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rabbit-of-mugenri · 1 year

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I wonder, what do you ship in Len'en?

Oh hey, you're the one who made the Fanfic Discord server right? This is Starrot Vanity! And I finally made a Tumblr for Len'en stuff 'cause the hyperfixation is back I caved in and wanted a larger space for my headcanons/AUs that Discord couldn't provide. You've asked me this question before, but for the audience at home (also so I can elaborate on some of them):

Ooookay, so, this is a bit of a complicated question to answer, since the ships I'm interested in on a relationship analysis level and the ships that I find think would make a good couple are two separate circles. Not to mention there's a third, equally separate circle consisting of ships that aren't actually ships in the romantic sense, more in a platonic/"they have a really good dynamic" sense.

So I'll split this into threes parts: Ships That are Good, Ships That are Interesting (but please for the love of God don't emulate the behaviours of these ships they're unhealthy as fuck), and Platonic Ships.

(Also content warning in the second section for abusive relationships and Suzumi being Suzumi)

Ships That are Good

AkaYabu

This is just a pure, simple "idiots in love" ship, with a dash of "no homo" since they're just friends. So what if they tuck a homie in bed, give their homie a little kiss sometimes, that's just what bros do!

...As you can see, the main conflict in this ship is that both of them think the other sees them as just a friend, alongside their own denial about being in love. Doubly so in Hooaka's case: Why should Yabusame be interested in them when they have Tsubakura? Hooaka can tell the two have a deep, complex relationship with each other, and they don't want to intrude. Which leads to...

YabuTsuba

Oh boy, these two. Yabusame has a deep, unwavering loyalty to Tsubakura that neither know exactly why. Tsubakura's especially confused by this, but at the same time they need that. After all the pain and suffering and death they've gone through, they need someone who's just there. never asking why like everyone else.

(As for how these two ships are resolved, usually one is more down played than the other. So for example, if the focus of something is on YabuTsuba, then Hooaka simply sees Yabusame as a friend. Occasionally though, I'm reminded that Yabusame has two hands.)

TsuruTen

This one's interesting, since it's essentially YabuTsuba in reverse. Or, to put it another way, Tsurubami is (ironically) a more human Yabusame. Whereas Yabusame's reasons for staying by Tsubakura is shrouded in enigma, Tsurubami's reasons for staying by Tenkai is much more simple: Tenkai represented a alliance with Azumaterasu, a barrier workshop rumoured to have been founded by a god.

But Tsurubami began to feel that Tenkai represented much more than that; Tenkai was a way to starve off the loneliness that came part and parcel with ruling Mugenri. Tenkai added colour to their world, and soon Tsurubami realized that they didn't want to use them as a pawn, they wanted a friend.

Ships That are Interesting (but please for the love of God don't emulate the behaviours of these ships they're unhealthy as fuck)

HibaTsugu

So like, there's no canon basis as to how badly Hibaru treated Tsugumi, but in my headcanon it's pretty badly my dude.

Both of them are old as balls, but while Hibaru has seen shit, Tsugumi was oddly spared from most of the horrors living for hundreds of years has. Perhaps out of luck, perhaps out of a preference for plants over people. They heard of Tsurubami and their dictatorship, though, and they weren't fond of that.

Neither was Hibaru. And so, the two of them paired together in an effort to take down the Senri Shrine. Along the way, the two became friends, possibly even more.

And then the final confrontation happened, wherein the pair learned the truth behind Mugenri, its purpose. Hibaru's response? Snap Tsugumi's wings and leave them behind.

Adding on to this, Hibaru's got like a thousand years of moral decay to work with, versus Tsugumi's somewhat sheltered life. How fine were things, truly?

Suzumi + Shitodo (SuzuAo, SuzuAka, SuzuKuro)

Sure, Tsubakura-sama was their main target, but Suzumi can work on multiple projects at once. And, well, hurting those close to them also counts towards Tsubakura-sama's suffering, doesn't it? Since Yabusame's too...strange in a way that Suzumi doesn't like, that leaves the Shitodo family.

Kuroji's their main target, being the one closest to Tsubakura-sama. And oh, how close they are to the real thing! How beautiful it is to see their normally aloof behaviour break down, crying and begging for their life! Alas, their only a pale imitation to the great Tsubakura, so they're soon disposed of.

Hooaka, now there's an interesting one! They play dumb, but Suzumi knows better. It's just so fun to push their buttons, see what causes them to drop the act and show a more serious side. It's like a gift only they get to see!

And Aoji, oh, Aoji. They're pretty, they're in tune with nature, they're small and quiet and just a little slow on the uptake. What isn't there to love? Just cute enough to kill.

SuzuTsuba

I...don't actually know what to add here that hasn't been said before. Suzumi is their own warning.

Platonic Ships

Hooaka and Kuroji

Man, these two. These two. They care for each other, they want to protect the other, everything the do for the other is out of love. It's just their definition of showing appreciation for the other is so covered in layers of irony and an inability to be honest that the other misunderstands and assumes that the other just hates them.

A tragedy, isn't it?

The rest of the Shitodo's

Honestly the dynamics of all the Shitodo's is just so good. They're all varying degrees of dysfunctional, but at the end of the day they all care about each other. It's just...a struggle to get any of them to admit it.

The Fujiwara's

Speaking of dysfunctional families that still love each other at the end of the day, how about Mugenri's own home-grown Fujiwara's? Possibly even more of a mess compared to the Shitodo's, since murder's on the table for dealing with family scuffles.

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akindplace · 2 years

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I've always thought the saying "you need to love yourself before you can be loved" was entirely unfair because it makes me scared that I won't ever have someone love me because I still can't figure out how to love myself.

Eh, I think the idea was that you to know when you deserve more when you love yourself or at least when you do not hate yourself so much, when you care for yourself at some capacity. It is not actually necessary because often being loved is not something you can actively control, right? People love you or they don't, it is mostly up to them what they feel for you. It is up to us to accept that love, to notice when people call it "love" but it is actually abuse.

It is important to know what love should be like, how it should care and respect you, instead of only hurting you. It is important for us to see red flags, right? It is important to know what good love is, what love we deserve, to not settle for half-ass declarations of love that never come to be anything other than words with no meaning.

But you can know all that, have a good relationship, be loved, and still have self-esteem issues, still not be able to love yourself completely (that is a lot of hard work!), to be depressed, anxious, in pain...

I think the saying had some good intentions when people started saying it, but honestly nowadays it is used to shame people who have personal issues into "suddenly becoming confident and happy or else they will be alone forever, forget mental illness, forget therapy, just love yourself and you will have a romantic relationship". Honestly, the saying is usually meant in that way and it's toxic positivity, and not inclusive at all of people who have personal issues.

People who haven't built up their self-love are not going to be lonely, they can be loved. It is important to see red flags, to know what love is, but that isn't something you necessarily learn by loving yourself. You should know boundaries, you should know what abuse is, you should know how people should be treated, you should know about respect and honestly you can learn about all that in other ways. Self-love isn't the one thing you need to have so you can have a relationship.

TLDR; You should know that you deserve love, even when you cannot love yourself.

This turned out to be a rant on how the saying kind turned into shaming people with self-love issues.

#answered #anon #about self love #about love #about relationships #cw abusive relationships

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wihipped · 4 months

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Btw, I wrote a fic about Keith and Lance.

Summary:

Keith’s had some bad experiences with his boyfriends in the past, which is why he doesn’t want to take it any further with Lance. He feels bad about it and decides that his own feelings aren’t as important, so if Lance wants to take it further, then that’s fine by him (it’s not).

i’ve only written 1/3 chapters, and idk when the rest will be posted, but i’ll post it on tumblr

warning: this fic is gonna contain themes like rape/dub-/non-con, abusive relationships, sexual abuse, smut, and bad self-esteem/boundaries etc.

don’t like, don’t read

#whump #fic #klance #voltron #keith centric #keith kogane #lance mcclain #fanfic #ao3 #cw rape #cw abusive relationships #dont like dont read

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incognitopolls · 17 days

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"Abusive" includes forms of abuse like physical, mental, emotional, or any other form.

