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#small angst ending
2many-art · 1 month
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Fallen.
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decojellyfish · 5 days
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Hatchling.
Hi guys! Sorry it’s been a bit. I’ve been busy! Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated, and feel free to request anything!
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Dragon! Price x Baby Dragon! Reader x Werewolf! Soap (And a little bit of the whole hybrid crew :))
!!No Romance For Obvious Reasons!!
Angsty Fluff
Warnings: Death via gunshots
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───♡───────────── Beginning
It all started when Price found an abandoned egg on a mission. It must’ve fallen out of the nest, or perhaps the mother must’ve left it behind to protect it from predators or hunters. But he took the egg, holding it protectively with one burly arm while the other held a gun to keep both him and the egg as he retreated to the helo.
His task force members were screaming for him to hurry up, their faces having a tinge of confusion at the sight of their captain with a giant splotchy egg that seemingly appeared out of the blue.
“I had to.”
Was all Price said as he got settled into his seat, the egg resting in his lap with both his clawed hands holding it in place.
With this sudden, out-of-the-blue, parental instinct that Price had when it came to this mysterious egg, he was put on indefinite leave. He spoke about how it was a dragon egg, and that he couldn’t leave it behind. Not without a parent.
Now, here Price was. The egg was in a makeshift incubator, under a heating lamp, and cradled into a pile of neatly folded blankets.
He was in his foldout chair, reading a book, right next to the incubator. He would glance at the egg from time to time, wondering if he heard the little dragon inside of it shift around. He would even just have one of his hands rest a top of the egg, thumb gently stroking at the shell. He could faintly feel a little heartbeat inside of it.
It made him smile.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
Price’s mates visited from time to time, checking up on the egg, checking on him as well. It was still strange how Price suddenly wanted to become a dad and with someone else’s abandoned baby too.
Gaz, being a harpy, would sometimes bond with Price over the fact that both of their kinds laid eggs. Gaz would share tips on what his parents did with him while he was a little bird, and Price would share stories of what he was like when he first hatched.
Soap was fascinated by the egg, his ears perking up whenever he watched it move slightly. He would bark at Price in excitement, “Price!! It moved! It’s gon’ae hatch!!” His tail violently wagged as he watched.
“Nope, little one’s got a few more weeks, Soap.” Price chuckled as he walked over to his comrade.
But for now, it was just Price and the egg in this moment. On this day, when it happened. You hatched.
It was a few days after your estimated hatch date, so Price was extra alert. He was walking out of his bedroom, he had woken up not even 5 minutes ago when he heard a tiny crack, and then a little rustle. Before he heard a faint, muffled, and quiet chirp.
He snapped wide awake and practically ran over to the incubator. A tiny crack had appeared and it was slowly growing. He didn’t want to interfere, you had to hatch on your own unless there were complications.
“C’mon, little one… c’mon, you can do it…” he whispered as he watched the egg wiggle and move about as you began your journey of entering the world.
The crack got bigger and bigger, branching off into other cracks all over the egg before your little fist finally punched out of the egg. Price nearly grinned from ear to ear at the sight, and waited for the rest to come.
Then the rest of your arm was pushed out, then your two feet kicked a good portion of the egg off of you. And that’s when you really began to wiggle and squirm about to get that damn egg off of you!
Price chuckled at the sight of your kicking legs and flailing tail as you tried to get the rest of the egg off of your upper body. Soon, you tore the eggshell away from yourself and you revealed yourself to the new world around you. Covered in membranes, blood, and other fluids that your egg held throughout your development. Now, Price took this moment to gaze at what a perfect little dragon you were.
You were scaly, like him, only your scales were a shade of coral red. Your tiny wings, still folded into your back, had little talons at the tips. Your horns were tiny, so tiny, barely budding out of your head from your slimy skin. You lay there, curled up and exhausted from the exercise you had to endure. Your eyes closed, and your tail tucked in around your body.
He stared at you for a bit, mesmerized. You were a beautiful baby, peaceful and comforted by the soft blankets and warmth of your heating lamp.
Price would reach for you, gently taking your little frame into his large, calloused hands. You squeaked at the sudden feeling of his sandpaper-like fingers. But as he pulled you to his chest, keeping you curled up and tucked away into his big arms, you adjusted yourself to the new source of warmth.
A little purr left your throat, your heartbeat syncing up to the one that held you. You accustomed yourself to the smell, the scent of protection, warmth, and safety. Your father.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
It had been a few years now, you were still tiny but were now able to toddle around. Which meant you were able to follow your father around wherever he went in the house.
Price would be in the laundry room, unloading the dryer when he would feel a pair of tiny, chubby hands grasp at his tail followed by the sound of your sweet giggles. Or if he was in the kitchen, preparing dinner for that night, he would eventually feel your tiny form hugging his calf. He had grown accustomed to this, it meant you wanted to be held.
As you had grown, so did your wings, tail, and horns. Your horns were slightly curling back toward your head, kind of like a ram, and you had gotten into the habit of incessantly flapping your wings as you tried to fly. To no success.
But your father would always hype you up whenever he saw you doing it, cheering for you even if you weren’t able to lift yourself off the ground even a little bit.
“Maybe next time, sweetpea. I know you can do it.”
His mates loved visiting even more now after you’d hatched. Soap would playfully chase you through the halls of the house, letting you pet and hug his fluffy tail. Gaz would try and teach you to fly, desperately trying to get you to watch him as he flapped his wings. Only for you to get distracted with something else and immediately toddle off to get a closer look.
Even Ghost liked being around you. He would hold you and pretend that you were flying around, calling you a ‘little chopper’. He would even tolerate you being a curious little one, who would tug his mask off and put it on your head. Only for it to be way too big and completely hide your face.
With you being a little more grown than when you were a fresh hatchling, that meant that Price was able to return to service. He had a nanny already in place for you, and of course, you loved her. She was Price’s neighbor from across the street, she was a harpy. That also meant that you would still get your flying lessons in while he was away.
When he was testing the waters with you and the nanny, he was more worried about being away than you were. He would only return to service for a week or two, small missions, just to make sure he could come back home to you as fast as possible.
Every time he returned home, he would find you playing with the nanny or sleeping on the couch. Either way, when you saw him after he returned home, you would squeal loudly and run up to him and nonverbally beg for a hug. In which he would happily oblige, holding you tight and petting your little head.
After a few months, getting the routine down of being away for a bit and returning to your smiling face, knowing you were safe and sound, Price began to go on longer missions, mostly lasting for a month or two.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
Gunshots rang out throughout the battlefield, with no intention of stopping. Price ducking for cover behind a cracked, decaying wall. Moss beginning to grow on it from the floor, tiny white flowers blossoming from it. He looked at it, a smile flashing upon his face as it reminded him of you. That smile was quickly wiped off of his face when he heard a few members of the enemy team approaching. He held his gun near his chest, ready to fire.
He eventually turned around the corner and began to fire at the men, his teeth grinding against each other in his closed mouth. He didn’t stop firing until they dropped to the ground, dead, despite the sudden throbbing pain in his chest and abdomen.
Once he knew they were dead, he was finally able to feel the pain in full force. He dropped to his knees and leaned up against the wall he was previously hiding behind. His hands clutched at the areas he felt the pain, only for him to pull his hands away and see the blood that coated his gloves.
He had been shot in the stomach and chest. Close to his heart, too.
He reached for his radio, desperately calling for any of his men or a medic, his other hand clutching at one of the bullet holes in his abdomen. He let go of his radio and used the other hand to put pressure on the hole in his chest. He tried to control his breathing, feeling like his entire body was on fire.
Soon rapid footsteps could be heard approaching, and a familiar werewolf entered Price’s line of sight.
“Price! Price! Holy shit, don’t die on me, you bastard!” Soap barked at him as he dropped down to his knees to try and help him.
He held him in his arms, barking out into the field for any kind of help.
Soap looked down at him, seeing Price’s eyes grow tired and weak, similar to his breath which was short. The dragon reached a shaky hand up and gripped at Soap’s arm.
“Y-You… take- care of my- gh…my little one…that’s an-… order…” he choked out, blood filling his lungs with every second.
“N-No, I can’t! They- they need you! I’m no dragon!” Soap tried to control the shake in his voice, but the burning lump in his throat made it near impossible.
“Soap… ‘m not gonna make it…Soap… y-you… and the boys… t-take care of them…o-…okay…?” Price coughed, a bit of blood spitting up from his mouth and onto his tactical vest.
Soap stared down at him, trying everything he could to blink back his tears before he slowly began to nod. “Yes, sir… I’ll make sure the wee one never forgets their papa either…” he said through sniffles.
Price would smile, weakly, before a long, breathy exhale left his throat and he slowly went limp.
“Price? Price?? John!?” Soap called out to the lifeless captain that rested in his arms. It was then that Ghost and Gaz were finally able to get to Price’s spot.
Ghost stared at Price’s body, trying to process the fact that this was actually happening. Gaz could already feel the tears stinging at his eyes, witnessing the lifeless body of his mentor who was practically a father figure to him in a small sense. He covered his mouth before turning around and holding his head in his hands, muttering small curses under his breath.
Soap would let out a shaky sigh, reaching for his radio.
“Watcher 1, this is Bravo 7-1. Bravo 0-6 is KIA.”
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
Soap never thought he would ever approach Price’s home with such dread. The feeling of horror and anxiety locked into the pit of his stomach as he went up the steps of the front door.
He held his fist up and knocked on the door. His ears would slightly twitch when he heard, on the other side of the door, the sound of tiny footsteps rapidly approaching the door. Followed by more urgent ones, along with the voice of your nanny laughing at your urgentness.
She would open the door, but soon noticed that Price wasn’t there. “Oh, hello. You're one of Price’s friends, right?” Soap would nod before being interrupted by a tiny dragon hopping up and down.
“Untle Johnny!! Untle Johnny!” You called out excitedly, your wings fluttering rapidly to fly up to him. But only lifting yourself up about a centimeter off the ground. He looked down at you and soon slapped a bit smile on his face.
“Agh, look a’ you! Already flyin’??” He chuckled and rubbed your head. Before he looked back up at the nanny, his smile slightly weakened as his voice softened. You didn’t need to hear that your father was dead. Your little ears didn’t deserve such ugly words.
Your nanny’s face turned to one of horror, sadness, and shock. You noticed and soon began to climb up on her to wipe at her eyes. She noticed and held you in her arms.
“Don cry!” You squeaked out, your little hand rubbing at her face. “Why you cry?” She looked at you, a solemn look on her face. Soap looking at you the same way. “Just… some people leave our lives too soon, sweetie.” Your nanny spoke softly, petting at your hair. “Why dey leave?” “‘Cuz it’s their turn to go to heaven.” Soap spoke up. “Tha’s where your daddy is. Heaven.”
Soap knew damn well that Price wouldn’t be in heaven with the atrocities he’s done throughout his military career. But no toddler needs to hear that their father is suddenly in hell for murdering people.
“Will daddy come back?” You asked, blinking your eyelids over your big, innocent eyes. Soap and the nanny glanced at each other, Soap being the one to take a small, sharp inhale.
“No, lil one… when daddy goes to heaven, daddy stays in heaven…” “Why?”
“Because he has to take care of his own mum up there, but that means he can’t stay here… so he sent me, and uncle Simon and uncle Kyle to keep you safe. But, you need to always remember this, lil one…” “What?”
“He loves you. Forever and ever.”
───♡───────────── End
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raccoonwxrks · 2 months
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This idea is stupid but I had a stupid nostalgic feeling while listening to 80s music so here we go ✌️
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imfinereallyy · 1 year
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Eddie grew up as a creature of the night. It was to no one’s surprise really. The day was exhausting but the night was always full of this chaotic energy that he loved. The night was mysterious and other, the wonders of it still unexplored.
Eddie felt one with the night. He made friends with the moon and the stars. And although there were times that would pass where he could not see them, where there was nothing but the inky abyss, he knew they were still there. Hidden but never gone.
It started when he was young, his love of night. Eddie thought it had probably started when he was just a boy. Dumped his Uncle Wayne’s doorstep. He had been terrified, whisked away by a father on the run just as dusk brushed against the horizon. They had made it to Wayne’s trailer precisely as the evening settled into its peak. Eddie’s father hadn’t even bothered knocking. Just left Eddie on the porch with one backpack and a buzzed head. And Eddie waited there for a moment, looked up at the sky and thought it wasn’t that lonely with stars out.
His wondering mind was interrupted by Wayne pulling the door open and yanking Eddie inside no questions asked. The night was when Wayne had given Eddie a home.
As the years past, his fascination with night only grew stronger. It helped bring people closer to him. Eddie interpreted the night into campaigns, songs and even advice for the kids (lots of night metaphors for failed dating lives). He got most of his work done at this time. His mind coming alive and bursting with ideas. Wayne’s schedule was at night too. So when he worked, Eddie shared odd meals with his old man. And when Wayne was off, his brain like Eddie’s ran with the schedule of the moon.
The night also helped Eddie learn to be okay with being alone. Late night drives. Walks in the woods. Stargazing from a picnic bench. All things he had learned to enjoy his own company while doing.
It wasn’t that he didn’t like they day per say, or the sun. It’s just that Eddie had found the day boring. There was no wonder, no lust, no mystery. There was no appeal. The world was too bright, too open. There was no exploring and there was no comfort. Just exposure.
Then Eddie met Steve Harrington officially. Well, officially for the first time after everything. After the High School bullshit. After the wild adventures of the (please god never again) Upside down. When Eddie met Steve officially, in his hospital room, he is baffled to find him awake at 6 am, with a smile on his face.
And all Steve said was, “Glad you made it to actually see another sunrise.”
Like it was nothing. Like at of all the things that had blown Eddie’s mind the past week, or even more specifically out of all the things Eddie had learned about Steve Harrington, the thing that absolutely floored Eddie was the fact the Steve Harrington was a morning person.
It shouldn’t had bothered him so much. It wasn’t like he had been planning on become friends with the guy. But then he did, and Eddie couldn’t help but spiral.
Because no one should like the day as much as Steve did. Sure, Eddie was most definitely being a hypocrite. Like he had proclaimed himself as the goblin king of night once (although very drunk on Nancy’s whiskey), and Eddie prided himself on being a freak and accepting of everyone. So it was probably unfair of him to judge but this was excessive.
The day was everywhere when it came to Steve. He woke up early. He laid out in the backyard against the pavement. Steve would ask Eddie to go chase dawn with him on an early morning drive. It was in Steve’s wardrobe for Christ sake. That yellow sweater haunted his dreams, and Steve looked so good in it, and Eddie can’t help but stare—
The day was everywhere when it came to Steve Harrington.
And Eddie was damn fool who fell in love with him.
Eddie had fallen for the unattainable. The straight boy. His best friend. The guy who picked him up from a bad date in Indie no questions asked. The guy who shared a bed with him after plenty of nightmares. The guy who listened. The guy who cared.
The King and the Freak. The day to his night. The absolutely, infuriatingly opposite of what Eddie is allowed to like, allowed to have.
It had gotten so bad, that Eddie, when he couldn’t sleep and Steve wasn’t around, found himself whispering to the night about him. Told it how although Steve and the night didn’t meet very often, Eddie was certain it would love him anyway.
Eddie knew Steve was just as baffled by Eddie’s love of the darkness.He had asked once how he could stand it.
“Don’t the nightmares make you hate it? The lack of sleep alone makes me hate it, and that’s not even when I remember what the upside down looked like. No light, only hazy red darkness? Not for me man. Never again.” Steve had said while they passed a joint.
“I don’t know man, it’s not the nights fault really. Like it doesn’t matter the time of day, I still get nightmares. It’s not the night’s fault the Upside Down exists, and what it looks like. I guess I feel a solidarity with the night now. Even more than I did before. Something being blamed for simply being there. A scapegoat.” Eddie leaned into Steve’s side as he sunk further into the couch. He kinda feared he had said the word night too much in his speech.
Steve stared at Eddie for a moment, something of understanding passed on his face. “Actually, that kind of makes sense. I kinda expected you to talk in weird metaphors to explain it—“
“I still got stars wars analogy up my sleeve.”
Steve pushed on and ignored Eddie, “—but I get it. Like the night, you’re a reminder to people of the bad things that happen even if you’re just there, just existing…It’s complicated, and beautiful and very weird. Just like you”
Eddie didn’t hold back the smile when he said “Steve Harrington, are you calling me beautiful?”
