.

To your surprise Jungkook is right behind you and hears every word, matching your dumb grin. He’s leaning against the countertop when you begin searching for the edibles in question, arms folded over his chest. “Top shelf in the cans cupboard.” He tilts his chin in the right direction, “So you like it when I flirt with you hm? Since when?”

“Still figuring that out.” You hum, willing away the embarrassment when you’re climbing onto the unit, reaching for the obvious tupperware box that contains the special brownies and looks every part of suspicious. “Don’t get ahead of yourself Kookie. So are we gonna half one of these?”

He chuckles, helping you down from the countertop when you struggle to find the ground beneath your socks. His arms are planted firmly on your hips when he lowers you to the floor from behind, and they stay there. “You sure you wanna do this?”

“We’re only getting high, it’s not like we’re getting married.”

Unbeknownst to you Kook smiles behind you, inhaling the familiar scent of your coconut shampoo when his grip instinctively tightens. “Not yet.”

By eleven pm you’re as high as the moon in the sky, as is Jungkook. You’re laid out on his living room rug which feels amazing against the exposed skin of your legs. Kook very kindly gave you a pair of gym shorts and a baggy t shirt to wear when you complained you were too hot in his hoodie. You’re giggling to yourself over something he said forty minutes ago, the faint sound of pop music staining the atmosphere.

“But what if people didn’t have hair lines? How would that look?” You ask, brows furrowed in concentration as you stare at the ceiling. 

He snorts in return, “Then they’d be bald.”

“Not necessarily... They could have hair growing out of their face, with no specific hairline just a full face of hair. Do you know what I mean?”

Jungkook laughs loudly, nose crinkled and teary eyed, “What?! What are you even saying right now? Like the back of their head... On the front of their face?”

You snap your finger excitedly when you nod, voice low, “Yes. That’s exactly what I was going for. If you had hair on your face would you grow it or shave it?”

“I mean... I do have hair on my face.” Kook gasps, his mouth hanging open in a silent ‘o’, the realisation hitting him harder than the edible you halved. “Yknow... facial hair.”

“Holy shit... you’re right.” You swallow, flabbergasted at this new piece of information. You’re so fucking high that Kook’s living room smells heavy. Yeah, you’re that high. “Okay but what if... Your actual hair on your head was on your face.”

“It is isn’t it...?”

“What?! No no, so like... what if your hair,” You add some weight to your words when you reach over and tug his raven locks from his scalp. “Like this hair here, was on your face.”

“Okay...ow.” He whines, battling your hand away with a frown. “But it is on my face? It’s a part of my face. It’s on my passport photo which is face only.” He hums with pride, clearly amused with himself.

“It’s not.” You groan. While what you’re trying to say makes complete sense to you in this moment, your best friend is still none the wiser. “Your hair is on your head.”

“And my face is a part of my head.”

A dramatic sigh escapes you, “Do you have any idea what I’m getting at here? Like if that hair was on your face. Not your head.”

He snorts, “None whatsoever. It is on my face Y/N, my face is a part of my head. How high are you right now?” 

“Fuck off then, I know what I mean you’re just being dumb.” You giggle, closing your eyes defeatedly.

“Why haven’t we done this sooner?” Jungkook chuckles next to you, he’s been ogling his own hand tattoos for a while now which could be why you were laughing not so long ago. If you’re being honest you can’t quite remember the reason now. “I forgot how fun you are when you’re stoned.”

“Hey I’m always fun.” You hum, smiling to yourself.

He nods, though his gaze is still firmly fixed to his right hand that’s up in the air, “Yeah that’s true… Especially when we’re making out.” His brows wiggle when he finally rolls over to look at you, the biggest yet laziest grin tugging the corners of his lips. His eyes are hooded and stained pink but you still get lost in them for a moment.

“For the last time we didn’t make out, we’ve never made out in the twenty seven years I’ve known you.” You snort, hands gripping and feeling the dark fluffy rug you’re laid on.

“Well do you wanna?”

Even in this state your eyes manage to widen, albeit very slightly when you turn on your side to face him. You stare at him cautiously. Is he joking? He must be joking. Although you kind of hope he’s not. 

