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#i know she was old i know but i thought she still had so long i just dont understand
mclqren · 20 hours
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HOW YOU GET THE GIRL ★ FC43
PAIRING ✦ franco colapinto x fem!sargeant!reader
SUMMARY ✦ with your brother's seat being taken by your admirer of the past year, you try your best to stay clear, but it's hard when franco is trying so goddamn hard to get your attention [ SMAU ]
WARNINGS ✦ cursing, very minor hate comments
REQUESTED ✦ here!
NOTES ✦ i am NOT fluent in italian or spanish so please correct me if i've messed up on either of them! i count this as the best of both worlds because i love having franco on the grid but i'm missing my goat logan. the faceclaim i've used is marissa long but feel free to picture whoever you want! my requests are open so feel free to leave a request :)
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yourusername logie, my bestest friend and the best older brother i could ever ask for. i am so so SO proud of you and the journey you have had during your formula one seasons. so many memories have been made, and i know that i will never ever forget the times we spent in the williams paddock, just having fun together (& bullying alex, obviously). the williams social media page won't be the same without me posting slips of you. trust me when i say this isn't the end, but simply the beginning. lots of love always and forever, y/n 💗
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logansargeant ❤️
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yourusername someone hit me up with an italian man please, i love this country
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user4 oh she's taking it
user5 mother as perrrr
user6 the sargeant genetics are LETHALLL
user7 please someone tell me why is she in italy if her brother doesn't drive for williams anymore?
user8 she's the williams social media manager!! she started in the same year as logan x
logansargeant baby sis ❤️
yourusername love you sm 💗
francolapinto did you know i'm actually half italian?
francolapinto sei molto bella🙏🙏 (you are very pretty)
user9 second year running and he's after y/n AGAIN IM CRYING
user10 after taking her brother's seat too PLEASEEE he has guts i have to give it to him
user11 FRANCO'S COMMENT I'M DYINGGGG
user12 and the way she's ignoring it too oh my days 😭 it's been a year and he's still on this
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imessages ( y/n )
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liked by logansargeant, francolapinto, and 92,801 others
yourusername week off 🍏
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user16 farm girl???
user17 where is she 😭😭
yourusername my best friend's farm 💗
user18 multi-talented girl fr
user19 she looks like she BELONGS fr
user20 she def doesn't want to go back to the old 9-5
yourusername oh def not
yourbsf my angel 🪽🤍
yourusername best time w you alwaysss 💗
francolapinto never wanted to be a goat so badly
user21 I AM PISSING MYSELF
user22 HE IS SO BLATANT AT THIS POINTTTT
user23 @/yourusername PLEASE WE NEED YOUR THOUGHTS ON FRANCO'S COMMENTS
user24 she def won't answer but it's still so fucking funny i can't
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liked by logansargeant, francolapinto, and 97,210 others
yourusername most beautiful place 💗
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user28 beautyyyy
user29 please y/n we need to see your pinterest RIGHT NOW the vibes are everything
user30 okay but...you & franco??
user31 what about letting people have some privacy, hm?
user32 oh wowwww
francolapinto not as beautiful as you 😉❤️
yourusername 🤣🤣
user33 FRANCO YOU DID IT!!!
user34 watch as franco puts y/n noticed x1 in his bio now
user35 THE WAY HE ACTUALLY DID IT. GIRL...
user34 I AM CREASING I CANNOT
lilymhe baby girl 😍
yourusername my lilypad i love you to bits!!
logansargeant are you sure you and that lion aren't twins
yourusername i'm thinking we were separated at birth??
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liked by francolapinto, alex_albon, and 699,303 others
tagged francolapinto
williamsracing and just like that, mr colapinto is a point scorer in formula one, in his second ever race!! congratulations franco, take a bow 👏💗
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user38 CONGRATULATIONS FRANCOOO!!
user39 big question is...which admin posted this?
user40 one MILLION percent y/n. no doubt about it.
user41 you can tell y/n posted this bc of her signature pink heart HAHA
user42 i just know somewhere franco is kicking his feet and giggling over y/n telling him to take a bow for his performance
user43 oh franco colapinto you have won me over
user44 seeing this and lowkey feeling so sad for logan
user45 no but imagine how y/n must feel?? her brother just leaving and having to post this, she must hate franco right about now
user46 honestly, judging by the post race interview, i think y/n is fine with franco scoring points, tbh!
yourusername 👏👏💗
francolapinto hearts ❤️
user47 I AM SOBBING THIS IS TOO CUTE??
imessages ( franco )
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imessages ( y/n )
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liked by logansargeant, francolapinto, and 101,989others
yourusername 🦢🦢
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user48 IS MISS Y/N OUT ON A DATE???
user49 facecard could kill.
user50 Y/N ON A DATE WHO CHEERED
user51 someone check up on franco like right now.
user52 either franco is the guy in the pictures and that's why he's not commenting, or he's entered a depressive state
user53 knowing his dramatic ass it could be either
alex_albon mystery man 👀🤑
yourusername shhhh albon
logansargeant i'll fight him if he hurts you 😁
yourusername love you too logie 🧸
imessages ( y/n )
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yourusername city break 🇦🇷
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user54 FRANCO CAMEO FRANCO CAMEO THIS IS NOTTTT A DRILL
user55 I AM SCREAMING
user56 alexa play how you get the girl by taylor swift
user57 she's in his hometown...so this serious stuff now
user58 Y/N I LOVE YOU FOR THIS
francolapinto 😁❤️❤️
yourusername 💗💗
logansargeant willing to fly out to collect you if i have to 🫡
yourusername i promise you i'm fine 💗
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francolapinto 1 AÑO DESPUÉS… ¡¡TENGO A LA CHICA!! ¡¡VAMOS!! la persona más hermosa por dentro y por fuera, con el corazón más grande que jamás haya existido. estoy tan feliz en este momento que las palabras no pueden explicarlo. te amo te amo te amo ❤️ (1 YEAR LATER… I GOT THE GIRL!! COME ON!! the most beautiful person inside and out, with the biggest heart that ever lived. i am so happy right now that words cannot explain it. i love you i love you i love you ❤️)
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user59 original y/n franco fans RISE
user60 WE ARE THE REAL WINNERS!!
user61 oh he is in love for real
user62 need someone to love me how he loves y/n
user63 their love is so so special
user64 okay but how's logan feeling about all this...? must be so awkward...
user65 judging by his comment...i think he's doing absolutely fine 🤣
logansargeant hurt her and i'm at your doorstep. 😊
francolapinto will never be a problem 🫡
yourusername you're the cutest ever
yourusername FRANCO 🤣🤣
francolapinto let me share my love for you, no?
yourusername i wanna kiss you so bad rn
logansargeant keep it pg-13 please.
yourusername logan.
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TAGS ✦ @shepgurl ; @blushmimi ; @nyxx-knight ; @fall-bambi ; @suns3treading ; @wowzees ; @d3kstar ; @poppysrin ; @ailooosworld ; @joalslibrary ; @dejavuontrack ; @dripostsstuff ; @kaylassturniolo
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lovecried · 3 days
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˚˖𓍢ִ໋˚ ROUGH AROUND THE EDGES.
you've made your way up the rankings and retired pro-hero, dynamite aka bakugo katsuki, couldn't be more proud.
( fic demographics. ) boku no hero academia, bakugo katsuki, sexually mature | minors, ageless & blank blogs: do not interact & 7370 words.
╰┈➤ retired pro-hero!bakugo katsuki, sidekick turned pro-hero!reader (she/they), age gap (bakugo in his early to mid fifties/reader in their early thirties), alcoholic consumption, standing sixty-nine, playful banter, some bratty behavior, rough sex, unprotected sex (creampie), multiple orgasm, mating press, cum swallowing, slight slapping, dirty talk, etc.
( author's note. ) i realized that im a basic bitch and usually stick to the same kinks and positions in my smut and decided to change it up slightly. ended up having so much fun that im now currently in a bakugo rut and want him to do some very nasty shit to me.
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Bakugo doesn’t quite remember when he started feeling so old. When did his hearing become so sensitive? Was it from the multiple times he had was an inch away from his own end— a ringing in his ear that was damn-near deafening? Or is it simply because he’s halfway to his sixties? When had his appetite become so bland? How come he can’t drink as much as he wants now that he’s retired from being a pro-hero? 
He thought the moment he finally received an actual break, things would get better, but he’s wishing to go back. Is there a type of quirk that’ll de-age him? It doesn’t have to last forever, just long enough where he can bask and reminisce in the feeling of being young and in his prime. Now he’s in his mid-fifties and he can’t move as freely as he wants to anymore. He was once a high-ranking hero working his ass off to be at the top and giving himself little time to enjoy it. Not that he could, danger was always a millisecond away. He got everything he ever wanted. He should be proud of it, and he is. He truly is, but God damn, sometimes does he have regrets. 
He’s still nursing this glass of whiskey that the bartender served him for ten minutes, sitting at the bar of a pristine place only open to pro-heros and sidekicks, active or retired. It’s a Thursday evening, a quiet night unlike its usual business. Bakugo’s always here on a Thursday, so much so that the moment he walks in, the bartender Akiri already has his drink waiting for him. Always cold and fresh, like it was served right in front of him. She has a weird quirk— everlasting ice— but it proves to be great in her line of business. 
The television is on and despite the music playing, he can hear the current news report. 
“This just in on Pro-Hero ranking, Spiderweb continues to climb the charts, their venomous webs seemingly seeping a new poison that makes every fall in love with her. Rumor has it that she’ll be the number one hero within the next month—”
Bakugo doesn’t hear your arrival, not hearing the jingle of the overhead bells the moment you walk in. He doesn’t even hear the moment you slide out the chair, its legs scraping against the tiled ground. You frown as his focus remains on the television, watching you when the real deal is right there. He really is getting rusty.
“You're losing your touch, Dynamite,” you slide on the stool, grabbing his drink right out of his hand the moment he falls out of his trance. “A villain could've walked right in and you would've been—” you snap your fingers. “—done for.”
He ignores your comment because he knows you're right. Can't argue that he still had the skills. He had some, but some wouldn't be enough. Instead he takes you, drinking you with his eyes. You're still in your hero suit that closely resembles everyday clothing to the regular eye, but Bakugo knows how you designed your hero fit, he helps you improve it after all. 
An ashy purple top that sucked you in, holding you in place. It had a dark gem-like pattern on it that people could mistake for rhinestones, but you were intricate with the design, using the same fluid you use to take down villains to help create the spider web pattern that runs down the top. Around your wrists, are smaller and more stylistic versions of his gauntlets, resembling bangles to help you store sweat. Similar to his quirk, you form the webs through your build up of yours with further additions. He remembered you explaining just exactly how your quirk works, but started to check out once it became too biological. 
Your black pants were baggy, helping with your own comfort as you had a fanny pack around your waist, holding them up. The boots you wore were another storage for your sweat, your clothes being a tool to absorb your bodily fluids, where you were able to experiment with yourself and further prove your usefulness. It definitely contrasted with your old sidekick uniform— a skimpy piece that you paid someone to have designed for you and you didn't have the heart to tell that you didn't like it. Considering that you're climbing the rankings now, he figures you've finally grown that backbone you used to lack when he first got you. 
“Well, if it isn't Spiderweb,” he turns in his seat to face you. It's apparent that he still works out, arms still bulging out, though he's gaining some chub in some places. But that scar on his face and his facial expression doesn't have you fooled, he's still rough around the edges. “I still prefer Deadly Spider, by the way.”
You roll your eyes with the tilt of your head as you scoff out sarcastically, “Of course, you do, Explosion Murder God— whatever it is.”
“Haha,” he feigns laughter, subconsciously scooting closer to you. “What're you doing here? Shouldn't you still be on patrol?”
“I'm not rumored to become number one for nothing,” you wink. I finished up early. Bakugo snorts. Finishing up early doesn't exist, and you know that. Hearing his snort, you stop the joking and become a little more serious. You technically weren't lying when you said you finished up early. “I was on a case for a while. I should still be out there, but I managed to crack shit down and I decided I needed to reward myself after a long day.”
He nods, bringing his glass to his lips finally. “You've gotten good,” he gestures to the screen.
“I had a good mentor,” you smile. He chuckles at that, “Damn right, ya did.”
You can't help but giggle as you slump in the chair. You can see him looking at you from the corner of his eyes, those vermillion eyes that used to always be set in a scowl now seem to be brighter. He lets out a breath as he downs the whiskey in one go. “‘m proud of ya, (Y/N). You're not disappointing me after all.”
“Have I ever?” You expect the answer to be yes. That there must've been times where you've disappointed him, especially in your early days of being a sidekick. A few UA graduates that had your tail between your legs and didn't know how you survived the lot of it. You made stupid mistakes and were chastised for it. Surely those were the moments where he was obviously disappointed in you, right? 
There's a long pause before he's shaking his head, beckoning the bartender over and asking for two more glasses. The bartender is quick, placing one in front of you and Bakugo. You're not a drinker, but you take a few sips from it. “Nah. Always knew I passed the torch to the right person.”
You snort, calling his blasphemy. “You're lying to me to make me feel good. What about that time I dropped that serum?”
“It was your first big case with me as a fresh graduate,” he remembered that day vividly. It was a month in of you being his sidekick. You were used to being by his side during patrols and smaller cases. He didn't expect to have you thrown in something like that so soon. He wanted to leave you behind, but others thought otherwise and in a rare moment, he didn't follow his intuition. “You were bound to fuck up after being thrown in with the wolves.”
Your eyes widen at his nonchalance, but they become serious in an effort to prove him wrong. Why would you want to? Bakugo can't understand as you start relaying moments where you messed up, whether it was a small accident or a huge fuckup. Stubborn as an ass, Bakugo still upholds his position. “Quit it, won'tcha? If I thought y’er a disappointment, you'd’ve been fired a long time ago.”
“Well,” you start to tear up. “That's refreshing to hear after all.”
“Now, don't make me change my mind!” He knows you all too well, seeing how the corner of your eyes start to water. “Here I thought ya finally grew a backbone, but y’still cry like a baby.”
“What?” You exclaim, not denying his claims. “I've never cried in front of you. How'd you even know?”
“Y’always were on the verge of tears, honey,” he smirks. “It wasn't hard to miss.”
The way honey fell from his lips with ease. His raspy voice sent something straight through you that it was hard to keep your composure. You're starting to remember your younger years where you'd ogle him, all while trying to not cry from him yelling at you. Despite how rough he seemed back then, you had developed a crush that you thought you grew out of. But, here you are, falling back into old ways. 
If Bakugo notices a shift, he doesn't mention it. Instead, swiveling back around to stare at God knows what. You clear your throat, taking a huge gulp of the whiskey. Your throat burns as you quickly question why Bakugo seems to like it so much. “I'm getting better though. At hiding my tears, and I do have a backbone, by the way. Just took me a while to find it, but it's all intact.”
“Good to know,” Bakugo says, dismissively, the atmosphere changing. You try to say something else, but you can't find anything to talk about anymore, despite your mind running with lots of stuff. You remembered a month into Bakugo's retirement that he started coming to Sakura's Blossom— the bar you're in now. A popular place for heroes to relax, somewhere Bakugo used to always avoid as a hero, becoming a favorite for him. When he pushed you to become a hero, your early days were close in its vicinity. You'd always see him walk in, but he's never seen you. It became a regular for him to come in on Thursdays, making it easy for you to find him.
You've always wanted to run after him, tell him how much you're grateful for his endorsement and that you'll make him proud. Because in the midst of it all, you had forgotten to and it was slowly eating at you. You had been raised to always give gratitude and you couldn't even thank the man that put you where you are today. But now, your throat is dry and you still can't. 
You can. You. Can. You can—
Bakugo pushes out against the chair, standing up as he pays for the bill— for both yours and his drinks. He nods towards the bartender before looking down at a speechless you. “Good night, Spiderweb.”
You should've said it then, but you don't. “Good night, Dynamite.”
You managed to change your schedule, so that you have Thursday nights free, managing to find another hero willing to switch with you. You start making regular appearances when Bakugo's there, and when he asks, you always lie. Though, you know that he knows you're lying. However, he never says your word. Simply just enjoying your company. 
You missed him, missed having him around. And he realizes that he's missed you. When he first became a pro-hero and as he grew comfortable in this dangerous career, he flew solo. Did everything on his own and didn't want a shadow that wasn't his own following him around. However, as he grew in age and realized that a second hand wouldn't hurt, he hired you to help make things easier for him. 