“Yes I am.”
They stared at each other for awhile, no words spoken. It should had unsettled Eddie, or even spark useless hope in him. It didn’t though.
It just made him feel content. Good. Home.
He never felt the need to explain the night to Steve again.
Weeks later, Eddie learned why the day was good too. It was another night spent in Steve’s bed when the nightmares built up for days, with no end in sight. For once Eddie had woken up first. Steve’s head on Eddie’s bare chest. Eddie’s fingers combed through his soft hair, and he hummed softly to nothing but the dawn. The sunrise had started to slowly peak into Steve’s room. Because of course, even the day started towards Steve.
Steve’s eyes had fluttered open unhurriedly. Then he tilted his head up towards Eddie and did something that changed him forever.
Eddie expected him to freak out. For Steve to push him away in horror. To scream, and hit Eddie even. They had shared a bed before but it had never been that intimate. And Eddie knew his face wasn’t hiding any of his feelings either. Eddie, like the night, was only a mystery to those who didn’t know what to look for. And Steve always knew what to look for.
Steve did none of that though. Instead, Steve reached up slowly, brushed his lips across Eddie’s cheek and said, “Good morning, darling.”
Eddie felt his whole body stop and revive back to life in that instant. He died and became a new person. And then Steve, Steve took it even further when he laid back down on Eddie’s chest, without breaking eye contact, and beamed up at him.
Eddie now understands why Steve loved the day. It was because Steve loved the sun. And when Steve smiles at him, Eddie can’t help but think that Steve was the sun. And how Eddie loved the sun too.
Eddie couldn’t be stopped from kissing him in that movement.
Eddie kissed Steve like the morning. Slow, warm, and just as meaningful. There was no rush. It was waking up in comfort. Eddie had always imagined that if he ever got to kiss Steve it would be as chaotic and harsh as the night.
Eddie couldn’t find it in himself to want it in any other way in that moment. It made Eddie ache. It was sincere. It was sweet. It was devout.
Eddie leaned back to take a breath as he said, “Good morning, sunshine.”
———
this is my first stab at writing something eddie centric, so sorry if it’s rough, but it did come straight from the heart. I had fun writing it (as usual at 2 am, which is really in line with this narrative i now realize). It was fun to kinda project my own feelings do the day v night debate. I’m a night owl, and I love all things that come with it. But there is something so comforting about daylight and the warmth of the sun. <3
send me something to write next. :)
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plutoispurplw · 3 months
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୨୧The story of Us ୨୧
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Summary: Reader and Timothee!Wonka are having relationship problems and reader is questioning is this is the end of the story of them.
Words: 1K
Couple: Timothée!Wonka x Female reader
A/N: I only did this one shot because three things.
1- Two Days ago the light in my house was gone.
2- The request of @riordanness
3- I love Taylor Swift, you can count how many times I write a name of a song or a lyric.
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My relationship with Willy was great, we we're crazy in love with each other, he was always affectionate like it was our last day alive. He was the love of my life and I knew it. I know it sounds bad but he is the only person or thing that I ever needed, It was like he convert darkness into daylight.
Our personalities were the opposite, I never had hope in people before I met him, always prepared to be stabbed by close people, nothing calm my racing thoughts, always overthinking, I felt haunted so I leave my tired hometown just to discover that I was the problem.
He was the sun and I was the moon.
When I met him after being trapped by Scrubbit, I felt more helpless that I ever felt but then I met him, three days later after I arrived, he become my best friend and then my lover, I always help him to sell his chocolates, and I stay with him after my debt was paid, he was my daylight.
The work of managing the fabric and his store had him tired all the time and stressed out and that when it happen, our bedroom that was our secret oasis become a battle ground, this was a war that neither of us could end without fighting over and over again.
The only thing I could thought before falling asleep was that if this was the end of the story of us. The fairytale was slowly dying and I couldn't bear witness it.
How long can we still be a sad song? How long the silence would last until one of us leave? I didn't even remember the last time we kissed, or cuddle, or even talk in a affectionate way.
One night I was exhausted of this, I need to feel again his caress and his lips against my collarbone, we were laying on the bed, the silence was still there, I got more closer to him and I try to hug him but he only pull away from my hold and got up from the bed.
I finally explode like a volcano. "I'm tired, why are you avoiding my touch or hugs like I'm something poisonous!" I yell at him while being sat on my knees on the bed.
"Stop, I don't wanna fight tonight, just stop."
He said with a very annoyed tone, his hands running through his hair.
"I'm tired of the silence, I miss when you cuddle with me while whispering sweet nothings against my hair." Tears streaming down my face, memories replaying like broken records. I got up from the bed and walk towards him. "I know that you're stressed out and that you don't wanna fight but we have to fight, if we keep like this out love is gonna die."
"You adore to fight, don't you? You're always want to fight." His voice sound more frustrated, his eyes fill with a anger I never seen before in him, maybe he was like the rest of the people after all.
"This is the last time we fight and I'm gonna go away, this is your last chance to give me a reason to stay because you're losing me."  He stay quiet and didn't say anything, I just change my clothes and pack my things, he didn't do anything to stop me, I wish he would.
When I leave the house, I went to a friend's house, the whole way day I was crying, did I ever meant something to him for him to try to fight for me. I stay the night there waiting for him to come but then days pass and then one week and then became almost a month without seeing him.
This is how the things end? My love story never got they happy ending? It was my fault? I was the problem in this situation too? Thoughts like this filled my mind before falling asleep, my dreams filled with memories of him.
That day I needed to get more clothes and things so I went to our house, when I came into our bedroom I saw him seeing the ceiling, the room look messy, his expression full of sadness when he He saw me, he got up from the bed and walk towards me.
He look like he wanted to talk but how we could talk without screaming at each other? Without yelling that was the others fault. The problem was that I was bleeding and I could just runaway and live but my heart wanted to stay, to try to resolve things even if I bleed more, even if I died.
"I'm sorry, I should fight or talk with you but I couldn't, I didn't want our love to die but in the end that's what happen." I started to cry, part of me wanted just to kiss him but I was still hurt.
"If you don't want to forgive me, don’t do it but please just understand that I love you and that I never wanted to lose you, why would I? You're perfect and you're the love of my life, since I meet you I meet you that day, I knew that it was fate that brought us together." Tears falling from his eyes, his eyes full of sadness, the happiness and daylight was almost gone.
I don't know who did it first but we were hugging each other like we would die if we didn't, my face against his chest wetting his shirt. He whispering apologies against my hair, his hands caressing my back as I cry.
I pull away to see his face, he was crying too, I stood on my tiptoes, my hands cupped his face and pull him closer to close the gap between our lips, when they touched it feel like heaven. The battleground was back again our secret oasis.
This wasn't the end of the story of us, it was just the start of another chapter in our fairytale
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Some doodles
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roomy-ghosted · 8 months
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My feelings towards ao3 this morning.
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entry41 · 4 months
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"Stu," Billy's strained voice calls out as his partner in crime, Stu Macher, crawled closer to him. Their breaths were both shaky, bodies weak as Stu grabbed onto Billy.
"Billy," Stu grabbed Billy's face, holding his cheeks gently in his blood covered, calloused hands, "Billy, I love you." He said quietly, a stray tear falling down his cheek. He stared into Billy's eyes, nearly getting lost in them.
The two laid there in an embrace, quiet 'I love you's leaving one another's mouth, Stu planting a gentle kiss on Billy's lips, his body becoming increasingly weaker.
They were dying, there was no other explanation. This was the end, they would die knowing they couldn't of ever loved one another.
Billy grasps Stu's hands in his, placing Stu's hands over his own heart, letting him feel the beating slowly stop. "I love you, too, Stu." Billy replied with his last breath, falling limp.
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honeylations · 1 year
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- “I Love You For You, Ryu” -
Prompt: Ryujin gets dumped by her ex girlfriend, and you give your absolute best to help her get back on her feet. Little did she know was that you were trying to fight your own feelings from having Ryujin all to yourself.
Warning(s): g!pRyujin, sad Ryu :( , heartbreak, happy ending, smut ;)
🍿🥤
———
It was 3:15am at your shared dorm with the girls. Yeji, Lia, Chaeryeong and Yuna were asleep in their bedrooms while you sat alone in the living room, waiting for Ryujin to come home. You knew you had schedules early in the morning but for some reason, your body refuses to sleep until the one member was with you in your shared room.
Ryujin told you earlier on that day that she was meeting up with her girlfriend, Karina from Aespa. No one knew about their secret relationship besides your group and their group, promising to keep your mouths shut until the two girls make it public themselves.
Ryujin had also told you about how rough her relationship was going with the Aespa member. Unfortunately Karina was not as supportive on finding out about Ryujin’s opposite-genitalia secret. She even tried to convince Ryujin to get surgery to make her a ‘proper woman”. It made your blood boil and also hurt your heart that your bestfriend (and love of your life) still decided to stay with her when you were right there, willing to give your whole soul to Ryujin.
You knew she wouldn’t love you back. She only saw you as a friend, a bestfriend, a sister, a group member. Although Ryujin had never confirmed that to you, your anxiety was speaking for you.
Your body straightened from the sound of the main door being unlocked, making you stand up quickly and speed walk to the door. You were about to scold the older member for being out so late but you froze upon seeing her look so…broken.
Ryujin’s eyes were red and puffy, face stained with tears, her hair a little ruffled, and she was sniffling behind her black mask. She looked at you with no colour in her eyes which you’re not used to.
She was known to be such a bright person, always smiling and giving the effort to make others smile too.
This wasn’t the Ryujin you knew.
She took off her mask and threw it to the side carelessly, shoving her hands into her pockets. “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you” She mumbled with a voice that shattered your heart even more.
You opened out your arms and sighed. “Come ‘ere, gorgeous girl”
Lips quivering, she ran into your arms and broke down crying. You couldn’t quite decipher what she was saying between her cries but you did hear one sentence clearly.
‘I hate myself, Y/n’
Whatever Karina did to her, you were surely willing to run over to their dorm and smack the shit out of her.
“Hey let’s go to our room, how does that sound?” You softly whispered, running your fingers through her short hair.
You felt her nod and she allowed you to lead her weak body upstairs where you found the rest of your members, now awake. Oops.
“Hey it’s past 3am what’s- oh my god Ryu what’s wrong?!” Lia panicked, trying to make the girl face her but the crying member could only bury her face deeper into your neck, hugging you tighter.
“I think Ryu only wants Y/n right now. Let’s give them some space” Yeji spoke, her hand rubbing Ryujin’s back softly.
“Go on Y/n. I’ll check up on you two tomorrow morning” The leader continued to say in which you nodded and finally got Ryujin into your shared bedroom, locking the door behind you.
“Sit on the bed, darling. I’ll get some comfier clothes for you” You told her.
She didn’t respond. Her eyes stared blankly into the floor as she was seated on the bed, slowly taking her shoes off.
You went to her closet and came back with grey sweatpants and a baggy white T-shirt, helping her get changed. You got her to lie down and you pulled her quilt over her curled body. You kissed her forehead and ran your fingers through her hair one more time. “Sleep this off for now, okay? We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t-“
“She broke up with me” The older finally spoke.
“What?”
“Lie down with me please, Y/n. I don’t want you to go too..”
You knew this wasn’t good for your heart but for Ryujin, you’d do anything so you got under the sheets and allowed the taller girl to lie her head on your chest and hug your waist. You continued caressing her back, knowing it helped her relax and you smiled upon hearing her sigh with relief.
“I’m not going anywhere, Ryu. Tell me what happened”
“The moment I went to her dorm, I cooked us dinner and the whole time we ate, I knew something was off with her. She wasn’t smiling, she didn’t give me any affection, and she didn’t even call me by our usual nicknames”
“Were her other members not there?”
“They were at their family’s house apparently so we were alone”
“Mhm. What happened next?”
Ryujin sighed. “That’s when she told me she wanted to break up. At first I thought it was because I wasn’t being good enough as a girlfriend but she said she didn’t want to be with someone born with a penis..She even said that if I truly loved her, I would get it cut off”
“That bitch..” You said under your breath, pinching the bridge of your nose.
“I was trying to explain to her that I liked the way I am but the more she insulted me, the more I started second guessing myself” Ryujin said as she started to cry again, you hugged her tighter.
“Oh Ryu, I’m so so sorry that happened to you. If Karina truly loved you, she wouldn’t have cared about what you were born with. It just showed how worthless she was. You deserve so much better and don’t ever think that you have to change yourself over some idiotic girl. Don’t do anything that will make you unhappy, okay?”
Ryujin sniffed and nodded, her glossy eyes looking into yours.
“You’re the most talented, most gorgeous, most handsome, most perfect person I know. I’m more than happy to tell you that again and again” You smiled, wiping her tears away with your thumb.
“You’re the bestest friend anyone could ever ask for” Ryujin smiled back at you.
“I know”
“I’m sorry for keeping you up this late”
“You don’t have to apologise for anything. But I’ll tell you what I want you to do from now on..”
Ryujin nodded, letting you know she was listening.
“Show everyone that you’re better than what Karina says. Even better, show her that you want to be you. It’ll anger her so much seeing how happy you are”
“Okay..” She said softly, her eyes slowly falling.
“You better have listened to what I just said sleepy head” you giggled.
She tiredly smiled at you before falling asleep, her little snores making you laugh more. You kissed her head again. “Goodnight Ryu….
I love you” You whispered the last part. “And I’d treat you so much better than Karina if you let me”
———
It’s been a few months since Ryujin’s breakup and you ensured that you were with her every step of the way in healing, even though you were hurting in the process.
She seemed to be better now, finally going out and eating proper meals. She’d smile and laugh from time to time but she always stuck by your side which the other members had noticed.
Your whole group decided to have a night out at a pretty restaurant, using it as a time to reward yourselves for your hard work. You were all dressed nicely aswell, Yuna being the silly girl she was and forced everyone to wear black as the colour theme.
“Who’s funeral are we attending Yuna?” Lia joked, making the youngest playfully slap her shoulder.
“Black is a sexy colour! And tonight we are the stars of our own show” She winked, making you all laugh.
You, Chaeryeong and Lia sat on side of the table while Ryujin, Yeji and Yuna sat on the other side. You were lucky enough to have Ryu in front of you and she was looking hotter than ever. She was wearing a black button up long sleeve with black business pants and black shoes. She took the colour theme seriously.
You on the other hand was wearing a strapless black silk dress that reach just above your knees and it hugged your figure nicely. Yeji had already ordered the food for you all and as you were waiting, a group of girls entered the restaurant, making all of your heads turn. It was Aespa and one other girl that was holding hands with Karina.
You looked at Ryujin and she had her jaw and fists clenched while looking away. You felt yourself tense as the group approached you, Karina smirking with the girl in her hand. “Hey Itzy, funny seeing you here”
“It’s a restaurant after all. Anyone’s allowed to be here” You responded with a cold tone, sending a bitchy smile to the speaking girl.
Karina rolled her eyes. “Anyways this is Jooyeon, she’s a music producer for YG entertainment. She’s also my girlfriend, just putting that out there”
“We don’t remember asking” Yuna responded, making Yeji tap her under the table.
“Hey Ryu long time no see. Got a girlfriend yet?” Karina spoke to Ryujin who clenched her jaw tighter.
“Why do you care?” She growled. You held both of her hands and rubbed your thumbs across them, sending her a reassuring smile to hopefully calm her down.
You felt your heart swell as Ryujin smiled back.
“Oh don’t tell me” The Aespa member laughed, confusing you all.
“What?”
“I didn’t think you’d actually date Y/n. You couldn’t find any other girl so you had to go for your own member” Karina continued to laugh.
You were about to correct her that you and Ryujin weren’t (sadly) dating but Ryujin spoke up before you. “Yeah I chose Y/n cuz fortunately she doesn’t have the bitchy rat disease that you have. And hey, how’s that treatment for your yeast infection going?”
Everyone gasped as Lia choked on her wine.
“Fuck you Shin. Let’s go girls” Karina spoke, dragging the rest of her girls to their table.
“Ryu, we can go to a different restaurant if you want” Lia offered while cleaning the mess she made.
“No it’s fine. I want to be here with yous” She smiled.
“Does Karina actually have a yeast infection?!” Chaeryeong snorted, going red from laughter.
“Yeah. I didn’t mean to use it to insult her but she was really getting on my nerves. She’s so worried about what’s in my pants that she needs to worry more about the fiasco happening in her’s” Ryujin chuckled, not realising you and her were still holding hands.