It’s funny how you’ve known him your entire life and yet you’ve only recently noticed some things about him. The way his doe-eyes sparkle before he smiles, the cute beauty mark that sits just beneath his pierced lip, how his nose scrunches when he laughs. He’s breath taking.

“...Kinda.” You admit with a smirk.

“Really?!” He sits up faster than someone in his condition should be able to, until he’s cross-legged on the rug running fingers through his raven hair. Using his other hand to dramatically fan his face to cool down. “Don’t mess with me right now, I’ve been waiting a long time for you to say that.”

“I’m not messing with you.” You tut, sitting up with him. “Now I’m not saying I’m in love with you cause I’m not—”

“Fucking hell, ouch!” He snorts, eyes squeezed shut when his head lolls back with laughter.

You playfully smack his bicep, has it always been that big and hard? God damn. “Let me finish.”

“Okay you’re right I’m sorry…” He’s grinning, looking at you with so much adoration and love that your chest tightens. “Please do continue explaining to me that my feelings for you are unrequited, I love to hear it.”

“You’re soooo dramatic. Now I’m not saying that… I feel exactly how you feel about me…” You wet your lips, arrogance and the edible cloud your senses and you climb on top of him, straddling his legs with your arms draped over his shoulders. “But this is nice, really nice, seeing you like this. I could get used to it to be honest with you.”

At this his forehead comes forward to rest on your collarbone, you know he’s trying to hide that shit-eating smirk pulling his lips. He’s all talk and no action, because right now if you didn’t know any better you’d think you’ve managed to make him, Jeon Jungkook, flustered.

Truthfully his heart hammers inside his chest, sweat forms on the spans of his back, butterflies invading the depths of his toned abdomen. He’s thirty years old for fucks sake, he’s made out with plenty of girls in his lifetime. But the thought of making out with you does something funny to his insides. It’s the same feeling he got the first time you accidentally kissed him, the same feeling that overtook him when you first told him you loved him, the exact feeling he feels solely for you, the girl he’s loved for twenty seven long years.

“And the thought of making out with you doesn’t gross me out half as much as it probably should.” You add, shoulders bouncing, fingertips mindlessly toying with the hairs at the back of his head. “Unless you were bluffing?”

“You know that I don’t bluff.” He chuckles, dragging out the last ha before finally daring to look you in the eye. You’re so high, it’s obvious. You don’t mean this, right? Is he dreaming? Is he that high he’s hallucinating? Ten billion thoughts swirl his mind when you press your forehead to his, giggling.

“You don’t actually wanna make out with me, do you?” He sighs, “You’re only saying it cause you’re stoned.”

You shake your head, “Not true. I was the one who suggested Netflix and chill perfectly sober remember?”

This gets his attention, he’s laughing, hands finding purchase on the bend of your waist. “I knew that you knew what it meant! So does that mean you wanted me to fuck you tonight?”

“Honestly… I haven’t thought that far ahead yet.” You shrug, bringing a hand down to toy with the long silver chain he wears. “But right now I am thinking about making out with you.”

“Well in that case…” He straightens his back, clearing his throat, his features serious and voice low, “Who am I to deny my best friend of her deepest darkest fantasies—”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” You snort, “Do you wanna make out with me or not?” You challenge him with a quirked brow and sarcastic smile that has him stifling a mischievous scoff.

He’s nodding frantically, you focus on his features for a second. He really is so handsome. His eyes are sparkly like they usually are, though something different shines beneath the surface. Something darker, something almost dangerous and sinful. His right eyebrow is raised ever so slightly, drawing attention to the silver piercing that you barely notice anymore. This is the most stunning Jungkook’s ever looked to you and you’re both high as a kite, simply sitting on his living room floor in old comfy clothes.

“Oh I want to alright.” He affirms, wetting his lips before closing the short distance between your faces.

A spark that can only be described as pure ecstasy ignites your whole body when his mouth crashes against yours. Your eyes flutter shut when he kisses you, it’s… amazing. It’s like everything you’ve been missing in life is being presented in his kisses. To begin with they’re soft, slow, caring. Warm and sweet like honey. He takes his time testing the waters rather than diving in head first like most guys you’ve made out with have done.

Hands glide up your body until you’re fully encased by his arms. His fingers dig into your shoulders, forearms pressed against your back. Your own arms hang over his frame, bent at the elbows while fingertips play with his hair. You’re smiling against him, when he opens his mouth you mirror his movements, until your tongues touch and you whimper at the contact.