At first, you were a mere pain in the ass. Like you had said, you had messed up countless times and God, was he close to firing you at plenty of points in time. But, something was hindering him from doing so. He just couldn't do it. So, he kept you and trained you to be who you needed to be— helped shape yourself into someone he was proud of, as well as yourself. Sometimes when you'd seek his advice, your voice would get soft and he’d be reminded of that young woman you once were, but you've grown so much. You still might not believe him, but damn is he proud of you.
“Breaking News! Spiderweb has found themself in a web of her own. An elaborate plan on her part turned against her as a villain gives her a taste of her own medicine. Luckily, other pro-heros within her vicinity were able to help rescue them, but she was gravely injured and was brought to the hospital. Reporters have yet to hear about their condition—
Bakugo doesn't think twice before he's springing from his seat, dropping some cash and heading in your direction. He should've known from the moment that you were ten minutes late than when you usually drop in to chat that something was up. “Fuck,” he curses, climbing into his vehicle and speeding in your direction. If he's got it right, he knows exactly where you've been taken. 
You've been in and out of consciousness the moment an IV has been shoved in your veins from the joint of your arms and biceps. You were in an immense amount of pain, nearly every part of your body aching. When you squint your eyes open, you're greeted with white and you know you're in the hospital. It should be a relief, you're alive, but you feel the tears building up. You've failed. And you have before, but this time it's different. 
In the midst of finding your groove and truly feeling like yourself, you've been forced flat on your back and lost the upper hand, having to depend on others to rescue you instead of doing the rescuing. You were careless, wreckless, a disappoint—
“Where is she?” You recognize that voice. That gruff and raspy voice. It doesn't help soothe the pain, only making it worse as you begin to sob. The machine you're hooked up to starts beeping erratically. 
“Sir, we need you to calm down. She's just starting to become stable. She's in good hands—”
“Then why won't you let me see her?” Bakugo slams his fist into the desk. “She's not in surgery, is she?”
“No, but…” It goes silent from there, hearing a slew of voices and footsteps rushing towards you before Bakugo follows. “That's her! Let me see—”
“Sir, if you do not calm down, we won't have a choice in having you removed!”
You don't remember much from that point on, knowing that Bakugo didn't go down without a fight and probably finding some sort of loophole into seeing you again. When you open your eyes once more, you're more stable and not in and out of sleep. You're still in pain, but feeling slightly better. 
“Yer up,” a deep voice booms, filled with exhaustion as a huge yawn leaves Bakugo's mouth. “‘Bout damn time.”
You should be happy that he stayed to make sure you're in a stable condition and that he cares for you, but you aren't. Only reminded of your mistake. “You—you should go.”
You end up croaking and stammering on your words, but he makes out what you say and scoffs. “What the hell are ya talkin’ ‘bout? Didn't come rushin’ here and fight off a guard just to be told to leave.” 
“Dynamite—”
“Bakugo—”
“Dynamite,” you pause, expecting him to rebuttal, but he doesn't. “Please, I don't have the strength. And, I don't want you seeing me like this.”
“Seeing you like how?”
“Vulnerable.”
He snorts, crossing his arms as he stands over you by the bed. His big arms bulge as he doesn't take you seriously for a second. “Don't give me that shit. I'm stayin’.”
You don't even know why you tried arguing with a stubborn ass like him. You should've known it was pointless. He always seems to get his way, so instead. You do what you do best. Cry. 
And it's worse than he can ever imagine. You're in full-blown tears, sobbing heavily that your eyes will be bloodshot red by the end of it. He doesn't know what to do or what to say to get you to stop, leaving him speechless as he can do nothing but stand there. Why don't you want him there so bad?
“I… I failed you,” you finally sob out, clenching your fists as they crack. Your nails dig into your skin as you force your body to turn away from him.
“What are you talking about?” Bakugo asks, incredulous. “Failed me, how?”
“I got too ahead of myself,” you further explain. “Thought I could take that villain on my own, only to get a taste of my own medicine.”
Is this what this is about? Why you were in such a haste to kick him out of your hospital room? 
His uncontrollable laughter catches you off guard, having you spinning your head to look at him so hard that it hurts. “W-why are you laughing? It's not funny!” 
“Oh, honey.” There he goes, calling you honey in your horrible predicament. “But it is!”
His laughter dies down not too shortly after, a hand instinctively reaching to caress you, pushing away your braids that nurses lazily put in a ponytail. “It was bound to happen. You climb up the ranks, get a little cocky and then God strikes ya down. Happens to us all.”
“You make my near-death experience sound like it's normal,” you mumble.
“It is,” he points out. “For people like us. It's what we signed up for— it's what you signed up. Be grateful you're alive. From what I'm hearing, you'll make a great recovery. If Recovery Girl was working here, you'd have been out of here quicker than this.”
“I thought you were going to chastise me,” you admit. “It's what I wanted— what I needed.”
“If ya wanted it so much, you wouldn't’ve tried kicking me out.”
“Mmm, maybe you're right,” you give up. “You should still, though.”
His eyes grow dark in a teasing fashion, looking down at you. “And give ya what you want so easily? Not a fat chance.”
As Bakugo had said you would, you make a speedy recovery, getting back on your toes in no time. You take his advice, taking it easy and to not make the mistakes he made earlier on in going solo. Your ranking has dropped a few, having to live with the next month or so with people ridiculing and noting how you got full of yourself. They were right, you did, and you'll learn to be better— to accept help and ask for it. Being a pro-hero isn't a one-man gig, after all. 
You still have your Thursday nights free to spend them with Bakugo. Your accident seems to bring the two of you incredibly closer, and to the few onlooking pros that saunter inside, it's too close. You scrunch up your nose in laughter. You slap at his chest in your fit of giggles as his arms instinctively wrap around your waist and pull you closer, your head falling to his chest. You're laughing so hard that it's hard to breathe and you're nearly choking. “Woah there, honey. ‘M not that funny.”
You stop laughing, expression turning serious in a millisecond that it's nearly concerning until your voice is barely above a whisper, “Stop calling me honey. I don't think you're aware of what it does to me.”
For a moment, Bakugo’s eyes widen at your openness before they share the same darkness that yours have been growing. “I wasn't, but now that I am, I think I'll just abuse that little info.”
— 
Maybe Bakugo’s alright with this period in his life after all. Being able to say that he's an experienced man, where despite his long days of pro-hero work, he's managed to keep his dick wet through it all. It means he knows how to please someone of your caliber. 
He's a big man, despite the pudge that's grown on him. He can't workout as much as he used to, but picking you up? You're light as a feather. 
The moment he got you through his front door, he couldn't wait any longer. He needed you in a way he's never felt with any other woman. The taste of your lips don't compare to the plenty of one night stands he's had. He's got you in his arms, legs wrapped around his waist as he pushes you against the door. The tent in his pants continues to form, rubbing against you as slick sticks to the crotch of your panties. 
“Fuck,” he curses deliriously, pulling away from the kiss with a hiss. His eyes are low and hazy, filled with wanton lust. “Bet ya taste so good. Been wanting to try ya for a while.”
“Oh really?” You giggle, eyes sparkling in interest. You buck your hips into him, feeling his cock against your core. He's pulling at the hem of your shirt, helping you out of this damned hero costume. “Since when?”
“Dunno,” he shrugs with a pant. With the top of your suit gone, you do him the favor of kicking off your pants. Leaving you nearly bare and for him ogle. His eyes are glued to your chest, getting rid of your bra next to play with your dark and pert nipples. Your breasts are perky, ready to be sucked on. He takes a nipple in his mouth before remembering what else he wanted to say. “Since ya started stalking me at the bar.”
“Wait,” despite the sexual situation you find yourself in, your eyes widen at the sheer fear that he knew that you had watched him. That he had known the small fact that you had memorized his scheduled visits to Sakura's Blossom. You push against his chest, pulling him away from your breasts. “You knew that I knew all this time?” 
“Feel like we're no longer on the same page here,” he furrowed his eyebrows to clarify, fingers trailing to pinch at your nipples. “But since ya started yer regular visits.”
“Oh,” your breath of relief turns into a whine when he twists rather harshly. 
“Y’were watching me from before?” His gaze becomes stern in a teasing manner, moreso like he's bemused by the fact. 
“Used to patrol right next to Sakura's,” you shamelessly admit, gnawing on your bottom lip as you start to grind against his cock. It has him remembering why you're here, what he wants to do to you. “A hot spot for pro-heros— a villain's bound to hit some day.”
“Oh, shut up already,” he finally huffs out. 
“You're the one asking the—” You squeal as Bakugo flips you upside down, feeling his nose press into your mound. He takes a deep inhale that you can feel. His hold on you gets tight, a visceral grip that will have your sides aching by the morning. “Oh, gosh! Dynamite!”
Your damn dedication to calling him his hero name pisses him off, especially in a position like this. “Don't call me Dynamite when I'm tryna eat yer pussy.” The slap to your ass echos the room, you swallowing a breath of air in your shock. “It's Bakugo or Katsuki from this point on, got it?”
He slaps your ass again at your silence. “Ya got it?”
“Fuck,” you finally mewl out. “Yes, Bakugo.”
His cock twitches, loving the way you say his last name. He smirks. “I'll make sure that I have it engraved in your head when I'm done with you.”
“Didn't you tell me to shut up alr— oh…” 
You feel his tongue against your covered mound, pressing into the fabric before the sound of sucking. He can taste you through it. He can taste your juices through the cotton of your panties with no shame at all. His eyes flutter shut as he feels your hands reach for his hips and dig your nails into him. They go through his shirt and into his skin as you can't help but roll your pelvis into him. 
You can feel the blood rush to your head, but fuck are you enjoying this. His desperation to taste you at his front door, not bothering to get you down on a bed. More juices pool from you as you gain more stability in this position, bucking your hips up to his mouth as you feel his teeth graze your skin, catching the hem of your panties and tugging it to the side. The cold conditioned air that breathes down on your core is brutal and in the darkness, Bakugo can see your pussy shine in its wetness. “Shit, I’ve gotcha all to myself, don't I? You're just mine for the taking.”
Your hands traverse to his bottoms, unzipping it as you nod. “‘m all yours, Bakugo.”
You pull down his pants as best as you can, palming his cock through his underwear and hearing a slew of curse words fall from his lips. “Yer gonna be the death of me.”
Finally do you reach in his pants, pulling out his cock. He's been losing a lot of things due to age lately, and he's grateful that an erection isn't on the list yet. Hard and prominent and all for you, he can only see so much, trying to get a good look at your face from the position, but it's hopeless, he can only feel how good you are. With one hand, he uses it to wrap around your waist tightly before using the other to rub two fingers between your folds, hissing when he feels your tongue against his tip. He spreads your slick down your pussy, making your lips all messy of yourself while he tries to remain steady as you take him in.
You can't help but moan, feeling yourself pulsate at the idea of sucking Bakugo off. How the sheer thought of it makes your pussy pool with heat. Legs wrapped around his head, you yearn for more than just his fingers as they dance around your entrance, his middle and index digits a mess. Your heart races as your tongue swirls around his tip, tasting his precum against your lips. You salivate, letting your spit lubricate his cock as you use a hand to hold it up. You shuffle to get your tongue at the base, the tip of it touching the juncture of where his cock and balls meet. You feel a vein just right there and it seems to be a sensitive spot for dear old Bakugo, causing him to shudder the moment you touch it. 
“Keep doing that n’ I'm gonna cum like a little boy,” he warns you. And you were going to keep at it and play the part of a dirty little vixen until you feel his wet muscle at the center of your nectarine. Lips around your clit, Bakugo groans around it, tasting you from the fruit itself. It surely keeps you occupied as you momentarily lose focus. You grip around his base, squeezing it and causing his fingers to dig deep into you. Whimpering at the pain, it jolts you out of your haze as you bring his cock to your lips. It's a ravenous torture between the two of you, trying to bask in your pleasure while trying to grant the other some as well. 
Still, you mewl and moan around his length, eyes sparkling in delight as you swallow his shaft. Cheeks hollowing as his pink, cut top rests on your tastebuds. Pre continues to leak from him, a translucent mess that slides down with ease. He feels so good inside your mouth, and you can feel his legs flexing and contracting at what you're administrating. A true, dirty vixen you are.
But, Bakugo's no better to you. Lapping at your pussy like a starved man, both of you are so eager to give to each other. He tastes the intricacies of your pussy, mapping it out with his tongue as his grip around your waist tightens and his free hand is back to join the party. A thumb pressing down on your clit, building up pressure and has your legs tightening around his head. Around his length, your moans become more high-pitched at the overstimulation, feeling your legs tense then untense. 
Your face is a mess, saliva dripping down to your forehead due to this upside down state. Your head beginning to hurt but you don't have the heart to tell Bakugo to stop because you don't want to. It's bound for him to change positions soon, but gosh, you want to delve in this a little longer. You continue to bob your head, the wet sounds mixing with your slurps further sounding the room. You become daring, letting go of your other hand around him and putting all of your faith into Bakugo. Your upper body dangling upside down as your other free hand travels to cup his balls, shortly remembering that spot he oh-so warned you about. 
You fondle them, greeted back to that jerk of his leg as his waist’s now pressed to the door. He momentarily pulls off of you to curse, “Shit.”
However, he never corrected you or tried to get you to stop, simply speeding up his attack on your clit to receive a close response as well. It works, but you remain focus as your mouth is off him for a second as you stroke his length, finally taking in just how big he is and how you truly weren't able to fit all of him in. All this time, working with an aged cock that could destroy you. It has you whimpering out to yourself at the anticipation of your pussy being stretched out by him. His cock glistens even with such a lack of light, your spit being the work of that. Your strokes are quick and languid, mirroring his reign on your clit, causing your hips to jerk and twitch every so often. 
Your actions falter every once in a while, but you're so determined. You're always so determined, that's what Bakugo adores about you. Even as a sidekick that often fucked up, you had your own way of showing it. You were just like him in a way, stubborn as a mule to get what you want. You just needed to learn how not to give in to people when they bite harder. And here he is, gently nibbling down on your folds, but you refuse to back down, determined to make him come undone. 
You fondle his balls, adjusting his cock up, going to that dangerous place that he warned about. A chaste kiss before your lips are fully around it and you're suckling on one of his sacs. In this position, you can truly get a good whiff of him. There's a musk, but don't be mistaken, he's sure to clean himself. It's not overpowering as you can still smell the minty hint of whatever brand of bar soap he's using. The combination has your senses going to overdrive as your legs tighten immensely around him for a moment. 
That typical clench of your stomach goes ignored as you're determined to make Bakugo release. You're unforgiving and relentless, stroking his cock as mouth tries to fit his second sac of balls in. Your moan has become a melody to his ears as his head hits the door and he tries to remain focused on your pussy. She's so damn close, he grunts to himself. Don't give into her just yet. However, it's easier said than done when he feels his cock twitching in your hold and he moans. Sending vibrations straight to your core, your achievement and his response is enough for that band in your stomach to finally snap as he lets go. 
You both gift each other your essence. You, you're the forbidden nectar in the garden of Eden, your juices so natural that it tastes sweet. There's a tang to it that has him quickly intoxicated as he finds himself addicted. Him, he's like a refreshing taste of cold water on a hot summer day. You're feeling nothing but delight when his white cum shoots down your throat and you have no choice but to swallow everything— you wouldn't dare spit anything out. 
You both need a breather to come back to the present. You're still stuck in this now painful position as your head comes to throb and you have to croak out Bakugo's name to remind him. Slowly but surely does he get you back on the right side up before finally taking a step away from the door. His legs work like muscle memory as his lips plant on yours, swallowing away the pain as he makes a beeline for his bedroom. Pushing open the door and not bothering to have it shut, he hurries to put you down on the bed. He still has you in his arms when he does, grinding his still hardened length against your pussy. All traces of your release disappeared on his tongue, but you can still taste the remnants of yourself, as you both can taste each other. 
Now that you're on a bed, you feel yourself slowly checking out as the pain is slowly alleviated by your comfort. Bakugo mutters some stuff that you couldn't care less about, only mewling and nodding in agreement until you feel his hand grab your face, squeezing your cheeks. It's hard to focus on him, to stare right back into his eyes. 