“So…you two are dating?” Yeji questioned with a smirk.
Your eyes went wide as you pulled your hands back, face going red as a tomato. “N-No! Ryujin just said that get Karina off her ass!”
Ryujin pulled her hands back with disappointment that you didn’t seem to see, her smile slowly fading.
The food finally arrived and your group ate happily, finally getting peace and satisfaction you needed from your hard work.
———
Back at the dorms, you and the members bid each other goodnight but you and Ryujin didn’t plan on sleeping just yet. The older member was sitting at the edge of her bed, clearly filled with thoughts, looking cute in her blue plaid pyjamas.
“What’s on your mind, Ryu?” You asked, placing the book you were reading aside. You were in a matching pink plaid pyjama in which your roommate insisted to wear.
“Come with me to the balcony, Y/n. I wanna talk”
“Sure”
Following the member to the balcony, your eyes were blessed by the gorgeous view of the city lights and the stars in the sky. Ryujin was resting her arms on the railings while looking down. You stood next to her, eyes admiring her gorgeous side profile.
“What is it Ryu?”
“I wanna apologise for kinda putting you on the spot back at the restaurant when Karina came. I panicked and I didn’t know what else to do” She explained, still making eye contact with the city night.
“Hey don’t be sorry! Plus, it felt nice seeing her tremble”
“There’s one thing I need you to know though, Y/n” Ryujin spoke softly, facing you and looking deep into your eyes.
“W-What’s that?” You mentally cursed yourself for stuttering.
The taller girl held both of your hands again just like at the restaurant and pulled you closer. “I wasn’t faking anything”
You were speechless, mouth slightly parted in shock. Were you hearing her right?”
“The few months of me trying to find my source of healing…trying to find my answer to love..was right in front of me” She whispered, eyes flicking from your lips to your eyes. “I also didn’t tell you the full truth on why Karina broke up with me”
You tilted your head. “Wait what”
“During the whole argument at her dorm, she was rambling on about how our relationship seemed closer than whatever I had with her. That’s why she’s quite sour with you. I was trying to defend myself about everything she was saying but it was slowly making me realise that my feelings for you were much clearer. Whenever I was asked about my future, I’d think of you. Whenever someone asked me who I saw myself being with for the rest of my life, I instantly said you”
“Ryujin..”
“I’m sorry for being so oblivious. The whole time you were trying to help me forget Karina, I didn’t realise I was hurting you in the process. I’m so so sorry, baby”
“Wait you knew I liked you?” You questioned, trying to ignore how fast your heart was beating.
“Yuna accidentally let it slip yesterday”
“For god’s sakes Yuna” you mumbled, looking away with a frown, already plotting a way to get her for that.
But all of that was forgotten when Ryujin made you face her again with the tip of her finger on your chin. “You’re my healing, Y/n. And I’m forever grateful that you were with me this whole time.”
She made you wrap your arms around her neck as she held your waist, lips getting closer to yours.
“R-Ryujin, a-are you sure you want this?”
“I’ve never been more sure in my entire life. You’re my everything, Y/n. Let me be yours too…please, baby” She said, feeling her breath against your lips.
Saying nothing back, you made the move in connecting your lips, thanking the Gods for finally letting you have Shin Ryujin. Your crush. The love of your life. The girl you wanted from the very start.
You pulled away, giggling at how Ryujin slightly leaned in for more. “I’ve always wanted you, Ryu”
“Well now you have me. All of me”
“I love you so much Ryujin”
“And I love you too. Always and forever” She kissed you again, hugging your waist tighter. “Let me prove that to you tonight please”
You went red, knowing what she was implying but there was no way you were turning down this opportunity. “Go on then handsome”
You were already wet at her smirk as she dragged you to your bedroom, pushing you on her bed. You looked up at her as she unbuttoned her pyjama top and throwing it to the side, showing her abs that look like they’ve been carved by the gods.
“You’re staring, baby” she said with a husky voice.
“Can’t help it when my girlfriend looks irresistible” You don’t know where the confidence came from by Ryujin clearly enjoyed it.
And oh how amazing it felt to finally claim Ryujin as your girlfriend.
She hovered about you and got you to remove both your top and bottoms, leaving you almost naked. Just covered in a matching white lace set.
“You’re so sexy” Ryujin whispered, capturing your lips desperately before moving her way to your neck, sucking gently.
A lewd noise escaped your mouth as she hit a certain spot at your pulse point, making her cock get painfully harder. She sucked at that spot until a purple mark formed, pulling away and admiring her art work. “Beautiful”
She sat up on her knees, letting you see her abs again and also the huge tent in her pyjama pants. You gulped and ran your hands from her gorgeous abdomen down to the bulge, palming it gently. “I can’t tell whether I should be worried or excited”
Your girlfriend chuckled and softly moaned as you squeezed her bulge harder. “You’ll find out” Was her response before removing her pants, leaving her in black boxers, the bulge looking bigger.
“You’re so blessed, Ryu. I don’t know why Karina wanted you to take it away” you spoke, your long acrylic nails brushing at the sides of her trapped cock.
Ryu hummed and leant down to kiss you again and again, her tongue swiping at your bottom lip. “I don’t want to hear that name ever again”
“Have you ever had sex with her?”
“Nope. She said she’d get turned off just by looking at it”
“She so fucking stupid. I love you for you, Ryu” You cupped her face, smiling.
“I love you so much, Y/n”
You two locked lips for the millionth time before Ryujin skilfully removed both your bra and panties, one hand groping at your tit while the other held her up. You moaned into her mouth before she sat up again and threw her boxers off, making you gasp at her size.
“Oh my god will that even fit?”
“I’ll make it fit, baby. That way your pussy is only tight for me” She winked, slowly jerking herself off that got you drenched down there. “Wait I need to get a condom-“
“N-No need. I can take pills after”
“You ever had sex, baby?” Your girlfriend asked, still stroking herself.
“Not really. I’ve only used my fingers”
Ryujin smiled and kissed your cheek before rubbing the tip of her cock against your soaking folds. “Shit, you’re so wet. Is that all for me?”
“Y-Yes, baby” You moaned at the feeling, slightly scared of what’s to come. (Or should I same cum)
“I’ll be gentle, my love. I promise. Please tell me if you want to stop because I’m more than happy to do that for you” she reassured you.
You nodded and whined at the feeling of her cockhead being pushed in. One hand caressed your waist before she pushed more of her length in, causing you to whine, tears falling from your eyes. Ryujin showered your face with kisses, going at your pace.
“Ryu, it hurts..”
“I know, baby, I know. I’m sorry…Give it a moment and you’ll be okay” She grunted, savouring the feeling of your warm and tight pussy.
Her entire cock was finally in and you made her stay in the uncomfortable position for a few more seconds before you tapped her shoulder. “M-Move slowly”
“Anything for you, Princess”
She held herself up more before moving her hips at a slow pace, and you softly moaned as you realise the pain was turning into an addictive pleasurable feeling. “More, baby, more. Please…” You whined that could’ve made Ryujin cum on the spot.
“F-Fuck yes, you feel so good” She grunted in your ear, her thrusts getting faster and harder.
“Oh Ryujin!” You suddenly yelled, making your older girlfriend shove her fingers down your throat. “Don’t want to get caught, my love”
You nodded and sucked her fingers, moaning more as her cock hit spots in your cunt that your fingers couldn’t reach. She removed her hand out of your mouth and kissed you more.
“Yes yes yes, Ryu, oh my god…”
“You sound so perfect, fuck!” She groaned into your chest, latching her lips around one of your nipples, moving to the other after a few minutes.
You were so lost into the amazing feeling of your girlfriend’s cock absolutely destroying you that you didn’t feel her leave a million hickies around your neck and chest. Painting you like her own canvas.
Ryujin lifted your legs up for a better angle, letting her hit you impossibly deeper, making it harder for you stay quiet. “Fuck yes, Ryu I’m gonna cum baby, please don’t stop!”
“Yeah? You gonna cum on this big cock baby?” She chuckled into your ear.
“Uh huh!” You moaned, clawing at her smooth back, knowing it’s gonna leave marks.
Ryujin groaned at your nails digging into her skin, turning her on even more. “Fuck I’m gonna cum in this pretty tight cunt of yours. You’d like that wouldn’t you, baby? Letting me fill you up to the fucking brim until your pussy can’t hold it any more”
“Yes daddy~”
“Fuck!” Ryujin groaned feeling your walls tighten. Your orgasm triggering her to pound you a few more times before squirting thick ropes of cum into you.
Ryujin placed your legs around her waist again before laying her entire body on top of you, panting into your neck, beads of sweat going down your bodies.
“God, that was fucking amazing” Your girlfriend huffed into your ear before kissing your cheek.
“You felt so good, baby” You smiled, rubbing her back and frowned feeling the marks. “Oh my god, im so sorry! I didn’t think I scratched you that hard”
“No no it’s fine. I’m proud of it. And plus, it makes us even” She eyed your chest.
You looked down and saw purple marks everywhere, making you slap her shoulder. “We have practice tomorrow!”
“And? I wanna show what’s mine”
You rolled your eyes at her cheeky smile and quickly latched onto her neck, sucking hard and fast until your own mark was on her. “There. NOW we’re even”
“Do you want me to pull out now?”
You nodded and winced as the older removed her cock from you, cursing at how your mixed cum escaped your abused lips and drenching the sheets. “Wow I came a lot” Ryujin commented.
“Fuck I feel so full”
“I’ll quickly change the sheets, babe” Ryu said as she was about to stand up but you dragged her down next to you, laying your head on her naked chest.
“We can do that tomorrow morning. I’m really tired”
“I bet you are. Goodnight, baby”
“Goodnight Ryu”
“Thanks for always being there for me…and for being my girlfriend. I love you”
“I love you more, my darling” You whispered, giving her a final kiss before falling into slumber in each other’s embrace.
The end.
SLAYYYYYY 💅🏼 I manifest to have this type of happy ending in my life🥹
243 notes · View notes
afewproblems · 1 year
Text
Part Four: Final Part Four Mean!Eddie Misunderstandings Au
Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Read in full on Ao3
Thank you to everyone that cheered me on @samcoxramblings for your kind words on every post! @flowercrowngods and @barbariansteves for your helpful advice and @zerokrox-blog for your original prompt waaaaay back in February, I'm sorry this took so long but I hope you finally get the comfort you wished for!
***
The kids demand two weeks to prepare for their Hellfire session, insisting that they need this time to debrief Eddie and come up with their game plan, which is fine by Steve.
It also gives him two weeks to decompress from his last interaction with the kid's Dungeon Master, and time to try and untangle exactly how he feels about the whole situation. 
It was nice for things to start moving back towards something resembling normal. The kids seemed happier, even going so far as to begin splitting their time between Eddie and Steve once again. Asking for rides to the hobby shop in Indi from their resident metal-head rather than Steve. It was nice to finally have a little bit more time to himself again.
Even Robin, who had previously been steadfast in her Anti-Eddie stance, had suddenly grown rather tight-lipped about the whole thing.
She had even offered to accompany Steve on his errands for the day they scheduled their Hellfire meeting, citing that she was always up for a grocery run and he may need help bringing everything in.
Which, in hindsight, should have been Steve’s first clue that something strange was going on. 
“So, you ready?” Robin hums as they walk up and down the canned food aisle of Marsh Market, “you can still back out you know?”
Steve smiles and grabs a box of onion soup mix, he’s fairly certain he has some sour cream at home to make a dip of some sort, much easier than the last snack he tried to prepare for the group. 
“Yeah, Robs, I know, I think it should be fine,” he crosses off the soup mix on his list and turns the cart around the empty aisle to head towards the produce section, “the kids are already setting up now so the only thing I need to do is be there,” he shrugs and stops in front of the humming displays. 
Steve waits until the misting stops before reaching for a bag of mini carrots and tossing them into the cart. 
“Can’t believe you trust Henderson to have a key, I can’t believe you hold us at the same level of trust!” Robin grumbles under her breath as she picks up a granny smith from one of the bins and rubs it on the rolled up sleeves of her navy blazer; it’s just slightly too big for her, most likely stolen from her dad’s closet. 
Steve rolls his eyes and continues pushing the cart around the produce area, "careful Birdy, you roll those up anymore you're actually going to turn into Don Johnson". 
"I should be so lucky," she snarks back as she catches up to him by the celery.
She tosses the apple back and forth between her hands, nearly dropping it twice before placing the produce into the cart under Steve’s unimpressed gaze. 
She starts snapping her fingers and shuffling her feet as they continue walking up and down the aisles, going through their list bit by bit. Steve finds himself watching his friend’s nervous fidgeting with curious eyes, it was just a grocery trip, there shouldn’t be anything to really make her act like this, right?
He takes a quick glance around at some of the employees stocking the aisles, in case Vickie or some other pretty classmate of Robin’s is wandering around. 
But, they’re alone.
“Are you sure you don’t need anything else?” Robin asks, as Steve folds up the list and turns the cart towards the check out tills.  
She tips the small watch she’s wearing up to her face, her eyes flit back and forth between Steve and the watch as she chews on her bottom lip, which is more than a little odd.
The kids are already at the house and Eddie and the rest of the Hellfire gang won’t be arriving for at least another hour, they have plenty of time?
Robin steps away from the cart and throws her thumb over her shoulder at the chip aisle, “you do realize that you’re going to have like ten teenagers at your house right? You think veggies and dip is enough?”
“I’m ordering pizza later, I think this is fine?” Steve says slowly, gesturing at the cart, confusion and suspicion saturate his words as his eyes narrow at his friend. 
“Robin,” Steve murmurs, walking the cart closer towards her, “what's going on?”
“Nothing, why would you --nothing!” She stutters as her freckled face pales slightly. 
Steve smirks, Robin is probably the worst liar he’s ever met, and it's always endearing whenever she tries. 
The last time she had lied to Steve, it had been about the mascara wand she had dropped onto the passenger seat, staining the leather just slightly, and smearing the black makeup all over the floor covers. 
Robin had panicked and insisted that had been there before she had sat down.
Steve had been sitting in the car with her at the time.
He knew a Robin lie when he saw it, but he also knew it wouldn’t take long for her to crack. 
“Okay!”
There it is.
“Listen,” Robin hisses sharply, she steps closer until she’s nearly whispering in his ear in the empty chip aisle, “I’m stalling you okay?”
“Probably not something you should be telling the person you’re stalling but okay?” Steve snorts as he leans onto the cart handle, “also, this was the worst place to go to stall us, it's two in the afternoon on a Wednesday, no one else is here”.
“I know!” Robin groans, letting her face fall into her open hands, she slowly lifts her face once more and lets her fingers drag across her forehead and cheeks, pulling at the skin, “I should have said no, I wanted to say no, but they used Will--”
Steve nods, “and you can’t say no to Will, yeah I gotcha”.
The words register after a beat.
“Wait, backup, the kids put you up to this? The unsupervised shitheads in my house right now?”
Robin nods, her blue eyes wide and the barest of smirks still covered by her hands.
“Oh christ,” Steve mutters under his breath, “do I even want to know?”
Robin drops her hands away from her face and scowls for a second before sighing, “I would absolutely love to tell you,” she shakes her head and looks up at the ceiling, “better yet, I’d love to just take you to Indi for the day, forget about this completely, but those God Damn kids know exactly what to say,” she looks at him once more in barely concealed exasperation, “how do they always know what to say?”
“How angry do I need to be, on a scale of like one to ten?” 
Robin stares at him consideringly, her eyes scanning his face, “I mean, if I were you, it would be at like, a hundred,” she says eventually, “but since it’s you?”
“Maybe a four”.
Steve nods and drums his hands on the cart handles, blowing out a long slow breath as he makes his decision, “how much more time do they need?”
Robin looks at her watch again and smiles this time, “Well this bought them another five-ish minutes, so maybe another half hour?”
She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a crumpled five dollar bill, “come on, I’ll getcha a coffee or something?”
“Wait, do I even need these snacks? Robin?”
Robin was wrong, this at least warranted a five for the groceries alone. 
***
The drive back is uneventful, Steve did end up going though check out, rationalizing that, no matter what, he needed some veggies for the rest of the week so there were worse things he could have spent the money on. 
Robin had bought him a coffee from the gas station down the road. There wasn't enough creamer in the world to make that palatable so he leaves it in the cup holder while driving back. Even with a hot chocolate Robin hasn't fared much better. 