–

We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.

#polls #incognito polls #anonymous #tumblr polls #tumblr users #questions #polls about relationships #submitted dec 12 #parents #growing up #childhood #abuse mention #tw abuse mention #cw abuse #abuse tw

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wormieapple · 2 months

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please understand that i will never and can never condone John Winchester’s actions but some of y’all really don’t understand what “he did the best he could” means.

he neglected and at the very least emotionally abused his kids, and there’s a pretty good argument that he might’ve physically abused them as well. he isolated them, prevented them from forming any lasting relationships outside of immediate family, left them alone for days if not weeks on end with firearms and very little food. And that’s not even the half of it. and everything he did was a manifestation of grief and drive to protect his family. which does not in the slightest justify how he treated sam and dean, but it does lay out his morals and motives pretty clearly.

He loves his kids, he really does. and while struggling to deal with his own trauma he was doing everything he could in his mind to keep them safe. but that doesn’t make his best enough, not by a long shot. that doesn’t even make his best efforts good efforts. at the end of the day he abused his kids and royally fucked up their ability to cope with their own grief and trauma in ways that i cannot touch with a 10ft pole rn or i’ll be writing 57 essays right here and now.

and again i hate john just as much as the next person but he did not set out to abuse his kids. he didn’t have nefarious intentions when it came to how he raised his kids. he was a good person who turned into an abusive asshole due to grief, paranoia, and alcoholism. and it makes perfect sense that sam and dean still love him even if they recognize the damage he did to them. because they also know how hard their dad tried, and they’ve said as much several times. and i get it cause that’s how i grew up. my dad did everything he could despite his grief, despite his depression, despite working 14 hour days in poverty and homelessness, and he still neglected and emotionally abused me. not because he was a bad person, but because he had no tools to deal with everything he was going through. and his best wasn’t enough, his best failed me. and i still love my dad cause not every memory was bad, and he does truly love me and my siblings. And i’m lucky in a way that sam and dean never were because my dad recognized where he failed us, owned up to what he did and tries everyday to repair the damage he did.

I have closure, and that’s something sam and dean could never really have. but they do have the clusterfuck of emotions that is he tried his best and it wasn’t enough.

#one last one from the drafts #yall are seriously missing the reason y sam and dean’s relationship to their dad is so devastating by only saying fuck john winchester #and it shows #john wasn’t a monster he was a person and if u don’t recognize that via demonizing him u run a genuine risk of becoming the kind of person-#he was. because that’s exactly how john thought of his own father and how he treated the boys stems directly from that.#cw abuse #spn #supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #john winchesters a+ parenting #john winchester

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turtletaubwrites · 24 days

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Misty Eyes ~ Part 5

THIS FIC CONTAINS DARK CONTENT. 18+ ONLY. MDNI.

Pairings: Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader, Doflamingo x Fem!Reader (Past & Flashbacks)

Word Count: 3975

Misty Eyes Masterlist

Ao3 Link

Summary: Feeling good seemed out of reach, but you'd never felt safer than you do with Law. Safe enough to ask for what you want.

Author's Note: Alright friends, patience is required, but rewarded 🥰

Thank you so much @pinejayy for this delicious request!!

Rating/Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Devil Fruit User Reader, Swearing, Eventual Smut, Angst, Pet Names, Degradation, Punishment, Emotional Abuse, DARK CONTENT, DUBCON, Grooming, Trauma, Past Sexual Abuse, Manipulation, Power Imbalance, Dubious Consent, Doflamingo is His Own Warning, Bondage, Dissociation, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Kissing, Shame, Blood and Violence, Vomiting, Minor Character Death, Sparring, Childhood Memories, Chaste Childhood Kiss, Teasing, Tickling, Yandere Doflamingo, Hurt/Comfort, Smut, Hair-Pulling, Birth Control, Unprotected Sex (stay safe out there!), Forced Pregnancy (Implied/Intended), Sterilization (Implied/Intended), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Penis in Vagina Sex, Soft Trafalgar D. Water Law, Other Additional Tags To Be Added, Fluff, Sexual Dysfunction, Safe words, Choking, Praise Kink, Body Worship, Multiple Orgasms, Aftercare

!!! SPOILERS !!! This story begins during the 2 year timeskip before the Punk Hazard Arc, and there will also be spoilers for the Dressrosa Arc for backstory lore

“What do you mea–”

“Nuh uh,” Law scolded, sticking his thumb in your mouth like a hook to pull you closer by your bottom teeth. “You know I could always tell when you were lying. I know you faked it.”

You pulled his hand away from your face, frowning at his shit-eating grin.

“I don’t know wha–”

“You little liar,” he accused, sitting up. His movement forced you to slide from straddling his waist to sitting in his lap, the feel of his still firm cock beneath you making you gasp.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, even as you scowled at him. His satisfied chuckle made you scrunch your nose, heat burning your face.

“How could you tell,” you gave in, earning a quick kiss before he flipped you, laughing at you while he laid you on your back beneath him.

“You’re a terrible liar.”

Your mouth fell open in outrage, but you couldn’t attack him while he held your fists, kissing your knuckles.

“I’m an incredible liar,” you squirmed, his weight pinning you down.

“See what I mean,” he taunted, your futile thrashing making you breathless. “That wasn’t believable at all.”

A frustrated huff left your lips as you struggled to punch that smirk off of his face, but he stopped talking while he kissed his way along your neck and collarbones, so you let it slide. He finally slowed, releasing your hands as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips.

“Why didn’t you just mist away,” he seemed to tease, but his voice was too soft.

“I…” you paused, about to argue until you realized that you didn’t want to answer. You clamped your eyes shut against that feeling, then opened them again to glare at him. “Don’t change the subject. How could you tell I was lying?”

Law took a moment, seeming to search for his answer, which did not appease you.

“I’m not sure,” he smirked at your disgruntled hum. “You always seemed so… cute when you lied.”

He blinked, looking down as if he hadn’t meant to say that, but you wouldn’t give him a pass just for looking adorable.

So you bit him.

“Gah, what,” he sat up, pulling back in surprise until your teeth left his arm.

“Two things,” you snarked, propping up onto your elbows, “I want to know exactly what my tell is so I can get rid of it, then I want to hear all about how you thought I was cute back then.”

“So your tells are,” he grunted, catching your fist at the plural word, “sometimes the corner of your lip goes up just a bit–”

“It does not! That’s the first thing I trained out,” you argued, sitting up on your knees to face him. You narrowed your eyes at him while he ran his thumb over the edge of your mouth, until you sighed at his touch.

“Maybe I just pay more attention,” he mused, voice husky as he kissed your temple. His breath moved to your neck, your need for answers melting away. Until your body reminded you of the moment.

“Uh, Law,” you coughed, pushing him away gently, “do you have a towel?”

He returned from his adjacent bathroom with a warm, damp towel, helping you clean up the mess he’d made before kissing up your stomach and chest again.

“What’s my other tell,” you interrupted, his soft touches ending as he rolled his eyes. He grabbed your hand, kissing your fingers before moving your own thumb across them.

“You rub your thumb over your fingernails,” he reported, brow raised as if judging your performance.

“I do that all the time,” you yanked your hand back, embarrassed that he’d read you so well. Lying was something you prided yourself on. It’s what kept you safe.

“It’s a self-soothing behavior,” he softened, pushing the hair back from your face. “And you’re right, you’re probably a great liar. I just spent too much time watching you.”

Releasing a frustrated breath, you looked at his stupid face, and couldn’t help but smile.

“Is this when you tell me how cute you thought I was?”