It’s Jungkook’s turn to smile now, as he squeezes you tighter and pulls your body closer. One hand now splayed on your back, the other gripping the top of your thigh. Underneath you his own thighs are tense, they’re borderline trembling with excitement and anticipation. He’s made out with women before but this is something else entirely. He’s made out with women while stoned before but none of his experiences even begin to compare to this. It’s electric, it’s fire, it’s love he’s sure of it.

Your tongue slides against his slowly when you kiss him, the cool metal of his lip ring against your mouth adds a new sensation to your make out session. It’s fucking inspiring how good this feels, so good that a gentle moan falls from your throat and is caught on Jungkook’s tongue. The fact you’re kissing your best friend right now doesn’t phase you one bit because even you can’t deny this feels right.

“Y/N…” He pulls back enough to whisper, averting his lips to your neck where he plants more sinful kisses that make your head spin. “Could kiss you all night.”

“Get back up here and do it then.” You chuckle, tugging his hair until you’re nose to nose. “Unless you were bluffing of course.”

At this he laughs momentarily before something snaps inside him and he’s kissing you again. Mouth crushing against yours hungrier, hard enough to bruise. It’s feverish, desperate and needy. But you don’t complain, why would you? He was right. 

He surely is the best kiss of your life.

x

[sashaforthewin]

Going through my huge ficlets doc to see if there's anything near done, so here's a little one of poor Will trying to kiss Eddie and it ending up getting Steve and Eddie together.

---

"It's just hard being… being gay. It's so… lonely. Like, I'm in a room filled with people I love but I'm alone," Will said, voice overflowing with emotion.

Eddie knew. He knew the feeling all too well.

He leaned over and pulled Will into a hug and held him while the boy cried. Eventually the boy quieted, but he still held on, so Eddie didn't let go either. He figured Will knew better than him how long he needed to be hugged. 

It was a clear night and the stars were out. They were hanging out on top of Eddie's van at the edge of a field that was typically used for casual games of baseball in the spring, but tonight it was their own private sanctuary to talk about the cruelties of life. 

After a long while, Will lifted his head but kept his arms around Eddie, who smiled at him reassuringly. 

But then Will did the unexpected. He leaned in and kissed Eddie, who pulled away immediately and damn near fell off the side of the van. He didn't fall, but he scrambled down to the grass as fast as if he had. Will climbed down after him. 

"No! No, no, no, not happening, kid."

"Why not? We're both gay and you're really nice."

"You're like thirteen!"

"I'm fifteen!"

"And I'm twenty-one, so big ol' nope!"

"I won't be fifteen forever, and I'm mature for my age."

Eddie sighed, but stopped pacing and squared his shoulders, leveling Will with a serious look.

"The fact that you said that proves you aren't mature for your age. I'm really sorry, I know it's hard when you have basically no prospects for love, but trust me, it does get better. Just, if someone says no, don't try to talk them into changing their mind, that's a bad look."

"Oh. Oh shit!"

"Don't worry about it. Water under the bridge. But just try to find someone your own age, at least until you're old enough it isn't as big a deal. Now I feel all creepy."

"Eddie, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

"No, you shouldn't have. I forgive you if you never try that again. And sorry for the reality check but it needed to be said."

"Yeah, no, I won't do that again. I don't think I'd survive another rejection like that. I'm fine, though! Just, uh, embarrassed," Will assured.

Luckily, both were able to shake off the awkwardness and Will was feeling better by the time Eddie dropped him off.

Needing to tell someone about what just happened, Eddie headed over to Steve's house. He checked the time and then checked to see if Steve's parents' car was in the garage. Once he was sure he would only be waking Steve, Eddie knocked and rang the bell a few times to be annoying. Then when it was taking too long, he threw some pebbles at Steve's window. Unfortunately there was a screen on it so the pebbles bounced off with a gentle ping noise. 

As Eddie was looking for a slightly larger rock to throw, the front door finally opened and a very sleep-ruffled Steve Harrington blinked out at him from a blanket he was wrapped in. 