"Okay, well that's the worst five dollars ever spent," she groans after taking a sip. Robin wrinkles her nose and sets the cup in the other empty holder beside Steve’s before sneaking a quick look at her watch once more, “worth it though,” she says with a small smile.
It slides off her face after a moment when she realizes that they’ve turned down her street, “Steve?”
He looks between her and the road, tilting his head as she touches his elbow gently. 
“You can just come over you know, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to and that includes letting people force you to--” Robin snaps her mouth shut with an audible click of her teeth. 
She shakes her head and takes her hand back, “sorry, I promised not to say anything”.
Steve pulls over onto the Buckley’s driveway and finally turns to face Robin as much as the driver's seat will allow. 
“Still sure about this whole thing only warranting a four?” he asks softly as a bubble of anxiety begins to expand from his stomach and into his chest, as though he’s absorbed her nervous energy over the course of the afternoon.
Robin shrugs, “I don’t know, but,” her blue eyes bounce back and forth between his own, “just don’t let them make you make a decision you’re not ready for,” she chews her lip again, “no one gets to push you around but me”.
Steve laughs as Robin leans out of her seat to give him a quick, but firm, hug before she opens the door and steps outside. As soon as she’s out of the car, Steve wishes he had asked her to stay, to come with him and hold his hand through the unknown. The bereft, hollow feeling from before returns in full force as she walks up to her front door. 
She turns around and holds up her thumb and pinky as she lifts her hands to her face, mouthing, ‘Call me later,’ as she waves with her other hand. 
She stays outside as Steve slowly reverses, hesitating on the street for just a moment as Robin walks backwards the rest of the way to her door, she moves her hands, motioning for him to get going. 
Steve nods once and takes a deep breath as he shifts into drive and heads down the street.
It’s just the kids, he tells himself, how bad can it be?
***
By the time Steve pulls into his driveway, he’s nearly turned around to retrieve Robin and insist that she come with him at least five times. Even now as he pulls the emergency brake for the slight incline of the Harrington driveway, he considers starting the car again and leaving. 
The last time he felt this anxious to be home was after graduation, after he’d been rejected from every school he’d applied to and knew there was no getting around that conversation with his dad. 
That conversation had ended with the crack in the table, a hastily completed Scoops application, and his parents leaving for three months. 
If it hadn’t happened he wouldn’t have met Robin, so at least there had been a silver lining on that occasion. 
He’s not sure if there will be one this time.
Steve gets out of the car before opening the back door to grab the paper grocery bag from the store, he leaves the full coffee and hot chocolate cups with a grimace and makes a mental note to throw them out later before locking the car door. 
Steve slowly makes his way to the steps, balancing the bag on his hip as he rifles through his pants pocket for his house key. 
He looks around the street and spots Eddie’s van parked a few houses down. Great.
Steve knew that Eddie and the others would be showing up around now, even before Robin went ahead and spilled the beans about whatever it was the kids were secretly doing, but he had still hoped for a moment to just breathe before he had to face the inevitable.
Steve takes a deep breath and grabs the door handle, scoffing as it opens immediately. He makes a second mental note to scold Dustin for leaving the door unlocked for just anyone to come in --especially since the rest of Hellfire was already here apparently.
“Hey assholes, the snacks are here,” Steve calls out as he steps over the threshold, tossing his own keys into the dish on the side table. 
He kicks the door closed and locks the deadbolt with a roll of his eyes, “and I do include myself with that statement,” he adds under his breath with a smirk.
Steve slides off his shoes and pauses, looking around the foyer.
It’s quiet.
Where there is normally an abundance of yelling and laughter, of the kids arguing amongst themselves, or Eddie’s usual dramatic storytelling, there’s nothing. 
Steve walks into the kitchen and puts the bag onto the counter, “guys?” he calls out again, only to be met with silence. 
Steve makes his way into the dining room through the swing door and stops in his tracks.
The table is gone. 
“What the fuck?” he hears himself whisper as he walks into the middle of the space, nearly into the hanging light in the center of the room --he’d never noticed just how low it was, what with the table that was normally there to stop him from walking directly into it.
“What the fuck?” Steve hisses again, his heart starts to race as he steps around the light and spots the open sliding door to the backyard. 
“If you little fuckers decided to move my grandmother’s table when there is a perfectly good patio table out there, I swear to Christ--” 
But the kids aren’t outside either. 
Eddie freezes as Steve walks around the corner of the house, he’s standing next to the dining table with a piece of sandpaper in his hands.
“Steve,” Eddie squawks in surprise, quickly hiding the sandpaper behind his back, “hey!”
Steve’s not entirely sure just what he’s looking at as he takes another step further into the yard. Eddie’s normally black ripped jeans are covered in a fine layer of dust, his wild curls have been pulled back into a messy ponytail away from his face, and an open container of wood filler sits beside him on the concrete patio.
Steve takes another four steps until he’s close enough to touch the wooden surface, his mouth hanging open as he takes it all in. 
The surface of the table has been sanded down in its entirety, removing the beautiful deep cherry varnish, but the crack in the center has been mended, some kind of slightly darker putty has sealed the gaping wound that had marred the surface. 
“Can you,” Eddie��s voice shakes, drawing Steve’s attention once more, “can you please say something, I can’t tell if you’re mad or what?”
“You fixed it,” Steve whispers, his eyes fixed on the table, he reaches to run a shaking hand over the surface.
“Careful,” Eddie says softly, grabbing Steve’s hand before it can touch the center with long sure fingers, “that still needs about an hour or so to cure”.
Steve looks from the table to his hand, still cradled in Eddie’s own, before looking up to see two big brown eyes staring into his own. 
“I don’t understand,” the words come out in a whisper as Steve swallows around the sudden lump in his throat, “why?”
“Well,” Eddie murmurs as he squeezes Steve’s hand once before threading their fingers together and dragging Steve towards one of the pool loungers in the grass.
Eddie sits down and pulls Steve with him to sit, he feels a deep flush begin to wash over his neck and the tips of his ears, it's impossible to hide in the bright sunlight this time --not that he’d even be able to with Eddie’s firm grip on Steve’s hand.
“Those kids of yours are pretty genius,” Eddie says slowly, deliberately, his gaze never wavering from Steve’s face, “and they love you so fucking much man”.
Eddie clears his throat and rubs his thumb over Steve’s knuckles, “and there seems to be some confusion about how I actually feel about you, so allow me to uh, lay it all on the,” he gestures with his free hand towards the dining table and smirks, “well you know”.
Steve feels his heart leaping out of his chest, he can’t sit here, listen to this, he’s heard it before, it isn’t real.
Steve moves to stand up from the lounger but Eddie is faster as he manages to grab Steve’s other hand, holding him in place.
“Eddie--”
“You said no one had ever bothered before,” Eddie barrels on, speaking so quickly that Steve hardly understands at first. He squeezes Steve’s hands lightly again, the skin warmed metal from Eddie’s rings press into the palms of Steve’s hands.
“No one’s ever tried to fix it, have they?” Eddie breathes out as his eyes flit back and forth, searching Steve’s own, “would you let me try?”
For a moment, Steve lets himself just sit with the words. 
Lets himself indulge in the soft, almost reverent way that Eddie asks. He lets the warmth of Eddie’s hands tether him to something resembling hope.
Before he shakes his head.
“You don’t know what you’re saying Eddie,” Steve growls, but the words lack any true bite.
“I know exactly what I’m saying,” Eddie insists, he gets up from beside Steve and kneels in the grass in front of him, “but I don’t think you do, I think we’ve been talking past each recently Steve, and it took speaking to a bunch of people --way smarter than me, to realize it. So here it is--”
“Don’t,” Steve shouts at the same time that Eddie whispers, “I like you,” and for a moment neither moves. 
Steve slowly takes his hands out of Eddie's now slack grip. 
He lowers one hand down to the edge of the pool lounger, gripping it so harshly that his knuckles slowly fade to white, while the other he brings up to cover Eddie’s mouth.
“Don’t say something you can’t take back,” Steve says softly. 
Eddie just stares for a beat, his forehead pinched in a terrible frown, before he reaches up to cup Steve’s cheek and gently removes the hand covering his mouth. He smiles softly and lets his thumb gently run over the crest of Steve’s cheekbone.
“Good thing I don’t want to take it back,” Eddie insists, he slides the hand on Steve’s cheek down to hold his chin firmly between two fingers.
“Steve,” Eddie lifts himself up so he’s balancing on the balls of his feet, just high enough that they are at eye level now, “I spent a very long time holding onto things that weren’t even remotely true, and they made me act like an asshole, I can’t tell you how sorry I am for that sweetheart”.
“What if you change your mind, what if I--”
“Steve, what the fuck could you do at this point that would shock me?" Eddie says with a derisive laugh, he lets go of Steve's face to press his hand briefly to his own chest. 
"I’m a drug dealing, satan worshiping, murderer who almost ate it in another dimension from killer demon bats".
Eddie grins as he peppers his speech with air quotes but the edges of it are jagged, and the good humour doesn't quite reach his eyes.
Steve breathes out sharply through his nose and shakes his head, “I get angry sometimes, I say things I don't mean, I…" 
He sees himself surrounded by ceramic shards again, crying as he sweeps up his own mess, and shudders.
It's enough for Eddie to nod, and shuffle closer still.
"Pot," Eddie says softly as he pokes Steve in the sternum with this pointer finger and then brings it around to point at his own face, "kettle". 
Steve chews his bottom lip as his thoughts swirl together and fly apart, disjointed and frenetic, "I just," he swallows around a harsh lump that begins to form in his throat, "I don't want you to think that I'm something that I'm not”.
Steve closes his eyes, missing the way that Eddie freezes at the words, but he can’t stop now --he has to get this all out or he’ll never be able to.
"That I've changed, that I'm this thing you've built up, for your sake, because let me tell you, it's pretty heartbreaking when everything you hoped was real turns out to be all in your head".
Steve opens his eyes as Eddie makes a sound like he’s been punched in the gut. 
He’s still kneeling in front of Steve, even closer now, almost close enough that Steve can count the light dusting of freckles on his nose, and it feels like his heart will burst at any moment. 
Fuck it.
"I've been halfway in love with you since you woke up from the hospital," Steve blurts out, “only to find out that you didn't feel even remotely the same about me, this whole time,” he breathes in shallowly as Eddie pales.
"I don't think I could take it if that happened again Eds,” Steve continues as he drops his gaze to his knees, “I think it would crush me".
"That's why I don't want you to say something you can't take--"
The words die on his lips as Eddie grabs his face and kisses him.
It’s harsh and clumsy, their teeth clack as Eddie loses his balance, pushing himself into Steve. They fall over the lounger, Steve’s shoulders and lower back hit the metal  frame hard, forcing a muffled groan out as Eddie falls on top of him with his own faint, ‘oof’.
Eddie tries to raise himself up by his hands before falling even further as one of his hands slips through the rubber slats of the chair and he crashes into Steve's stomach.
Eddie babbles a string of incomprehensible apologies as he frees his trapped hand and manages to gently straddle Steve. Eddie hovers over him and lifts his hands to cup Steve's face.
“Shit baby, are you okay? Fuck, that’s not how I wanted that to go at all, I’m so shit at this”. 
“Can we, can you get off and then we can get off the stupid chair?” Steve wheezes as he tries to catch his breath and shift his weight away from the metal still pressed into his back, “lets go inside, we can..talk about this”.
Eddie curses under his breath, his expression nervous, and moves his legs off of Steve and the chair before holding a hand out to help Steve to his feet.
Steve rubs his back as he leads the pair back inside through the sliding glass door, not daring to turn around and face Eddie. 
He feels his own mortified flush spread across his chest and neck and winces; this is probably the most he’s blushed in years all in the span of a single afternoon.
He kissed me, he kissed me, he kissed me, plays on a seemingly endless loop in Steve’s head as he walks into the house, he can’t help the wide smile that blooms over his face --despite the other, darker thought that whispers in his ear, be careful, be careful, be careful.
Steve takes them through the empty dining room and into the living room before dropping onto the couch with another low groan. He looks up as he realizes that Eddie is no longer beside him.
Eddie stands in the entryway to the living room, he’s holding a thick handful of hair over his mouth and watching Steve carefully.
“Can’t talk with you all the way over there,” Steve huffs. 
He tries for a smile but the effect is lost as Eddie continues to stand and stare at him, looking as though he could bolt from the house at any moment.
“Please come here Eds,” Steve tries again, his voice small. He takes a deep breath, if Eddie can be brave so can you, he thinks as he holds out his hand.
Eddie hesitates for just a moment more, his eyes flick beyond Steve to the hallway linked to the foyer and back, it’s so quick Steve nearly misses it. 
Still, he keeps his hand steady, holding it aloft.
Eventually Eddie takes a tentative step, then another, slowly moving forward until his fingers brush Steve’s own. He takes a seat next to Steve on the plush gray couch but doesn’t relax as Steve turns his body to face him. Eddie tenses even further as Steve gives his hand a gentle squeeze.
He opens his mouth to start but Eddie beats him to it.
“I’m so sorry Steve,” Eddie whispers, his voice strained and thin as he takes his hand back, “I just fucking attacked you? Jesus, I," he cuts himself off, whatever he had been about to say trapped behind the teeth that dig into his bottom lip.
"I mean," Steve mumbles, hating the hunched line of Eddie's shoulders, "I tell you I've been in love with you for months and you kiss me, that makes sense to me?"
"Stop doing that," Eddie bites out as he stands up, slapping his hands on his knees to launch himself away from the couch.
He paces the living room, not looking at Steve and getting progressively more agitated as he walks.
"I apologize and then you turn it around on yourself, why do you do that? Just let me apologize!"
Eddie halts suddenly as he straightens and faces Steve, it's as though a lightbulb has blinked on in the ether as Eddie speaks his next words slowly and carefully, "stop letting me off the hook Steve, be honest with me".
"I have been honest with you," Steve tries but Eddie shakes his head.
"Nope, you've told me some of your stuff today, but not why you keep downplaying everything, why you're not just telling me you're upset, it's like you're censoring the stuff you think I don't want to hear, come on”.
"My stuff," Steve mutters under his breath as a hot flicker of irritation licks at his ribcage.
"Yes," Eddie says, throwing his hands into his hair in frustration.
"Everybody censors themselves Eddie, you think I tell the kids everything? That I've told Robin everything?"
At this Eddie blanches, surprise etched over his forehead as his eyebrows climb into his wispy bangs.
"But Robin--"
"Knows enough, but not everything,"Steve scoffs as he crosses his arms over his stomach, "and she doesn't need to".
Robin may know his parents are hardly around, she may have formed her own opinions, assumptions about what she thinks is going on; but Steve has gotten very good at hiding these things -especially over the years. 
Pulling out the King Steve persona, make them laugh, make them mad, watch this hand while the other pulls the wool over their eyes. 
"Then tell me," Eddie says softly, but there is a challenge to his words. 
He shifts his stance slightly, putting more weight on his left leg as he cocks his hip out to the side, "shock me Harrington". 
Steve shifts on the couch, feeling pinned under Eddie's gaze, before swiping a tired hand over his face and dropping it into his lap.
"That crack in the table happened just before I graduated," Steve says softly, his head tipped down so the words tumble into his knees. 
He ignores the sharp intake of breath from Eddie, not daring to look up as he continues,  "my uh, my dad opened the rejection letter from Vincennes, that one had just been delivered that morning I think". 
Steve breathes out slowly and picks at a hangnail on his left thumb, he hasn't ever spoken about this to anyone, he's never really managed to talk about his home life growing up without side stepping things. 
There had been moments where Steve thinks Tommy and Carol might have had their suspicions, but they never asked and Steve wasn't in a position to talk about it.
"I think that was at the beginning of June, so, so his logical conclusion was to uh, go looking for the other letters, the ones I must have received already". 
Steve barks out a laugh, but the sound rings out hollow in the large living room, he startles slightly as the couch dips down next to him as Eddie sits, close enough that his knees are brushing Steve's own.
He doesn't say anything, but it's enough for Steve to breathe out and keep going.
"And he found them, my dad, in the shoebox I kept in the back of my closet". 
"I don't know why I had even kept them," Steve shakes his head, "I should have thrown them away".
Steve absently traces a faint white line across his temple, staring past his knees into the patterns of the ornate area rug, "I got home from school and he had the letters waiting for me". 
