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itsabouttimex2 · 23 hours

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Plot Idea: Azure Lion unknowingly had a child with his lover before his defeat and death at the hands of Sun Wukong. Subsequently leaving his lover (and future Cub) to live on without him. Maybe their mother passes away during their birth? The kid long out lives their human family and their friends and their village.

Alone, sad and bored they go off on their own to explore the city that they’ve heard traveler’s passing through their village speak off. Megapolis is a bit overwhelming for them at first but they come across Pigsy’s Noodles. Pigsy seeing this borderline feral kid looking in his shop hesitated on shooing them away and offers them some food, a few years later MK arrives and the rest is history…

They finally meet Azure with MK and Mei trying to get the scroll. The kid has no idea that he’s their dad and Azure is just shocked to see them. He sees both himself and his old lover in their features.

His kid feels extra betrayed and he can see it in their eyes when the group confronts the now reunited brotherhood. They are 100% on MK’s side and don’t hesitate to fight with the group.

Maybe they land some heavy enough hits the Azure has to leave them behind or maybe he’s able to capture them and force them to come along with him and his brothers. Though with their rather vicious stubbornness they might be more of a hinderance to his quest than he’d like. Maybe he traps them in the scroll and keeps them on his waist like he does with Wukong?

I’d love to hear your thoughts about this idea 💖

Leonine Love

This is a really fun (and kinda sad) idea! I’m a big fan, actually! I loved this so much that I wrote a little (admittedly, non-yandere) intro because this is such a creative and interesting story idea.

Just… Lion!Y/N being pried the arms of their dead mother, taken in by humans who recall Azure not as a delusional tyrant but a hero, recalling his mighty blade and fondness for mortals. How he knelt to level with children, how he stopped to help with the harvest. Feeling as though they owe him, the village takes you in and raises your as their own, watching in awe as your leonine ears and tail come in, marveling at the cyan growths.

Through a few generations you grow from infant to child, just in time for the legends of your father’s exploits to be consigned from legend to rumor, and now all the love you were lavished with has turned to dust.

To these new folk you are more fixture than family, an ever-present individual that they merely accustom to.

No more praise or warm embraces, no further tales of your ‘heroic papa’. All that you know about him is written on an old scroll that none are allowed to touch. Each story has been carefully penned, allowing you to preserve the legacy of a father you’ve never met.

With that scroll, a notable stash of pilfered money, and the clothes on your back… you bid farewell to a village that is no longer home, trudging out to find somewhere new.

And what name do you hear again and again?

Megapolis.

A few kind strangers help you along the way, hikers and hermits pointing you to the illustrious city and sharing supplies with what they take as a hapless child.

It feels too much like how you were treated by the original villagers, a communal child to be cherished and loved. Still, you thank them and leave, still intent on seeing this city with your own two eyes.

Of course, you’ve spent all your life in a slow and quiet village, so nothing has prepared you for even a single neon billboard, much less an entire futuristic city of light and noise, electric sugar for the eyes and ears.

The photonic onslaught of blinding light sears your eyes, leaving you disoriented and dizzy. Your stomach turns in circles, empty and begging for food. A strange black post that reaches to the sky blares with sound, causing you to scatter into the back alleys.

Any note of wonder at the electric rainbows and thrumming music is dashed by now, leaving you to curl up and sob, paws clamped tightly over your ears. There’s no one to wipe your tears or ask you not to cry, no one to tell you to be strong and brave. All you can do is crawl into the nearest discarded cardboard box, feeling like a coward and an outcast as you weep yourself to sleep.

And you wake up in a cozy little store, wrapped up tight in a two-tone changpao. A scholar argues at the front counter, the porcine demon behind it looking at you cautiously.

“They’re starving, Pigsy! You can see their ribs poking out, can’t you?!”

“I can see that! I’m just not sure about feeding a demon, Tang…”

“You’re a demon! A pig demon!”

“No, that’s different! I am a perfectly respectable noodle-chef! Not some damn ‘pig demon’!”

Hic. Sniff.

The little pitiful noises draw their attention, looking upon your quivering form with split reactions.

The scholar is worried, clearly. There’s a kindness in his eyes that looks almost ancient, like it’s been passed from generation to generation. He nudges his… friend? Rival?

You can’t tell what their relationship is, really.