Eddie dropped the rocks he had picked up and pushed into Steve's house, shutting the door behind him and herding the blanket-wrapped Steve back up to bed. Once in his room, Eddie unceremoniously knocked Steve over onto the bed and then struggled for a bit to get his boots off before climbing in and invading the blanket burrito to snuggle his sleepy friend. 

Steve was nearly asleep again, but the intrusion into his cocoon had at least partially woken him again. 

"Hi."

"Hi. You're never going to believe who tried to kiss me tonight."

It took a moment for the words to sink into Steve's sleep-slowed brain, but suddenly he was wide awake and staring at Eddie.

"Someone kissed you?"

Eddie paused. He had been about to recount the story, secure in the knowledge that Steve would find it as hilarious and also heart-breaking as Eddie did now that the teen understood his misstep. But Steve's question was dripping with unexpected outrage and Eddie needed to poke the bear and see what happened.

He gave Steve his most puppy-dog eyes as he nodded.

Steve stared into Eddie's eyes, lost in thought. 

"I don't like the idea of someone kissing you," Steve admitted, as if he just couldn't stop himself.

Eddie glanced at Steve's lips, making sure Steve noticed. "I have to kiss someone eventually."

"I don't like the idea of someone else kissing you," he amended as he slowly leaned in.

As soon as Steve started to make the move, Eddie just hurried things along by crashing his lips to Steve's for the first time and rolling him over to further insinuate himself into Steve's personal space.

The next morning, when they had well and truly talked, it was decided that they were officially dating, that Eddie was a manipulative butt for implying some sorted affair when it had just been a misplaced crush, (even if it was the catylist for Steve finally making a move,) and that they would never torture Will by bringing up the kid's embarrassing moment. 

"God, you're lucky it was Will, he's so sweet he probably won't even be mean to you. Wish I could say the same for that little idiot, Mike."

"Wait!" Eddie exclaimed, "Mike Wheeler… Did Mike kiss you?"

"He tried to, I saw it coming and put my hand over his face. He still hasn't really forgiven me even though I explained why it couldn't happen. Obviously don't tell him I told you this."

"Wow. Holy shit, I cannot believe that's why he pretends to hate you! Ha!"

Steve leaned in and kissed Eddie, since he was now able to kiss him whenever he wanted. It was nice to have someone his own age, and helped that he was cute and charming and fun and clever. 

"You know we have to try to set them up, right?"

"What do you think I've been doing?" Steve demanded, arms thrown wide. "Those little idiots are so oblivious we could probably lock them in a closet together for a day and they'd still come out frustrated and miserable!"

"Hmm, okay, I'm just gonna be blunt and tell them they like each other when we get them together here later. Also, call them and get them to come over later, just the two of them. I'm putting an end to this dumbassery."

Steve opened his mouth to protest but then thought, eh, fuck it. If it was Eddie saying it, they'd probably even listen. Either way, it would be fun to watch!

[moonlight-tmd]

Thinking about Warframe!Bumblebee again.

I feel like Ratchet would know Bee was a victim of reformatting.

Reformatting itself was a dangerous if not morally illegal practice, anyone who went under such procedure was bound to have some sort of issues. Same was with Brasshorn-now-Bumblebee.

When he was put in the repair crew, Ratchet instantly noticed the specific mannerism Bee had- Whenever there was physical work Bee was always the first to be tired, even if it was a minor task, he often clawed as his chassis when he thought no one was looking, just as if he was in pain. The real issues only surfaced when they had to go into a risky zone to repair a stray spacebrige gate. They've ran into some non-friendly creatures and Bee barely managed to get out alive.

He had several injuries, he ended up in medbay and passed out halfway thru a scan. Ratchet had to do an emergency surgery on him and only then realized what has happened to Bee.

Bee's Spark and casing was way too big for his small frame, almost 3 times the size his frame was designed to hold. He had several issues with energy and energon flow and the wiring looked horrendous, not professional at all. Ratchet had seen similar things and quickly connected the dots. He fixed him up to the best of his capabilities and made sure there were no issues with his Spark.

After the surgery when Bee woke up Ratchet asked him about it but Bee didn't say anything other than what his previous frame type was. He was put on leave to recover, Ratchet didn't tell his status to anyone, and if someone asked he masked it as private information of the patient.

Another thing is with Bulkhead- I think he and Bee are close enough for Bee to tell him certain things about his past life.