“Awww,” he coos. “Is it all too much for my baby?” He noticed your disorientation immediately, planting a chaste kiss on your lips as his eyebrows knit with concern. “She doesn't want to stop, does she?”
Immediately comprehending that, you shake your head. “Mmm, no,” you squeak out. However, Bakugo's lips drop to your ears, whispering out, “are ya sure? We can always—”
“Yes— yes, I'm sure,” you persist. “I need you, Bakugo. Would you not help a woman in need?”
He doesn't like the way you stammered out that yes, still peering down at you. However, your eyes have significantly steadied now and that same brand of determination is back on your face to finally convince him. He finally caves with a barely audible ‘okay.’ He dives down to meet you for another kiss, hands roaming to grip your legs. So focused on the kiss, you're taken aback when he hikes on leg up, your knee touching your shoulder. His cock is perfectly slotted in between your folds before he does the same with your other leg. 
“Bakugo,” you groan at this change of position. He claims that you'll be the death of him, but you beg to differ. Your soiled panties are still on you, which Bakugo is sure to get rid of in a hurried haste, pulling so hard at it that it rips. You gasp, calling out his name once more, but he dismisses your complaint. “You'll be fine.”
You feel so exposed with your body pressed like this, in the dark with Bakugo looming over you. His cock slides in between your folds, wet sounds running through the air. You don't know what he's waiting for, so you do the work for him, wanting him to ravish you just as much as he does. That familiar grip returns to his cock and before you can press his head to your entrance, he slaps your hand away. You whine in protest, but he pushes you. “Have some patience, honey. Good things take time.”
The return of that damn nickname he's given you. Once used sarcastically, now one that he's going to use to his advantage because of you— all because you couldn’t keep in your attraction for him anymore. You should be grateful for it. It's landed up in this position, but now he always has the upperhand over you, knowing just how to make you cave. 
You clench around nothing, feeling his shaft go in a back and forth rhythm as it barely presses down on your clit how you want it to. You whine nonetheless, hoping that Bakugo will pity your desperation and give in. “Bakugo, please… I need you in me. Need to know how you feel.”
One hand comes to grab your face roughly, squeezing your cheeks to make your lips pucker up. “Oh, is that right? You need to know how I feel inside you? Or what, hm?” He challenges. “Ya gonna die without knowing.”
You nod, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. “I just might.”
He can't help but chuckle at that. “Yer cryin’, again? Yer tears don't work on me anymore, honey. They just egg me on. Love to see ‘em now. Know that I've got ya all desperate for me.”
“Don't care,” you mewl. “I want you inside me.”
He keeps up at it, gliding his cock between your folds and letting his shaft collect your juices. You're so fucking wet for him that all he wants to do is bury himself deep inside you and finish, but he practices what he preaches and holds himself back. “Is this how you are with all the men you sleep with? Such a whiny baby. Rumored to be the next number one hero, a crybaby for cock?”
He taunts and teases you, pushing out his bottom lip as he tuts. “It's almost cute.”
From all your whining and desperate begging, you don't realize that Bakugo’s now slotted the tip of his cock at your entrance. It's not until his head is inside and he's deep inside you that you fully register his intrusion, a loud sob coming from your lips as he stretches you out. But just as quick as you were shocked, moans slip easily from your mouth as you drag out just how you're feeling. 
Watching you—watching how your eyes are blazed with a fire that's filled with wanton lust. He's never seen it with everyone else and he quickly realized that you've gotten him under your spell and he's so deep in it that he doesn't want to retract. It's as though you're a succubus, a demon that feeds off of lust, with the way the corner of your lips turn upwards in a smile. Your hands come to wrap around his neck and Bakugo puts all his weight on you, causing him to go deeper in you. 
You feel the tip of his cock kiss your cervix, pain mixing in with pleasure. Your back’s barely able to arch against the bed under Bakugo’s heavy weight, but your nails digging into the nape of his neck is enough to communicate just how you feel. As do your words.
“Ba— Katsuki, you feel so good,” that sudden shift from his last to his first name nearly has him cumming inside you too early. The creaking of the bed halts for a moment as his crimson red eyes look deep into yours. With his stillness, it makes you focus on the length that's against your walls, stretching you out. “Yeah, I think I prefer you calling me Katsuki better. Be a good girl and keep at it, will ya?”
It sounds like a request, but in this position, you know it’s a command. You don’t have a chance to respond, not that you were going to. He’s thrusting into you once more, but this pace is more brutal than before as he sits up and drills into your pussy without any remorse. He pushes down on your legs, making them ache as they press against your breast, making them more accentuated. Your moans become more high-pitched as you cry out his name— his first name. 
“That’s it,” he grins, maniacally. “Call my name out like the dirty little slut you are. Let my neighbors know who’s making you feel this good.”
One of your hands drag to cling to his bicep, making marks in a matter of seconds as your juices spill out of you. You’ve never had anyone else make you feel the way that Bakugo does. How he easily takes control and dominates you. With him, he lets you know that while you run the streets of Tokyo, Japan, you’ll always be underneath him. The stinging pain that runs through your lower body is delicious and while you know you’ll bear the consequences in the morning, you bask in the pleasure it secretes now. 
In this moment, you become delirious as your imagination becomes active as you can see a future with Bakugo, but is that what he wants? Hands back on his neck, you tug him down to you. “Katsuki… need you.”
“You’ve already got me, honey,” Bakugo kisses the corner of your lips, pace slowing by a pinch. “What more do you need?”
“Kiss me,” you whisper, eyes becoming glossy with wanton need. Something snaps within the both of you, a sudden shift that changes the trajectory of your relationship with him forever. Time stops for a moment before his lips are on you— lust turning into something more, something fatal. No longer is he pistoning inside you to oblivion, but holding you with more care. Precise thrusts that still get the work done to having you call out his name without a care in the world. 
He’s hitting that special spot inside of you, memorizing the sounds you make just for him. That familiar coil comes back and you bring Bakugo closer to you. “G’nna cum. Please make me cum, Katsuki.”
“Anything for you, honey.” He helps you ride out your orgasm, slowing down as he brings your legs to finally lay on the bed. Not too long after does he empty himself inside you, painting your insides white before pulling out completely. He makes eye contact with you. This. This is the perfect time, your mind tells you. 
Getting your breath steady, you peer up at him. “I never did thank you, y’know.”
“For what?” he grunts, sitting up on the bed, completely towering over you as you stay in place. Climbing over you, he’s reaching for something. Shortly after, he tosses you a water bottle that you catch with ease. 
“Just…” you sigh. “For everything.” 
FIVE MONTHS LATER 
"Spiderweb has had such a spectacular come up. From working under retired pro-hero, Dynamite, as a sidekick to being endorsed into a hero. She’s climbed the roster faster than anyone else has and while she had her stumbling moments, she came back to kick butt and prove to Japan that she is the hero they need!"
"We’ve managed to get a video with the pro-hero themself about the announcement of her current hero ranking—" Shortly, they pull up separate footage of a next reporter before it shows you.
“Spiderweb, please tell us how it feels to currently be the number one hero of Japan!”
The camera pans to you, your eyes lighting up in delight. You’re panting heavily standing outside in the hot sun, evidently just finishing a case. You have to catch your breath before your attention is fully turned to the camera. “It feels… It feels unbelievable, y’know? I mean, I’ve heard the rumors about it, but for it to actually come true? It’s only been a couple years into becoming a pro-hero and it feels like it’s something I don’t deserve, but I know for sure that I’ve worked my ass off— sorry for the language, kids!
“I’m just really grateful,” you continue your rambling. “I’m really grateful for everyone who believed in me and put their faith in me, especially my old mentor, the man that endorsed me himself. Dynamite, if you’re watching this! I know I’ve already told you this already, but thank you! I couldn’t have gotten here without you. I love— I mean, I’m forever in your favor.”
It’s a Thursday night and he’s not at the bar this time. Instead, he’s at his place, getting ready to head to yours. He’s lucky he kept the television on to hear you say that. He’ll certainly tease you later for it, but now, a sense of pride washes over him.  “That’s my girl.”
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( author's note. ) this was only supposed to be 5k words, but gosh i had so much fun writing this. you guys have no clue.
228 notes · View notes
icallhimjoey · 22 hours
Note
supreme leader, would you ever write a sequel to ‘ground rules’ where our baby with joe is here and it’s just a cutesy dad!joe moment? (also wouldn’t be opposed to some smutty times as well bc i just can’t go past gotta-be-quiet-cause-the-baby’s-sleeping-but-fuck-i-want-you-right-now-new-parent-smut) heart you, as always!!
we're switching gears, everyone! sorry for the whiplash! Wordcount: 3K
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Only Have Eyes For You
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(read Ground Rules here)
Joe has yet to stop staring at her.
It’s either eyes on her, or eyes on you, and even though you’re gorgeous and make his chest swell beyond what he thought his ribs could ever manage, looking at her is different.
New.
“Will you keep an eye on her?”
“Yea, of course I will. Go get some rest, please, baby.”
It’s been over an hour, and he still needs to raise a thumb up to wipe a tear from an inner corner about every thirty seconds. For several reasons, too.
It’s been five hours since you’ve given birth, and both sets of grandparents – grandparents, that sounds so fucking wild – have left evidence of their visit all over the room. There’s balloons, cards, flowers, bags with gifts in for you and for the newborn baby girl and Joe feels like they brought too much and too little. Were there for too long but left too soon. Should’ve been there right after instead of two hours later, but also maybe should’ve come to meet the baby tomorrow instead of today.
He wants to protect and hide this little girl from the world, but also needs everyone to see how gorgeous she is.
Five-hour old baby, fast asleep in her clear plastic bed that’s been placed right next to your hospital bed where you’re asleep even faster.   
He’s got no idea how much sleep he’s gotten over this weekend. Doesn’t care, either. Just knows that he’s staring at perfection no matter which way he turns, and that the small of his lower back aches because he’s been sitting in his chair weird, but this is the only way he can both touch you and see her little face.
Her perfect little face.
Joe’s got a hand around your ankle as you lie passed out in your hospital bed, finally in what seems to be a deeper sleep rather than just a quick nap, and he wishes you could stay like that for at least the next ten hours. He knows it doesn’t work like that with a newborn, and you’re obviously in a hospital which doesn’t help, but God, you deserve to sleep for a fucking lifetime.
Everything that surrounds you looks and sounds normal, so he guesses your blood pressure must be okay, but he keeps his ears pricked, just to be sure.
The birth was a long one. Almost everything you had tried preparing for hadn’t happened in the way you’d expected, which is what everyone kept telling you was going to happen, but it was still frustrating. It did however feel very fitting with how the two of you had even gotten together.
It was a good thing you managed to pull through most of the labour with humour.
Doctors and nurses had started making jokes of you becoming permanent residents when your dilation had halted at six centimeters for ages, and in return, you had started making jokes that they were going to have to start knocking before coming in, because you knew of a way to induce the labour that Joe would feel more comfortable about if he had some privacy.
“No, no, I do not–” Joe had immediately protested the first time you’d cracked the joke, and the lack of laughter coming from him plus your weird eyebrow wiggle had only made the nurses laugh louder.
“Sorry to inform you,” the doctor said in the middle of giving you another check. “But having sex will not cause labour to begin before your body is ready for delivery.”
“It won’t?” You’d acted all heartbroken. Made Joe mutter, “Jesus Christ!” under his breath, because, you were six centimeters dilated for fuck’s sake. Of course he wasn’t going to have sex with you.
“We’re still not in labour, are we?” the doctor said, insinuating that he thought you had probably tried it at home already.
“Ask him how many times we’ve had sex...” you’d challenged immediately, making Joe groan from the corner of the room where he was sort of pacing around, facing the wall more than the room, because there was another man with fingers deep inside of your vagina, talking to you about sex.
“Can we please focus on—” Joe started, equally as embarrassed as he was humoured by you.
“Once.” You answered your own question and gestured at your stomach. “One time! All it took!”
It had become a running joke between the two of you that Joe didn’t think you were going to involve so many other people in. Joe had gotten you pregnant and then hadn’t touched you since.
Not true. There had been plenty of touching. But you were super pregnant when you’d gotten together and it never felt right for Joe to insert parts of himself into parts of you that felt like they belonged to a whole different person for the time being.
Which actually made a lot of sense to you.
It was just unfortunate that hormones had made you super horny for half the pregnancy.
Hence why it had become a running joke.
One that really annoyed Joe. You were lucky that he loved to hear you laugh and to see you smile so much.
When the two of you were left alone again, Joe scolded you through a smile and pressed kisses to your temple, because you were being funny and entertaining even though you’d just gotten bad news. Again.
Joe lovingly touched your stomach, and pressed his cheek to yours as he looked down at it and said, “You’ve made it too nice in there. She doesn’t want to come out.”
“Remember when we were like, let’s do this as friends...” you joked, but Joe could hardly focus on your light tone of voice when you grabbed hold of his bicep with a strong grip.
“Idiots.” Joe commented, finding your hand and covering it with his.
“I think we would’ve been able to do it, but—”
“You think so?”
“Yea. I was very determined. But, this is nicer.” You smiled and made eye-contact with Joe. He was quick with a tissue, to dab at your wet eyes. He’d learnt to be ready for every and any emotion over the past few days; everything and anything could bring you to tears.
“I wouldn’t have been able to do it.” Joe said, smiling too. “I was already sort of head over heels if I’m honest. You were determined for two, I think.”
That had made you burst into actual sobs.
The last hour of giving birth, you’d cried non-stop. A weird silent steady leaking of water from your eyes as you struggled through the delivery. Joe guessed it was the pain – had to be, because, what the fuck was even going on? How the fuck had nature decided that this was meant to be normal? But then finally, when soft baby cries filled the room, one of the nurses said, “You’re there, you’re done. Relax, we’ll take it from here.” He’d realized then that it they were tears of exhaustion over anything else.
You’d been going for hours, and then your blood pressure did something funny after the placenta got removed, so now they wanted to keep you for a bit, which was scary. But going home with a newborn sounded even scarier, if he was honest... so he wasn’t going to complain about how uncomfortable his chair was.
Or how tired he felt.
He’d been going for hours too, but his tired was different from your tired. He could feel it in his bones, sure, but it was easy to keep his eyes open. Easy to keep staring at her. Easy to do jobs whenever someone asked him to do one.
“Mum’s done. Now, dad, come here. Pay attention.” 
And he has not been able to stop paying attention yet. He’s listening to your breathing, paying close attention to the rhythm because you’re the priority after all that’s happened. Yet he can’t keep his eyes off of his baby.
There’s a baby next to your bed.
The one he watched you gave birth to.
Your baby.
His baby.
He thumbs another tear from the corner of his eye before it leaves a wet trail down his face and uses his sleeve to dry both his eyes as he pushes his nose into his elbow for a second, not letting go of your ankle.
Life is ridiculous.
He still feels emotional over seeing you scream and cry, in pain and all sweaty. You’d performed a miracle, but it was no fun to witness how difficult the whole thing was on you. Had he not already convinced you to be with him, he would have started that quest today and would’ve likely never stopped.
When he blinks his eyes back into focus, it’s to you stirring in the white sheets of your hospital bed.
He freezes.
Maybe if he holds his breath and doesn’t make a single noise, you won’t wake up. He’s not sure how easy it’ll be to fall back asleep if you pull from your unconscious state completely. He wasn’t there when it happened – had gotten hauled off to help wash and dress his baby (the tiniest clothes he’d ever seen still too big on her, he was pouring tears as he tried to put the socks on and hated how you weren’t there to see it) – but he was informed that you lost a lot of blood and needed a lot of stitching.
After going through all of that, you’d needed stitching.
Your baby had been taken to get cleaned up, and you’d told Joe to go with her. To watch her. To stay with her and to not lose her out of his sight.
He’d listened.
Knew better than to tell you no.
But then you were left on your own, and you’d needed stitching.
You can’t move without wincing now, and Joe could probably jog home if he really wanted to. How is that fair?
Joe holds his breath, and watches you stretch your spine in your sleep before you relax again.
But then suddenly, your slow movements turn jumpy as you jolt awake with a gasp. It makes Joe jump almost just as much, and he narrowly avoids your knee to his face.
He watches you wince in pain, clearly uncomfortable, but then you immediately sink back into the mattress when your eyes find the clear plastic baby bed that holds your child, and you release a relieved breath.