"He laid them all out on the dining table," Steve sweeps his hands out, setting the scene in his head, "like you see in those detective movies right? He just needed some string to connect them all to me". 
Steve shivers and closes his eyes, the words still echoing fresh in his mind, the hot spittle that hit his face as his father cornered him against the wall still makes him flinch if he thinks about it too hard.
"He asked when I was planning to tell him about the rejections, and I couldn't give him an answer," he reaches up and pinches his nose, just once, blinking a few times as he wills away the gathering moisture.
"I didn't raise you to be this way Steven, like some fucking ungrateful coward --look at me when I'm God Damn talking to you!" Richard seethes as he slams the flat of his palm into the center of the table, his Harvard class ring splitting the wood as it connects with a loud crack.
Richard doesn't look down, his hand slides to one of the letters, snatching it from the surface as he steps around the table, towards Steve, in three sure strides. He backs his son towards the wall, looming over Steve as he shoves the paper into his face in one hand while the other grips the collar of Steve's T-Shirt.
"What will people think, huh, our only son didn't get into college, Hagan got in for chrissakes," his dad shakes him once, forcing Steve's head to connect with the wall, "what am I supposed to tell people Steven, what are we going to tell your poor mother?" 
"I thought that Wheeler girl was supposed to be smart, tutor you or something," Richard scoffs as he finally lets go of Steve's shirt collar, "or did she finally come to her senses?"
Steve sneers before he can stop himself, "I didn't think you were even around enough to see that dad--"
The blow comes swiftly, catching him across the temple, his father's class ring comes out to play once again as a hot burst of pain blooms across the entire left side of his face from the backhand. 
"Don't you ever speak to me that way again, you want to be a big man Steven? Just see what happens". 
Steve blinks once, coming back to himself, "my dad, um, he has a problem with anger, with uh, expressing it I guess".
"But that isn't what this is about," Steve whispers, and this time he can't keep the wobble from his voice as he speaks.
"I'm afraid, I'm just like him, that I could do what he did if I got upset enough, and you," he breathes out sharply but the sounds more like a sob than anything else, "you want me to be honest?"
Steve finally lifts his eyes up to meet Eddie's own. Eddie, who looks as though he wants to melt into the floor, his shoulders tense and his own eyes seem suspiciously shiny as they stare back at Steve.
"Why couldn't you be honest with me, huh?" Steve whispers, "from the beginning?" 
A tear breaks the surface, tracing down Steve's cheek. He manages to catch it roughly with the back of his hand before reaching up to press the heels of both his hands into his eyes --as though the pressure could stop the building deluge he knows is inevitable.
"I was so angry with you when you told me that you hadn't meant what you said in the Upside Down," Steve manages to speak through the tightening of his throat as he drops his hands back down into his lap, "that I smashed a plate in my kitchen after you left, I don't, I don't know what happened". 
His breath quickens suddenly and every other word comes out as a gasp, "but it's like my worst fucking fears h-have come true and I don't, I don't know what to do, I don't, I--" 
"Oh sweetheart," Eddie says softly as he reaches for Steve, pulling him into his arms with gentle fingers, "oh, I gotcha".
Steve lets himself be moved, for his head to be tipped into the crook of Eddie's neck and his body tucked into Eddie's chest. 
Steve tries to slow down his breathing, to stop the shuddering of his chest as he fights the tears. 
"It's okay," Eddie tries but Steve shakes his head.
"It's not," he bites out, the words taper off into a whine, "it's not--"
"Okay, you're right, it's not," Eddie says so softly Steve nearly misses it.
"I'm so, so, sorry Steve," Eddie murmurs into Steve's hair, holding him tighter as Steve finally gives in and lets himself cry. 
He's not sure how long they sit for, eventually Steve feels a steady hand card through his hair while the other strokes down his arms, he feels the tension in his shoulders begin to melt away and the tears slow to a gentle trickle.
"I'm an idiot," Eddie huffs out, the breath flutters Steve's hair, making him twitch at the sensation.
Steve reaches up and wipes at his face with tired hands. The skin feels warm to the touch and puffy around his eyes and his nose which refuses to stop running, he must look like an absolute sight right now, he thinks to himself with a grimace.
"You're not an idiot," he manages to croak, but Eddie's already shaking his head sharply, turning himself to look at Steve.
"Oh believe me, I've fucked up before, pretty spectacularly, but this takes the goddamn cake sweetheart". 
"And you're right," Eddie says slowly, carefully, "I shouldn't be harping on about you hiding how you feel when I'm the reason why we're in this mess".
Eddie chews his bottom lip, worrying it between his teeth before pulling away from Steve entirely as he reaches up to cup Steve's face between his hands.
"I'm sorry for not being honest with you Stevie, and I will spend every day trying to make it up to you if you let me?"
Steve looks at Eddie, really looks at him.
He takes in the drooped curve of his shoulders, the subtle pink of the tip of his nose and the glassy sheen in his brown eyes. The way his chest has stopped rising and he drops his hands away from Steve the longer he openly stares at the metal-head, the way Eddie anxiously spins and spins and spins the rings on his hands the longer he waits. 
It’s an easy decision to reach out and place his own hand on Eddies own, to halt the frantic movements with a gentle squeeze.
“So,” Steve says, grinning as Eddie finally looks up at him once more, "on a scale of helping to chauffeur the kids to finishing fixing the table, what kind of making it up to me are we talking about?"
The smile Eddie gives him is nearly blinding as he launches himself at Steve, gathering him up in his arms. His hair smells like sawdust and there's the barest hint of some kind of cologne that Steve can't place.
Eddie leans back into the couch cushions, laughingly wetly and taking Steve with him. The sound makes his chest ache as Steve realizes just how much he’s missed Eddie’s laughter. He buries his face in Eddie's neck as they cuddle into one another, letting themselves sit with nothing but the sound of the occasional car driving down the street outside or the humming of grasshoppers through the screen door to the backyard.
"For what it's worth," Eddie huffs, breaking the quiet, a hint of dimples revealing themselves as he smiles, "I've never met the guy, but from the sounds of it, you are the farthest thing from being like 'Ol Dick Harrington".
Steve says nothing but feels something in his chest finally unclench for the first time in weeks.
"Besides, there's nothing like a good plate smash every now and again Stevie," Eddie hums as he runs his thumb over the crest of Steve's cheekbone again.
"That's what Robin said," Steve mumbles, as he leans further into Eddie with a smile, "she came over that night, after". 
"A wise and terrifying woman," Eddie says sagely, "who I hope to never piss off again".
He stops suddenly and looks up at Steve, a nervous pinch to his brow as he plays with a loose curl hanging in front of his face, "I'm glad you guys have each other," Eddie says slowly, letting his thumb stroke Steve's hand absently, "that you have people in your corner and--”
Eddie swallows, his eyes darting back and forth between Steve's eyes as he finally seems to steel himself.
"I hope you'll let me be one of those people".
This nervous, quiet Eddie, is so strange to take in, but then again Steve's also never been on the receiving end of so many apologies all at once, it's just shy of being overwhelming at this point.
"Oh come off it Eddie," Steve huffs with a roll of his eyes, "you had me the moment I saw that fucking table outside and you tried to hide the sandpaper behind your back --real smooth by the way".
The way Eddie stares at him in surprise and that same look of awe from before, tells Steve that was the right thing to say.
Eddie barks out a wet laugh and squeezes him tighter, tipping his face to nuzzle Steve's ear, "I missed you teasing me".
"That was the worst part about all of this," he shudders once and drops his head to Steve's shoulder, "I thought I lost my friend, but I have you back".
"Yeah, you have me Eds," Steve says softly.
Steve rests against Eddie, uncaring that the position is growing more uncomfortable as the arm tucked closest to the metal-head falls asleep. Eddie holds him with such gentle reverence that Steve feels as though he may just burst from happiness at any moment. 
Everything he's wanted for months, has finally fallen into place.
It's quiet for another moment. Steve plays with one of Eddie's hands, running his fingers over the calluses from playing guitar and the eclectic rings decorating his knuckles.
Eddie clears his throat after a beat, swallowing once, “so uh, earlier….that wasn’t exactly how I pictured our first kiss you know?"
Steve feels a small grin slowly bloom, he's not quite facing Eddie the way they're sitting, so he can play coy a little longer.
 “You’ve pictured it huh?” 
Eddie snorts “Oh yeah, you have no idea, there’s usually more tongue involved and less chipped teeth”.
Steve nods, letting them sit for a moment longer, letting himself be chased for once.
Eddie pulls back slightly, leaving his arms loosely wrapped around Steve, “think we could uh, try again?”
“Will you mean it as much as you did the first time?” Steve says with a smile as he rubs his lip with his thumb and flushed cheeks.
“You liked that huh, always knew you were a freak like me Harrington,” Eddie barks out, his eyes shining with mirth as he leans closer to run the tip of his nose down Steve's before nuzzling them together, "wanna make some good memories in this house Stevie?"
“Only if you’re with me Eds,” Steve whispers against Eddie’s lips as he slowly leans in. 
Steve’s heart races, anticipation flooding his veins and filling his chest with a giddy realization that he finally, finally, gets to have this. 
That he knows Eddie finally, finally, feels the same way.
He’ll call Robin later, let her know about Hellfire’s plan, the apology, and maybe even the truth about everything he’d kept hidden away for so long. The old hurts soothed and the lid of the box in his mind permanently open now, the lid wrenched off its hinges so as to never close again. Maybe he could let people in, to let them know him. 
For now, Steve lets himself be lowered onto the couch, lets Eddie's hands roam freely, over Steve's shoulders, his neck --letting his fingers gently brush the long scar from the Demobat tail, before lifting one hand to cup his cheek while the other climbs into Steve hair, threading his fingers through it and giving the locks an experimental tug.
Steve's hands make their way up Eddie's back, under his shirt, tracing over the raised scars on his sides. Eddie shoots Steve a wicked grin, his eyes crinkle at the sides as he lets his weight gently fall over Steve, catching himself with his hands on the couch cushions on either side of Steve's face, effectively caging him in. 
Eddie moves slowly, deliberately, it's not nearly as brutal as the first time but Eddie kisses like a wildman starved, licking into Steve's mouth and grazing his bottom lip with harsh teeth. 
It feels like Steve is being consumed, slowly, carefully.
It's overwhelming in the best way. The feeling of his soft lips against Steve’s own, the harsh stubble that rubs against Steve’s chin. The smell of weed, and sawdust, and cologne invades his nose.
Eddie pulls back briefly before leaning down again to place a soft kiss against Steve’s lips.
“How's that for a second kiss?” he asks with a raised eyebrow and a wide smirk pulling at his slightly puffy lips.
Steve scoffs and tugs at Eddie’s shirt collar, “I dunno, maybe we need to check again?”
Eddie’s laughter rings out loud and long in the Harrington living room, as he leans down again and hugs Steve tightly.
For the first time in a long time, Steve feels himself relax. 
He lets the weight of Eddie press him into the cushions and releases a long contented breath, the Harrington house, finally feeling warmer than it has in a long time.
I hope you all enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed working on it! This was the first fic of this length that I was still actively writing as I was updating that I've actually completed and I'm pretty damn happy about that! I was so worried about abandoning this guy and I'm glad I was able to finish it, hopefully it has come to a satisfying conclusion <3
Taglist: @zerokrox-blog @samcoxramblings @thosemessyvibes @liketheocean @vampireinthesun @themostunoriginalpersonever @merricatty @hyperfixationgoddess @hippieg1rl420 @mysticcrownshipper @estrellami-1 @clumsiluni @messrs-weasley @the-obsessed-nerdist
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parkerc-137 · 5 months
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best friends arc incoming (trust me)
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drasticemotions · 2 years
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WHY IS EVERYTHING EVERYWHERE HOT STEAMY SMUT I WANT HURT COMFORT AND FLUFF GOD HELP ME I BEG I WILL DO ANYTHING
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yuriyuruandyuraart · 1 year
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DARK CREAM WEEK: day 5- punish/reward
idk man i think your threats would work a lot more often if you stopped being so handsome about it fdrgbegh<333
dark cream week and comic are by @zu-is-here
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renx01 · 1 month
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Betrayed
Prompt: Your father is the head of a criminal enterprise, one which has come onto the kingsman’s radar. Galahad has the task to get closer to said head, so he starts dating you. After a lot of apprehension on your side, you finally let your walls be broken down by him. That is until you find out that he’s been using you all along.  Pairing: Harry Hart x (GN!)Reader Fandom: Kingsman Tags/Warnings: angst, manipulation, established relationship Word count: 2569
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A soft knock on the front-door of your apartment draws you from the book you were reading, pride and prejudice. You had started reading it after your boyfriend, Harry, had recommended it to you. Standing up, you quietly walk to the door and look through the peep-hole. It was him, which was unexpected and unusual, but it excited you nonetheless, as it had been quite a while since you last saw him. He had been away on a business trip to Canada for two weeks and the time difference made calling a challenge, especially with his job requiring to stay up late often. Opening the door, you notice that he’s wearing a new suit. While it still fits his usual colour-scheme with it being a darker grey with a white pinstripe, it has some red detailing around the buttons. The fit of the three-piece-suit was impeccable as always, accentuating him in all the right places. ‘Evening Harry.’ Your voice is cheerful as you greet him, ‘ I wasn’t expecting you to be back yet.’ He smiles softly at you, ‘I was hoping to surprise you.’ Leaning down, he kisses you, after which he pulls you into a hug. 
‘I missed you, love.’ You tighten your grip around him. ‘I missed you too.’
Ever since the two of you had started dating three years ago, the two of you saw each-other at least twice a week when he wasn’t on a business-trip. He kisses the top of your head before slowly letting go of the hug. ‘Tea?’ You ask him as you walk towards the kitchen, ‘or would you prefer something stronger?’ It was half past eight  on a Friday evening, so having a glass of wine or bourbon together wasn’t out of the ordinary. ‘How about some whiskey?’ He replies following you, his hand on the small of your back. ‘Sounds lovely’ you smile, ‘I should have some in my liquor cabinet.’ While you grab two glasses, he looks at your collection. Since you started seeing him it has grown significantly. He enjoyed teaching you about all the different types of liquor and what effects certain techniques may have if applied to the distilling process. ‘This one?’ He holds up a bottle of Scotch after kneeling down to grab it. It was one of your favourites and he had recently bought you a new one while in Scotland. Nodding, ‘You know me too well dear.’
The two of you sit down in your home library, where you had also been sitting previously. It was your favourite place to be in, as it reminded you of your grandparent’s mansion in Italy, which you had often visited while growing up. You have always been quite the reader, so their library provided many of the books you read as a child. ‘Excuse the mess, I’ve been reading and writing all day.’ You apologise for the clutter in your desk and the many books which lay folded open next to your reading chair, annotations sprawling across their pages. ‘Don’t worry my dear,’ he smiles as he sits down across from you, ‘we both know that this is a normal part of your creative process.’ Once you’ve set down your glasses onto the table that’s standing between the two of you, he fills them with the liquor of his choice. ‘So please, don’t apologise.’ After all this time, you still felt flustered at times. He was always so well-put-together, with his exterior almost always being perfect. It was the exact opposite of how you felt at times, yet he encouraged and supported you, telling you many times that one can never be perfect and that you should be comfortable in whatever clothes you decide to wear. ‘To us.’ He states, clinking his glass to yours. ‘To us.’ You reply before tasting the brown liquid. It was as delicious as you’d remembered it to be.
‘I see you’ve picked up Austen? Is it to your liking?’ After thinking for a moment you reply, ‘I’m enjoying it quite a bit, though I am still uncertain what to think of Darcy.’ ‘Ah yes, Mr. Darcy is quite a complicated man. I suppose depending on the type of relationship one holds with him the experience can be quite different.’ He muses. The two of you spent the rest of the evening talking, reading, and drinking scotch. Only at three in the morning did you realise how much time had passed. Because of this, Harry decided to stay the night at your place. Luckily he always had some spare clothes and his own toiletries at your place. Once he’s gotten changed into his pyjamas, he joins you in the bathroom as you are brushing your teeth. Reaching over your shoulder, he grabs his own toothbrush and starts doing the same. His hair is slightly messy, with some of its waves cascading down his forehead rather than them being pushed back. He had also taken off his glasses, which made him appear slightly younger and less serious, at least to an extent. 