When Bee and Bulk were in boot camp they became friends, at some point they were talking about their pasts and Bee has leaked few of the aspects of his warframe life. This got Bulk interested but he saw how uncertain Bee was about it so he didn't push. With time he learned more about his friend; that he used to be a warframe, that he was great with engineering, that he had a beautiful house on a planet named Sirras and had a Conjunx he loved dearly.

I think Bulkhead would be the only bot to know that Blitzwing and Bee are Conjunxes. Like, he obviously noticed something was up with Bee the moment the Decepticons showed up. After the first few days of Bee acting like everything was normal he got worried and asked him to speak privately. And surely enough, Bee trusted him enough to tell him that he found his Conjunx. So Bulkhead doesn't target Blitzwing in battles, if he does he makes sure to miss the big 'con with his strikes. Blitzwing was told to do the same, he never directly targets any of the repair crew.

I think at one point Bee makes a little meet up for the 2. They both pick a date and sneak out together to meet. I imagine it'd kind of awkward at first but Blitz and Bulk quickly get used to each other; both of them like art so that's a nice topic for them to chat about. Bulkhead wasn't keen on becoming an Autobot either, it was only an odd requirement for the job. He doesn't have any bad emotions towards Blitzwing. The fact he and Bee were conjuxed way before Bee met Bulkhead was enough to make him trust the Triple Changer, he treated his little buddy right.

[the-downwardspiral]

The First Commandment ;;; Asa Emory x Male!Reader SMUT

TW: Religious Trauma, Mentions Homophobia & Bad Parents, Asa, Y'all fuck in a church so-

ALSO M/N MEANS MALE NAME IG

You lean against the cold wood of the church pew. Your face is wet with tears and snot as you're sobbing, begging for God to forgive you. Your parents had just kicked you out. They found out. They found out about that "DISGUSTING" and "UNHOLY" way of loving you felt. You left your diary out and they had read all about the boy at church you had a crush on. You were ashamed, embarrassed, REVOLTED with yourself for feeling these feelings so you came to the only place you felt could take them away. That place being the church that has teared apart your mind and soul and heart and anything else that could have made you your own person. You have simply been a shell, a vessel for their scriptures to flood into and brainwash. But yet, you wish that they could save you. You wish they could have made you normal, wish they could have you living your life normally with your parents. But yet, you're here sobbing on the cold limestone floor and nobody has answered your prayers. 

"GOD, I'M SO SORRY.. PLEASE JUST REMOVE THIS SINFUL DISEASE FROM ME.. I WANT TO GO HOME.." you say, crying out more. But then, you heard the tap tap of some boots.

 You look from the pew to see a rugged, older looking man walking up to the altar. He looks up at the beautiful yet painful artwork on the ceiling and sighs heavily. You gaze at the man, admiring his looks until he turns your way. Its as if he had felt your sinful gaze on him. You wipe your tears and try to get up to leave but he grabs your shoulder with enough force to almost break it. Your already teary eyes started to cry again from it.

"It's late." he says firmly. 

You swallow. How would you explain yourself for being here at this hour without delving into your shitty life? Instead of responding with words, you simply look down. You're sure the tear soaked, solem face you have at the moment speaks for itself. The man takes some time to look over your face as if he were reading every thought you're having at the moment. He then lets go of you and grabs one of the bibles from the shelf on the back of the pew. 

"This book. It's full of lies, you should know that."

He stares into your eyes as he rummages in his pocket, pulling out a lighter. The man shifts the bible in his hand to hold it in a better angle. But right before he can set it on fire, you grab the bible and look at him with anger and fear in your eyes. 

"Why the hell are you doing this? Trying to burn a bible in a church? Are you fucking insane?"

The man grabs the bible back from you with no struggle at all, and you cry and plead for him to not burn it.

"Listen, boy. Why do you try to defend this book when, and this is a long shot, it seems to be ruining your life?"

He stares deep into your eyes, awaiting a real answer. There's no getting out of this already weird and awkward encounter. 

"I.. have to. I don't want to end up in hell.. Although I guess I've already got myself a damn ticket for the bullshit I've been thinking."

The man raises an eyebrow at you and lets out a sinister laugh. 

"Oh? What kind of things?"

You gulp. Is it getting hot in the church? Or is it the fire of hell coming to take you for the sinful things you are thinking about right now. The man notices how red you are and laughs yet again.