The pig isn’t unkind with his gaze or words- cautious, maybe a little nervous. But he grumbles to himself at the sight of tears, stomping off to his kitchen and turning on the stove.

“You better be right about this kid, Tang…”

The scholar- Tang, then, comes to you and ushers your shivering and scrawny form onto a chair, pulling the changpao tighter around you.

“It’s alright, dear,” his soft voice promises. “Just sit down and try to relax. We’ll get a nice bowl of noodles ready for you-“

“There’s no ‘we’ about this, Tang!” Calls Pigsy, his voice booming above the clatter of metal and the sizzle of oil.

Actually, they do remind you of something- the old couples in your village who had been together a little too long and thus grown sick of one another.

But those were always men and women, weren’t they?

Tentatively, you wipe your eyes and ask:

“Are you two married?”

———————————————————————-

“That’s how we met Y/N,” Tang cheerfully explains, patting your head as you fixate your eyes on the ground.

The child (or is he a toddler?) -MK, as your fathers are calling him, looks up at you, stumbling over to your slowly swishing tail. “Kitty,” he says, a new animal he’s learned from the children’s books that you gave him. Tang had gifted them to you not long after he had convinced Pigsy to take you in, and now you had given them to the new kid.

New. Younger. Cuter. No demonic features. No fangs or sharp pupils or sheathed claws.

Are you being replaced?

“Kitty,” the little one repeats, tugging on the cyan fur of your tail. “Meow.” The babbling of a toddler or at least a very young child, stilted and happy. “Kitty.”

“Very good,” Tang praises, clapping his hands to provide encouragement. “What other animals do you like, MK?”

You step out of the room just as the adorable little thing starts to make loud oinking noises.

The storage room is tiny, just big enough to fit a few people and a cleaning cart. It’s fortified in case of emergencies, serving as a tornado shelter. You’ve spent a few prospective storms in here, clinging to Pigsy and sniffling at the sound of blaring sirens. Thankfully, nothing bad had ever even come close to happening, and eventually you shifted to viewing it as almost a break from the world. Just you and your…

Guardian. Boss. Caretaker.

You want to add father to that list. But taking that first step is a terrifying ordeal, and would involve putting yourself through a potential rejection.

You don’t think you could recover from that.

Another person enters the storage room, one hand on your shoulder. It’s not rough or big enough to be Pigsy. Not warm enough, either.

“Y/N? Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine, Mister Tang.” Too fast. The words slur together, a falsity even by the first second you speak.

The freeloader sighs, lightly moving to tilt your chin up, meeting you eye-to-eye.

“You don’t come to hide in here when things are ‘fine’, dear. And you don’t slur your words like that, either. Why not tell me what’s wrong?”

“…do you think Pigsy likes MK better than me?”

“Wh-what? Y/N, why would you- dear, what’s going on?”

“…MK is a normal kid, isn’t he? He’s not some half-breed freak like me, and-“

“Y/N. I know you’ve been through a lot, but I don’t ever want to hear you say that again.”

A scholarly man with the build to match, Tang is far from strong. But he’s got just enough strength to pull you into his arms, letting you bury your head into the cloth covering his shoulder.

“Please, Y/N. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’m scared that he doesn’t see me as his child,” you gasp out, clinging to Tang. “I’m not just his sous chef, tell me I’m not just his sous chef! Dad, please-“

“Dad?”

You break down a little further, legs giving out as your body struggles with the fearful anticipation of potential disappointment. You wait there against his chest, weeping.

“I don’t mind if you see me as a father figure, dear. If anything, I’m actually flattered. You don’t need to be worried about that.”

“Not mad?” You manage to spit out, face thoroughly drenched in your own tears.

“Not mad,” he confirms, patting your head. “Now, let’s dry those tears and get you something to eat. I talked Pigsy into making grilled cheese dumplings with canned tomato soup.”

“Pigsy hates using canned food, though. He always says: “It’s a disgrace to my profession, using canned ingredients! There’s no alternative to fresh!” and then he’ll throw a spoon at whoever asked.”

“Well, MK loves them. And you know that Pigsy can’t say no to kids.”

And Tang was the only one who got spoons thrown at him, but he left that little bit out.

“Now, come on. Let’s get you to the bathroom to clean your face up. If Pigsy asks you can just say you got peppercorn dust in your eyes and needed a moment.”