‘Enjoying the view?’ Harry jokes as he catches you staring at him through the mirror. ‘Why yes of course,’ you turn to face him, ‘mister Hart.’ He smiles down at you. ‘You don’t look too bad yourself my love.’ Leaning in, he tenderly kisses you, slowly becoming more passionate when you put your hands into his hair, pulling him closer. Pulling away, he puts his forehead to yours. ‘We should take this to the bedroom.’
The next morning you wake up relatively late, around eleven o’clock. Harry lay there with his arm around you, his pyjama shirt still open. Soft snores fill your ear, it was quite cute to see him sleeping so peacefully. He isn’t like this often, and it is quite the exception that you are awake before him, so you decide to enjoy the moment.  After a few minutes, you supposed that it’d be best to brew some tea before Harry woke up. So very carefully, you climbed out of his grip and silently walked into the kitchen. Putting the kettle on the stove, you start looking at the different teas you have. ‘English breakfast… Chamomile… Mint…’ Pondering and mumbling, you eventually choose a black tea and put in some fresh lemon slices. As the kettle boils, you are putting some yoghurt, granola, and fresh berries into two bowls. Two arms suddenly wrap themselves around your waist. ‘Morning love.’ Harry’s deep voice greets you before he leans down to kiss you on your cheek. ‘Morning dear.’ You turn and meet his lips.  ‘Want to go for a run later?’ You suggest as you put your breakfast and cups of tea onto the dinner table. He shakes his head before taking a sip of his tea. ‘I was rather hoping we could go to a museum, I was thinking of Tate Britain?’ You smile, ‘That sounds lovely.’ ‘We can go out for dinner after,’ a familiar smirk creeps onto his face, ‘I may or may not have pulled some strings and gotten a table at Nobu.’ He was definitely planning something, so you decide to agree without prying much more.  It became much more apparent that he was planning something after he had picked out an outfit for you, which very much complimented what he would be wearing. While it was somewhat casual for Harry’s standards, many would believe it to still be quite formal. Black slacks, a perfectly ironed white shirt, a light-grey knitted jumper, and of course, oxfords, not brogues. As it was still somewhat frigid, especially in the evening, he decided to wear a black overcoat.
After a short walk to Tate Britain, the two of you strolled around the museum for hours, admiring the many pieces of art which were being displayed. He would make comments on the techniques which were used to paint certain well-known pieces, his knowledge ranging from historic to modern art. Offering his arm, he eventually leads you to John Everett Millais’ painting Ophelia. It is a beautifully detailed painting, displaying the character as it is described in Shakespeare’s play, Hamlet. The two of you had originally found a connection through your love of literature, Shakespeare being one of the first authors which came up in your initial conversations. ‘It is quite beautiful, is it not?’ He whispers in your ear. ‘It is,’ you slowly nod, ‘must’ve been quite the undertaking to add all the details which were mentioned in the Scottish play.’ ‘That, I agree with dearest.’ He chuckles. After walking through the remaining parts of the museum, it is already quite late, so you decide to take a cab to the restaurant Harry had reserved a table at. After ordering a bottle of wine and your food, the two of you enjoy quite a relaxed conversation about his business trip and what you had been up to. The dinner itself was phenomenal, the wine complimenting it, bringing out its flavours and umami. You decided to share dessert before walking back to his place, as it was closer. As you pass through Hyde park, he suddenly halts and points at the stars, which are remarkably visible. Quietly, he describes to you which stars form the different star signs, Orion, Sirius, and more.  A couple of minutes pass in silence before you feel him shift next to you. When you turn to face him, he is kneeling. ‘My love,’ he starts, ‘these past three years have been the happiest of my life.’ Pulling out a small box and opening it, he reveals a beautiful ring. ‘Will you do me the honour of spending the rest of your life with me?’ Words escape you. While you had expected him to surprise you in some way, this was outside of the scope you’d expected. Slowly, you nod, some tears escaping your eyes. ‘Yes, Harry. I do.’ ‘My love,’ He stands up, cups your face in both your hands and kisses you passionately, before putting the ring on your finger, ‘please don’t cry.’ As you look in his eyes, he himself seems moved, but something else in his eyes is unreadable to you. The rest of that night was a bit of a blur. Harry told you that he’d gone to your father and asked for your hand in marriage not too long before his latest business trip, who in turn, had agreed. He admitted that he’d been looking at rings for quite a while before that, however, because he is the gentleman he is, he thought it necessary for him to follow tradition. After a couple of weeks, the two of you decide to start living together full-time at Harry’s place, as it’d be easier to see one another on an almost daily basis that way. 
Two months after your engagement to Harry, your parents come over for dinner, as it had been a while since you had last seen them. Your mother is over the moon about the engagement and has insisted that you and Harry should marry in Italy, where you had spent most of your summers as a child. If it were up to her, the wedding would already be taking place this very summer, but because of the perfectionist your fiance is, you have decided to plan for spring of the following year. ‘So Harry, how has your work been lately?’ Your father enquires before taking a sip of his red wine. ‘It’s been busy, but I’m happy to have my lovely fiance to support me.’ Harry says as he squeezes your thigh and smiles at you. Your father doesn’t seem too convinced, however, and lets out a snort. ‘I’m sure you have been busy,’ he slowly leans forward and whispers, ‘busy blowing up my men and warehouses, perhaps?’ After sliding  a few pictures across the table, he leans back again. It was quite clear that it was Harry, the security cameras your father had installed recently in his warehouses after finding multiple men dead and the building in shambles, had captured a video of him. The second picture was Harry holding a gun and clearly shooting one of your father’s men, Antinio. You had rather liked Antonio growing up and had felt awful after his death. You turn to him after staring at the picture for what felt like an eternity.
‘What’s the meaning of this Harry?’
He swallows. ‘It is none of your concern, love.’ You stand up. ‘Yes it is,’ your voice wavering slightly, ‘Harry Hart, you are going to explain to me what you were doing shooting up my father’s people and business.’ ‘Please sit back down, dear.’ He doesn’t dare look at you. ‘Harry.’ You say sternly and he finally looks at you, the guilt in his eyes quite clear. ‘Please, I can’t, you kno-.’ He almost begs you, but it’s interrupted by the sound of a gun being loaded. You turn and look at your father pointing it at your fiance. ‘I expect you to be honest now Harry, or should I say agent Galahad?’ Harry sits deadly still, all the emotion he had shown you completely wiped off his face. Slowly, he stands up, his hands slightly up and clearly visible for your father to see. ‘You have flown too close to the sun agent; and you’re going to pay for deceiving my child.’ Your father’s voice rising to an almost screaming level. ‘Father please! Don’t hurt him!’ You scream back. ‘Can’t you see that he has used you?! The only reason he ever got together with you is to get to me! Isn’t that right?!’ You turn to Harry. ‘Tell me it isn’t true Harry.’ He doesn’t answer. ‘TELL ME!’ Tears stream down your face as he looks at you without a hit of emotion. ‘We can discuss this later, dear.’ He states before turning back to your father, whose gun was clearly shaking as a result of his anger. ‘No, you’re going to be honest, Hart, if that’s even your name.’ He motions Harry to walk around the table and stand in opposite of him, your mother shifting to stand next to your father.  Your fiance didn’t seem to be phased by the situation in the slightest while your father looks like he is about to pull the trigger. Before he can, though, Harry suddenly and swiftly kicks the gun out of his hands, with it flying across the room. Pulling out his own gun, he doesn’t hesitate to shoot your father through the head. ‘DAD! NO!!’ Before you are able to move, he does the same to your mother, who had been relatively quiet throughout the argument. ‘Mo-mo-MOM?!’ You run and fall to the ground, trying to do anything to help them. Blood covers your hands and feet as tears continue to stream down your face. ‘Ha-.’ Swallowing, you try again. ‘Ha-Harry, wh-why…’ Your hands are shaking violently as you search for anything to grab onto. ‘Wa-was it- was it all fake?’ Grabbing your father’s gun you point it at him. He doesn’t look at you. ‘HARRY, LOOK AT ME!’ He turns, taking off his glasses and putting them onto the dinner table, the once white tablecloth now splattered with blood; tainted. Crouching down, he grabs your face and kisses you before pulling you into a hug, the gun you’re holding hitting his chest. ‘You may shoot now, my love.’ Is all he whispers into your ear.
~~~~~~
Part 2
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minimitchell · 3 months
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Underrated Ballum scenes [11/?]
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rays-of-fire-and-ice · 2 months
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For What the Future Holds
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Prompt: forgiveness
Rating: K/General with mild themes
Setting: Starts Ichigo defeats Yhwach, continues into the very beginning of the ten year time skip. There’s also flashbacks to Toshiro and Momo's past dotted throughout.
Synopsis: Momo notices Toshiro is acting out of sorts ever since the war against the Quincy ended. Meanwhile, Toshiro tries to look to the future.
AN: It’s finally DONE!!
I had the idea for this ages ago (around the time of Horizons, which is why they have a similar structure as you’ll see), but it wasn’t until the 'forgiveness' prompt for the @yearoftheotpevent came up that I finally sat down and wrote it out. It didn't turn out to be the main or overarching theme and the fic itself turned into quite the emotional piece to write ^^;
This was also partly written in light of my headcanon becoming canon! I was aware of the question from Klub Outside a long time ago, but Kubo has confirmed Toshiro and Momo were neighbours rather than living under the same roof, which has always been the scenario I saw for them when I was reading BLEACH and writing fic.
Finally, this fic also has a flashback that slightly ties into When the Souls Sleep and the World is Our Own, but only in that it was a deleted scene and I found a way to include it here instead. You don’t have to read that fic to understand what happens in that scene, just that the setting is not long after they met.
Anyhow, I hope you all enjoy it!
____________________________
“I should’ve told you about it earlier.”
Momo blinks, both at the quietness of Toshiro’s voice and the bowing of his head in her peripheral. She raises her gaze to his face from the now healed over wound on his arm, cancelling the kido as she shifts over to sit next to him. “Told me about what?”
He rolls the tattered sleeve down. He contemplates what to say, staring down at his lap. Behind him, Hyourinmaru’s hilt glints, and beyond, Shinji and Kyouraku watch over those they’d dug out from the ruins earlier. Next to them, Nanao is communicating with someone in the Seireitei – Iemura, Momo suspects – trying to coordinate transportation for the injured, and Isane, bandaged up and still recovering from her own injuries, heals Aikawa. Far away at the Reio’s Palace, she can sense Rukia about to be reunited with her brother.
“That form is why I was training in the caves,” Toshiro says, diverting Momo’s attention back to him. “I should’ve told you about it sooner.
“You mean Hyourinmaru’s Completed Form?”
He nods.
Was that all? She thinks to tease him, to make light of something he seems to be treating with more seriousness than needed, but she halts at his gaze. It’s not the usual icy, determined one she’s used to.
He’s tired – and who could blame him after what they’d gone through? – and it makes him look vulnerable. Something trembles within him, something he’d likely keep hidden behind many walls.
She offers a sympathetic smile. “Why would you need to tell me about it?”
“The way you reacted before…you were startled. If you’d known before, it wouldn’t have been as much of a shock. I apologise.”
It’s true, she’d been stunned, had even flinched with a loud gasp when she first saw him, and was perhaps even a little frightened. She’d stood there, mouth agape and speechless, unable to take her eyes away from him, even as her captain swore and asked who he was. She hadn’t known how else to react, but later as he motioned her towards a piece of rubble to sit on as he explained how he had somehow become an adult, the shock wore off.
She had to resist the urge to hug him out of sheer relief, this was not the time or place for such high emotions. So she’d gotten to work on healing his wounds after he’d transformed back – but only after the others had been found and pulled out from under the rubble.
“It’s all right,” she reassures. “It was startling, yes, but I knew it was you. It was incredible, actually, but also not too surprising now that I know what it is."
He’s stunned, but hides it quickly with a clearing his throat and a deepened frown. “How so?”
“I didn’t see all of the battle you and Captain Kuchiki did with the Quincy, but what I did see was amazing. You froze the Quincy’s shield in mid-air, within a second. A-And then you froze the Quincy completely! I thought for sure he was defeated then, truly.”
He nods to himself, remembering. “So did I. He gave us more than we bargained for in the end.”
 “At least he’s gone.” Momo sighs, and with it, a weight is released. “At least…it’s over.” It’s like a vice has loosened around her head and chest. She lets out a shuddering breath and her eyes become watery. “We’re okay, now.”
“We’ll have a lot to do when we get back, it’s not…” Toshiro trails off when he meets her gaze again. His hand twitches at his side, clearly resisting moving it. After a beat, his lips shape into a faint smile and he let’s out a short, tired chuckle. “You gonna cry, bed-wetter?”
She can’t even be mad at the nickname, she becoming too overwhelmed. “No, it’s not the time and place to.” Even as she says this, she’s furiously wiping her eyes on her sleeve.
He shrugs. “No one would blame you.”
“But it’s like you said, we need to focus on the task at hand.” She gestures to the others a short distance away. “On transporting the injured back and figuring out what our next steps are.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” His smile widens a fraction. “I won’t tell anyone.”
Despite herself, she can’t help but grin back. She sniffs and looks down. “I’m just so glad it’s over.”
He only nods with a hum.
A silence passes between them, and Momo slowly realises her own exhaustion. She has enough energy to cast lower powered kido, but even then she might be pushing it. She finds herself sitting back against the same piece of broken wall Toshiro is, listening to the distant chatter amongst their friends and wreckage crumbling and falling. She cranes her neck on the rubble’s edge, looking up at the sky.
She’d seen him soar across it hours ago, only a spec at times, and a more recognisable figure at others. At one point, the cold of his reiatsu had washed over her like a gust in a blizzard, freezing and chilling her to bone. It ebbed away minutes later, but it made her realise the magnitude of his powers. She'd wondered if he had this power this entire time and had chosen not to unveil it until now, when he needed it most to protect the Soul Society. If he was capable of this now, who knew what he could achieve in the future.
But then her mind rolls into another thought, one that makes heat rush up the back of her neck to her ears and try to suppress a chuckle.
“What is it?”
By this point Toshiro had closed his eyes.
“It’s nothing important.”
He opens one eye, unconvinced. “The spike your reiatsu said otherwise.”
She bites the inside of her cheek, chastising herself internally for not keeping it under control. She’s tired, but it’s no excuse. She lets out a small chuckle. “I was thinking that, in a funny way, Hyourinmaru’s Completed Form has given us a glimpse into the future. It’s shown us what you’ll look like when you grow up.”
She had meant it as a tease, to try and lighten the mood, but Toshiro’s frown deepens. As if realising his reaction was unexpected, he let’s out a snort. “Anything can happen between now and then to change how I look.”
The usual bite is not there. The response itself is strange, too.
Before she can ask, her captain comes up to both of them, asking for her help with moving Aikawa’s injured leg into a makeshift splint.
As she rises and leaves with her captain, Toshiro’s smile fades away, and he stares into his lap. No, into something else.
___________________________________
There was a time where future went as far as Granny.
What would she need today? What days was she planning to go out and shop? Would he need to help her with?
When would she pass away?
Toshiro never lingers on that last thought, always distracting himself with whatever he could. At the moment, it’s with sweeping the house and yard.
He’s up to the front porch, pushing the dust and dirt off the edge with the broom. Granny is inside, sewing a new garment together for him.
“You’ve grown again,” she’d remarked earlier with a smile. “You’ll need new clothes now.”
As far as he could tell he hadn’t. The ground seemed to be as far away as it was a week ago, and he hadn’t put on any weight. But he had to admit his clothes the last few days had seemed a fraction shorter at his legs and tighter around his shoulders.
It’s a few minutes later when he hears yelling. A group of children rush past his house, some giggling, others chattering about Momo, who's at the center of attention. She excitedly tells them her application exam date, beaming so wide it must hurt her cheeks.
When was she going to the Academy?
That one stung, and he ignores it with a sweep of the brush.
Months ago, he’d asked Jidanbo what it took to become a Shinigami. The giant was just as surprised as Toshiro had expected him to be.
“Have you changed your mind about not going, Toshiro-kun?” Jidanbo had asked.
“No,” is all he said.
Realising he wasn’t going to elaborated, Jidanbo had shrugged and said, “First, you must have spiritual potential and the ability to show it. You go to the Shinigami Academy, where you learn to become a Shinigami. The exam to get in is tough, sometimes you have to take it multiple times --” he'd rubbed the back of his neck “ -- like I did. My brother was more lucky, he only took the exam once and got in. Once you’ve passed, you’re enrolled in the next semester and that’s about it.”