Law sucked his teeth, his bright eyes ready for a challenge, but instead, he kissed you. Unhurried lips and tongues, treasuring the taste of each other.

“I thought you were gross,” he whispered against you, earning a hard punch to the arm. He laughed before he continued, holding your wrists again. “But then I thought you were cute, and I thought that was gross too.”

You grinned at the memory of what a grouchy kid he was. For over two years, you’d spent everyday together, bickering, sparring, and causing chaos.

“At first, I studied you to gain an advantage during training,” he confessed with a sigh, looking away while his fingers tugged at the sheet. “I don’t know when it changed, but eventually I was watching you because I wanted to. Because you were cute.”

He teased the last word, caving in to your demands, and you rewarded him with another kiss, wrapping your arms around him. Soon hands and lips were traveling, until he laid you back against the pillows.

“Can I make you come now, or do you have other demands?”

You rolled to the side to hide your face while your skin burned, and his pleased hum and teasing kisses along your side didn’t help.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” he soothed, your breath going too slow, and too shallow. “But I would love to make you feel good.”

His voice, his words, his gentle fingers that had pulled away to give you space, all of it made you freeze.

“What can I do to help you feel good, Y/N?”

There were so many strange thoughts in your head, most moving too fast for you to follow.

Except for one thought that felt more like an emotion, a need. You were barely conscious of it, yet it drove you forward, pulling him onto you.

Make him feel good.

Lost again in the way he touched you. Lost in the way he breathed your name while his marked fingers smoothed along your skin. Lost in the need to please him.

“Fu-huck,” he gasped out, moaning as your fingers wrapped around his shaft, already hard again.

Stroking him with purpose, you lined yourself up as you rubbed his tip through the new wetness his touch had drawn. His eyes rolled back before he buried his face in your neck, leaving a sloppy kiss against your skin.

A long whine left your lips, frustration making you writhe when he pulled away. He laid on his side at the edge of the bed, panting while his eyes tried to focus on your face.

You rolled, crawling toward him with your lip caught between your teeth, more needy sounds leaving your throat.

“Gods, you’re too fucking good,” he rasped, catching your hands before they could reach his cock again, “but, you didn’t answer my question, Y/N. How can I make you feel good?”

Your body slumped, a heavy sigh leaving your lips before his fingers brushed across them.

“Let me take care of you,” he pleaded, the words hot against your ear.

All you could do was nod, body limp as he lifted you back to the pillows, propping you up as if you were one of the precious comics on his shelves. That thought made you laugh, making him narrow his eyes at you until you giggled even more.

“Something funny,” he teased with that lovely smirk.

Words weren’t leaving your lips, so he sucked his teeth while he watched you squirm. Your breath stilled at the touch of his fingers along your inner thighs.

“It seemed like you enjoyed me eating you out earlier, until I started fingering you. Did I read that right?”

Your eyes went wide, pausing for a moment before your words spilled out.

“N-no, it all felt amazing! I just got overwhelmed, but you felt so good…”

He watched you closely then, and you wondered if you’d shown a tell.

But I didn't lie…

“Okay… Please tell me if you’re feeling overwhelmed, or if you don’t like something.”

“I will,” you promised, your voice a bit high while you tilted your head down to the side, looking up at him with a teasing smile playing on your lips.

“How about we use a safe word,” he suggested, smoothing a hand along your arm while he ignored your attempt to distract from the topic. “Do you already have one you’d like to use?”

Your eyes were a little wide as you shook your head, but a gentle kiss on your temple slowed your breathing.

“It should be a word that doesn’t mean much, and that we wouldn’t normally say. Anytime you’re feeling overwhelmed or want to stop, you can say it, okay,” he paused, waiting for you to nod before continuing. “How about… radish?”

“Why radish,” you snorted, your body loosening up.

“Why not,” he grinned at you. His smile was a sight you’d never get enough of. “Do you have any other ideas?”

Your lips quirked, but you agreed to the word.

“Perfect. Now, will you please tell me how to make you feel good?”

He stared at your parted lips while you froze. No words came to mind. Just tension, and a mild sense of danger.

“It’s alright if you don’t know,” he reassured, his eyes going soft as they raked over you. “Just talk to me. Is it alright if I touch you?”

You caught yourself rubbing your thumb over your fingernails when you agreed, stopping the movement before he noticed.

What’s wrong with me?

Law’s hands and lips traveled the length of your body, pulling soft gasps and sighs from your throat. You moved into his touch, reacting, showing him how good it felt.

“I can’t believe how beautiful you are,” he whispered, looking down at your face while he traced his fingers along your leg. Your cheeks were already burning before a breathy moan surprised you both.

He cocked his head at you, repeating the movement. For some reason, the barest touch of his fingertips to the middle of your shin made you moan again, the ticklish sensation feeling better than you thought it should.

“Mm, found something,” he teased, leaning closer to kiss your embarrassed face. “Do you know any other places I can touch to make you moan like that?”

“Law,” you writhed, voice breathy as his fingers danced up your body.

“Come on, pretty. Tell me one thing that feels good. I know you can think of something.”

There was no pressure in his words, but there was heat, and the hint of a challenge. You still couldn’t think of any words, but you managed to move your head to the side, trailing your fingers along the crook of your neck.

He hummed as his fingers replaced yours, as your eyes fluttered shut.

“Your skin’s so soft,” he purred, the hunger in his words making your toes curl. “Does it feel good when I kiss here too?”

Whining, your body went loose when he laid beside you, one of his legs resting between yours before he kissed your neck again.

It felt so good, you could have stayed in this moment forever. The feel of his lips, tongue, facial hair, even his breath overwhelmed you. That sensitive skin sent electric shocks down to your lower back until you shook for him, his warm laughter only adding to it.

“Thank you for showing me what you like,” he breathed against your ear. “You’re being such a good girl for me.”

Law’s praise took every thought away, everything was gone while your body reacted. Your hands fisted the sheets, your thighs tried to rub together, seeking friction, but his leg was in the way.

“Mm, Y/N, is it alright if I finger you? You can say the word if you want me to stop, okay?”

Hesitation came back, along with anger. Anger at yourself for whatever was stopping you. For whatever was keeping you from enjoying this time with him.

Anger at yourself for not pleasing him by giving him what he wanted.

“It’s okay, hey,” Law soothed, his thumb stroking your cheek, “we can stop here, or we can do something else. Whatever you–”

“I want to,” you choked out. Clearing your throat wasn’t enough fix the broken sound in your voice. “I don’t know why, but… me feeling good seems…”

His soft eyes warmed your skin, even though you couldn’t meet them. He waited for you.

“I keep getting nervous when it’s just me,” you murmured, keeping your eyes wide to fight the heat there.

“Just you feeling pleasure,” he prompted, studying your face while you gulped, nodding to confirm. “You said you want to. Do you wanna try, and we can stop if you need to?”

“Mhm,” you agreed, looking up as you brushed away an unwelcome tear with the back of your hand.

Law pressed gentle kisses across your face, wiping away another wayward tear.

“You deserve to feel good, Y/N.” His fingers followed his pretty words, and you fought to just be here with him. So slow, so light, that tattooed hand trailed lower, until he traced around your entrance, leaning close to your ear again. “I wanna make you come so bad. Please, can I feel you come on my fingers?”

Your “yes,” came out in a whine, and you both moaned at the slide of his fingers, your drenched pussy aching for his touch.

“Gods, you're so wet,” he panted, playing with your clit while he watched your face. “Can I–”

You interrupted his request, nodding permission before he pushed one finger, then two inside of you. His eyes never stopped scanning, and he sat up to free his other hand, caressing down your body.

It felt so good, but there was something. You’d been able to keep memories out, but you couldn’t relax.

“What do you need,” he checked in, his skilled fingers bringing you close, but not close enough.