The door opens, and you see the other half of this family, Pigsy and MK.

Family.

A real one, this time. Flaws and cons and stumbles thorned all along interwoven vines of love and adoration.

It wasn’t perfect.

But it was yours.

#Not Yandere #Yet #Lego Monkie Kid #LMK #MK #Pigsy #Tang #Noodlefam

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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 2 days

Text

Never Say Never

Chapter 19

Pairing: SingleDad!StevexReader

Summary: You are a 32 year old single mother, raising your seven year old son on your own. After being widowed at 30 and going out on awful dates with disgusting men for the past month, you have decided that you're giving up. You already had your great love. One person can't possibly get lucky enough to have two in their lifetime. But then your son starts playing baseball and the coach might just change your mind about that.

No posting schedule.

18+ only for eventual smut

Word Count: 7.4K

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The peak of summer had hit. Humid days meant lots of time at the local pool and lake. You and Steve were enjoying every moment of the boys' break from school with them. Picnics in the woods, cookouts with friends, mini-golf, and trips to the zoo filled up your weekends. Evening bike rides had become part of your routine, often ending with ice cream cones or slushies from Scoops Ahoy. Nights spent chasing fireflies and roasting marshmallows over a fire. You and Steve had taken to enjoying evenings on the deck after the boys were in bed, glasses of wine in your hands.

Mid-July found everyone once again sitting around a large table at Sage and Salt, minus your parents, as you were all there for an entirely different reason this time.

“To Mike!” everyone cheered loudly, glasses clinking in celebration all around the table.

Mike’s cheeks blazed bright red, his lips disappearing in embarrassment at everyone making a fuss over him. He’d told you last week that he finally got an offer for his book. The book he’d been working on for years was finally going to be published, he was getting a decent advance for a new author, had signed the contract just that afternoon, and everyone had insisted on going out to celebrate.

“Thank you but this all feels a little…premature, doesn’t it?” he asked. “I mean, yeah, I got an offer and signed a contract but we have no idea how the book is going to do. Getting published doesn’t mean anything. Lots of people get published and their book just sits on a shelf collecting dust. It could still horribly flop.”

“It will not,” insisted El, looping her arm through his, a proud smile on her face. “You are going to do incredible. Michael Wheeler is going to be a household name.”

“Yeah, man. You could be the next Stephen King,” Lucas said.

Dustin snorted, “Nobody’s the next Stephen King. Stephen King is the only Stephen King there is or ever will be. Besides, his books are in a totally different genre. You can’t even compare the two.”

Max rolled her eyes, “Jesus Christ, Dustin. Can you just say yeah and be happy for your friend?”

“I am happy for my friend but it would be more appropriate to compare him to Eddings or Brookes as his book would be of the fantasy genre and they are fantasy authors. Of course, those are big shoes to fill. If his books do even half as well as theirs I will be impressed.”

“Okay, we get it,” Steve sighed, shaking his head. “Anyway, this is a huge deal and I am sure your book is going to be great. Congratulations Mike.”

“Thank you.”

“Yes, we’re so proud of you,” Karen beamed, teary, reaching over the table to pinch his cheek as he grimaced and pulled back from his mom.

“It’s about time,” Tedd grumbled, taking a long drink of his beer. “Only been working on the damn thing for five years, letting his wife pick up the slack.” Karen elbowed him and he looked over at her, completely unaware of how rude he was being.

“Well,” Joyce added, “I think it’s great. I can’t wait to read it. I will be first in line to buy it the day it comes out.”

Mike smiled at her, “Thanks.” He glanced around the table at all of his friends. “And thanks to all of you. If you wouldn’t have pushed me so hard, I’d probably still be editing it over and over again, too scared to ever actually put it out into the world.”

Nancy ruffled his hair, “No problem, kid. We all knew you had it in you even if you didn’t.”

“It’s an amazing story,” Will told them. “Mike really did his research. It’s well planned out, the plot is gripping, the characters are amazing, and the world building is on point.”

Dustin’s mouth dropped open, his fork hitting the plate with a clang, his eyebrows furrowing, “Wait. You’ve read it?”

Will shrugged, “I mean, yeah. Mike wanted me to look it over to see what I thought. I actually helped him with some of the editing.”