"No need to answer me, boy. Your reaction speaks for itself."

You feel your face get hotter.

"I uh- I never caught your name sir. I'm m/n by the way."

He smiles, dropping the bible onto the floor and stepping closer to you.

"Emory. Asa Emory."

That name seemed familiar, but you couldn't care less. You were tired from crying (among other emotions at that moment.)

"Well, nice to meet you Mr. Emory."

"Nice to meet you too, m/n. Now do me a favor and sit down on that pew for me. Alright?"

You nod, sitting down confused.

"Say, m/n, do you happen to remember the first commandment?"

You take a moment to think, but then you remember it.

"That one is... 'You shall have no other gods before Me' if I'm not mistaken."

He smiles at you again, lifting your chin up to have you looking at him.

"Good job. It's such a shame you'll be breaking that commandment pretty soon boy."

Your face turns bright red. Those sinful thoughts are going a mile a minute, and you don't feel like shaming yourself for them right now. Asa's comment has you intrigued.

"W-What do you mean-?"

Asa grips tighter on your chin, his smile becoming a bit more sadistic.

"You innocent little thing. I'd like to save you like a real god should."

He then moves his hand from your chin up to your hair and pulls you up, having you stumbling to stand. The larger man kisses your forehead lightly and then lets go. Before even being able to stand up right you drop back to the floor, looking up at him fearfully. The sight of you down there had his mind as full of filth as yours was.

"B-but- We're in a church Mr. Emory- We can't do such sinful deeds in here-"

"Says who?"

You gulp, hoping he doesn't see the growing tent in your pants. Of course, Asa is a very observant man so he did in fact notice.

"Seems you've got a bit of a problem down there. Would you like a bit of help, boy?"

"I-I.. Y-Yes-"

Asa smirks as he looks you up and down. It's as if he's undressing you with his eyes, and honestly you'd love if he actually was. Yet again, it seems as if he read your mind. Asa kneels down in front of you and kisses you roughly. You moan through the kiss and grasp at his shoulders as he starts to pull off your shirt. 

"M-Mr. Emory--"

"Hush, boy."

And you did.

Asa started to undress himself as well with a rushed pace, he was fully prepared to ruin the smaller man in front of him. You bite your lip as he pulls his boxers off, revealing his huge, hard dick. You shut up every last doubt and lick slowly up it from base to tip, then just going in circles on the tip. Asa, seemingly annoyed, puts his hand on the back of your head and pushes you all the way down on his cock. Your eyes tear up and you try desprately to pull back from it. His strong grip doesn't let you though, and your vision starts to go black. He sees you start to slow down fighting back so he pulls you back for you to catch your breath. You gasp for air, tears running down your face. Asa wipes the tear from you, and stands up.

"Be a good boy and bend over the side of the pew."

You do as your told, eager for the man to be inside you. 

"I'm about to show you who your real savior is."

And with that, he rammed his cock so hard into you that you swore you could see stars. He kept this bruising pace, grabbing tightly onto your hips so he can keep ramming fast and deep into you and hitting your prostate head on. Your moans and screams echoed through the church, and you knew if anyone was anywhere close to the place they'd be able to hear you. But the thought of everyone around being able to hear you in there made you want to be even louder. Soon enough, with the amazingly painful thrusts and the embarrassment of being made such a whore in a holy place, you cum more than you ever have. Asa pulls your head back by your hair and starts going even faster if that's possible. Your face is covered in tears and sweat and your throat hurts from both the hard throat fucking you just got and all of the screaming. Finally, Asa does one last deep thrust into you and cums. Both of you are left panting as he pulls out, and you collapse onto the pew. He starts to put his clothing back on and redresses you, giving you his shirt to wear instead. Asa then carries you out of the church and heads to his place, not caring about the mess you both made.

[mistydeyes]

Are your pairings still open? Feel free to ignore this if they aren't

Pronouns:

She/her

Appearance:

5ft tall (short as hell) and chubby.

I'm very Pale with freckles and green eyes. I have dyed black hair cut into a shag with bangs.

I'm very insecure about my body and kinda hate the way I look. I may have a slight eating disorder but Im usually fine. Currently trying to lose weight healthily.