“I feel like I–” you moaned, his thumb moving over your clit while his fingers curled up to that spongy spot inside you. “I feel like I need to make you feel good.”

“Mm, you are making me feel good,” he rasped, his body seeming to relax at your confession. “I love the way you’re gripping my fingers like this. I love the little sounds you make. Watching you come would make my fucking year, Y/N.”

A laugh fell from your lips, then a moan as he pressed a little deeper.

“You don’t need it, but you have my permission to come,” he teased, his voice just a bit too real, and somehow those words released something. A tiny smirk graced his lips as you started to fall apart.

“Gonna be a good girl, and come for me?”

“Fuck,” you breathed, the steady rhythm he’d found was building so much pressure in your core it almost hurt.

“That’s it, you’re doing so well,” he praised, his free hand grabbing your chin to force your heavy lidded eyes to his. “You’re close, yeah? I want you to tell me exactly what you need so you can come on my fingers like a good girl. I know you can.”

“Law…”

“Can you do that for me?”

So close. So fucking close. But here was a new plateau, and all of his wonderful work was about to go to waste. Until you thought of something.

Something that came with a pile of confusing memories and shame. Something you would have ignored, and stuffed away if you hadn’t felt so safe.

If Law hadn’t made you feel so safe.

“Choke me, please.”

The request was almost silent, but you saw his lips part slightly. A hesitation. A mountain of self loathing threatened to roll over you.

Long, tattooed fingers encircled your throat, a necklace marked with “DEATH.”

“Such a good girl, telling me what you want. Let me feel you– Mm, there’s my girl.”

He wrapped the perfect amount of pressure around your neck, keeping the pace with his other hand until your body started bucking, your eyes rolling white.

It was everything you fucking needed.

And it kept going.

Law never stopped giving and giving, praising you while you shattered. You almost went to mist from the overwhelm, only managing to stay solid because you needed to keep coming for him. For you.

You mourned the loss of those wicked fingers choking and fucking you, but he worshipped your body again while aftershocks tore through you.

“You’re fucking amazing,” he chuckled, laughing harder at the gibberish you replied with. He kissed and caressed you while your body came back to the room. “Can I get you anything? Water, or are you hung–”

He’d moved away slightly, but you reached out with your wobbly arms, pulling him close. He hummed at your touch, then gasped again when your hands found his cock, the heat of him making you writhe.

“Y/N, we don’t have to–”

“Please, fuck me,” you begged, sluggishly rolling onto your stomach. Looking over your shoulder at him, you got to witness the loveliest, most desperate look you’d ever seen on his face when you lifted your ass toward him. “I need your cock.”

There was no hesitation now.

Just the whispered, “say the word if you need to,” before he was behind you, thrusting into your twitching cunt while you screamed for him.

Tattooed hands on your hips helped him slam into you, hitting that perfect spot so fast, so hard, that you came in what felt like seconds.

“Oh fuck. Pussy feels so good, baby,” he moaned, slurring a bit before pressing your upper body into the bed. The new angle made you scream louder, clawing at the sheets.

“You like that, Y/N,” he checked in, voice strained as he fought his need.

“Pull my hair,” you demanded softly.

One of those hands pushed you down, his weight between your shoulder blades while he pounded into you. Frenzied thrusts rocked your body while his free hand fisted into the hair at the back of your head, finally giving you that sting you needed.

“Do it again,” he forced through his teeth, his bruising grip making you drool onto the sheets. “Come for me, pretty. Come on my cock right fucking now.”

“Law, fuck, I’m…”

Words were gone, his quarters ringing with your breathy screams, and his heavy grunts. The slapping of wet, needy flesh nearly drowned you both out until he buried himself as deep as he could go, your toes curling while he filled you with heat. Your body milked the come out of him until you both collapsed, sweaty limbs still reaching for each other.

“Are you okay,” he coaxed, brushing another hot tear away from your cheek.

“I’m happy.”

Those words had left your lips many times over the past few years, but this time you didn’t have to lie. This time you let tears fall without shame, laughing as he left tickling kisses anywhere he could reach, holding you close. More laughter floated through the air while he carried you to the bathroom. You trailed your fingertips along his lines of ink, as though you were walking the paths around your new home, memorizing each lovely view.

“You know this doesn't mean I’m gonna go easy on you, right,” Law threatened as he threw a blanket over your bare skin, wrapping himself around you.

“You’re such an ass,” you hummed, nuzzling into his warmth.

“You could be nicer to your captain, you know,” he quipped, his deep voice making you shiver.

“If you’re my captain, does that make me a Heart Pirate?”

His arm tensed around you, and your mind cringed against your presumption.

Nothing’s changed. I’m still a tool, a threat, even if I am something more. Don’t fucking push–

“Only if you want to be.”

Law’s hushed offer stilled your thoughts. You couldn’t answer without seeing his face, so you twisted in his arms until you could cup his cheek, knowing that the shy smile on his face reflected your own. His eyes poured over you, until his brows creased slightly as he waited for your response. Waited to hear if you wanted to spend your life as a pirate, living on this submarine, putting yourself in danger. Waited to hear if you wanted to stay with him.

It wasn’t a question.

“I do,” you promised with a kiss, pulling back to smirk at him, “but I’m still gonna call you an ass.”

Soon you were begging, breathless as you lost the fight, your cheeks hurting from laughing after his long fingers had stopped tickling you. Being wrapped up in each other still felt unreal. He fell asleep so fast, his light snores a comforting sound, even when you couldn’t stop the tears from staining your skin.

You’d never felt safer.

But memories were still there.

Doffy.

He’ll find me. He’ll take me back. After he makes me watch him kill Law.

He’ll probably use my hands. Just like…

You went completely limp, head lolling as your body fought the sticky memory of blood on your hands.

Part of your brain still had memories. Part of your brain berated you for not enjoying this perfect moment with Law. But most of your brain went to a strange buzzing place, unfocused eyes seeing nothing but a blur.

When this empty space wasn’t frightening, it was relaxing, in a sick way.

Leaving.

Being nothing.

Safe.

“Y/N? You okay,” he checked in, groggy voice filled with concern.

Your limp body rolled as he shifted. A tiny part of you floated above the bed, watching, yelling at yourself to move, hating that he had to deal with this.

The rest of you was trapped in a fish tank, sinking to the bottom.

Law stayed with you. Even though you couldn’t feel, even though you couldn’t hear, you knew he was there. He was there when you returned, soothing your “sorry’s” away. Asking what you needed, bringing you water, then starting all over again as if it hadn’t happened.

Holding you close as he drifted off to sleep, and this time, you followed him.

This time, Law pulled you from the nightmares. He reminded you where you were while he kept you from clawing at your chest. He waited until he saw your eyes stay present, then he teased you until you were his again.

“Hurry up, or I’ll make you use the barracks bathroom,” he warned, pushing you through the door with a towel and a change of clothes. He beamed at your middle finger, and you could hear him counting down random numbers while you got ready.

“Why don’t you just join me,” you challenged, about to turn on the water.

“You know why.”

You showered fast, even though your body twisted with need at the thought of him shoving you against the tile wall, but your mood soured when you looked in the mirror. It was disorienting to see that face on this submarine. To see that face anywhere but at Doffy’s side.

You managed to pull yourself out before you fell too deep, but this time you didn’t push it away. No hiding, no running in fear.

Doffy lived there, behind your misty eyes. The weight of his presence hung around your shoulders like that heavy, pink coat. Your body screamed with the need to be safe, the need to be whatever he wanted you to be. His laugh echoed in your skull as he called for his “pretty doll.”

But you weren’t a doll anymore.

I’m a Heart Pirate now, Doffy. And I’m gonna help Law kill you.

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me all the ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: Heeeyyyy we made it. We completed the fic request. It's over... Lol, not! I have so much more planned for this story, but there will be a pause here while I circle back to another fic. But fret not, I'm obsessed with this story, and have already outlined some upcoming chapters!