“My God,” Joe whispers, already humoured by what just happened. “She’s still here, calm down.”
“Sorry,” you croak, curling a hand around the edge of the hard plastic and Joe watches your knuckles go white.
“You okay?” Joe’s already up on his feet, hand on your face to wipe your hair back.
With your eyes still closed and head slumped to the side, you softly answer, “Hmm. My vagina hurts.”
“Yea, of course.” Joe nods, unable to look at you without all the sympathy in the world displayed on his forehead. “Do you need anything for the pain?”
“I need to pee, but I don’t want to. It’s already burning.”
“I’ll go get someone.”
“Please.”
Joe gets a nurse in, and he helps you get out of the bed before you’re helped over to the toilet. Not before you tell Joe to watch her. Watch the baby.
“I’ll keep an eye,” Joe says, because he’s already found it’s his new favourite thing to do. To stare at her. “Go pee.”
The door to the bathroom is left open, and Joe listens to your conversation as he does as he’s told.
It’s a lot of, “Careful, mum. Careful. Slow movements.” coming from her, and a lot of hissing in between your teeth from you. A lot of, “Is this normal?” questions coming from you, and a lot of “If you feel this, it’s probably for this reason, which is totally normal.” answers from the nurse.
Joe gets the room and the fresh new little person all to himself for a second, and he leans all the way over your bed, feet still on the floor, his head resting in both hands as he slowly blinks at what you’ve created together.
He can’t get over how you’ve made this.
Two people have just gone and accidentally made a whole new person... it’s legitimately insane, Joe thinks.
The peeing takes longer than Joe thought it would take. He doesn’t blame you for taking your time, but he hopes that you figure out how to do it without being in pain or needing any help before you get to go home.
Joe hears a shocked gasp coming from you before you softly ask, “That’s a lot of blood. Is that a lot of blood?” followed by a toilet flushing and a reassuring, “Absolutely totally normal. Don’t worry.”
Baby is still asleep. Soundly and so peacefully, small tiny nose doing a perfect job at breathing, Joe’s already so proud of her it’s stupid.
“Well done, mum! First bathroom visit!” the nurse claps her hands together and laughs when you give a sarcastic yay in faux celebration.
You’re miserable, but Joe can hear your smile through everything and it makes his heart swell even more with pride. For you. For urinating. He’s proud because you peed, what the hell.
He shares his first secret smile with his daughter. “Mummy peed!”
You get helped back into your underwear and joggers, and Joe lets his view distract him enough that he almost doesn’t hear what you ask just before you step back into the room.
“Six weeks before sex, right?”
You’re joking, but Joe hears the serious confusion when the nurse asks, “Oh, have you not been talked through—”
“We have. Don’t listen to her.” Joe interrupts, and when he looks over his shoulder to see you shuffle back over to the bed, he catches the cheeky smile you’re trying to hide.
Before he can say anything else about how he’ll have you wait twelve weeks if you keep bringing it up, he catches your eyes flash in pain, just from your small shuffling steps, and he’s up in an instant. Pushes himself from your bed and turns to place both hands under your arms to make sure you’re safe and supported.
You hold onto him like a lifeline and pause in place for a moment.
God, the labour is done. Can you have a single second without any uncomfortable sharp pulling down there? Jesus.
You don’t see how Joe and the nurse share a look over your shoulder. The nurse is smiling at him, and Joe gives her a tired shake of his head as he rolls his eyes, quietly communicating that the girl he’s chosen to have a baby with is an actual menace.
“Maybe eight weeks?” Joe carefully jokes, hoping it’ll get you to laugh and forget about how sore you’re feeling for a second. Instead you just sigh and go, “Yea, maybe.”
You’re helped back into bed by four hands, shuffle slowly into position and leave enough room for Joe to join you.
You’re sore and tired and in a weird emotional state, and it’s simply much nicer to be all of those things squeezed tightly up against him. Joe knows to curl into you with his whole body and lays an arm over your pillow for you to place your head on. It gives the both of you the perfect view of your baby.
Your baby.
You feel a flash of want for her. To have her in your arms. Against your chest. To hold and hug and keep her close. But she’s asleep and you’re not quite sure what to do when she wakes up. What if she cries and you can’t get her to stop? This is safer.
You can both just watch her.
“I’ll be back in thirty minutes,” the nurse says after checking a file, and you ask, “To help me feed her?”
The nurse smiles, says, “Yea sure, that too.” and leaves.
You make a funny face, confused, and look at Joe like you think she was being rude.
“To check on you.” Joe softly says, and your face drops immediately.
“Oh. Yea. But I feel fine, now.” your focus is barely on yourself. There’s this whole other brand new human to be worried about.
“Hmm. Okay. Think you can sneak a little more sleep before she’s back?”
“Probably not.” you say, but Joe sees how you close your eyes anyway. Feels how you carefully move your hips back a little to feel more of Joe against your body. Feels how you grab onto his arm and firmly press it into your stomach that’s still big and round, but all soft and squishy now.
“Can you try?” Joe whispers, lips touching the shell of your ear.
“Will you watch her?” you’re already sinking away. Joe’s body heat is pulling you under quicker than he’d anticipated.
“Of course I will,” Joe says, but lies, and watches you for a moment instead. You’re his priority. Thinks it’s silly how you wouldn’t accept that if he told you. “I’ll watch her.” he confirms, not lying then, because he’s talking to his daughter as he says it.
Joe watches you until he feels you drop of the deep end. Feels you relax in a way he’s not felt you relax in ages.
After a while Joe repeats, “I’ll watch her.” in a barely-there whisper before he places a barely-there kiss against your cheek as you sleep.
His gaze moves back to the small baby girl in the room, and Joe’s eyes immediately well up again.
It’s stupid how even just the sight of her feels new and unexpected again. Like he’s seeing her for the first time once more.
And he simply finds that, once again, it’s so easy to stare.
Finds he can’t stop staring.
“Yea, I’ll keep an eye,” Joe whispers to himself. Thumbs another tear from his inner corner before it can run down his face and bother you.
“I’ll keep an eye.”
---
The Taglisted
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mehiwilldoitlater · 2 days
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*throws a mooncake into your inbox* part 2 of the erlang x reader fic plsssss. Let our boy pine and long from the distance. Yuan Fen just KNOWS he caught feeling and is giving him the stink eyes. Maybe reader is unaware? up to you. LOVE YOUR WRITING AND HAVE A WONDERFUL DAYYY
((mooncake?....mooncake...this gave me setting...thank you!))
The mid-autumn festival, or the festival of the moon. You heard it back in your world, but you never thought that one day you would actually participate. After all, you showed some curiosity when you heard from the other monkeys that in the nearest city the humans were preparing everything for the festival, and it was natural for you to ask to be able to attend it.
What you and your companions didn't know was that you weren't the only not-so-human beings that were ready to take a free night for the Moon festival.
"And WHAT are you two doing here?!"
Yuán Fèn almost snarled at the two deities that looked so normal under their own spell and some normal robes. In front of you, Erlang Shen, THAT Erlang, and the third Lotus prince, Nezha, were just in that moment entering the city walls.
Even if under a glamour spell that made him look like a human, Yuán Fèn still held that small trait that didn't allora his tail to disappear, and it was currently moving like a snake around his torso.
"We have all the rights in the world to attend this celebration!" Said the younger one, snarling like your friend and showing some clean in his eyes.
"Of every city, this one?!"
"Yes! Something to say about it?!"
And while the two were arguing, you couldn't look straight in the eyes of the older deity. You remembered quite well what happened to that mountain in that illusion, and... well, it made you feel quite awkward since that was the last time you saw him. You played with the hem of your sleeve, looking from time to time at the man, maybe searching for a good way to green him.
"You look stunning, y/n."
Instead, Erlang couldn't take his eyes off you. Your hangu was of a sweet shade of blues and lilac; flowers aforned your hair and the silks, making you the most beautiful thing that his eyes ever laid on. But you could have been beautiful in everything to him.
Chang'e needed to be careful, because now she had a rival that night.
"oh!" You scratched your head from embarrassment, a little more nervous than before. "The dress?... it's just an old thing that a friend had borrowed me."
"The third sister?" He said it with a genuine but funny tone.
"Yeah! She said that I need to start tò Look like a lady from now on!"
"She has good taste."
He kept his tongue by making remarks about her being a Yaoguai. After all, you befriended many of them. On your behalf, you laughed a little, feeling the nervousness finally calm down. Then, you remembered that Yuán Fèn and that Sassu child were nearing a handfight, and you had an idea.
"Since we're all together, why don't we go as a group? Tò know each other better!" The looks of disbelief on their faces were priceless. "I mean, we should start to act as allies now that the time has changed. And it would be fun!"
Yuán Fèn wanted to say something. I saw your hopeful face. You really, really wanted to attend the festival without troubles, and if going with Erlang and Nezha was an option for that, then it was worth it!
"All right, if they're not against it."  Which he hopes they were.
Well, they weren't; they both agreed on the spot, and so here you all were, walking in the street, full of people, ready to start the celebrations with two deities, really important ones too, and the One that had hereditated all of Sun Wukong powers—a normal group.
What really caught your attention was the decoration around yourself: everywhere someone had hanged a lantern, on their house, on the streets, between the house and palaces. Children were running around, holding small lanterns made of carved melons, where the adults had cut shapes in the zest, then putted a candle inside. 
Music could be Heard from the taverns, in the streets, around some temples, and everyone seems busy to have a good time. Your eyes couldn't concentrate on one spot, so immediately they were caught by something else, and you were so distracted that even Yuán Fèn needed to pull you a little. And of it wasn't him; a certain child was now fully invested in the area sourranding him.
"There there! I bet they sell flying lanterns! Bián huá, led me some money so we can take a few for later!"
"Why should I? Firstly, my name is Y/n, and secondly, you have to ask for them!"
"Hey! Have you forgotten who I am? I can turn you to-"
"To nothing. Because if a certain emperor find out you both sneak here, you're in big trouble!"
It was funny seeing Nezha act like a brat with someone that didn't care about his status, and of course it needed to be you.
While he kept complaining or tugging at your sleeves to get your attention on something, a small crowd got your attention. The music and the dances were blasting; a small group of musicians was playing an old song about Houyi and Chang'e, girls were launching handkerchiefs around, and boys were trying to catch them as fast as they could.
"Hey! Over there! What are they doing? What kind of dance is that?"
"That? It's a matchmaking dance." Said nonchalantly Yuán Fèn. "Of the boy can give back the handkerchief to the girl who has tossed, they may get married in the future."
"Oooh, it's cute!" You got closer to the crowd and, without even noticing, a few old ladies, maybe caught in a joyful spirit, had already caught you and dragged you inside.
"Little help here?!" You tried to call for your friend, but he was stopped by the young one.
"Just throw the thingy! Who's going to pick it up anyway?!" He laughed about it, while you just stuck your tongue out at him.
Once you did what they told you, you were free and without your handkerchief.
"Wow, those ladies are crazy about it!"
"They just like seeing young ladies march with young men, even strange things like you!"
"Careful, or I'll ruin your makeup, boy..." The both of you were now making faces at each other, to the dismay of Erlang and the joy of Yuán Fèn.
"so! What now?"
"We should go and pay and offer to the moon goddess; it's her festival after all."
"Allright! Let's move!"
While you, Yuán Fèn, and Nezha started moving, you hadn't noticed a Swift of Wind between the crowd. When you turned around, Erlang was adjusting his robe and hair.
"Aren't you coming?"
"Ah yes. Sorry, I was just...thinking."
He deliberately avoided the monkey glare; the only one who knew that had noticed maybe.
///
After you all had offered the incense, prayed for some good fortune, and paid respect to the goddess, you all decided that it was the right moment to stop and enjoy some dinner.
"Why don't we stop here? It seems nice!"
"I wouldn't mind some crabs."
"I'm starving!"
If it wasn't just for the small details that the place was crowded like nowhere, it would have taken hours to eat something! And you still wanted to participate in other events! Especially when the lanterna would have been left free in the sky to fly! You bought a few without Nezha knowing—a small surprise for him. Your mouth started tò watering while you saw all of those plates full of food and delicacy moving between table to table, and you were really beginning to think that losing at least the lion dance could not be such a terrible idea.
Until you noticed the monkey and the boy eyes fixed on the door that seemed to lead to the kitchen. There, your thoughts start tò running.
"You really shouldn't do that!"
"They won't notice!" Said Nezha, ready already to sneak in.
"We'll leave a few dollars, so it won't be a real robbery. What do you think?" Yuán Fèn winked at you. Just before taking the form of One of the waiters was alongside Nezha, making his way towards the kitchen. You blushed a little, still a little uncostimed by his new-found cockiness that accompanying tò Bajie was provoked by his mind now clear about his love towards you.
"Yuán fèn or Sun Wukong, they won't change. Troublemakers Deep in Their Heart." Erlang sighed, observing the scene.
"I like him this way... He may be a troublemaker, but he got a big heart."
The deity couldn't shake that pounty feeling in his heart when he saw with what gaze you were looking at the monkey. Deep, really Deep, he wished that you could have spared those dreamy eyes for himself. Such a selfish desire, but he was selfish inside...
"I never got the chance to thank you properly for what you've done for me back there." You started again to play with your sleeve, looking at your feet with some shyness that, in his eyes, made you more precious than ever.
"You don't have to. It was my duty to do so."
"I know, but...thank you...for everything."
And there it was again—that damn smile. That smiled so full of kindness and life that virtually you could possess, one smile that could break everyone's heart, especially Erlang's. He looked at you fondly and started to search for something in his robe.
"Y/n, please, I would."
The screaming of the owner echoed in the crowd. Laughs and screams started, and two troublemakers were running out from the restaurant, holding some food and wine.
"THEY'RE NOT THAT GENEROUS!"
///
You were able to get away from the owner fast enough, and, with your spoiler, you were able to find a nice spot. Next to the river, the boat, all of them decorated with more lanterns, seemed like a celestial vessel with reflections on the water. The light played on the surface, the colors shone like the aurora, and the moon, now high in the sky, set herself to be admired by mortals, Yaoguais, and celestials on that peaceful night.
Everything was just nice, with some food, wine, and good friends. 
After a while, you and Nezha standard up and get closer to the river bank to spot more interesting lanterns, leaving Yuán Fèn and Erlang alone and together.
The night was peaceful, but between the two of them, the tension seemed palpable, and the brother of them wanted to open their mouth to speak up. Erlang proved no animosity towards the monkey; he had made sure of that, but it wasn't like he liked him anyway. But he was sure that that night, the monkey really didn't enjoy his presence at all.
"If you have something to say, then talk. Don't ruin the night with this."
"Then give me the handkerchief."
Erlang stopped tò eating his crabs. His expression seemed calm, for now.
"I can smell it from here. Hand it over."
"Are you afraid of some silly mortal tradition?"
"I'm afraid that another stunt from you will cause some damage that I REALLY don't want to fix."
Erlang was sure that Heard a well-hidden snarl from the monkey. He enarched his eyebrow, looking at him with an inch of doubt.
"I'm Sorry?"
"I could smell it... your scent that day... She was soaked in it."
"I tended to her for weeks. Is normal?"
"She told me you kissed her."
He didn't retract this time, preferring to avoid the angry eyes of the companion, while his first became White.
"...she told you?"
"She wanted to come clear to me, and so I am to you. Do not do anything that you would regret."
He chuckled, ignoring the desire of the monkey to just grab him and destroy him.
"It's a treat?"
"It is, if you'll go over the line. I want to protect her from what can hurt her, especially deities that can't keep their eyes on the ground? She already told me she loved me; she doesn't need confusion now."
Erlang couldn't hold a smile. He always loved some good challenges, but you weren't one. Or, at least, you were already being won.
Yuán Fèn stood up, readjusting his scarf and his neck.
"I won't tell you to stop your feelings; I can't do that. I just ask you to be concederate for your own well-being."
He reached his hand towards him, mimicking the gesture of handing over that small piece of silk. That monkey... he could be so cruel, even against a small and harmless tradition.
He gave it to the monkey, observing that stupid and small thing disappear in the monkey pocket. Before leaving to reach you and Nezha, the monkey stopped in his tracks. His eyes shining with a dark light, his teeth showing...
"I won't hesitate to destroy you to keep you with me...got it?"