I dress kinda alternative in blacks and am always wearing a bunch of jewelry. (Mostly ones I make). I am also always wearing boots (Often platform boots).

I wear tight pants both beacause they look good and I have sensory issues. I can't stand loose ones and mostly wear yoga pants.

Other:

I love to sew, crochet, make jewelry, draw etc... Basically anything where I get to create something. I love seeing an idea come to life. I'm constantly making things and I like to fidget with anything I get my hands on (meaning I have a habit of breaking stuff) (oops).

I constantly crave affection (but will never admit to that) I really love cuddling, and am definitely touch starved but anyone who knows that has figured it out themselves. Because for some reason my brain thinks I don't deserve any of it.

I am way too nice to everyone, even at my own expense and tend to Bury my emotions when I am in pain. I have Depression and some anxiety and tend to worry about if anyone I know actually likes me while simultaneously thinking that I don't deserve anyone to love me.

I am shy and awkward as heck. But I will talk your ear off if you get to know me.

I love all animals and have a particular fondness for the odd ones. Reptiles and fish are awesome but I love everything including worms that I will rescue from the sidewalk.

I own some fish and shrimp that I love. My plecos and my gecko are like my babies. Especially my boy Groot. He's an albino bristnose pleco and is very ugly, but I love him so much. My entire phone is photos of him and my leopard gecko Leo. (Resisting the urge to attach one) (nevermind) (I'm attaching photos of him, Leo, and my other pleco- Carlos)

I know a lot of random facts about animals and can rant for hours about my interests. Very passionate about animals and their care. Love all mine even if I might play favorites.

I'm also not super Great at reading social situations. Expecially flirting. I am so oblivious and unless someone is incredibly direct I won't notice it or think it's a joke.

I will gift people I like things I make. I make a lot of plushies in particular that I create. I love to see people happy

Johnny "Soap" Mactavish (a/n: ur lil pets are absolutely adorable!! i literally cannot get over how cute they are, thank you so much for including pictures of them)

How you met: The first time you and Johnny met was definitely a story that entertained all your friends. It all started when you were at the pet store buying crickets and mealworms for your geckos. As you inspected the container of dried insects, someone came up next to you. You first noticed his basket was full of a 5lb bag of dog food that he effortlessly held in one hand. The next was his smile that lit up is face as he looked at you. "I think a restaurant would be a better place to find food don't you think," he asked you and you were a little confused. "But these aren't for me, they're for my geckos," you corrected and his smile faltered a bit. "I uh was just saying maybe I could take you to a nice restaurant some time," he sheepishly said and rubbed the back of his neck as his face grew pink. You had a habit of being terrible at reading social situations and were blushing profusely. "OH, I'm sorry I'm really bad at telling when people are flirting with me," you corrected. "Don't worry, I'm Johnny by the way," he said as he shook your hand, "how about I give you my number and you can call me when you're free? It looks like you have a little army to feed." He wasn't wrong, you were rushing home to feed your babies and this was just meant to be a pit stop. He read out his number as you typed in his number on your phone. "And don't worry if you don't want to, I won't take it to heart," he joked and went to go pay for his things. You stared at your phone for a while as you looked at his contact name "Johnny AKA pick-up line guy."

A peek into your relationship: "Open it," you said excitingly as you pushed the box into Johnny's hands. You had been working on a gift for him for ages and were happy to finish it just as winter was approaching. You had tried your best to keep it a secret and delayed the project as Johnny would always find a way next to you. "Alright, alright, chill little lass," he said as he pulled apart the layers of gift wrap and the lid to a box. You watched intently as he grabbed the two items which sat on a pillow of tissue paper. "You've really outdone yourself, bonnie," he said as he pulled out a crochet hat and scarf. "Heard you can get cold when patrolling and I thought it would keep you warm," you smiled as he inspected the stitches. He eventually saw that you had sewn a little patch with a dog that looked similar to his. "Yer attention to detail is something else," he said as he tried on the set for you. You quickly grabbed your phone as you snapped a picture of him. "That one's a keeper," you said as you laid your head in his lap. He took this time to pepper your face with kisses as you laughed at his stubble brushing your face.

Months later when he was on deployment, you got a message from Ghost that showed the scenery of a snowy cliff and in the center of photo was Johnny bundled up with his scarf and hat.