Thank you so much for joining me! Again, I hope none of you relate to the reader's trauma, and her struggle to enjoy her own pleasure, but if you do, you're not alone 🖤 I hope you are given all the patience and love you need so that you can enjoy all the pleasure you desire.

You deserve to feel good!!

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @jadeddangel | @nothing-but-brass | @lovemesomefanfic846

Part 6

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

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dragon-in-a-fez · 19 days

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as someone who got frog-boiled into accepting abuse, the best advice I can give you is that the FIRST time your partner does something that makes you uncomfortable, you need to stand up for yourself. don't brush it off because you think it's a random blip.

the first month I knew my ex-spouse, they snapped at me over something silly in a way that felt controlling and demeaning, and I put it down to a long, tiring day and said nothing. that was a mistake.

because now, looking back at it, I know that if I'd said "hey, that came across as a little more hurtful than I think you meant it to, can I ask you to try not to talk to me that way?", they probably would have doubled and tripled down, and yelled at me a bunch for "not accepting their way of communicating", and we probably would have broken up.

and I probably wouldn't be here, seven years later, trying to heal from a relationship where their ever-increasing aggression regularly resulted in me hiding behind furniture while they screamed about how offensive it was for me to be scared.

you can tell a lot about someone from how they take feedback in a relationship, but only if you remember that you are worthy of taking up the space needed to voice that feedback in the first place.

#abuse cw #relationships #idk how to tag shit like this and idk how much I will or won't say about this relationship in the future so idk if it even needs a tag #but yeah this is like level one of the shit I've been dealing with the last few years

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deeism · 8 months

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up thinking about the bonnie and charlie kelly tragedy again. ohh their relationship is so not normal. she loves him in a way that she doesnt realize is selfish she never taught him to read or take baths he probably found out the stove was hot from touching it. bonnie's relationship with charlie is inherently abusive but shes not some mastermind or criminal she is just a very ill woman who doesnt realize when shes being manipulative or when what she calls empathy is actually just fear or sadness for herself.

charlie spent his whole life parenting his mom back and coaching her through her episodes and internalizing her superstitions and compulsions and in the end he didnt break any kind of cycle he just ended up worse than she is. he doesn't speak to her now he never even calls her he hates being around her... hes a dick to her maybe more than she deserves but in charlie's mind it's not about what she was trying to do its about what she ended up doing to him in the end. she depends on him in a way he never could on her. charlie could never be a dad and maybe its because bonnie kelly wasnt really ever a mom to him but also what else could she have possibly been but a mother. so much of her is reflected in him and they are so entirely unalike and he hates even thinking about her but he also won't leave philadelphia because she's in it and isnt it all so sad and strange

#GOD #theyre so :(#and thats not even mentioning jack kellys role in their relationship whicj #oh boy is a whole other post #i just. man. the kelly family tragedy dude #brandy.txt #charlie kelly #bonnie kelly #iasip #it's always sunny in philadelphia #cw abuse #i think

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roomwithavoid · 9 months

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the haters aren’t gonna like this one but i’m right!

#npd #narcissistic personality disorder #narcissist safe #npd safe #cw ableism #cw ableist language #the following tags are people who need to see this one :)#npd abuse #narcissistic abuse #narcissist #narcissistic trauma #narcissistic parents #narcissisticgaslighting #narcissism #raised by narcissists #narcissistic mother #narcissistic father #narcissistic ex #narcissistic relationship

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tarucore · 5 months

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screenshotting this one bc I can acknowledge that I’ve got shipper goggles on and op isn’t about that life which is fair but

I feel like batfam fans misunderstand the term parentification a lot and conflate it with Dick filling a parental role for his siblings, which might be part of the “oldest daughter syndrome” that’s so often pinned on him but that isn’t what parentification actually means

If I say that Dick Grayson was parentified, then that isn’t referring to him taking care of his siblings, it refers to the way Bruce treated him. As someone capable of taking care of his emotional needs and not as the child in need of care in the relationship

Parentification is a term that’s been around for decades, and while having to care for younger siblings might be a part of the definition, it focuses mostly on the role reversal of the parent-child dynamic. I’m not going to get into the psychology of it but being parentified has very little to do with if he actually acted as a parent for his siblings and everything to do with if he acted as a parent for Bruce

This is honestly why I prefer the term spouseification, which is less ambiguous than the term parentification and I feel accurately describes their “equal” relationship and the type of emotional abuse that Dick went through

Also from what I’ve read, Dick doesn’t act as a parental figure for any of his siblings except for Damian. While he might have given extra emotional support to Tim due to Bruce being Bruce, Dick still fits solidly into an older brother role. I’m not even going to touch on Dick’s relationship with Jason which is too weak to even be considered fraternal never mind parental

#cw abuse #cw emotional abuse #dick grayson analysis #dickie bird #idk why I went off like this but parentification really has nothing to do with the siblings #like that’s not the psychological term #eldest daughter syndrome is mostly a pop psychology thing #it might be a real phenomenon that is heavily influenced by parentification but they aren’t synonyms #I’m hesitantly tagging this #brudick #just because I mentioned I ship them and want to do anyone that blocks that tag the courtesy of ignoring me #bruce wayne #and another thing!!!! i don’t consider dick’s relationship with damian negatively at all #it was extreme circumstances as comic books often are and they have a very healthy parent/child relationship from what i’ve seen #*

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imfinereallyy · 1 year

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Father Figures, pt. 2

I swear it was a one-shot. But then my hand slipped and "oh oops there's Wayne". You can access part 1 here. This is rated m btw. The full version will be available on ao3 (my first time posting on there...) which is linked here. Anyway, enjoy :)

The first time Wayne Allen Munson meets Steve Harrington is in a hospital room. Sure, he has seen and heard about the kid in passing. It was hard not to in a town like Hawkins. With the kind of money his old man has and the pretty face his mother parades around, the Harringtons become a sort of household name. Especially in Wayne's household.

See, Wayne may not be much of a talker, but his nephew sure is. Especially when he gets angry about something. And boy did Steve Harrington make his Eddie mad. During Eddie's first time around with Senior Year, Steve's name comes out of that boy's mouth so often that if not for that tone of his, he would have thought the kid had a crush on him.

Actually, Wayne regretfully asks at one point if he does have a crush. Wayne finds out pretty quickly that Eddie doesn't, which isn't the problem nor why he regrets asking. The problem is apparently at that very moment in time, Eddie hasn't exactly come out to Wayne. The boy shakes so much that Wayne is afraid that Eddie might cause an earthquake. Wayne has to calm Eddie down and explain very carefully he doesn't care, he's his kid no matter what. Eddie cries, and asks "Dad, what made you think to just casually bring that up?"

Wayne shrugs and simply says "Didn't think it was a secret."

Eddie lets out a wet laugh. Wayne doesn't mention how it's the first time since Eddie showed up on his doorstep that he calls him Dad.

His heart swells.

So, with absolutely no crush in sight god Wayne he's an asshole, Steve's name is brought up quite often.

"Steve Harrington just parades himself around like he's a king."

"Steve Harrington just stands there while Tommy continues to be a piece of shit. Worse, he acts like he's bored."

"Girls just hang off of Harrington, he's even got Nancy Wheeler on his arm now. What a prick, thought she was smarter than that."

"Looks like Harrington got the shit kicked out of him by Byer's. You gotta love Karma sometimes."

Wayne watches Eddie frown at the last one before saying, "Kinda gotta back Steve up on the pictures though. That was creepy."

Eddie shakes his head then continues to rant "But smashing his camera? Dick move. Doesn't understand what it's like to be poor."

Wayne is still not completely convinced it's not a crush.

Wayne Allen Munson seems to know all about Steve Harrington before he actually has the chance to meet him. None of which he has learned makes Steve seem all that good.