Toshiro already know even if Momo didn’t get a pass on the exam the first time, she’ll go for it again and again and again, until she was enrolled.
He’d seen her enthusiasm long before this. The day she’d rushed to him, her cheeks flushed and her hair whipped around her from running to find him, and taken him back to his house to show him what she’d just accomplished. She’d cupped her hands together, and several seconds later, a white glow emanated from between the gaps in her fingers. When she’d pulled her hands apart, the orb radiating in her palms broke apart into smaller orbs that floated away. Momo chortled in delight, and Toshiro almost did the same. When she was this joyous it was often contagious, especially when he eyes are so wide with wonder and elation.
What had stopped him was a single thought, one that shot through him and made him realise just how far he’d let her into his life.
One day, she’ll be gone. 
____________________________
The next time Momo sees Toshiro is on her way to the First Division. Shinji runs ahead of her on the walkway, listing off the topics they will need to discuss with Kyoraku. She’d been listening intently, but got distracted as they passed Twelfth Division.
From this high up, she couldn’t recognise most of Shinigami out and about, but the moment she saw one with white hair and a short stature and his cold reiatsu faintly emanated up to her, she knew it was Toshiro. He steps out of Twelfth Division’s main barracks, followed by Rangiku. There’s something morose about the way they hold themselves and in their slow walk to the division’s main gate entrance. They come to a stop just as a building blocks Momo view.
“You all right back there?” Shinji asks.
“Sorry, sir! I just saw Rangiku-san and Captain Hitsugaya.”
“Ah.”
“…Are they coming to this meeting too?”
“Nah, just us, Third, and Eighth.” She can hear his grin when he continues after a beat, “Were you hoping to socialise with them?”
“Of course not!” Momo scoffs.
It’s left at that. Still, she thinks back on how they had looked. She’d be sure to visit them sometime soon, if all goes according to plan with the reconstruction of the Districts.
________________________________
Momo found him sitting on the front porch of his house, peeling chestnuts. He hadn’t noticed her at first, but when her footsteps scrapped against the dirt path, he looks up.
“What’re you staring at?” Toshiro asks.
“Sorry, I just came to visit,” she says as she comes closer. “What are these for?”
He senses there’s more to this than just a visit, but he puts it aside for now. “Baa-chan is making chestnut rice tonight. She was going to ask you to come take some back to your house. She always does it in big batches.”
Momo grins. “That’s kind of her.”
Toshiro only shrugs with a huff. Momo’s grin falls into a small, unsure smile. He’s quick to pick up a nut from the tub in front of him, peel the shell off with a small knife, then put it with the others ready for Granny.
“In that case, do you mind if I help?” Momo says. “I can’t let her do that for me and my friends without helping her.”
“You don’t need to.”
“I want to.”
She makes herself comfortable next to him. She takes a spare knife from the tray he’d brought out, then collects several chestnuts from the tub. He opens his mouth, but shut it after she starts peeling. What had he wanted to say? Did he want to tell her to leave? Did he want to ask about the Academy?
Save for the knifes cracking open and peeling the shells, there’s silence between them. In front of her, the day passes, clouds moving across the sky and the sun shining down on the swaying trees and lively Junrinan a short distance away.
After a moment, Momo pauses as she takes another chestnut. In his periphery, she fiddles with it between her hands, as if trying to wring something out of it. She puts the knife to the chestnut, but is slow to peel the shell away.
She nervous, perhaps gearing herself up to say something. He already knows she’s going to Academy, remembers her loud declaration to Granny several weeks ago that was equal parts ecstatic and anxious. He didn’t want to reflect on his behaviour since she announced it, but he knows he’s become more sullen towards her.
Granny chastised more than once him, saying he should be happier for her and congratulate her; but he can’t ignore the tightness in his chest every time he thinks about her leaving. He hates that she had become a annoying and welcomed constant in his live for the last few decades, and even worse, that he had imagined what the future – whether it was the next week or the next year – would be like, and she was there in his imaginings, along with Granny and Jidanbo. Never used to even think about the future, his life had been repetitive until she came along.
After taking off the chestnut’s shell, Momo stops. “Can I ask you something?”
Toshiro continues peeling. “Hm?”
“Even if you don’t become a Shinigami, can we still be friends?”
Toshiro halts. His brows furrow, but he still doesn’t look at her. “What’s with that question?”
“I mean, while I’m at the Academy we won’t be seeing each other too much. And when I become a Shinigami, it’ll be even less. We’re friends, and, um…I want to stay friends, even when we’ve grown up.”
Her voice wavers towards the end, losing what confidence she’d built up to speak to him.
Toshiro blinks down at the chestnut in his hands. Somewhere around them, the leaves rustle in the wind, and a bird chirps and another caws back in response. The last parts of the shell fall away.
“You might be different by then,” he says solemnly, still unable to look at her.
Momo presses her lips into a tight line. “Well, of course. Everyone changes as they grow up. They become more mature and responsible.”
“Not all adults are.”
“Most though.” She drops her chestnut into the peeled pile. “I don’t know how often I’ll be allowed to visit, but I’ll write to you as often as I can.”
“Don’t bother.”
“Huh?”
“You’ll be doing your Shinigami stuff, you won’t have time.”
“B-But I want to.”
He finally looks at her. At the hurt that flickers through her eyes, he wants to take it back. She obviously hadn’t expected this coldness from him. Yes, his usual bratiness can make him say some hurtful things on occasion, but this is different for her. This was a side of him she rarely saw, and it’s a side she is never on the end of.
But what’s the use? She’ll go to the Academy and forget about him. She’ll make new, better friends. Ones she can go into the future with and who can understand the struggles and triumphs she’ll experience as a Shinigami.
“Do whatever you want then.”
His comment doesn’t ease the turmoil in her, with her gaze falling off to the side and her shoulders slumping. She’s on the verge of a sob, but she bravely keeps it back. “Are you saying you don’t think we should be friends anymore?”
It’s an opening he should take. He has to start letting her go, so it won’t hurt so much when she turns away, and stops being a part of his future.
“I…I’m not saying that.” He’s weak. “I’m just being realistic. You’ll be busy, you won’t have the time to write to us.”
It’s not the answer she expects. Her eyes widen and her lips part, but she doesn’t speak for several heartbeats. She's stuck between being confused and stunned. “I-I’d make time. Of course I’d make time!”
Her earnestness and fierce determination fracture what little resolve he had left. “Well then, let’s see you try.”
_____________________________
Momo glances at Toshiro from across the meeting hall.
He’d just stepped back into line after reporting on his areas for reconstruction. His division is doing well, ahead of schedule in fact.
Normally the thought would make her happy. He’s always been a hard worker; never for the sake of wanting to one-up another or show off, but because he wanted to do good for others. It was one of her favourite things about him.
But something about him is different. The war against the Quincy and taking in the total devastation it had caused had affected all of them, changing each of them in both subtle and obvious ways.
Toshiro holds himself differently. There’s the usual stoicism on his face, and the straight, pulled back shoulders and slightly raised chin that have been a part of his posture since he became a captain.
It’s his hands. They’re curled in loose fists at his side. Something is on his mind, and whatever it is, it’s causing him to be tense. His gaze shows he’s present, now listening to Mayuri give his report into his latest findings, but there’s something going on in the back of his mind he can’t escape from.
She wishes she could cross the room and take one of his hands.
_____________________________
“Don’t bother coming back, bed-wetter!”
Please come back.
And she must see through him, because her high spirits aren’t dampened as she continues to smile and wave at him. He’ll never understand how she can be so cheerful so often.
Eventually, she has to turn away from him and navigate her way through the growing crowds. After she vanishes and as Granny gently chastises him for his rudeness, he can’t dismiss the thought that haunts him. The same thought that had made him try to disconnect from her weeks ago.
What if she doesn’t?
_____________________________
Momo watches Toshiro ponder over the map of the North districts. Each was outlined in the colour of the division that has jurisdiction over them, Fifth Division’s in turquoise and Tenth Division’s in dark green.
“So we’ll tackle this area together,” Shinji says while drawing his finger along the border between the North districts nineteen and twenty. “It makes sense seeing as our jurisdictions are night next to each other. Also, saves us on costs if you go with shared resources, right?”
Both Toshiro and Rangiku nod.
“Have you brought this up with the Captain Commander yet?” Toshiro asks.
“Not yet. We went to a meeting about…” he lifts his gaze to the ceiling of Tenth Division’s office, trying to recall.
“It’s was a month ago, sir,” Momo quietly offers.
Shinji snaps his fingers. “Yes, thank you, Hinamori! Geez, we’ve been to so many meetings lately I’m getting them confused.”
Toshiro scoffs. Momo tries not to smile in response; it’s the first normal, in-character thing she’s seen him do since they arrived.
“Anyway, at that meeting, the Captain Commander suggested a few ways we can save on costs for the reconstruction efforts, one of which was shared resources. Sure you got told the same whenever you went to you met with him yourselves." Shinji jerks his thumb towards Momo. “My lieutenant here suggested we collaborate on the districts that border with other divisions, like yours.”
Momo can’t help but lift her chin a little at the credit her captain gave her. Sometimes he had a way of making one feel accomplished, even over the smallest things.
Rangiku grins. “It’s a great idea, and not surprised that it came from you, Hina-chan.”
Momo laughs nervously. “Rangiku-san…”
“Stop, you’ll make her overheat,” Shinji teases.
“Sir, honestly!” Momo retorts.
He only laughs, but he eyes Toshiro. So he’d noticed it too. Normally situations like this riled her childhood friend up, made him shout something along the lines of ‘We need to focus right now!’ or simply glare at him. Toshiro’s eyes were on the map, jumping to all the districts under his jurisdiction.
It was barely perceptible, but Momo could see with each district he eyes, a little more weight is added to his shoulders.
Shinji quickly returns things to the business at hand. Several minutes later, her captaina nd Toshiro agree to do reconstruction together.
As Shinji and Rangiku start on a plan, Toshiro stands up rorm the couch. “I’ll go get a pot of tea.”
“Do you need assistance with that?” Momo asked, ready to rise up.
He shakes his head. “No, thank you.”
He leaves while Rangiku and Shinji continue to hash out a plan. His walk would not seem out of the ordinary to most, Momo saw the weight in his shoulders from before, and just as she’d noticed when she first arrived, that he forced himself to stared straight ahead, and not once at her.
___________________________
He regrets every bad thing he’s ever said to her. Every angry exclamation. Every promise or important day he’d forgotten. Every time he scared her for a laugh when they were children. Every tease about her.
He barely manages a landing, his whole body numb with horror. Ice keeps breaking around them. He can hear yelling, but it’s muffled around the ringing in his ears. For the first time in his life, he’s too cold.
She finally stirs, and her hazy, fading eyes stare up at him. He shakes and can barely breathe. He might collapse, but she’s keeping him rigid and frozen in place. She says his nickname, a pierces through him, hitting a part of him that he always associated with first meeting her. The memory of it, the feeling of someone finally looking at him like he wasn’t so different, and letting it warm him into a fleeting sense of security.
“…Why?”
Something in him shatters. 
He should’ve been kinder. Why hadn’t he been? Because he’d been a child who didn’t know better when they first met. Because he’d been alone for so long he didn’t know how to interact with others. Because he’d been scared. Because he’d let her in too far. Because he didn’t know a life without her anymore.
____________________________
An evening breeze blows through the streets of the South Second district, swaying the lanterns of restaurants and brushing Momo’s hair over her shoulders. It reminds her she needs to get it cut, but then she had thought of –
“That was a really good meal.”
Momo looks over to Rangiku , who interlaces her fingers and stretches her arms over her head with a grin.
“It was,” Momo says with her own smile. “I’m glad you recommended that place. We should take the other Women’s Association members there sometime.”
“Yeah, I thought so too. I wanted to try it out with you first.” She winks as she lowers her arms. “It’s been a while since we had a girls night out, huh?”
Momo’s smile widens. After recovering from the battle in the Fake Karakura Town and being discharged from Fourth Division, Rangiku had arranged for the two of them to have lunches and dinners together. They’d be casual mostly, chatting about work for only a short while before moving on to longer discussions about their hobbies, who they’d caught up with lately, and there were a few times they’d left wherever they'd eaten from and gone shopping together. Every now and then, particularly in the beginning, their chatter would turn sombre. They’d reflect on what had happened, whether it was Aizen’s betrayal or Gin’s death, and it took some effort to return the conversation back to something lighter.
Momo remembers the look that would come over Rangiku’s face during those moments. As her friend stares ahead into the growing crowds, she can see hints of that old expression. Her eyes are hooded, her eyes take on a glassiness, and she ignores things – like the loud cheering of an izakaya they pass by, or the sprinting children that almost bump into them before dodging off to the side. What was most telling though was Rangiku didn’t comb her fingers through her hair and complain about the wind ruining her hairstyle.
Like Toshiro, something had been bothering her, but unlike him, she seems to be bouncing back from it quicker. Still, she had moments like this where she grew quiet and solemn. It sends a twinge through Momo’s chest. “Can I ask you something, Rangiku-san?”
Her friend blinks and “Hm?”
Momo’s hesitation catches up to her. She’d wanted to ask before she’d come to dinner, but at seeing Rangiku being her usual boisterous and jolly self, the question had faded into the background.
“I was wonder…”
If she asks her now, she can finally know what happened. Of course, it wouldn’t be Rangiku’s place to say what happened to Toshiro…but what if it was the same thing that affected her?
“…I was wonder if you, uh…”
Momo recalls the two of them leaving Twelfth that day over a month ago, and the chances are whatever it was…
“Do you have any style recommendations for my hair? I was thinking of growing it out rather than getting it cut again.”
Without realising, Rangiku had brought them to a stop in the middle of the street. Souls pass around them, some with skeptical or awed looks, others completely ignoring them. The wind dies down, leaving Rangiku hair slightly frizzy. There’s a gentle smile on her lips, and a knowing look briefly comes across her eyes. Had she known what Momo truly wanted to ask?
But she couldn’t bring herself to, not when it occurred to her that asking Rangiku would potentially expose what has been bothering Toshiro too. She didn’t want to put her friend in an uncomfortable position, but with a tightening of her heart, it dawns on her that asking Toshiro would only do the same for Rangiku.
She’d trapped.
“Yeah, I can think of a few,” Rangiku eventually says. "I'll bring some ideas at the next Women's Association."
Momo blinks.
Rangiku had spoken quietly, uncharacteristic given that hair and fashion were topics she often spoke fervently about. Momo manages to take a deep breath in that looks natural enough, and then a small smile. “I thought you would. Thank you.”
____________________________
Come back.
Toshiro pleads it in silence to the night sky on another sleepless night.
He’d known her for so long, had let her become his closest friend. Her being there as they grew older, as they rose up the ranks of the Shinigami and protected the Seireitei, was an inevitability. How naïve he had been. For all of his posturing and talk of responsibilities and knowledge that any of his subordinates could die on missions, she had somehow become the exception.
Somehow, she would live on forever with him.
How can he have clung to such childish ideals?
Come back, he pleads again. I know now. I want things to be different.
_________________________________
Shafts of the sunrise spill into Momo’s room. She sits up before her alarm clock goes off. Rubbing her eyes and lifting the blanket away, she starts her day.
Nerves thrum through her, and no matter what she tells herself or how many times she goes over the plan for today, they don’t settle.
Today is their first day working together with Tenth Division.
After bathing and changing into her uniform, she steps up the mirror to brush her hair. After a few minutes, she takes up her hair clip and clips it in place.
She stares at her reflection, and after a beat, worries her bottom lip. She sighs and lowers her head with tightly shut eyes. How is she going to get through today?
_____________________________
Momo bound up the stairs towards him. Her recently cut hair tousles around her, and she beams widely. She’s obviously dying to tell him something, even shouts his nickname. Perhaps because they’re not in vicinity of his subordinates or the other Captains and Lieutenants, or perhaps because her joy is so often infectious, he chooses not to shout the usual correction at her.
In fact, Toshiro can't help but smile. He’s been doing that more lately.
He decided to be more open, with her first, and eventually with others.
When she stops in front of him and began to gush over a new project she was working on with her division, he has trouble covering up the reaction he has to the relieved, cathartic ache in his heart. Her forgiveness is still raw, even after all these months. Thankfully, she’s so caught up in her excitement she doesn’t see him briefly glance away to regain his composure.