The first thing that Erlang thought was that the Destined One and Sun Wukong looked so alike and so possessive.
When he keft, Erlang eyes kept in following him..and then you.
He now understands how It felt Houyi, something the man desired, yet he never reached.
@sun-jglim @crimsonflameproxy @everlastingmoonlightsworld @biankanoir
@miraclecherryblossomsblog @certifiedsimpinggalore @sleepingdramaqueen @cromboloni @masksandfeathers
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Since I Survived..
Pro Hero Bakugo ♡ Pro Hero Reader
Summary: Both of you are pro heroes in your prime. But after a gut-wrenching dream, Bakugo considers other plans for his life with you.
This is an alternate happy ending of 'Beside You' cause I don't want my readers to be depressed. 😭
I recommend reading that first but it can be a stand alone.
Part 1 (Sorta) 》 'Beside You'
TW: Implied deaths, Children (idk if that considered a tw but oh well)
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Bakugo's vision starts to dim as he holds you under all the rubble of the collapsed building.
Even though he couldn't save the both of you, he wants to make sure the last thing he sees is his wife angelic face.
It's a shitty way to die. The both of you impaled by a metal bar with no way of escaping and an even smaller chance of survival. Yet, but at least he had you with him.
"I couldn't imagine breathing without you, Kats.." you say in cutting breaths as you use all of your remaining strength to hold him close. Smiling weakly, knowing at least you'd go together.
"Good thing we don't have to, princess." Bakugo heaves out, saying your nickname for the last time as he presses his lips onto yours. Taking each other's last breath...
"PA!"
Bakugo wakes up in a jolt as he gets smacked in the face. Sitting up with a teary-eyed face.
He looks and finds the culprit of his stolen slumber, or savior from that horrible nightmare.
"Papa didn't want to wake up, and Mama said to smack you if you didn't." the blonde and crimson eyed little girl says as she scrambles onto the bed and into his lap.
Katsumi looks at her father's face. For a 6 year old, she is very emotionally perceptive. "Is Papa alright?" She says, reaching to touch his face.
Although the grogginess still lingers, he gives her a big and long embrace.
"I'm fine, princess. Your Pops just had a nightmare, is all." He says while giving her a rare genuine smile. Thank fuck it was a dream.
He held her for what seemed like ages, and yet she didn't mind; after all, she was still your daughter too. Her kindness is genetic.
However, it was not long after that the emotional silence was ruined.
"KATSUKI IF YOU DON'T GET YOUR ASS UP," your voice projects from the kitchen as the smell of breakfast lingers. The two blondes share a laugh before getting off the bed.
Bakugo picks Katsumi up in his arms. "Cmon, our queen is waiting." He says while heading towards the kitchen; using his upgraded nickname for you after you had Katsumi.
He never thought he'd end up here, with kids and a loving wife who hasn't gotten tired of him yet.
Even if the dream was different by the two of you not having Katsumi, his heart still warmed that at least you were the thing that didn't change in his life.
Bakugo is so deep into thought about the dream that he didn't notice he arrived at the kitchen. Guess the dream really opened his eyes about the hero work the two of you been doing.
"Kats?" You say concerned at his blank gaze and hold on Kastumi. His attention now back to reality after your voice.
"You alright, honey?" You say while grabbing Katsumi from his arm and placing her in the chair seated next to her infant brother's high chair. Babbling away like infants do.
Before you can even turn back around to him, he attacks you with a hug. You look at your daughter questionably, but she only shrugs and continues to feed her brother.
"You alright there, you big oaf? ...Kats?" You say before turning around and seeing his teary-eyed face.
"Shut up." He says quickly so he can avoid your questioning. You only sigh in defeat and wrap your arms around him, too.
"Do I at least get to know what this is about?" You say as your husband's grasp tightens.
"We should quit."
"What?" You say confused. Things are going well for the two of your careers, even being in the top 3 from time to time. Hell, he just made number 1 last year.
"We should retire our old asses and enjoy our fucking lives til we're grey and wrinkly." He says in a mumble swaying you back and forth.
"Fuck is a bad word papa."
"Katsumi," You scold the child before sighing. "I mean, I'm not opposed to it, but where's this coming from." You question the vulnerable blonder.
"Mm just had a shi- poopy butt dream," he says, trying to make his sentence child friendly, earning a giggle from his daughter and a chuckled from you. Still, you investigate further.
"About?"
"We didn't make it back from a mission. We held each other til the end, but I don't want that for us," He says quietly to avoid the childs prying ear while his grip tightens on you.
You stiffen. Dying during a mission and leaving the kids behind? That thought left a nasty taste in your tongue and an even bigger ache in your heart.
This time you hold him tighter.
"Guess I'll have to tell the commission that I won't be back from maternity leave then." You say, peppering him with kisses. He let's out a sigh of relief. Being glad that you're both on the same page.
"I think I should just leave the agency to Red then. The interns are going to give me so much crap about being old." He chuckles while kissing you back. Yet his hold on you stays.
A comfortable silence lingers for a little.
"Thank you for keeping up with my crap." He says quietly. His vulnerable insecurity of not being good enough for you showing.
"Til I'm grey and wrinkly, Kats." causing him to chuckle. You always knew how to reassure him.
"Til we're gray and wrinkly."
And with no tragic ends in sight.
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Doing this instead of the 8 assignments due tomorrow night. 😭
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somethingvicked · 1 day
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Forget me (not) pt 3
warnings: female reader, talk of memory loss, angst to fluff
You stared at Eddie, your head pounding from the sudden overload of information that just broke through the wall that had been there.
You felt the overwhelming love you had for Eddie, had had for so long. But you also remembered what he had told you, how he had pushed you aside like you were nothing, for Chrissy.
You pulled back, as if he had burned you and Eddie looked at you in panic, like a deer in the headlights.
“Easy, sweetheart, easy…” he started and you suddenly saw red.
“Don’t call me that!” you snapped and he paled. “I’m not your sweetheart any longer, don’t you remember? Because I sure do.”
But at the same time… Eddie had been at your side practically all this time. Why had he? Wasn’t he scared what Chrissy would think?
No, of course he wasn’t. Because he wanted to stay friends with you, he just didn’t want you to have feelings for him. And then you forgot them, a small voice in your head said.
Well, it worked out quite well for him, didn’t it?
You rose to your feet and Eddie quickly did the same, still looking at you like you were some unstable lunatic with a ticking bomb.
“Thank you for bringing me here,” you said, your voice tense. “It clearly worked. And so I guess you better go back to Chrissy, since I now remember everything.”
“Wait, no, Y/N, it’s not like that…”
“I’m back to my old self now, Eddie,” you growled at him. “You don’t need to protect me anymore or do your duty as a friend.”
“Sweetheart, me and Chrissy broke up!”
That made you stop dead in your tracks and you turned around. “You did?”
“Yeah,” Eddie nodded, panting as if he was in pain. “About two weeks after… your accident. She didn’t like that I spent all my time with you…”
You hadn’t thought it was possible for you to be more angry at him, but lo and behold!
“Are you saying it’s my fault she dumped you, Munson?!” you screeched, grimacing as the loud sound made your headache worse.
“No!” Eddie all but squeaked, “I… I’m trying to say that… being at your side was all I wanted. What happened… it made me realize… how much you mean to me. And I know I was an idiot, an insensitive dolt, a goddamn jerk! I hate myself for treating you that way and making you feel like you were not the most important person in my life! Always had been.”
By now he was nearly sobbing, tears brimming in his eyes. “When I heard what had happened… you have no idea… I thought you had died. And the last conversation I had with you was that I wished  you forgot everything.”
“And I did,” you said, shaking your head, still angry with him, but his tears and broken puppy eyes had made it go down a little. The fucker, even when he didn’t try he knew how to play you like a fiddle.
“Yes, you did. You didn’t remember me. I know I deserved it. To have you looking at me like I was a stranger, not being allowed to tickle you or carry you on my back… you remembering everyone else, but not me. I deserved that. But Y/N… please believe me when I say that you are the most important person in my life. When you left that day I sat and contemplated who I would miss more if I would never see them again – you or Chrissy. And… me never seeing Chrissy again, it didn’t made that much of a difference. But the thought of being without you, it made me… I felt shattered. I was going to call you, but then they called me and told me what had happened.”
You rubbed your temples. All of this… it was too much for you to handle right now.
“I… I need to go home,” you got out. “Think about all this.”
“I’ll drive you,” Eddie said, but you shook your head. “I want to be alone.”
“I don’t care,” Eddie said with a frown. “I’m not letting you walk home after regaining your memories and had such a shock. What if something happens? No, get in the van. I’ll drive you. We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to, but you’re not walking.”
A part of you wanted to smile, both at his stubbornness and with how he cared for you. But the rest of you were still so shaky after everything that you just pushed it away.
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A little while later you sat in your room, back at your desk with the photo album in front of you. Eddie had kept his promise and not talked to you the whole way home, even though he had glanced over at you at least one time every minute.
Despite having your memory back completely you felt more confused than ever.
Thankfully your mother had gone to the grocery store, thinking you were spending the day with Eddie, so you didn’t have to go through the roller coaster to tell her you were back to normal.
You weren’t sure what to do with Eddie. Remembering how he had treated you when he got together with Chrissy and his reaction when you told him how you felt about him… it made you feel heartbroken all over again but also angry.
And then… then you remembered how he had supported you and stood by you these last weeks, never quitting on you despite you not remembering anything about him, no matter how he had tried.
It felt like your head was about to explode. This was just too big and complicated for you to take on by yourself.
Usually you went to Eddie if you needed advice and talk something out but obviously that was a no go.
You didn’t want to talk to your mother either, it was enough you had to tell her your memory was back – your parents had been through hell, probably more so than you these last couple of weeks, you didn’t want to worry them even more.
After some time of contemplating you decided to call Steve. He was Eddie’s friend, he was your friend, and he knew the history between you two. He seemed like a good choice.
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Steve didn’t dawdle, he arrived less than twenty minutes after you hung up. The first thing he did when you opened the door was to give you a big hug.
“I’m so happy your memory is fully recovered,” he told you with a smile. “Although I still would’ve hoped you forgot about me being King Steve forever.”
You couldn’t help but chuckle at that as you two walked up to your room.
You and Steve sat at the floor on your bedroom, backs leaned against your bed as you told him about the moment when you remembered everything, your reaction to Eddie, and how you felt so lost on what to do now.
Steve was quiet for a moment, running a hand through his hair, clearly deep in thought.
“You know I think what he did to you was really shitty. I seriously could have beaten him up for being so insensitive,” he told you, making you snort.
“But, he did tell me the same story – that even before you crashed into the tree he was imagining his life without you and without Chrissy. It was you that he almost broke down over losing. And this whole time… please forgive me for this, Y/N, but I actually told him that perhaps he should give you some space, do something else when the time went on and you didn’t remember a single thing about him. It was slowly draining him, he… he couldn’t fall asleep without looking at old pictures of you, crying.”
You were shocked. “Really?”
“Yeah. And – let me just say I didn’t exactly agree with that either – but he didn’t even look at Chrissy after your accident. Couldn’t stand to be near her. I think… I think he felt like it was his fault, what had happened to you, because he had been with her.”
“But I didn’t want him to do this because he felt guilty!” you protested.
“That’s what I said too, but he insisted that’s not why. And you know what? I believed him.”
Steve smiled at you and patted your shoulder. “Y/N, love is not easy. Everyone keeps saying it is but it’s really a fucking mess. When I was with Nancy I spray painted the sign of the cinema, calling her a slut. All because I thought she had cheated on me. The first girl I loved and I did that to her.”
You shook your head. You remembered that very clearly. It was before you and Steve became friends but you had still heard about it from the others.
“What I’m saying is… yes, Eddie was a goddamn idiot. But he realized he was and what he did wrong. And he has tried to make it right, and he will keep trying to make it right, if you let him. So… only you can decide whether you want to forgive Eddie or not, Y/N. But… perhaps you should try and do what he did. Try imagining the rest of your life without him. Does that feel like something you would be okay with?”
Your felt your breath hitch and your stomach turn into knots. A life without Eddie? It felt like… like suddenly the same feeling from your memory loss was back. Only now it wasn’t the past you missed but the future. It was only blank.
“No,” you whispered, your voice trembling.
“Then there’s your answer,” Steve told you softly.
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Steve drove you to the trailer park and you walked up to the Munson’s trailer and knocked on the door.
Eddie opened, and you got the feeling of dejá vu from the last time you had come here. But Eddie sure looked different.
He looked as if he had cried, his hair a nest, as if he had ran his fingers through the curls multiple times, his knuckles bruised as if he had punched a wall.
“Y/N?” he wondered in surprise when he saw you.
“Hey,” you said, smiling weakly. “Look, Eddie…”
“Is this the moment where you… you’re going to tell me that you never want to see me again?” Eddie interrupted, his voice trembling, and it honestly broke your heart.
“No,” you told, reaching out a pushing a curl out of his face. “I… I’m still quite angry with you for what you did. But… it feels like this whole thing, what happened… it was some sort of lesson for both of us. A lesson for you to have me forget you. And a lesson for me, how it would feel to have no connection to you. The feeling, when I think back of how it felt, not knowing everything that has happened between us… it was horrible. I don’t want to be without you again, or ever forget you again. Not even the stupid thing you did, even though it makes me want to shake you.”
Eddie let out a gasp and then he all but squished you against him, holding you so hard you were sure you would have bruises.
“Oh, sweetheart…” he whispered, carefully kissing your temple. The bruises were healed but he remembered them all too vividly, kissing every spot where they had been.
“I’m so sorry for what I did. And for how I behaved when I started dating Chrissy. I just… I guess I got caught up with how it felt that someone popular actually wanted me. And in the back of my head I always thought you and I would have more time. I was an idiot, I know that. I will never make that mistake again.”
He inhaled before he continued: “And I’m so sorry that I never realized… that you loved me. I… I wished I had realized it sooner but I didn’t…”
You shushed him. “I know. That’s what I mean, that maybe the accident happening… it was a wake up call for both of us.”
Eddie nodded. “Yes. I’ve always loved you, sweetheart. But it’s more than that. You… you’re my person. The reason why it has never worked out with any other girl. Why I couldn’t see a future with Chrissy. Because you were the one.”
Now it was your turn to blink back tears.
Eddie suddenly pulled something from his pocket. Your eyes widened when you saw it was the dried flower from the scene of the accident.
“I found it in the van, on the passenger seat,” Eddie said. “I want you to have this and save it. As a reminder, that you will never forget me again. And as a promise from me, that I will never forget you’re the only one I want.”
You smiled, and placed the blue Forget-me-not behind your ear.
“The only one?”
“The only one,” Eddie promised, sealing it with a kiss.
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please, like, comment and reblog!
Your likes are wonderful but reblogs expand my reading circle.
@ali-r3n @quinnyficsy @animechick555 @h-ness1944 @eddie-is-a-god
@megatronmunson @melodymunson @rainybloo28
@daisy-munson @bartkevicius03 @stylesxmunson @ziggeddie @ali-in-w0nderland @up-l4te-4t-n1ght @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @duncanhillscoffeecups
@amandahobblepot @xplrnowornever
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brotherwtf · 3 days
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has anyone done this yet? Gale who makes androids for people who are lonely, usually for their pleasure, until he's commissioned to make an android named "Bucky" and can't help but fall in love with him
he made Bucky for a lovely woman, one who smiled and said she longed for someone like her husband, a pilot whom she lost, wanted someone she could grow old with
she requests someone tall and broad, charming and has an easy smile, laughs at her jokes no matter how stupid, has the ability to keep up with her when she's drinking
Gale thought this would be like every other android he's made, it definitely starts off that way, but when he has the shell made, something quite handsome, and he starts to program a personality does Gale start to notice something going wrong
Bucky talks easy, that's what his client wanted, he was brave, his hardwiring had him as a pilot, but that also meant he had the bravery to talk to Gale whenever he was working on him
Bucky would ask Gale how his day was, would offer advice if he noticed Gale's shoulders getting tense or his expression going firm, would try to make him laugh when Gale was silent for large chunks of time. It made Gale's heart bloom in a way he wasn't sure he should feel
Almost everyday Bucky found a new thing to compliment Gale on, told him he was a genius for making him, said he was really strong whenever Gale lifted his frame towards his workbench, commented on how the setting sun made Gale's hair look especially beautiful
Gale tried not to let it get to his head, this was all his programming, Gale had made him like this, but he still couldn't stop the effect it had on him
One day, Bucky asks Gale what will happen when he's fully built, and Gale has to sadly explain that he has to give Bucky to his client, he was paid to make him. This of course makes Bucky sad, he mopes for the rest of the day and doesn't talk to Gale, which makes him nervous
before Gale turns Bucky off for the evening, he asks him what's wrong, and Bucky kisses him, grabs his head clumsily and presses their lips together. Gale's shocked and he pulls away, looking at John with wide eyes
"why did you do that? Bucky, you can't do that," Gale says and Bucky's expression turns exasperated again
"isn't that what humans do when they love something? that's what I've seen, did I do something wrong?" Bucky asks and Gale can't breathe
"yes, but Bucky you can't..."