“How come he got to read it?” demanded Dustin, offended. “You said we couldn’t read it until it was published and perfect?”

“It’s Will,” Mike stated as if that should be enough explanation. “I trust Will to be honest with me.”

“We’re honest,” Lucas scoffed.

Max’s eyes rolled into her head, “Boys, boys…calm down. You all will have a chance to read it in a few months when it comes out. No need to bicker over who got to read it first. You’re all very important to Mike.”

“Speaking of people who are about to be famous, you will never guess who I saw at the record store today,” Robin said, turning to Steve as the boys continued to banter back and forth, her hand reaching across the table to grab a roll from the basket sitting in front of Steve.

“Who?” he asked.

“Eddie Munson.”

Steve’s eyes went wide, “For real?”

Robin nodded with a grin like she’d just spilled the juiciest news ever but being that you had no idea who she was talking about, you just munched on your bread. It didn’t appear that June had any idea who it was either as her and you shared a look of confusion. Based on the look on Steve’s face, this was very big news indeed.

“But I thought he took off,” Steve continued. “After senior year…well, his third try at senior year, anyway. He said he was getting out of this hellhole and never looking back.”

“He did get out. Hasn’t lived here for years but he came back to help Wayne pack up the trailer. Apparently, his band just got a record deal with this big label in L.A. He said they’ve been playing in clubs for years and were just thinking of packing it in and giving it up when this big record executive came to one of their shows. Anyway, they gave him this huge advance and he bought a house out there and Wayne is going to move in with him.”

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Steve remarked, his hand on your shoulder, thumb stroking the bare skin along the strap of your tank top. You had learned over the last few months that he was a very physical guy. Some part of him was almost always touching you and you weren’t complaining about it. “Good for him. You know, the way this town treated him, I always hoped he’d do well and show them all.”

“Who’s Eddie Munson?” June questioned just as you were about to ask it yourself.

“He’s this guy we went to school with. He’s Steve’s age but he had some struggles in school so he wound up graduating with my class. Honestly, I think he might have had ADD but of course they didn’t really talk about that back then. They’ve only really started talking about it in the last couple years. If you couldn’t keep your ass in the chair and learn like everyone else then you were just out of luck. Most of the teachers wrote him off as a lost cause so he lived up to it. He was sent out of the classroom so many times for being obnoxious or causing a disruption. But he was crazy talented at the guitar and he always had a book he was reading. People called him dumb but I never thought he was. Annoying, absolutely, but not dumb. I think he just couldn’t get it the way they were teaching it and no one took the time to figure out how to teach him.”

Steve shrugged, “He had it hard here. The town treated him like trash because his dad was trash. His old man went to prison for selling hot car parts and his mom took off when he was just a toddler. He wound up living with his Uncle Wayne when he was in middle school. Wayne had a trailer in Forest Hills. So on top of being a felon’s kid, on top of having trouble at school, he also lived in a trailer. It was the trifecta of judgement for the people in this town. Everyone always said he was up to no good and he was going to turn out just like his father.”

“You know,” Robin mused, tearing off little bits of her roll and stuffing them in her mouth, “one time some of the cheerleaders were being mean to me. Not that it wasn’t something that happened all the time.” She snorted, rolling her eyes. “I was a band geek so the jocks and the popular kids loved to give us shit. Anyway, they took my trumpet and were playing keepaway. Eddie stepped right in and swiped it from them, depositing it in my hands with a flourish and a bow before strolling off down the hallway. I always kind of admired him. He never let those asshats get him down. He just was who he was and he didn’t care what anyone thought of him.”

“I don’t know,” countered Steve. “I think everyone cares what other people think of them. I just think some of us are better at pretending like we don’t. I think that obnoxious, boisterous exterior was a shield he put up to protect himself once he realized he was never going to be accepted by this place. It was easier to pretend it didn’t matter than to allow himself to be vulnerable to the mockery. Dustin sure loved the guy though.”

“Loved who?” asked Dustin, catching the sound of his name.

“Eddie Munson,” Steve answered.

“Hell yeah I did. All of us did.” He gestured down the table to the other boys. “He was a Dungeons and Dragons Master. He was the head of our D&D club, Hellfire, and we all joined our freshman year of high school. Me, Lucas, Mike, and Will were never what you’d call…popular. Lucas was a bit once he started playing basketball and helped them win the championship game. But Eddie, man, he just accepted us from the first day. He gave us a place to belong. We were happy to be one of his sheep.”