The future was brighter, but the fact there was even a future with her after everything is a blessing all of it’s own.
_____________________________
From a distance, Toshiro orders his and a few of Fifth Division’s officers to do various tasks, and after they disperse, he goes to the next group.
Momo looks back to the map of North District Nineteen and continues outlining the area she and her subordinates will work on. In her periphery, Shinji finishes speaking with Takaya and Katsuro, and makes his way over to Toshiro before he can reach the group.
She tries to ignore the exchange, but her ears unwittingly tune in, catching bits and pieces of their conversation over the shouts of subordinates, sandals crunching in the dirt, and equipment being unloaded from carts. From what she’d (unintentionally) been able to tell, they discuss their findings so far.
She keeps a wince from reaching her face and she recalls their brief meeting this morning. She only gave Toshiro a glance, keeping her eyes either on Rangiku or somewhere behind the two of them. Toshiro retained a stoic exterior, even made a few pointed comments towards Shinji like he did when her captain annoyed him, but that heaviness in his shoulders and eyes is still there. She wishes she could just wave it away, like the wind pushing the clouds across the sky overhead.
It had been over a month since the war ended. He hasn’t said anything to her, and she can’t tell of it’s because of the work they’ve had to do or because he doesn’t want to. Was he concerned for Rangiku? Was it something he didn’t think she’d understand? Would it hurt her?
She shakes her head. She repeatedly tries to tell herself it’s none of her business, but her concern and burgeoning frustration doesn’t waver. Both grow when she can sense, for only several seconds, his gaze on the side of her face.
_____________________________
He doesn’t recall anything of his time as a ‘zombie’ to the Quincy, nor does he want to.
The last thing he remembered was collapsing, his ice shattering around him. Time slowed, as in that moment he thought about how this could be the end. It certainly felt like it was. He was so weak, so very tired and hurting, but he was still awake when the shadow fell over him.
However, the old cliché he’d been told about didn’t happen. He didn’t think on or remember his past. He didn’t despair that he was dying.
He'd thought about Rangiku, dying below, with no one to help her.
He'd thought about his subordinates, who would be without a captain again.
As a darkness began to settle around the edges of his blurred vision, he thought about Momo. He’d sensed her before, she’d been far away from where he was. She reiatsu had been strong, she was all right.
He didn’t need to protect her. Yet he still wanted to see her. For the last few seconds before the darkness took over and muffled footsteps and a sickly sweet voice reach his ears, he thought about the fact he won’t be there in her future.
His next memory is of being put in the recovery tanks along with Rangiku. At the time he’d been exhausted from the procedure Mayuri had made him endure – he vaguely recalls Mayuri half sarcastically marveling, “I’m quite surprised you’re conscious right now.”
He was lifted and secured into the tank by Nemu. Mayuri had watched him, and didn’t approach until Nemu stepped aside. He’d spoken at him, but Toshiro wavered between consciousness and falling into a warmer darkness and only caught sections of his sentences.
“The tank will complete the de-zombification…Consider yourself…Lieutenant is…My procedure took…years off your lifespan, but…we’ll take you to the Palace, no doubt you will…”
And the tank lid had lowered as Toshiro bowed his head. As he drifted into unconsciousness, his mind clung to one part of what Mayuri had said.
My procedure took…years off your lifespan…
He vaguely remembered thinking he must have misheard.
He hadn't focused on it when he awoke again and left the tank, choosing instead to thank Mayuri and rush off into the fray with Rangiku. She surely heard too, but he'd kept quiet about it. He’d been truly grateful and yet, that piece of information, it lingered quietly in the back of his mind.
He’d focused on the fight against the Giant Quincy, and had to resort to using Hyourinmaru’s Completed Form. He thought only of battle strategies and ways to keep his enemy distracted from either destroying the Soul Society below or from causing further harm to those still in the area. 
It's now hours after the Quincy had evaporated away, and he and Byakuya found Momo and Shinji, safe.
She's been clearly startled by his appearance. He didn't know what to expect, had never really thought about her reaction to seeing him like this, but he dislikes her being so confused and unsure. Certain there's no immediate danger in their vicinity and with Byakuya scouting the area, takes her aside to explain the Completed Form.
Shock turns recognition, and then finally to relief. He can't help but feel she same moments later when he's transformed back and she heals his injuries. It's only a few minutes later when Mayuri’s words fully hit him. From then on, he can barely look her in the eye.
_____________________________
The setting sun halos Toshiro's hair, and his shadow casts long over the rubble. He stands alone, arm folded and back facing those a short distance away, clearly lost in thought.
In different circumstances, it would’ve posed as quite the striking image for Momo; one she would be tempted to capture in either her drawings or as a photo on her denreishiki.
His subordinates walk around her, gathering up the materials and equipment they’d used. She didn’t have to interact with him at all today, and even if she did, she’s not sure how she would go about it.
Somewhere behind her, Shinji calls out for officers to help with lifting some of the ruins into carts to be cleared off. She turns to go and assist, but its hard to take her eyes off her friend. The turmoil from earlier arises. She can’t ask him what's wrong, and he won’t even look at her unless she doesn't notice. Still, she can’t leave him as is.
With a deep breath in, and then out, she walks to him.
Her steps crunch from the smaller pieces of rubble and dirt, and alert him to her approach. He half twists around to her, and it causes her to stop more than an arms length away.
“I was wondering…” She hadn’t thought about what to say. But with a light snort, she manages. “Sorry, I was wondering if you had any further plans for Higuchi-san or Takagaki-san. We need some help with clearing the wreckage into the carts.”
Toshiro blinks, as if coming out of deep thought. With a small shake of his head, he turns back to the sunset. “No, I have nothing for them. Their performance was good, if you need to know.”
“Oh, thank you. I’ll be sure to tell my Captain. They’re both hard workers, so that isn’t too surprising to hear.”
“I sent them with Narita to set up the rations for distribution. They should be finished by now.”
Momo swallows against the growing tightness in her throat. She gives a nod, not trusting her words, and only lingers for a few seconds more before turning to go. She wants to kick herself for not coming up with something better, something that would make her stay with him a bit longer and force him to talk with her.
She’s taken ten steps when Toshiro calls to her.
“Wait, Hinamori.”
She looks over her shoulder, squinting against the setting sun. She can’t make out his expression, but his arms now rest at his sides, and his shoulders are higher, straighter. There’s a resoluteness there, but somehow also a reluctance.
He approaches her, but stops after a few steps. He speaks lowly, and it’s hard to make out what he says. She has no choice but to come closer.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear what you said, Captain.”
The corners of his mouth fall and tighten into a scowl – not directed at her, she’s certain.
“When we’re done here, I want to discuss something with you,” he repeats. “I assume you don’t have time for today so I –”
“I do!” Momo would normally balk at her boldness – especially for interrupting someone, let alone a Captain. But it was if she’d been holding her breath on the brink of passing out, and now she was desperate to get air. “I-I’ll have time after we’re done here. We can talk.”
Toshiro had been surprised, but shifts his expression back to neutral. “It won’t take long. Let’s load those carts first and get back to Tenth Division.”
He walks past her, and for a moment, it's as if the heaviness within him lingers over her. Whatever this would be, she's both eager and dreading to know.
____________________________
“How long do Souls live for?”
Toshiro rolls his eyes. Ever since she got here, Momo had been full of questions. She’s more curious than the average Soul, wanting to know every little detail about her new world she called home. Just a few minutes ago she’d asked a range of questions about what rules she needs to follow she didn’t end up in trouble – as he answered her, it reminded him of telling Jidanbo the Rules of City for the first time.
Before he answers her current question, he kicks a small hill of snow just in front of them, sending a white spray into the care tree they stood under. “It depends. Some live for a few decades, others live for thousands of years.”
Over the many layers she wore up to her the bottom half of her face, Momo’s eyes widened in wonder. “Really? That’s such a long time.”
“Not to them,” he says. “Time here is different to the World of Living, or so I’ve heard.”
“Thousands of years…you can do so much in that time!”
She starts listing off various activities and adventures one could do for over a thousand years, all the while her eyes shone, and when a scarf loosened from around her face, it revealed her wide grin.
He doesn’t understand her glee. Was this something specific to Souls that came from the World of the Living? Humans lived far shorter lives than Souls; perhaps the idea of being able to live that long appealed to them. He’d been born in the Junrinan, he knew only this world, and from what Granny had told him, ten years here likely felt like a year in the World of the Living.
He let’s her go on and on with her list, but when she comes to an end, breathless, she says, “Do Souls know how long they’ll live for?”
He lets out a bewildered snort. “Of course not!”
“Oh…” That dampens her enthusiasm, as if he’d popped a bubble. Before he can feel any guilt, she turns her attention back to the silhouette of the Seireitei in the distance. “So, I guess this means the Shinigami in there have been alive for a long time then.”
He shrugs. “Sure, I guess.”
It’s several heart beats later when her grin returns, but there’s a softness to it. “I hope we get to live for over a thousand years.”
He’s taken aback. We? Why 'we'? Why not ‘I’?
He wants to ask, but fears he’ll embarrass himself. So instead, he ponders on it in silence as she continues to admire the Seireitei’s silhouette. Did she mean it as a friend? That she saw them being in the future together?
Granny had been the only person who saw a future with him, planning their days with what items he’d have to go out and buy and what shrines or places they needed to visit together in the coming month.
Something about another seeing him in their future made bite the inside of his lip against the painful pang in his chest. Somehow, though, it also made him happy.
“What if we did?”
He hadn’t realised he’d asked the question aloud until Momo swivels her head back to him. “Hm?”
He shakes his head. “Nothing.”
“You mean if we live for over a thousand years?” He cringes inwardly as she considers. Her grin widens after a beat. “We’d have a lot to do, I’m sure of it!”
____________________________
Momo stares mutely at Toshiro, and then at some point, through him, and then into nothing. He shifts his gaze to the side, staring hard at the corner of the training room.
Just behind them, Fifth and Tenth Division officers shared a meal together in one of Tenth Division’s courtyards around a fire, chattering and laughing amongst themselves. Even in her shock, Momo ended up hearing her captain laugh loudly at one of his own jokes, but she can’t bring herself to smile or cringe.
She and Toshiro sit by the training room's entrance, mostly in the shadows. A strip of moonlight comes between them through the doorway, falling over his left foot and her folded knees. He sits half against the wall, his left knee bent and his arms resting in his lap. It would appear to some as the most relaxed he’s ever looked, but this is one of the few times she’s seen him look resigned.
He’d just recounted to her how a Quincy had taken control over him with her blood, and then how Mayuri had restored him. It had all made sense up until that point, but not what he’d just said. No, it was more like she didn’t want the sentence to be true, refused to let it be a part of what he'd already said.
She brings her gaze back to him as a small tremor runs through her hands. “I don’t understand,” she struggles to say. “What do you mean? How can you live for only three hundred more years?”
She thinks he won’t answer her, too overcome by whatever emotions rush through him. However, he takes a sharp breath in, but continues to stare off to the side. “Kurotsuchi says that’s at most, but it’s at least one hundred and fifty years. The procedure he used on me was crude by his standards, something he cobbled together while we were battling the Quincy. As a result of that and what the Quincy did to me, my lifespan has been reduced.”
“You’ve acting differently lately --” her voice catches, and her vision becomes misty “-- now I understand why.”
A quiet, strangled sound comes from Toshiro. “Matsumoto thought it was best to tell you.”
And it’s all the confirmation she needs that Rangiku is facing the same tragedy. She must have seen Momo’s dilemma that night they ate out, and decided to make things easier by encouraging Toshiro to tell her. She could cry for that alone, but she won’t; she’ll speak with her later.
She bows over, fisted hands bunching her uniform at the knees. “I-I don’t know what to say,” she laments. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through.”
That strikes something within him. He shifts, his back fully pressing against the wall and moving his foot out of the moonlight. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and she can make out the furrow in his brow twitching and the corner of his mouth dropping into a grimace.
His gaze goes to the ceiling. “I didn’t want to say anything,” he admits. “There’s nothing I can do.”
The catch in his voice is enough to make her move over to him, coming to sit next to him, their shoulders grazing and her knee bumping up against his. She rarely sits so close to him, feeling they should maintain a small distance between them, but this felt right. And judging from his lack of comment or shrugging away, he thinks the same.
“I’m sorry for what I said at the Palace.”
He blinks and finally looks at her. “What?”
She can’t help but be a little relieved he’d forgotten her comment, but winced at having to bring it up now. “I said Hyourinmaru’s Completed Form was a glimpse into the future. How careless of me.”
He shakes his head, but still doesn’t seem to remember. “It’s fine, you weren’t to know.”
“Even so, I should have been more considerate. That form is part of your zanpakuto, not something to be joked about.”
“You were shocked by it, and we’d come out of a battle and Yhwach was defeated, it’s understandable.”
She considers, and then admits, “And we were really tired, I guess.”
That gets a huff of a humoured snort out of him, but it doesn’t reach his eyes or shape his into a faint smile.
The urge to hold his hand comes over her again. Unlike that meeting from a few weeks ago, she doesn’t resist it this time. She takes the one closest to her. It’s the one that been regrown with hojiku-zai, the original lost on the battlefield at the Fake Karkura Town. She doesn’t hold his conventionally, choosing instead to lay her hand on the underside, and her fingers loosely come between his.
She watches him tilts his head down, staring at their hands. Something soft flits over his face, something akin to being pleasantly surprised.
For not the first time, she thinks on how she never imagined all those decades ago he would lose and replace a hand. Just as she’d never imagined what they went through because of Aizen, or the battles they fought against Hollows and Quincy, or the people they’ve lost under their watch. They’d been through so much, perhaps too much for Souls their ages.
Despite the time and effort it will take to rebuild the Soul Society, she had been thinking that peace was finally going to be restored. She was going to be happy again, with her friends and subordinates. She was going to ask Toshiro out to lunches more often, and finally sit with whatever her feelings for him were. The ones she’s can’t put a name too, but feels she’s just on cusp of doing.
Had he thought about these sort of things too? About what he had been through and the future he may not have anymore? If that was the case, it’s no wonder he didn’t want to bring it up. It’s enough for one of her tears to roll out the side of her eye.
She’s quick to wipe it with her free hand, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by Toshiro.
“I’m sorry,” he rasps.
She shakes her head. “Why are you apologising? You didn’t ask for any of this.”
“No, it’s not that. I didn't want to...”
He hesitates, and when he doesn’t continue, Momo finishes it for him. "Hurt me?"
He blinks, surprised she had guessed the rest. It still astounds her that he can't see the good within himself, but always in others.
"You don't need to apologise. When I saw something was bothering you, I wanted to know."
She senses there's more, a second apology he wants to make. When he doesn't, she stares straight ahead.
“We Shinigami are taught and prepared to die in battle for Humans and our friends,” she continues. “If we’re lucky, we can reach an old age with our accomplishments. Thinking about how long we'll live for is not something we're supposed to contemplate, our focus is on our duties and responsibilities. Even so, we’re not meant to die like this. You’re not meant to --”
He snorts again, and the faintest, saddest smile shapes his lips. “You’re not Reio, Hinamori,” he says, and she can imagine in another setting it would be a tease. “And even if you were, you doubt you would have the power to change this. I have accepted it's a likely possibility, and I will plan ahead accordingly. I never thought about how long I would live for --" his shoulders deflate with a shaky breath "-- and I shouldn't."
"Nothing is set in stone," she says, fiercely.
She’s always considered herself an optimist, perhaps to a fault. She remembers being more hopeful for the future when she was younger. Maybe that’s what came with growing up, you lose a little bit of hope every year, and cling to what still remains – foolishly, she suspects some think, but not her.
With a thick swallow, she lists her head up to the ceiling. “You said before that Captain Kurotsuchi was working on a way to restore your lifespan, right?”
“Yes.”
She mirrors the faint smile he'd had moments ago, but in her misty eyes there’s something less fragile. She tightens her grip on his hand. “Then let’s hope he does.”
It doesn’t dissolve his grief and cynicism -- she knows he hates leaving something he feels responsible for in the hands of others, and she can’t imagine what it must feel like to put your life in the hands of Twelfth Division’s captain. She has not words she can offer to console him or give him a new perspective of this. She has her own emotions to deal with too, ones of helplessness and a flickering hope, small but bright.
Her heart throbs when he flips his hand around and interlaces his fingers between hers in a tight grip. It's all they can do for now as a cloud passes over the moon and the laughter continues outside.
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