"I love you, I love you and I want to kiss you. is that wrong? Gale, is it wrong?" Bucky asks.
Gale wants to scream that it's not wrong, wants to beg Bucky to touch him, but he knows that he can't have him, knows that he has to give him away to his client, so he averts his eyes and turns Bucky off, can't look at him as he goes to bed
anyway thinking that Gale has some hella conflicted emotions bcs Buckys not backing down, keeps trying to flirt with him and tries to kiss him like Gale never turned him down, and he has to face the fact that he's also falling in love with Bucky
so when his client comes to get Bucky, he has to make a choice. She hasn't paid, so Gale can turn her down, say he's keeping Bucky, but risk never getting another client again, or he could give Bucky away and lose what he's fallen in love with.... decisions decisions
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ilys00ga · 3 days
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𝙔𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙙, 𝙄'𝙢 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙧
(PROLOGUE) → FIRST CHAPTER
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: ̗̀➛ synopsis: you're in the wind, I'm in the water.. somebody's son, somebody's daughter..
OR: Sirens and humans were made to be at war with one another. To sear their deadly bond, not with love, not with wealth, not with rules and restrictions... but with flowing blood and torn flesh. That's what history says. That's what's bound to be.
: ̗̀➛ pair: yoongi x f reader/oc.
: ̗̀➛ tags: mute human!yoongi, half siren half human!reader, reader is obsessed (almost yandere-ish (we'll see as the story progresses)), forbidden love and relationships, middle ages/old times era theme, supernatural, slow burn, strangers to lovers (?), fluff, angst, bloody or dark themes. more tags could be added eventually.
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: ̗̀➛ note: hi :) finally decided to post this! first off, I know first-person povs are somewhat "controversial" in the fanfic community, BUT please give this one a read, and I hope you will have a fun ride! second, I know this prologue is longer than it should be (?) but I had a certain idea in mind, so, who cares if it was long af, right? enjoy! I hope u like it.
★ MASTERLIST.
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PART ONE:
It was in the middle of a bright, warm spring day that I found the moon reading on a boat.
That day, I took the risk and sneaked Aftreen—my well-trusted and loyal maid—up to my favorite spot.
The first whispers of the fresh air brushed against our skins, and I smiled at the lovely memories it brought along with it.
And oh, how I missed those precious, precious old days.
We hid behind a large, isolated sea stack perched somewhere close to the coast line, but still far enough from the danger that a small distance could bring to the two of us.
“This is as far as we can go. Hurry up, Afreen.” I warned and watched as Afreen was comfortable in climbing the huge rock, eager to get a better view of the island awaiting beyond it.
“Woah, Your highness…” She gasped, a smile stretching her mouth. “Is that it, you highness? your village?”
I hummed in response, my mind elsewhere. She was marveling at the sight of the golden sand and the life of the village sitting at the edge of the island, while my eyes were stuck on the sight of him.
He with his arms crossed to his chest and his eyes fixed on what seemed to be a book he had on his lap, floating on a boat behind the huge rock. His hair dark and grown, its tips brushing against his broad shoulders as it danced with the gentle wind.
Calm, graceful, pale. I blinked. He glowed under the basking sunlight. So lost in his book that he didn't pay attention to anything else around himself—much less being in the presence of a siren princess and her siren maid propped on a huge rock not so far away from where he sat.
I always loved watching the moon, and I always envied the lucky stars to be in the presence of such a creation crowning the night sky. I wasn’t aware that the heavens were kind enough to put one wandering the earth for me to find.
“Afreen, get down.” I ordered, my voice hushed and stern.
Her lower lip jutted out in a slight pout, but she wordlessly obeyed and jumped off of her spot at the top of the stack and into the water daintily.
The dive made an audible splash echo through the air around us. I swiftly hid myself behind the rock right as the human's head jerked up, a soft gasp slipped me unconsciously.
Afreen didn't emerge again. I took the chance to peek over the stack and steal another glimpse of the stranger.
He wasn't reading anymore. He moved to handle the sail of his boat instead. The thought of him leaving spread a sour feeling in my chest.
The siren inside of me growled, urging me to swim to that boat myself, but I fought against it. I knew better than that. I wasn't supposed to be out there in the first place.
Yet, I could feel it. And I couldn't blame her on it. He looked so inviting to her. She was eager to see how his skin would look underwater, if I were to yank and take him deep, deep into the ocean with me. How he would feel against my skin if I were to trace his features with my thumb and caress his hair with my palms. How his face would twist if I were to card my fingers into his dark locks and pull them hard, or if I were to hold on his jaw in a tight grip and watch him writhe before me, searching to reach the surface and breathe some air into his weak, human lungs before his soul is put to rest between my arms. How my piercing fangs would feel if I were to—
I felt a persistent tug at my tail. Then, it was Afreen who popped up from underneath the water beside me.
“Your highness, what's taking you so long?” She asked.
I quickly brushed her curiosity off with a shake of my head, then led her deep into the saltwater again.
Every time I met the other moon after that, I'd talk to her about him. About how he looked more entrancing than any human I have ever laid my eyes on. About how he was more delicate and beautiful than she could ever, ever be.
About how I wish I could see him again, even for one, only and last time..
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PART TWO:
A dark night sky, a tilted crescent and a pitch black ocean. Darkness cradled the four boats as they glided their way across the ocean, but their lanterns guided them towards their destination.
On each boat were three ruthless and tired sailors. Their journey almost reached its end as they approached Dogon Island.
A small boy that looked to be in his twelfth or thirteenth summer accompanied his father—after much begging pouts and determined promises—on this particular one.
While the adults were lounging on their vessels, the kid was leaning over the gunwale, watching his own reflection in the water with an intense gaze. His eyes soon perched up when he noticed a faint ripple in the image. He turned his head to glance at his father, only to find him sipping on rum, completely unaware. He darted his eyes towards the other two sailors still lounging on the other side of the boat, just as unaware as the previous one, then back to his own reflection again.
Some moments passed like that. The waves calm and steady, the wind gentle and crisp. Until all four boats started rocking from side to side in gentle motions. As if the ocean was soothing them onto the unpreventable.
The father put his rum down, a faint smile adorning his face for a brief moment, before it melted into a neutral frown as he stood up tall.
Everyone was up on their feet. Everyone looked around, alert. All except for the kid, who's hands were still holding onto the gunwale before him.
The rocking halted. A pair of hands gripped the wood right in front of the young boy. Then, it was a dark pair of eyes that locked with his youthful ones.
A soft gasp slipped his mouth at the angelic creature that came face to face with him, her wet skin bathed in the lantern lights.
He waited for her to move, like his father had told him she would, but she didn't. She just ogled back at him, her eyes carrying a baggage his young brain was unable to recognize.
More sirens rose and clung around the four boats. Each more breathtaking than the ones before.
Their lips parted as they hummed their songs to the men above the water, beckoning them closer and closer, right into their embraces.
The father held his son's shoulders and led him to the center of the vessel, his eyes not once leaving the siren at their boat. Then, he slowly approached her, bringing one knee down in front of her in complete devotion.
Without hesitation, her arms stretched out to cup the man's face in her hands. Closer and closer, she leaned her upper body forward, their noses almost nuzzled together. A wicked, yet faint smile appeared on her face when she felt the sailor's arms wrapping around her in response, pulling her towards the male.
Her deadly song was cut off with a loud, piercing shriek that erupted from her throat instead. The sailor pushed his dagger deeper and deeper into her writhing back.
Several shrieks and shouts erupted all over the area within an instant. The boats quivered violently. The small boy screamed and stumbled to the bottom of the vessel, trying desperately to hold onto something and not fall right into the freezing, salty water.
Hungry humans stabbed sharp tools into inhuman flesh. Angry sirens fought back in desperation after their feast attempt had come to be a dooming failure. And as history said and told, hundreds and millions of times all across the stars, siren blood had, once again, covered the wood and flowed into the ocean.
Victorious grins split the sailors’ faces as they pulled the small pieces of beeswax out of their ears. The father raised his rum flask in the air, keeping a firm grip on his son's shoulder as he stood next to him, and bellowed to the open ocean: “To the kingdom!”
The other men seared the victory in loud and proud roars, with blood dripping from their lethal knives as they rose them to the air, and lifeless sirens gathered on each of the four boats.
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storiesfromafan · 2 days
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Rumours - Buck x Reader
A/N: okay, this is my first attempt at good old Gale 'Buck' Cleven, so please be nice 😅 And I am sorry in advance if its not that good haha.
Warnings: angst, possible grammer and spelling mistakes
Prompt: “You think I wanted this to happen? You think I, of all people, wanted to fall in love with you”
Tag list: @strayrockette
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When you signed up to be a nurse during the war, you had been scared of what you would see. And see you did. Many times you questioned why you did it. But meeting both Buck and Bucky, you understood why. They were funny and sweet guys. Buck the more level headed one, while Bucky was a wild card. You never know what he would do. You did what you did for them, and men like them. They needed someone that was like home while doing what they did and through this war.
They took you into their circle. Making it hard to say no to their company, which you were grateful for after a long day after being on stand by, as those injured came in for treatment. The hurt and broken men you saw, it was heartbreaking and soul crushing. Yet you did your job. Helping Doctors and tending to those in recovery.
Over time you found yourself having a silly crush on Major Cleven. And when it turned to something more – love – you thought yourself foolish. He had a sweetheart back home, waiting for him patiently. So you put those feelings away, in a box which you locked and hid the key.
Unfortunately, a few of the other nurses, ones who you think fancied Bucky more than Buck, had it out for you. For rumours started to make the rounds about you and your affections. The way eyes would watch you as you entered a room. Silence falling between those that had clearly been conversing before your arrival. And then when you heard what they were saying, it hurt. It hurt because these people, whom you thought highly of, had tarnished your reputation.
“She's trying to steal another woman’s man, how shameless".
“I heard she's thrown herself at Major Cleven and Major Egan. It's why she's always with them".
“I always thought she had no morals. She’s always too friendly with the Doctors".
That was just some of the stuff you'd heard. So you took to distancing yourself from everyone. Only being present during your shifts, meetings or at meals. Otherwise you were in your quarters, walking around the base or going into town. It was lonely being separate from everyone. But you didn’t want to stir any new gossip.
Currently you were taking a walk around the base, enjoying the nice weather. You had been over worked the last few days, having a moment like this was just what you needed. In the distance you could hear the air crafts being worked on. But other then that, it was quiet. A contrast to back home and where you lived.
If only your peace was to last. Coming up behind you, as you were looking off into the vast open area and the blue sky, was Buck. He looked worried as he studied you. It felt like forever since he had spoken to you. He was concerned about you and how you were taking the rumours going around base. Ones which he and Bucky had been working to clear up.
You heard the rustle of grass from moving feet. But you remained where you were, waiting to know who it was. You had a fifty-fifty chance on knowing who it was, though you hoped it was Bucky.
“Hey" came Buck's soft voice. And squashing your hopes on Major Egan.
“Hi" you replied, still not turning around.
There was a moment of silence between you both. You hoping he wasn’t here to talk about what people were saying. While Buck was trying to think of how to say what he was thinking. He wanted you to know he didn't believe what was being said, that he knew you were a nice and good woman who didn't deserve this slander.
“Look, about what I've heard” Buck began, making you stiffen. “I don't believe what anyone has been saying, you know that right? You're not that kind of woman".
You nodded your head slowly. “W-what have you heard?” You asked, not entirely wanting to hear his answer.
Placing his hands on his hips, Buck looked down, unsure if he should answer your question. “Let's just say what I heard, I didn't like. And both myself and Bucky have been doing our best to shut it all down".
That was when you turned around, a sad but thankful smile on your face. Seeing your face and how worn out you look, it pulled at Buck's heartstrings. He could see you were tired, but that was due to the busy last few days. But also he could see the toll how this whole rumour thing was taking on you. When you distanced yourself, it broke his and Bucky's hearts.
They had come to enjoy your company, and your spirit. The three of you always finding something to talk about or laugh at, though it was usually at Bucky's antics. He never understood how women could be so catty. But in some cases, men are just as bad.
“Everything will be alright" Buck said, looking you in the eye. “Give it a few days and it should start to go back to how it was...”
You frowned. “I'm afraid the damage is done Buck. Even if people aren't saying it, they'll be thinking it. I'll be surprised if I don't get pulled in for a meeting over it...”
“Bucky and I will stand up for you".
“That might not be a good idea. It may only make it worse" your voice weary, eyes falling to the ground.
“But none of its true, right?” He questioned, hoping he sounded worried and not accusing.
You should have said no right away, though it might have given him the wrong idea. But the prolonged silence didn't help either. You avoided his eyes as Buck tried to meet them. You turned away from him and wrapped your arms around yourself.
“(Y/N), none of its true...?” Buck repeated himself, now with worry.
You sighed. “No...except for one thing...”
Buck moved closer to you. “What is true? You have to tell me so I, Bucky and I can help".
Thinking he was going to place a hand on your shoulder, you flinched, taking a few steps back. “I-it's embarrassing...and childish...”
Buck remained silent, urging you with his eyes to go on.
You sighed. “I-it's my feelings...for you" you ended on a whisper.
But Buck still heard it. He had heard how some women had gossiped about you being in love with him. And he had found it ridiculous. You were friends, that was it. So he had thought. But now, from your admission, those women had been right. Which didn't help the unease he was feeling over it all. He felt angry that they had spread your true feelings. Feelings you had kept to yourself, never acting on. Unlike some women he had seen. They were more shameless then you.
“I see...” he stated, voice calm and gentle.
“Yes...now you know how silly I am" you started, feeling tears rise in your eyes. “How silly I am to be in love with you. When I know I shouldn't".
“It's alright" Buck said reassuringly. “It happens...”
Those words hurt, like a slap to the face. Like he was trying to play it off, or sweep it under a rug. Like it didn't matter. Well it didn't, but some kind of assurance would have been nice. But in stead, Buck was keeping you at arms length over it. And it sparked different emotions in you; anger, frustration, hurt and sadness.
“You think I wanted this to happen? You think I, of all people, wanted to fall in love with you” you said with a strained voice. Tears in your eyes, which you were managing to hold back for now.
The look on Buck's face was like pity, how his eyes looked guilty and in despair. “(Y/N)...” his voice soft and weary.
“No Buck, don't" you held up a hand. “I don’t, can't hear it". A tear escaped and ran down your cheek. “I don't want to hear your kind words, as you let me down...I know you have Marge. And I shouldn't have let myself get carried away with being around you and Bucky. But you were both nice to me, the company that I needed. Yet I let my feelings get away from me...”
You dropped your hand, your shoulders slouching slightly as you looked down. Unable to face the gorgeous Major who'd stolen your heart. From the dashing smile, to his warm heart dancing with Meatball, and everything in between. Major Gale Cleven was the man of your dreams, but he belonged to another. A woman that Buck spoke fondly of on the nights when you had to bunker down as bombs went off near by. A woman that made you feel less than in just about every way, except being a nurse during the war.
“Marge is a lucky woman...” you stated with a small laugh. “You're lucky to have a woman like her waiting for you back home...no doubt you'll both be happy" you voice dropping at the end.
It was silent after that. You having said your piece, something that shouldn’t have been aired out, if it wasn’t for the other nurses. Buck was quiet because he was processing your words. Which struck a cord in him. And dare he say that he felt for you. Over this time together, bonded in the worst way, he had grown closer to you. He sort out your company and spirit, especially after returning from a mission that was tough. He revelled in your sunshine. Seeing you like this hurt his heart.