Imagine Wayne's surprise when he finds the Harrington boy next to his son's hospital bed.

"What're you doin' here?" Wayne asks, startling Steve from his chair. Wayne watches as he hops up from the ground, straightening himself out.

"Sorry sir, I was just uh, keeping him company. The kid's families won't let them out of their sight and Dustin wanted him to have a familiar face with him if, sorry when he wakes up. Because we weren't sure we were allowed to grab you yet. So I volunteered to stay with him, seeing as I don't have a job anymore, and well I sort of feel responsible for Eddie now. And, god I am hanging out with Robin too much because I am rambling. Sorry, Sir. "

Wayne raises an eyebrow at him. He has seen Steve around town before, hard not to in a small place like Hawkins. Eddie points him out once, scoffing at his perfect hair and holier-than-thou attitude. Wayne originally is prepared to yell at him. The sight of a boy who looks very much like the very ones who hunted his Eddie down just a few days ago ignites something protective within him. Hearing this boy ramble though, flustered and making himself hopelessly small in front of Wayne, makes him hesitate.

"Boy, I don't know half-em names you're sayin' right now. I do recognize that kid Dustin though, ya know him?"

Steve nods his head up and down, "He's like my brother sir. Our brother." He looks down towards Eddie's bed.

Wayne avoids looking at his boy and chooses to look directly at Steve. "Well, he's a good kid. Came to me when Ed was missing, at the school. Told me he was a hero, and that he'll be missed. Guess now it was probably cause he wasn't sure if he was gonna make it and didn't want to get my hopes up. Don't know what made him change his mind either when he found me again today, told me they had him here."

Steve's face softens as Wayne talks about Dustin. Wayne pushes on, "If that kid trusts you, I don't got a reason not to trust you either. Well, until Eds here wakes up at least. He can tell me otherwise."

"Okay, Sir." Steve makes his way to move around Wayne and leave. Wayne grabs him by the wrist to stop him, and Steve flinches. Wayne decides to file that away for later and lets him go.

"No need to leave kid. And stop calling me sir. I'm not your old man. "

Steve's lips lift a little bit like Wayne just brought up an inside joke he isn't a part of. "Okay, sir—I mean Wayne. Okay, Wayne."

Steve and Wayne sit side by side next to Eddie. It's then Wayne finally looks down at his kid. He can't help but the rush of tears that come up at the sight of him. He is paler than usual, curls flat and dirty, tubes coming out of every part of him.

"My boy." He chokes.

Steve thankfully stays silent as Wayne weeps. They sit for a while in silence before Wayne asks, "You gonna tell me what happened?"

Steve, who Wayne doesn't point out has bloodshot eyes, says "You going to believe me?"

Wayne simply returns "I'm willing to try."

So Steve tells him. Tells him everything that has happened over the last week. Tells him of monsters and other worlds. How it isn't the first time, how it is hopefully the last. How scary it is for them. How Eddie is stupid but incredibly brave. How Eddie barely makes it. How Steve will be the first to yell at him when he wakes up.

Wayne listens carefully through the whole thing and can't help but think of how fond Steve sounds when Eddie's name comes up. This isn't the boy Eddie once spoke of. Albeit, it has been a long time since Eddie's spoken his name. Wayne isn't used to tigers changing their stripes though. It's a pleasant surprise he doesn't comment on.

Wayne rubs his thumb across Eddie's hand. "How did he get out? If he was practically dead?"

"Oh, I carried him Sir."

Wayne's head snaps to Steve. "What?"

Steve shrinks a bit, "Sorry I mean Wayne. Sorry I didn't mean to disrepe—"

Wayne cuts him off, "Dammit kid, I'm not mad at that. I'm not mad at all. It's just—you saved him. You carried him out of what I can only understand is what I think hell is, and you didn't think to mention that when I first saw you?" Wayne looks at Steve for a moment. Really looks at him. He's in clean jeans and a polo, but that's where his old persona ends. When Wayne looks at him closely, he can see the dark bags under his eyes, the purple bruising all over his body, and the angry red scar around his neck. Steve looks exhausted, physically and emotionally. Steve looks like a boy, desperately trying to be a man. He looks like a soldier after war.

"It's not a big deal. I did what anyone else would do."

Wayne shakes his head. "Steve. That's just the thing, I'm pretty sure no one else woulda done that. And even if they would, it doesn't make what you did any less important. So, thank you."

Steve's eyes mist a bit when Wayne says "it doesn't make what you did any less important." He looks away from Wayne and just nods.

"Okay?"

"Okay, Sir. Okay, Wayne."

---

When Eddie wakes a few days later, after a night of breathing on his own without the tubes, he interrupts Steve and Wayne's conversation on the Chicago Cubs, and says "Dad?"

Wayne is up in an instant, crowding his boy's face. "Oh, Eds. I am so glad yer alright. You scared me."

"Mmm sorry," Eddie mumbles nuzzling Wayne's chest. He then looks up towards Steve, who is watching the interaction between the two men. "Harrington?"

Steve leans forward on his elbows, and chokes out "I told you not to be cute."

Eddie giggles, his tears reflecting Steve's "Sorry big boy, can't help what you're born with."

Steve looks up at the ceiling with a wet laugh. It eventually turns into a deep sob. The only other time Wayne witnesses Steve break like this over the past few days is when he's reunited with Hopper. "You shithead, you're not allowed to be funny right now. Don't. Don't do that again. Okay? You really scared us." Wayne can hear Steve's unspoken you really scared me.

Eddie's tears are rushing down his face now. "I'm sorry Steve. I'm so sorry."

"You didn't do anything wrong. Just—next time, don't let there be a next time. Okay?" Steve's not making much sense to Wayne as he leans his head on Eddie's bed face down.

Eddie seems to get it though. He hesitantly strokes Steve's head with his fingers. "Okay, Stevie. I promise. Now, get some sleep. It's your turn, I've had enough."

Steve's shoulders sag as he gives in. Wayne shares a look with Eddie, and Wayne knows right there they have the same thought.

They've collected another stray.

———

When Eddie is home, Steve becomes a regular occurrence in their newly acquired government-funded house. He helps a lot the first month especially. Takes Eddie and the Mayfield girl to and from physical therapy. Cooks dinner on the nights Wayne works (which is most nights) and makes sure to have leftovers specifically labeled for Wayne. Keeps both Wayne and Eddie company when one of their stress becomes too much for the other. Steve's even there on the nights the nightmares get bad. Spends his time on the couch until Eddie wakes up screaming, and calms him back to sleep so Wayne doesn't worry about him at work. Or so Wayne can get a full night when he's off.

Steve's there so often enough, that when one night he isn't, Wayne's concerned.

"You're going to pace a hole into the floor boy." Wayne looks at Eddie in their living room from the couch. Wayne doesn't tell Eddie he's concerned too. Doesn't think it would help much.

"I'm sure he's just held up, or got plans Eds. Not like he was plannin' on coming here tonight."

Eddie stops and faces Wayne, biting his thumbnail instead. "Sure we didn't have plans. But Steve's been here every day for the past month Wayne. And when he hasn't he's called. I haven't heard from him in like 22 hours—" Wayne doesn't point out that Eddie did the actual math "—and that's weird. He doesn't do that. We don't do that."

Eddie's anxiety starts to seep into Wayne's. He can't help but think of the worst-case scenario. Car accident. A run-in with that Andy kid. His mind even jumps to when Eddie was in the hospital, and his stomach sinks. Wayne can't help it, he has grown attached to Steve.

"Why don't we call some of yer friends, yeah? Maybe they've seen your boy."

Eddie is so incredibly distressed and doesn't even rebuke Wayne calling Steve his like he usually does. "Yeah okay, good idea."

As Eddie reaches for the phone though, there is a light knock on the door. Eddie rushes to answer it.