Steve snorted, “It was like a damn cult. He referred to them as his sheep like he was a shepherd leading the flock. All four boys loved him but Dustin freaking worshiped the ground he walked on.”

“He passed the reins onto Dustin when he finally graduated, appointing him Dungeon Master,” Robin said, pausing to thank the waitress as she brought their food. “But he was heartbroken when he found out Eddie was going to completely skip town.”

“He was my friend. Hell, he was more like a brother, and he was a hell of a Dungeon master. I tried to fill his shoes but nobody really could,” Dustin stated. “I’ve been out there to visit him a few times, actually. He’s in town right now. Did you know that?”

“That’s what I was just telling him, doofus,” Robin said. Dustin stuck his tongue out at her and she laughed.

“And were you close to Eddie?” you asked Steve.

“Me? No. Not so much. Eddie and I…we didn’t have a lot in common. He was a metalhead who loved to play nerd games. I was an athlete who would rather do just about anything than Dungeons and Dragons. But I never had an issue with him like some people. I always thought he was a pretty good guy. Henderson’s a good judge of character. If he says you’re solid, you probably are. My few interactions with him were alright.”

One of Robin’s eyebrows lifted, her elbow dropping to the table as she leaned forward, “Oh please! You hated that Dustin and him were so close.”

“Yeah he did! He didn’t like that I had another older male friend. He wanted to be the only one.”

Steve’s lips came together, making a noise of disbelief, “Okay, one, gross. And please. Like I cared who you spent your time with. I was just relieved you weren’t constantly following me around anymore.”

Robin turned to you, “Don’t let him fool you. He was so jealous that Dustin was spending more time with Eddie. He got used to being the only one that the kid hero worshipped.”

“Aww,” you teased, poking him in the side, giggling when he jumped. “You didn’t like having to share your little brother?”

His eyes narrowed, “Please. Like I cared who Dustin Henderson hung out with.”

“Oh, he did,” Dustin shot back. “He can act like he didn’t want me around but he’d be lying. Steve loves me.”

“Okay, anyway, onto another topic please,” Steve begged, popping a fry into his mouth as the other guys caught wind of the conversation and started asking Dustin about Eddie.

“Alright, how about we talk about how my amazing girlfriend had some brilliant ideas about how to get more business into the coffee shop?” June offered, her hand covering Robin’s. “I was telling her how weekday evenings can be pretty dead and I wasn’t sure if I should start closing early and she had some amazing suggestions.”

“Oh yeah?” You leaned forward, arms folded on top of the table. You smiled at how red Robin’s cheeks flared at June’s compliment. “What amazing suggestions did you have?”

Robin shook her head, fingers tearing little pieces of her napkin nervously. “It wasn’t really anything spectacular…”

“Yes it was!” June huffed, rolling her eyes. “She’s just being modest. She mentioned starting a book club night. We could have specials to lure them in. I mean, what goes better with a conversation about a good book than a cup of coffee and yummy sweets?”

“Oh, I think that’s a fantastic idea!” you exclaimed, bringing your straw to your lips for a sip of Coke. “We don’t really have anywhere in town that does book clubs. I think you’d get a lot of people interested. You could even make a special dessert to go with the book they’re reading.”

June’s eyes lit up. “I love that idea! Like I could make something with orange marmalade for Bridget Jones's Diary. We think that might be the first pick. I could even come up with some fun drinks to go with it. Maybe instead of coffee, have a fun tea beverage.”

“Yes! I’m totally in for the book club.”

“Oh, did I hear you say you’re starting a book club at the cafe?” asked Nancy, making her way down the table to join them. “I’m in.”

“Really?” Robin asked. “I mean, you really think it’s a good idea?”

“I told you babe,” June sighed, “it’s an amazing idea. We’re thinking about Tuesday nights. We’ll feature one book a month. I’m partnering with Terry, who owns the bookstore. He said he’ll make sure to order extra of whatever we pick so people can buy it directly from him instead of having to drive into the city to find it.” She shrugged. “I mean, it’s a win-win for both of us, you know?”