Neither knew what to say after all that. Buck had opened his mouth and closed it a few times. Hoping when he would go to speak the words would come to him, but there was nothing. He should have agreed with you, and said he appreciated your affections. But he couldn't. Because a small part of him liked this, and wanted it from you. And even a part of him at one point had entertained the idea of you.
But he let it be just that, a thought. He had a girl back home waiting, a sweet thing who wrote him letters and cared. Could he really lose that? Or juggle both? No, he wasn't that kind of guy. Yet Buck had feelings for you, that weren't entirely friendly.
“F-forget this ever happened Buck...” you said softly, so softly that Buck wondered if you spoke at all.
And with that, you took your leave. Heading back to your room. Back to solitude and your thoughts. It wasn't great, but its all you had till either people stopped being asses. Or the war was over. Which ever happened first.
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flaggermuser · 2 days
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Pour Some Sugar
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1,334 words || AU, Bakerverse timeline, Thinly Veiled Threat, Patriot is her own warning, Baking, Fluff, Sex Mentioned, Patriot/The Deep, Patriot & Reader, Homelander/Reader, Homelander/Baker ||
A little gift for @hom3landr & her Baker - this fits in with her Bakerverse.
Border by Saradika
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“Well, don’t you smell sweeter than brown sugar.”
You still the second you hear that distinctive voice, quaking as you slowly begin to turn around, coming face to face with her.
Patriot.
Long blonde tresses cascade over her shoulders, a wolfish grin on her cherry red lips and a fierce look in her captivating blue eyes; she’s the last woman in the world you’d want to be alone with. Homelander hasn’t held back his feelings about the Seven’s newest addition.
“Can I help you?” You ask, trying to stand your ground but shrinking when she steps closer.
“You can. Homelander raves about your baking; I’ve even had a chance to taste your pastries. They were utterly divine, to die for.”
The way her eyes run over you - you’re not sure if she’s here for any other reason than to eat you alive. Either way, you’re terrified of her and, more specifically, her intentions.
“I’m glad you liked them,” your voice shakes, not fully believing the sincerity of the compliment.
“Convinced me that you’d be the perfect person to help me with this little task,” she steps closer.
“You see, I have this ‘family recipe’ from my ‘grandma’,” she says with air quotes. “It’s for sugar cookies, and I want to make them for my Sugar Cookie, but I’m having a problem getting them right.”
Sugar Cookie - her pet name for The Deep.
Another thing Homelander has been incredibly vocal to you about. At Vought Tower, they’ve been very open about their relationship, and from what you’ve heard, it won’t be long until it’s made public, with Vought’s marketing team has been working on the ‘exclusive’.
You notice she starts pouting, and suddenly, you become aware that you’ve not said anything for a while. Whether it’s from fear or because your mind has wandered, you don’t know.
“You will help me, won’t you? It’ll mean so much to him. And I’m sure Prince Charming would be happy to hear that you’ve been so accommodating.”
You nod despite your inner terror, nervously taking the recipe from her hand and reading it carefully. It’s an old recipe from the late 1950s or early 1960s, a period of baking you’re not fluent in, but you’re not a novice either. Yet there’s something about it that bothers you.
It’s her grandma’s recipe? But she was born in a lab?
“It should be easy to make; I can have them ready for you by-”
“Ah, ah, ah.” She waggles a finger in your face. “You’re not making them for me; you’re helping me make them. I want him to know I made them for him especially.”
The idea of spending the afternoon helping her bake in your kitchen fills you with nothing but pure dread. This is your safe space, a little paradise where you make delicious baked goods for Homelander. She tilts her head, those unhinged eyes tinged with curiosity.
“How do you feel about flying?”
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Patriot’s penthouse is imposing.
The dark green walls and hardwood floors are complimented by tasteful furniture, the exact opposite of what you expected. Despite her earlier question about flying, she didn’t carry you here; you’d been very forthcoming with your fear.
And she’d just… accepted it.
She was more than happy to let you make your own way to Vought Tower, which further exacerbated the unsettling feeling currently taking up residency in your gut.
“There you are! I almost thought you wouldn’t make it.”
She appears almost from nowhere, no longer dressed in her suit but in civilian clothes: checkered pyjama bottoms, a Deep Thought with The Deep tank top, and no bra.
She’s very well endowed.
“Follow me; I’ll show you the kitchen.”
Her kitchen is lavish, the kind of kitchen you’ve dreamed about, fitted with the latest appliances. It would be perfect for opening a bakery, but you know everything here costs more than what you make in a year.
“Don’t be shy,” she coos gently, carefully grabbing your arm and tugging you closer. “You can stand next to me. I don’t bite, well, I won’t bite you.”
She gives you a toothy grin - flashing her teeth nearly threateningly.
All the ingredients are already laid out, and you spy a bin brimming with burnt and malformed cookies. At least she wasn’t lying about her motives to get you here.
“Now, how do we proceed?”
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Baking with Patriot has been an eye-opening experience.
You’ve gone from terrified to cordial, something dancing along the border of friendly. Clearly, there is more to Patriot than meets the eye and some vulnerability lingering just below the surface, but that has been kept out of your reach.
“They are perfect!” She squeals, pulling the cookies out of the oven.
You hover behind her, directing her towards the kitchen island and, more importantly, the cooling rack. 
“They’ll need to cool for a little while,” you say, doing your best to hang back and watch while she carefully moves the baking paper from the tray to the rack.
She’s giddy with excitement and very pleased with her work, and her reaction makes your chest swell with pride. You’ve never considered teaching someone else to bake, but from what you’ve seen today, it might be an avenue worth exploring. 
“While they cool, we can start making the-”
You stop midsentence when you see Homelander saunter into the kitchen, his eyes shifting between you and Patriot. He must have smelt the baking or you and come to investigate. He stands there, hands behind his back and a slight hint of disappointment in his eyes.
“I didn’t know you were going to be in the tower today,” he nearly huffs. “I thought you’d give me a heads up.”
You swallow, preparing your answer, only for Patriot to interject before you begin.
“She didn’t know she was going to be here either,” she rolls her eyes. “I needed some help baking, and seeing as you’re constantly raving about her, I thought I’d ask for expert help.”
‘Expert help’ - that makes you stand straight and proud, still avoiding Homelander’s gaze.
She scoffs, “Drop the betrayed act. She would have told you she was coming but probably didn’t want to worry you. After all, she’s been spending the afternoon with this ‘unhinged, big-titted, airheaded bitch.’”
Now that makes Homelander falter and makes you cringe - it’s probably one of the kinder things he’s called her.
“Look,” she continues, turning her body and looking between you and Homelander. “Once she’s finished here, I’m sure she’ll be happy to spend the evening with you.”
Homelander nods, shooting you a look of concern just as he leaves, glancing at you cautiously while he leaves. He obviously came here not only out of disappointment but also of worry for your safety.
“Now, you were talking about making icing.”
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Warily, you enter Homelander’s penthouse with a box full of iced sugar cookies as a peace offering.
You’d usually send him a message when you were heading to the tower, but you’d been so preoccupied with your fear that Patriot was luring you into a dangerous situation that the notion had bypassed you completely. Immediately, you’re pulled into a tight hug, the box hitting the ground.
“I was so worried about you,” Homelander mumbles into your hair. “What possessed you to help her?”
“She came by my apartment and asked… nicely. I was apprehensive about baking with her in my kitchen because that’s where I bake for you.”
He releases you from the hug, only to take your face in his hands and look deep into your eyes. “Just… next time, please let me know. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
A kiss on your forehead has you closing your eyes and smiling. His protectiveness warms your heart, and it’s one of the many reasons why you love Homelander.
The little heartfelt moment, however, is ruined by the sounds of animalistic sex coming through the shared wall of Homelander’s penthouse, making you both cringe.
“He liked the cookies then.”
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*shaking cup* freebie? Freebie for the poor? (Your writing is great and I hope you're doing okay :))
"He saved my life" was the magic sentence. Ordinarily, Erik might have taken it personally having a human pull a shot gun on him but- context mattered.
Your elderly grandfather had no way of knowing WHY he was with you. Or how he knew you. Not until you explained what happened. Still. It took... restraint.
It was... curious though. Seeing this part of your life. The fear and the pride on their faces when they hugged you to them- relieved to see you alive still. "Come on son," your grandfather said. "We'll load the car. Let the girls get supper on the table." And he followed- not sure what else to do.
"Be nice," you call.
"I'm always nice," your Grandfather called back, "it's the General you gotta worry about."
Erik smiled just a little as the old man popped your trunk open and shook his head at the chaos, "You'd think she lives in here, good grief."
"She does, for the most part," Erik snorted, "long hours. And she never knows what she's going to need."
Paul shook his head and hefted a box into place, "You have questions, don't you, son?"
Erik regarded him for a moment. There was a tense moment in the beginning. But... after that, he'd been treated like a friend. Like you'd just dragged any other misfit home. "Why does she do this?" he asked.
The other man adjusted his glasses and glanced towards the door. Erik can see him weighing what to say. Not looking for a lie, but looking for a way to tell the truth that respects your dignity. He can feel an ugly story coming, the way he can feel violence. "Because," Paul said, shoulders sagging, "when she looks at those children, she sees a best friend she couldn't help. Because by the time she knew what happened it was too late." He pushed himself off the side of your car and went to his tool chest, pulling a drawer open and extracting a framed picture.
It's old. You're there with another little girl. He's know you anywhere- it's the eyes. And the smile. You have your arms around each other. Beaming on the beach. "Allie's parents just... disappeared her. She was scared. Afraid no one would help her. And by the time Y/N managed to track her down again- it- she was dead. Someone just beat her to death."
Erik looked at the man in front of him and tried to keep control of his temper. It's not his fault.
"Y/N was so angry," Paul said, shaking his head. "To this day, I don't think she believes in god... For years we thought she was going to kill herself trying just to numb the pain. Pills mostly. Parties. But... one day she just dropped out of sight. Just was gone. We got phone calls and emails sometimes. She sounded good. just busy. Distracted."
Paul smiled ruefully, "We figured she was on a bender and tracked her down. We were gonna haul her little ass to rehab so help us god- and we found her handing out blankets and food to homeless mutant kids, telling a bunch of bigots to- well. You've met her."
Erik chuckled, "Yes, I'm familiar with her vocabulary." He handed Paul the photo back and studied him, "They're still looking for her."
"I figured." He exhaled slowly. "I don't want to have to bury my granddaughter. But, we know- she may not believe in God but, he'll hold her in his hands anyway."
"Paul-"
"If anything happens," he said, putting the photo away, "we're going to lay her next to Allie. We learned a long time ago to hope for the best and plan for the worst. My girl can work miracles but she can't stop bullets."
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opal-owl-flight · 1 hour
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TIRED OF WAITIN’ MAKE UP YOUR DAMN MIND
YEAH ITS ALRIGHT, WE BOTH KNOW THAT YOU WANT IT, DONT YOU BE SO SHY, SHY!
OH MY GOD I LOVE STARKILLER WIDNEKD. I had this idea for Tartar manipulating 3 with words similar to the song…
more abt that below + the piece without the words :]
I wonder if 3, at that point in OE, carry a thought within them... something Tartar can use.
The sanitization is absolute mind control, yes, but it would be neat if it was preceded by a sort of hypnosis; a suggestion that tartar puts out for a victim to bite onto (not that it really matters. The forced body control happens anyway.)
Theres a yearning for the past. That much I know. But I do wonder if Tartar also suggested something else alongside that.
"Ah, the legendary captain of the Squidbeak Splatoon. He probably was the one who pulled you out of that life, hm?"
"...Yes."
"Despicable, this old coot, forcing you to fight a war that ended a century ago. Forcing you to dig up a city your nation already buried.
Making you a weapon in this...disgusting show of continued dominance."
"..."
"Dont you want to end him, right here, right now?"
"...."
"Avenge that younger self, child. Join me, and we will make sure he never hurts you again."
"..."
They look at Cuttlefish. Cod, theyre so weak, their head hurts, they are in no shape to defend themself. Neither is the old man, but...
Their hearts were burning with a feeling theyve been burying for years. A feeling thats gotten stronger and stronger over the long patrol.
This...doubt. Towards the captain they followed the ends of the earth for. Day by day, being pushed to their limits for his continued war. Wanting his approval, wanting to make him proud. Believing that theyre indeed keeping this fragile world safe.
Wanting to...keep being this hero he said they were.
But its getting harder to believe those words now. Not when that Octarian from earlier was such a sweet soul...among others theyve encountered and observed in other patrols.
Their arm burned. It was drenched in that cyan ink the telephone was oozing.
They have no reason to trust this thing that almost killed Cuttlefish and that Octarian that he was with moments before.
Still...
They feel...
Their mind is slipping.
So tired...so hurt...
"Join me. I can give you rest.
Ill bring you...to the promised land."
"...Okay."
--------
They went fully unconscious for awhile. When they "awoke" (but is still under Tartar's control), they were already fighting 8. And their body hurt even more than before.
They never shouldve trusted him.....
--------
This baiting rings familiar, doesnt it. Order did it to 4, as well. Much to 3s horror, they were the reason she took that bait. Her desire to be their perfect agent, and their desire to never be hurt or used by anyone like Cuttlefish again...
They wanted her to be strong enough so she can stay safe and live her life the way she wanted to. But their fear spoke louder than their adoration for her.
Hurt people hurt people, cycle of violence, and all that.
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munsonsmixtapes · 2 days
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requesting finnick fluff pure FLUFF maybe he’s been crushing on reader for a while now but she just doesn’t get the hints and brushes him off as a really sweet friend so the poor guys trying to make his feelings clear and lowkey get out the friend zone
cw: hurt/comfort, miscommunication
Finnick had loved you from the very beginning. The moment he laid his eyes on you, he was convinced that he was a goner. You walked into the birthday party that Peeta and Katniss were throwing for him and he was done for. You smiled at him then pulled him in for a hug as if you were old friends, had even brought him a gift.
"It's a koi fish," you explained when he had opened the box. "It's a symbol for luck, prosperity, good fortune, and of perseverance in the face of adversity."
And the way you smiled, seeming so excited to explain, he couldn't help but smile as well, yours becoming so infectious. Finnick immediately put it on and had decided that it was the best gift he had ever received, even though he never would have admitted that to you.
"And I know that district four is known for fishing and I thought it'd be a nice reminder from where you came from." He didn't want to cry, but he almost felt like he was going to. You hadn't even known him and managed to get him something so meaningful.
And so, every moment after that, he found himself following you around like a lost puppy, seeming so obvious about his feelings for you, and everyone around understood, but you didn't. At least, that's what it looked like.
And he'd never admit it, but hearing you constantly tell him that he was a really good friend was nothing but painful. How didn't you see it? How did you not understand that he was doing all of those things because he was harboring such intense feelings for you? Since when did friends give other friends roses just because?
He did everything but pour his heart out to you and apparently that hadn't been enough. Apparently if he wanted you to know how he felt, he was going to have to come out and say it. To tell you exactly how he was feeling about you no matter how much that scared you.
But what Finnick didn't know was that you felt the exact same way. You loved him just as much, maybe even more than he loved you. It was just that you didn't believe that he felt the same way, convincing yourself that he hadn't expressed your feelings just to make yourself feel better. It was easier to deal with that way.
So you'd constantly refer to him as friend, not to create boundaries, but more to remind yourself that that was what you were to him. It was easier that way as opposed to trying to create something out of nothing.
But all that came to a stop when Finnick suddenly got fed up with keeping everything to himself. The two of you had been in his kitchen, washing and drying dishes, laughing and joking and once the dish in your hand was dry, he took you into his arms, but this time was different. He was looking at you differently. There was a sudden fire there and for once, you understood. You got what he was saying without any words leaving his mouth.
"Oh, I really am an idiot, aren't I?" You asked as your forehead fell to his shoulder and he was quick to take hold of your head, his thumbs rubbing along your cheeks gently.
"No," he shook his head. "I should have said something. And I guess I am now," he chuckled. "I love you. I love you more than you'll ever know. And I know I don't have much, but I hope that you could still love me despite that."
"You know I don't care about any of that," you replied, your arms wrapping around his waist. "I just want you. That's all I need because I love you too. I have for a long time and I'm sorry it took me so long to to realize that you loved me too."