"Steve thank god I was wondering—Oh my god sweetheart what happened?" Eddie drags Steve in and places him on the couch. It's then that Wayne sees him.

There on Steve's jaw, is a bruise the size of Indiana. Steve's eye is swollen, and he is breathing heavily while clutching his ribs. Wayne remains frozen and Eddie frets over Steve.

"Stevie, who did this? Where does it hurt? What can I do?"

"Eds I'm fine."

Eddie looks like he's about to yell but restrains himself. "You are most certainly not fine. Do not give me that look Harrington—"

"Oh I'm Harrington now."

"—Yes you are Harrington right now because only a Harrington would be this stubborn and ridiculous. Now tell me what happened and tell me what hurts."

Steve's resolve loosens slightly, and his head falls onto Eddie's shoulder. He lets out a painful whine, "My stomach. It—fuck—it hurts so bad Eds."

Eddie brushes his fingers through his hair and whispers to him gently. "It's okay baby, I got you."

Wayne realizes three things at once.

One, Wayne isn't sure Eddie has called Steve that before. He calls him names across the board. But baby isn't one of them. Wayne knows for a fact the two aren't together yet. They have been dancing along the line for a few weeks now. Wayne thinks about pushing the timeline along, but the boys don't seem to be there quite yet. This seems like a step in the right direction.

Two, in the past month and a half Wayne has gotten to know Steve, he realizes that the boy doesn't do well around older men. He flinches at every sudden movement Wayne makes, and won't even let him give him a pat on the back let alone a hug. Also in that time, Steve has barely gone home. Knows his parents didn't visit him at the hospital, but did come home two weeks later to make sure nothing is damaged from the earthquake. Assholes.

And three, Steve avoids the question as to what happened. Eddie seems to let it slide. Wayne doesn't give the same courtesy.

"Who did this?" Wayne says abruptly, startling Steve who seems to realize Wayne's presence only now.

"Wh-what?" Steve shakes.

"I'm not mad boy. But I'm not stupid. I know this ain't a what but a who. And I think we can both conclude who. But I'm going to ask you anyway. Who. Did. This?"

The last of Steve's resolve crumbles as Wayne puts a gentle hand on his shoulder. It is as if he hadn't known a gentle touch from a father before. Maybe he hasn't.

"My dad. He uh, we got into a fight last night. Found out how much time I was spending here, with Eddie, with the kids. He started saying how I was spending time with the wrong people. I tried to just nod and go upstairs because it was just easier to ignore him than fight him sometimes. Like what's he going to do right? He's only here a couple of days a year. But then he mentioned Robin and he called her a slur, and that said her kind was an abomination. And oh god I don't even know how he found that out Robs is going to be pissed she's been so careful—"

"Babe." Eddie squeezes Steve's hand.

"Right sorry, he just was going off about Robin. And it just set me off, I just lost it on him. How dare he talk about her that way? And I just told him that if he's got a problem with her, then he's got a problem with me too. And God Wayne, the silence that came after. It was like all the words had been sucked out of the room. Next thing I know he's grabbing me by the jaw and throwing me on the floor. And he just starts kicking me, screaming about how I am no son of his. I didn't know what to do. My mom just watched it all. I just laid there... I should have fought back—I—" Steve trails off trying to collect himself.

"When he was done he sent me to my room and told me to think about what I'm doing to this family. I just laid there all night and all day, just waiting for them to leave. I had to wait til they left for dinner tonight to get out. I can't—I can't go back there. Me and Robs were planning on moving in together next week, we made a deposit on this two-bedroom downtown, but I don't think I can spend another week there, and oh god, all my stuff is there. What have I done." Steve puts his head in his hands.

Eddie is crying with Steve by the end of it. Neither he nor Wayne comments on how Steve just came out to the both of them. It doesn't seem important at that moment. Wayne crouches down to eye level with Steve.

"You did nothing wrong. There is nothing wrong with you. You did what you had to do to survive, and even if you didn't it still wouldn't be your fault."

Wayne stands back to his full height. "Now, you can stay here until you and the bird girl have your place. Do not fight me on it. Anyway Steve, I know it's difficult right now. But I'm going to need you to let me know what you need from your house."

"What, why?"

Wayne just sighs, "I know you ain't stupid. Just tell me."

Steve seems hesitant but tells Wayne anyway.

He nods at both his boys when he speaks next. "You two stay put. I'll be back soon."

Steve and Eddie both look like they want to fight Wayne on it. Steve wants to stop him from leaving at all, and Eddie probably wants to stop him from going without him. They both smartly stay silent.

"Okay, Uncle Wayne."

"Okay, Wayne."

———

Later, Wayne comes back with three duffle bags and bruised knuckles.

Steve hugs him without a second thought.

———-

A few days pass and the three of them are in the kitchen when Eddie asks. "Did ya tell hop?"

Steve snorts in his coffee. "Hell no."

Wayne can't help his curiosity as he watches the both of them across the table.

"Steve, you have to tell Hop. He's going to find out anyway." Eddie pushes as he puts an ungodly amount of sugar in his coffee.

"No I don't. He'll just flip out, there is no good reason to tell him."

Eddie puts his hands on his hips. It reminds Wayne of Steve the past couple of times he's seen him around the kids. "I can think of one good reason. He's practically your dad. And I'm pretty sure your Dad would want to know what your old man did to ya."

Wayne can't help but hum in agreement. He knows if Eddie's old man comes around, he wants to be the first to find out.

Steve looks at Wayne briefly before saying, "No he's not. He's just like that with everyone."

"No, he's not. With El? Yea, that's his daughter. Maybe even Will. But not with anyone else. Except you. Why do you think I'm afraid of him?"

Steve gives him a look, "Cause he's an ex-cop Eds."

"Please that doesn't scare me. Didn't scare me when he was an actual cop either."

Wayne isn't sure that's entirely true. He remembers a very specific incident of Eddie tripping over his laces to get away from Jim.

Eddie carries on, "No, he scares me 'cause he's your dad, and I know he'll hang me by my toenails if I so much as make you cry. So yea, I think you should let him know. Besides, we both know he's going to be way more pissed when he finds out from literally anyone else. And we both know he will because you told Robin, who definitely told Nancy, who probably told Joyce, and you can see where I am heading with this."

Steve throws his head back and groans. "He's going to full government name me when he finds out."

Eddie lets out a manic giggle, "Ooo, you never told me what your full name is. Now you gotta tell me, Stevie."

Steve gives Eddie an exasperated look, "It's Steven James Harrington."

It's now Eddie's turn to groan. "Of course, you have his name. Well, I guess it's better than Richard. Hop must love that. Was kinda hoping you had my name or something."

Wayne makes a mental note to talk to Jim himself. Knows Steve will avoid it. But Wayne's got to make sure someone is looking after Steve when he can't. Wayne's been meaning to thank the man anyway. For all his done for Eddie. And now, for all he's done for Steve.

"Want me to make you feel better Eds?" Steve says with a smirk.

"Please. I'm not sure if I can go on any further with the torture of knowledge that contains your middle name."

"Hopper's middle name is Edward."

The scream of joy Eddie lets out nearly punctures what's left of Wayne's hearing.

———

By midsummer, the boys are an item. They haven't said anything to Wayne but he can tell. One day, the boys come back from their friend's weekly dinner holding hands. So they didn't have to tell Wayne. Not really.

It is just that, Wayne has gotten to know Steve Harrington over the past few months. He has gotten to know him as "Friend Steve" and "Brother Steve", and even after one intense game night, "King Steve". Wayne has a feeling though that "Boyfriend Steve" is different. As much as he likes the boy, his kid comes first. Wayne feels he needs to give Steve a talk.

The problem is he can't really give him a talk if neither of them has really told him. He has made that mistake once with Eddie, assuming, he won't be making it again.