“I also mentioned a live music night and maybe a poetry night where people could come in and perform,” Robin added, posture straightening as her confidence built seeing that everyone thought it was a good idea. “That’s why I was in the record store today. I was talking to Tom about the local bands he knew of. We want to get the word out but we need to know where to find the people to give the word.”

“Yeah. But we’re thinking of waiting on the live music for a couple months. I want to make sure we have the book club thing down before I try adding in anything else. If that all goes well, then maybe in a couple more months we can phase in poetry night.”

“The Hideout would probably be the best place to find bands,” Jonathan offered as he headed down to join them as well, his arm slipping around Nancy’s waist. “I mean, that’s where Corroded Coffin always played.”

Robin nodded, “I know but we want to host a variety of music. I think The Hideout is pretty heavy stuff. Not that we don’t want that too but it would be nice to do a variety to get more people in.”

Steve snorted, “Yeah. Not everyone wants to listen to a bunch of screaming. Makes my ears want to bleed.”

“You know, Matt works with a guy who’s in a band. They play more acoustic stuff. I could talk to him and see if his friend would want to play at your shop,” you told them.

“That would be great. Like I said, it wouldn't be for a couple months. Probably not until the end of summer but I wouldn’t mind lining up some talent so we have a schedule and are ready to go when it’s time. Plus that would give us some time to figure out logistics.”

“If you’re looking for something Monday through Friday, you could always eventually add a local artisan night too. People who make things could have small displays in your shop and in front of it. From my experience, people love that kind of stuff,” Nancy said. “There’s just something so gratifying about finding that unique something special that you can’t find anywhere else because it’s not mass marketed. You know?”

“That’s not a bad idea, either,” June agreed. “And I love getting to support artists and small business owners. Especially given that I am one.”

“Oh, I wanted to ask, would it be okay if Eli stayed over tonight?” asked Nancy, turning to you. “Jere has been bugging me all day since we were all going to be here together. We rented Space Jam and he refuses to watch it without Eli.”

Steve glanced over at you, eyebrows wiggling suggestively at the thought of the two of you having a night alone. You weren’t used to having Eli gone as much as he was these days. He usually wound up hanging out with one of the gang or having a sleepover at least once a week but you’d learned to appreciate any time you could have alone with Steve.

“Yeah. Absolutely. I’m sure he’d love that.” A soft smile lifted the corners of your mouth as you glanced down the table, watching as the boys took turns shooting straw wrappers at Dustin and Lucas, a skill that Hopper was apparently teaching them. The man was like an over-sized child sometimes.

“Thanks. We’ll bring them both back around lunchtime tomorrow if that’s good for you,” Jonathan said, him and Nancy sharing a smile. “Give you some morning time too, you know, if you need a little extra.”

A couple hours later found you strolling next to June as Steve and Robin argued ahead of you. Everyone had headed home and the four of you decided to walk off some of your food first. You were only able to catch a word here or there of Steve and Robin’s conversation and had no idea what they were arguing about. But considering it sounded playful, you weren't worried. If there was such a thing as platonic soulmates, those two were it. They bickered like siblings but their love for each other knew no bounds. That was obvious to anyone who witnessed their interactions for even a few minutes.

“So, it seems pretty serious with you and Robin,” you observed, hooking your arm through June’s as you walked along the main street.

A smile like a crescent moon curved the raven-haired beauty’s lips, “It is, I think. I’ve been crushing on her for months. I didn’t think she’d ever get the nerve to say anything. I mean, honestly, I wasn’t even sure if she liked me for a while. The girl never made eye contact with me. I knew she was into girls but I just figured maybe I wasn’t her type and she didn't want me to get the wrong impression or something.”

“Oh, she liked you,” you laughed, pausing to look in the window of the general store. Eli had been begging you for the Batcave playset that had come out a couple weeks ago. With his birthday coming up next month, you were going to need to stop in and get it. If you waited too long, it might not be there and you’d never hear the end of it. “She liked you a lot. I just think she was scared to say anything.”

“Obviously. But she’s…I mean, she’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met. She’s so kind and thoughtful. I love the way she rambles when she’s nervous. It’s just the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. And those little freckles…I just want to kiss each one.” She giggled. “I often do, actually. It’s only been a few weeks but somehow I just know. I know this is going to be something amazing. I know it’s going to last, you know?”