"Don't beat yourself up about it, hon. Just give me some sugar and all will be forgiven." And you did, pressing your lips to his, your fingers finding their way into his hair as the both of you poured your feelings into the kiss.
You stayed like that for a while, sharing nothing but kisses, giggles, and "I love you's" in the dim kitchen lighting as the dishes were abandoned as he carried you to his room, nothing but laughs falling from your mouth as you did so. If that was going to be what your life was like, then you decided that you were going to be happy for the rest of your days.
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musicalmoritz · 2 days
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Why does tsukasa seem to not care much about himself?
I had a hard time figuring out what you meant by this because to be honest, I don’t focus on the Yugi twins as much as some of the other characters. I still try to read analyses on them and understand them, and I have been talking a lot abt Tsukasa lately, but I haven’t rly grasped their characterization as quickly as I did with some of the others
However, after giving it some thought I believe you’re referring to scenes like these
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If this is what you mean, then the explanation is that Tsukasa simply doesn’t want to exist. He is a yorishiro and existence for them is essentially hell, just look at what Sumire went through being stuck in a time loop for 100 years. It is not a reach to assume Tsukasa went through something similar, seeing as he alludes to being trapped in a place before escaping near the start of the series when we first meet him. He reached out to Hanako for years, but Hanako never answered any of his calls. So Tsukasa wanting to be destroyed isn’t really out of any self-sacrificial nature, it would be a peaceful ending for him. He’d be able to move onto the afterlife, or otherwise accomplish any conniving goals he might have with the entity (idk as I said, not a Yugi twins expert)
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He views Hanako as selfish for wanting to hold onto the people he loves at the expense of their wellbeing. Part of Nene’e fate is to die young, it’s sad but that is the natural path her life is meant to follow. She herself even tries to come to terms with this and make peace with it, but Hanako won’t let her. He loves her, so he wants her to live a long and happy life. This is completely understandable, but it is also selfish. It is part of human nature to be selfish, and part of Hanako will always be tied to the human boy he once was. Selfishness isn’t always bad, sometimes it’s necessary. But from’s Tsukasa’s perspective, Hanako is robbing Nene of an escape
Tsukasa makes this a personal issue because Hanako treats him the same way. It would be objectively better and more natural for him to let Tsukasa go, especially if the theories abt him killing Tsukasa to free him from the entity are true. That is what Tsukasa wants, to be free, to no longer be a yorishiro. But Hanako is selfish, and he loves Tsukasa too much to grant him freedom
Now, if you’re talking about Tsukasa’s lack of self-care in regards to Hanako “hating” him, that’s a bit different
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Tsukasa seems to conceptualize relationships in a very black and white way. You either love someone, or you hate them. He’s interested mainly in how other people feel and react to things, so he’s constantly asking them how they feel about others. I don’t think he differentiates much between platonic love and romantic, it is simply “love vs. hate” to him. The two are opposites and cannot intersect
The most genuine statement I could possibly make about Tsukasa is that he loves his brother. Both versions of him, no matter how you interpret his current existence. The possessed Tsukasa we know now is the one who grew up with Amane, he spent ten years of his life with him whilst Baby Tsukasa only knew Amane for three. Ofc that was still his brother so time isn’t rly relevant to how much love/attachment Amane still holds for the original version of Tsukasa, but that doesn’t change the fact that the brother he knew for most of his life was the possessed Tsukasa. They shared holidays and birthdays together, lived together, walked to school together every single day. Through and through, they are brothers and it would be impossible for Hanako not to see him that way, even if he claims not to. It must be a complicated situation for him, on one hand he grew up with this Tsukasa but on the other he blames this Tsukasa for the old one’s disappearance
Back to how Tsukasa feels, he loves Amane fully. He does describe them as rivals, so I would say the feelings are complex on his end as well, but overall he loves his brother. He loves his brother so much that he doesn’t care if Amane hates him. And he must, he threw him across the room once when they were kids when Tsukasa was bothering him. He knew something was off when Tsukasa returned, and his attitude towards him likely reflected that throughout the 10 years they spent together. He killed him, he freezes up when he sees him, he consistently sides against him. For a character that views love in black and white terms, that sure looks a lot like hate. He recognizes that Amane is sad without him, but he also understands that Amane hates him. At least, from Tsukasa’s perspective, that’s what it looks like
But Tsukasa’s love for Amane is unconditional, he doesn’t really care if Amane hates or loves him. Baby Tsukasa says he wants Amane to be an astronaut with their parents, somewhere far away from him so Tsukasa can never make him upset. He believes Amane hates him, but he doesn’t care as long as Amane is happy. That’s all he wants, for Amane to be happy. His brother is the most important person to him, as long as Amane is happy he doesn’t care what happens to himself. Until it reaches a breaking point ofc, and Tsukasa realizes that the best situation for everyone would be for him to disappear
I’m pulling a lot of this out of my ass so I apologize if I got any information incorrect! Also just to be clear I don’t mind being asked about the Yugi twins at all, people were asking me a lot about Tsukasa yesterday so I get why the questions keep coming. Just beware that I am a self-proclaimed Not Expert lol. I do plan to look more into them whenever I start that series of character analyses tho so stay tuned for that
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nemo-in-wonderland · 3 days
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Aranea made many choices in her life.
Some easier than others. Some tougher.
But she almost never regretted those choices.
Almost.
Except for one.
She had found her peace, if only for a little while.
But that peace was *precisely* the price to pay for the choices she made.
For the power she sought.
For the Archdevil she consciously decided to love.
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SO.
I kinda made myself sad tonight while artworking (totally was not planning for this to happen, I swear, I just wanted to doodle Aranea because it has been WAY TOO LONG since I last drew her. And also, I was listening to Titanic OST, so that also might have added to the melancholy), but I was curious to explore how Aranea would look in a precise moment in time, as she leave High Forest behind.
You see, I like to imagine that, in this artwork, she is so young still, barely 70 years old, and I also like to imagine that this precise moment in time happened after Aranea had decided to excise her heart from her chest but waaaaaaaay before she decided to give in to Mephisto's stalking courtiship.
So many thoughts in her head, so many possibilities that might have been cut from her life because she choose vengeance and hurry instead of waiting and let herself heal from her grief.
But if anything, she would console herself knowing that it was the *right* choice to make, and that leaving a small fragment of her humanity behind was the testament that Zil -not Aranea- once existed into this world.
I kinda love portraying my characters and their choices and have those choices have consequences: it makes them feel more real to me.
Well, time now for me to go to sleep!
Hope you will like this!
--Nemo
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pichiru · 2 days
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The Sun Also Smiles - Chapter 1
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Chapters - [1] [2] [3]
Summary - With Mabel and Dipper's 16th birthday party on the horizon, Grunkle Stan takes to online dating to find a date for the party. But who he meets isn't who she thinks she is. Things start to get weird.
Word Count - 1,782
Pairing(s) - Stan Pines x OC
Genre(s): Romance, Comedy, Mystery
A/N: Hi everyone! This is the first fanfic I've written in about 10 years! This is my first time posting my writing on Tumblr and I'm very, very nervous. The Grunkle Stan curse has consumed me whole… I'm not sure at the moment exactly how long this fic will be but it'll be a fun ride for us all! :3 I really hope you enjoy! Please feel free to leave feedback about how you feel about the story! I looooooove reading what everyone has to say and how you feel about stuff! It makes me so happy :D
~~~~~~~
“So…”
“Uh huh…”
“What you’re saying is…”
“Uhhhh huuuhhhh.” There was smiling, almost downright giggling, in her voice.
“You…”
“Uh huh!”
“Wanna…”
“EEEEEE!!!” She screeched quietly behind her prayer positioned hands while jumping in place.
“Start your own weird earring business?”
Mabel let out a loud ear piercing scream, causing Dipper to cover his ears quickly. Even at 15, almost 16, Mabel was still so excitable and bubbly. She never lost that part of her personality and she never would if she had anything to say about it.
“Mabel, is there even a market for that kind of thing?” Dipper asked his sister after she finally calmed down enough to have a conversation.
“Dipper…” Mabel started, her tone serious. “You have no frickin idea!” She squealed, jumping some more in place.
“Okay, say for instance I believe you and this is something you’re actually gonna commit to this time, how are you gonna get the materials?” He asked, folding his arms across his chest.
“Oh you know…” She said with a wide grin, nudging her brother in his ribs with her elbow. Dipper let out a groan, unfolding his arms to rub where she practically stabbed him.
“He’s not gonna go for it, Mabel. Him or Ford. Grunkle Ford would probably have war flashbacks if you even said the word ‘weird’ around him. Even if you whispered it,” Dipper said matter of factly.
“That’s what you think. You just don’t have the Mabel Pines charm. Or the puppy dog eyes. You’ve lost your edge. You’re too emo now,” Mabel sighed as she started reminiscing how cute and cuddly Dipper used to be. Now he’s just like Robbie. But somehow cooler? Somehow.
“Emo?! It’s called goth!” Dipper said, his voice cracking very slightly. His cheeks flushed, hoping Mabel wouldn’t notice. Her lack of reaction led him to believe she didn’t. But he figured she was just doing him a favor by not embarrassing him about it anymore. It got boring, he figured.
“Anyway,” Dipper started after clearing his throat a little. “I’d like to see you try to convince Stan to foot the bill for this. There’s no amount of 15 year old puppy dog face that’ll get him to do it.”
“Oh ye of little faith, my brother,” Mabel sighed, shaking her head as she started unpacking her luggage.
The twins begged and pleaded to stay with their grunkles for the summer. It was a big summer! Their 16th birthday. Ford and Stan agreed to return from their Stan o War II expeditions on the condition that they could plan a huge party for them before sending them back home. They thought it would be nice to do for the kids. Especially since they haven't really seen them since they turned 13. Dipper, however, has been keeping correspondence with Ford every week.
Mabel pulled a blazer out of her largest suitcase and held it up to Dipper with a wide, metal filled, grin. "I brought this just for the pitch! Hopefully it'll make Grunkle Stan take me seriously since all he does is wear a blazer in the shack. And dress pants. Come to think of it, he wears a full suit to work in a tourist trap," she said mostly to herself at the end.
"Did you get the blazer because you think it'll make you more grown up?" Dipper asked, rolling his eyes slightly.
"Uh, duh, Dipper. Why else would I just have a blazer laying around as a teenager?" Mabel asked, rolling her eyes back.
Dipper had his back turned to Mabel but he smiled at her comment. He loved that his sister was so sarcastic and funny. It was one of his favorite things about her.
After about 15 minutes passed, they were both unpacked and settled into their old room. Ford had even convinced Stan to get the kids their own full sized beds, instead of the smaller twin sized beds. He thought it would make them feel more comfortable. He wasn't wrong though.
Dipper trudged down the stairs first, wanting to be witness to this disaster of a business pitch his sister was about to initiate. He looked around for a moment. It was eerily quiet. The only thing that could be heard was the clicking of a keyboard from the kitchen and hushed arguing. They obviously didn't want to be heard but they sucked at it, frankly.
He sighed and flattened his fingers against his hips to stick them into his pockets. He took a step towards the kitchen before jumping at a loud yell that startled him from head to toe. Of course it was Grunkle Stan's voice. Dipper rushed into the kitchen to see what was going on.
"Grunkle Stan?!" Dipper yelled, his hands gripping the doorway in terror. "Are you okay?!"
Ford and Stan looked to their nephew, confused about why he was so startled. They were huddled around a laptop on the kitchen table. Stan was sitting in front of the computer and Ford standing but leaned down to read what was on the screen.
"Are you okay, kid?" Stan asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
Dipper slowed his breathing to a normal pace before laughing it off. "Y-Yeah. I'm A-OK! I just..." He trailed off.
"Dipper, it's alright," Ford said as he walked up to his nephew and placed a solid hand on his shoulder. "We're just..." He looked back at his brother, who shook his head slowly, his mouth a hard line and his eyebrows flat. Ford turned his attention back to Dipper.
"Stan's trying online dating. He says he wants to have a date to your birthday party. I don't care about that sort of thing personally but..."
"SIXER!" Stan blurted as he started blushing furiously, hunching over the computer. "Always openin your mouth..." he grumbled to himself, knowing full well they both could hear him. "I just wanted to make a FRIEND that's not my brother, you kids, or Soos. Can't an old coot want that for himself?"
Ford and Dipper looked at each other with the same intrigued expression. Dipper straightened himself up and nodded.
"Yeah. You can definitely want that for yourself," he answered. "Have you...had any luck?" Dipper asked cautiously.
"Not really," Stan said curtly. He knew online dating at his age would be tedious but not _this_ bad.
"Actually, Dipper," Ford interjected. "Someone just messaged him back. Eagerly," he said, shooting a grin at Stan.
"Shut your trap! We don't even know if she's a real person," Stan grumbled as he typed on the laptop on front of them. "Or if she's a...what is it? Dogwhale?"
"Catfish," Ford and Dipper corrected in unison.
Stan looked at his brother and nephew, squinting his eyes at them. "Sometimes I wonder who's Sixer's twin here. Me or you, kid. Aside from the fact you look like The Cure meets Marilyn Manson these days." He turned back to the computer and continued typing.
"How do you know who Marilyn Manson is?" Dipper asked with much confusion in his voice.
"Don't worry about it, kid," Stan dismissed. "It's a good look on you."
Dipper blushed and rubbed the back of his neck shyly. "Oh! Thanks," he said quietly, looking around the room nervously. "It's a new thing."
"Some of the smartest people I knew in college were goths," Ford added. "Keep up the good work...er...look...Yeah." Ford looked between the other two and left the room quickly out of embarrassment.
"GRRUUNNKKKLLLEEE STAANNNNNN!!!" Mabel squealed as she rushed past Dipper into the kitchen with her blazer on haphazardly. She very obviously didn't know how to put it on to fit her correctly but that didn't stop her from trying.
Stan turned to look at Mabel who was standing there eagerly with a book under her right arm. He couldn't help but smile at his niece still being the same silly person she always has been. It always warmed every corner of his heart. Even though he'd never admit it.
"What's up, kid?" He asked as he leaned back in the chair and crossed his left ankle over his right knee.
ding!
"So! I have a proposition for you!" Mabel said as she pulled her book out and opened it.
ding!
ding!
ding!
"What is that?" Mabel asked curiously as she stepped forward towards Stan and the laptop.
"Nothing!!" Stan said as he slammed the laptop closed.
"Stan's doing online dating," Dipper said without thinking. He made a small noise then covered his mouth quickly.
There was an unsettling silence at first followed by a loud shriek of excitement followed by Mabel jumping up and down with the book still in her hands. "GRUNKLE STAN NO WAY! NOOOOO WAAAAYYY!! AH, I'M SO EXCITED FOR YOU!"
Stan and Dipper both covered their ears.
"Alright, alright, kid. That's enough. It's no big deal."
"IT IS SO A BIG DEAL!!! Have you met anyone yet? Did you ask anyone on a date?" Mabel asked rapidly.
"No and no," Stan said simply.
Mabel's entire disposition changed when he answered. "Oh... Well those dings from the computer sound promising! There was a lot of them too. Maybe it's multiple women trying to get your attention?"
"No. It's...It's one woman. I just met her," Stan said as he opened the laptop back up and went to the woman's profile. "Says here she's an artist, she loves period pieces, and loves all things Halloween. Don't really get the last part but the first two things? It makes her the dame of my dreams," he sighed with a smile. He quickly reigned himself back in and cleared his throat.
"Anyways, we're just...chattin right now. That's all. It probably won't even last a day. She's too good to be true. She's probably a...wazzit called, Dip?"
"Catfish," Dipper answered quickly.
"Yeah that. She's probably a catfish," Stan said sadly.
"Grunkle Stan," Mabel said softly as she walked over to him and sat her book down on the table. "I know you've led a hard life but you deserve happiness. So don't shoot it down before it's even had the chance to take flight," she advised wisely, placing her hand on his shoulder.
"Wise words, kid," Stan said, accepting her advice. "I'll...give it a chance."
"YAY!!" Mabel squealed as she clapped her hands happily.
Stan's gaze snapped to the book in front of them. "Wazzat?" he asked, pointing with his chin. "And why the hell are you wearing a blazer? And wearin it like...that?"
A huge grin slowly spread across Mabel's face, showing every single color in her braces, at Stan's sudden interest. "Grunkle Stan...do I have a proposition for you!"
29 notes · View notes