So Wayne waits. And waits. And waits. And just as he is thinking he might never get the verbal confirmation from the two, he gets the image clear as day of what the two are on a Tuesday when he gets to go home early from work.

It's just not in the way he expects or wants.

Wayne can't really blame the boys. They didn't know Wayne would be coming home early, it was a surprise to Wayne himself. So they probably didn't think that anyone would be coming around the Munson household on Tuesday at midnight.

That doesn't make the situation any less scarring.

See, Wayne Allen Munson wasn't a god-fearing man. He can't be with what his Eddie had been through. But he can't help but think this is some sort of cosmic punishment when he gets home and hears moaning.

Wayne stands there in the foyer as a loud, "Yes baby just like that" and "Oh god, harder" and even the unfortunate "You're so tight, it's like you were made for me."

Wayne thinks god might be laughing at him. Wayne can't really go upstairs and stop them. They are both adults and he feels that having an image of what they are doing would be substantially worse than the noises.

Wayne decides to put some earplugs in (which thankfully cut off the noise, since his age made him half deaf anyway), sat in his armchair, and waits it out.

About an hour later (jesus an hour later) Steve comes downstairs to the kitchen in only his boxers. He doesn't seem to notice Wayne. His head is in the freezer when Wayne decides to clear his throat loudly.

Steve slams his head in fright and whips around with an icepack in his hand. "Oh shit."

"Oh shit is right."

All the color drains from Steve's face. "How much did you hear?"

Wayne appreciates that Steve cuts right to the chase. "Enough." He knows he can explain to the boy that he didn't really hear that much, and the earplugs are firmly in his hands as evidence, but he decides to torture Steve.

Just a little bit, can't have him too comfortable.

"I'm so sorry Mr. Munson, I—"

Wayne cuts him off. "No need to apologize, just as long as you boys are being safe that's all I care about. No that ain't what I want to talk to you about."

Steve visibly swallows as he sits across the counter from Wayne. "What about then?"

"Look, I'm awfully happy for the two of you. It's about time you boys got your shit together—"

Steve lets out a small laugh at the comment. Wayne continues. "—but I need to make things clear with you Steve. You hurt my kid, I hurt you. Eds has been through a lot. Not just with the whole spring break situation. I mean his whole life. He bounced around from place to place until he landed on my doorstep. He's used to giving his all, and not getting much in return. Eddie loves with his whole chest, and he doesn't know how to do it any other way. You better make sure you're worthy of it because I am not sure anyone is...including me. You're pretty damn close though, I know it. I can see it. You're a good person. But that boy is my whole world. I know where to hide a body if need be."

Wayne expects Steve to cower in fear, but instead, he smiles softly at him. "Don't worry. I'll dig the grave myself. I'll try my best not to hurt him, sir. I can't promise much, but I can promise I'll love him every day without fail."

"You tell him that yet kid?"

Steve shakes his head, "No. I think soon though sir."

Wayne nods feeling satisfied. "Good, and enough of this sir crap I thought we've been over this."

"Okay, Wayne."

"Better. Now, who's the ice pack for? You or him, because I don't want to have to grab the shovel outta the shed tonight."

Steve's blush spreads from his cheeks all the way down to his chest. "Uuuh, for me sir. I mean Wayne."

"Good. Go grab my son for me now will ya?"

Steve stutters, "Wh-what? Why?"

"Just go grab 'em."

Steve runs upstairs and brings down a smug-looking Eddie. Wayne's sure Steve gave him the rundown of what he heard, and Eddie doesn't appear to be ashamed like Steve had the smarts to do.

Little shit.

"Sorry Wayne didn't know you were home. Was that what you wanted to talk about?"

Wayne looks from Steve to Eddie, before narrowing his eyes at the latter. "Nope. It's your turn."

"My turn?" Eddie's confident face turns confused while Steve's flashes surprise.

"Yea kid your turn." Wayne contemplates for a second what to say, but knows in the end that Eddie will get the message loud and clear from one sentence alone.

"You hurt him—" Wayne turns to point at Steve, before facing Eddie again "—I hurt you. Got it?"

All the color drains from Eddie's face. That's the reaction he is looking for.

"Got it." Eddie grabs Steve's hand to make his way back upstairs. Before they are completely out of sight, Steve catches Wayne's eye. The boy looks softer than he did before. He looks like he wants to say something but settles on,

"Goodnight Wayne."

"Goodnight Steve."

———

Steve doesn't ask Wayne about that night until months later in October. Wayne is on the couch with a beer when Steve walks in (he has the key Eddie gave him in September). "Eddie's not here right now. Think he's running late with band practice."

"Oh I'm sorry. I can come back later." Steve stands awkwardly in the doorway.

"Don't be silly come sit. I'm just watching the game. It's no cubs considering they didn't make it far, but it's still a good game."

Steve nods and makes himself comfortable on the couch. Since spring break, Wayne and Steve have built a friendship of sorts. Steve still shows signs of apprehension in the first few seconds, but the conversation becomes an easy flow after a while. They usually talk about sports, cars, or cooking. All stuff Wayne enjoys but Eds won't show the slightest interest in. It's nice, to have someone to share this stuff with.

Today they mostly talk about the game on tv and Eddie's habit of running late. It's after a particularly funny joke about Eddie being late to his own birth that Steve asks, "Hey Wayne, can I ask you something?"

"Ya just did kid."

"God, you sound like Eddie."

Wayne chuckles, "Sure Steve. Shoot."

"Why did you talk to Eddie too? About the whole, hurting each other stuff? I mean Eddie's your kid, and I'm just the guy who gets to spend time with him." Steve waves his hands around, it reminds Wayne of Ed.

"Well, I love ya both," Wayne says easily while he takes a sip of his beer, like it isn't hard to say. And it isn't really. It was quite simple to Wayne. Just like Eddie, Steve might not be his kid by blood but he is close as he can come.

"Oh." Steve takes a deep breath, as if he is holding back tears, and says "Thanks, Wayne. I love you too."

Wayne almost mistakes the pain as Steve's voice as reluctance. The happiness that shines in his eyes says something else. Says he doesn't hear that from fathers very often. Says he hopes Wayne means it.

He does mean it.

Eddie walks in the doorway to find the two men silently staring at each other, and Steve close to tears. "Well hello there my lovely family how are—Wayne what did you do to Steve? Did you yell at him? I promise the bruise on my face was from dropping a wrench while trying to fix the van. Nothing else." Eddie pulls Steve up and squishes his face between his hands. "What did he say to you, baby?"

Steve shakes his head and laughs lightly at Eddie's antics. "Nothing bad. Promise. Happy tears."

"Happy tears?"

"Happy tears."

Eddie stares at him for long moment before deciding he believes him. "Okay. Okay. I relent." He grabs Steve's hand and throws a wave at Wayne. "Let's go upstairs though, I have to tell you about practice and how Gareth brought a boy with him! And you'll never believe what boy it was! It was our little baby Byers himself..."

Wayne hears Steve's gasp and Eddie's giggle as he continues on up the stairs. Wayne can't help the warmth that settles in his chest.

Because Wayne Allen Munson is lucky to have two wonderful boys. And he is even luckier that his two boys love each other. Because they deserve that and so much more.

———

Okay, it’s a lot I know. I just couldn’t resist. I wanted to write Steve and Wayne too. I think this one is less sad and more funny but I think that kind of speaks for the kind of relationship the two of them would have. Also it contains much more steddie than the last one. I’m thinking about maybe writing a part 3 with Steve’s relationship with the kids and how he’s their father figure? But for now it ends here. Also this took me like two days to write? I’m sorry for any mistakes or rushed parts. I am one woman show. Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed :)

Also I have finally posted on ao3!!! Can’t believe it, I’ve been so nervous about it especially because I am still without a beta. But this felt long enough to put there and I wanted to be able to share with more people.

access part. 1 here and ao3 here

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