You curved your lower lip in, nodding as your eyes instantly moved to Steve, “I do know.”

“You sure seem to. You and Steve are the freaking cutest. Anyone watching you two can see it’s something special.”

It was special. It was everything. It was more than you could have ever imagined you’d get in life. After losing it all, you’d never expected to find something this magical again, someone this amazing. You knew exactly what June meant because you just knew. You knew that Steve was it for her. You knew six months from now, six years from now, sixty years from now, the universe willing, that he would still be by your side and you would still be just as deliriously happy.

Robin shoved Steve, his hand coming to her face and shoving her back, both of them laughing. You watched the exchange with amusement. You already loved both of them so much. They had seamlessly been sewn into the fabric that was your life. What girl not only got to have the perfect guy but also the amazing people who came along with him? Sometimes it felt like too much, like you couldn’t possibly deserve this much.

“Are you two talking about us back there?” Robin questioned, walking backwards ahead of them.

“Only good things,” June promised.

“My girl's not complaining about how I don’t hang up my towel after a shower?” Steve asked, spinning around to face them. “Or how I leave little hairs in her sink when I shave? Or how she trips over my shoes because I don’t put them by the door where they belong?”

“I can accept all of those things if you can accept how I hog all the blankets at night,” you replied. “Or how I take showers so hot you feel like your skin is melting off. Or how I always take the last of the coffee and don’t make another pot.”

Steve stopped walking, waiting until you were right in front of him. His arms wrapped around you, hand locking at the small of your back, a gentle kiss pressed against your lips. Those lips, so damn soft. The man always had a ChapStick in his pocket. You knew because you’d run it through the washing machine more than once.

“I can accept every single one of those as long as it means I get to have you,” he whispered, his lips pressing softly against your nose.

“Did we just watch them exchange vows?” teased June. “Because those sure sounded like vows.”

“Seriously, when are you two just going to bite the bullet and move in together?” asked Robin.

Steve’s eyes went wide, zeroing in on you, examining you and you knew why. He was waiting. Waiting for you to sink into the dark abyss of an attack the way you had the last time moving in together had been brought up. You hated the way his body tensed, readying himself to try to pull you out of it. You hated that he assumed you would fall apart at the mention of the future with him.

Because you weren't. You weren't panicking. The two of you spent more nights together than not these days. You had toothbrushes at each other’s places. You had a drawer with a spare change of clothes for those last minute decisions to stay over. He had a thermos in your cupboard for his coffee for work when he woke up at your place.

“Robin, we’ve only been dating for a few months,” Steve urged, darting a warning glance at his friend. “We’re taking things slow.”

Robin guffawed, her head thrown back with loud laughter, “Moving slowly? You sleep at each other’s houses every single night.”

“Not every night,” Steve argued.

“Practically,” she stated. “You already act like a married couple. Aly packs your lunches for work for crying out loud.”

You shrugged, “I mean, I’m already packing Eli’s and mine so I just…”

“I don’t care that you pack his lunch. But if you’re packing lunches, taking turns picking up the kids from school, and sleeping next to each other every single night, what’s the difference if you just go from two houses to one?”

“She’s not wrong,” June agreed. “You’re basically living together in two different spaces. Just sell one. It’s definitely more economically logical. You’d only have one house payment.”

“And if you sell one, you’d have a decent chunk of change. You could use it for…oh, I don’t know…a wedding?” Robin’s eyebrows wiggled tauntingly.

“We haven’t…I mean…we’ve talked but not…” you stammered.

Steve’s hands found yours in an attempt to ground you. Oddly, you didn’t need it. This talk about weddings and living together, talk that used to make your heart run a marathon, that used to suck the air right out of your lungs, wasn’t doing anything. You just didn’t know how to respond. After the hospital incident, you hadn’t really discussed it anymore.

It wasn’t like it wasn’t there, a thought that kept jabbing at your brain every now and then. But you’d been happily just going along the way you were. If he had Jere, you would stay at his place so Jere could have his things. If he didn’t, they stayed at your place. Miles had even gotten comfortable at both houses. The dog was at home at your place, leaving dark hairs everywhere that you could never seem to fully vacuum away. Somehow you always went to work covered in him but you didn’t mind.

But did Steve want to take that step? He’d told you that he hadn’t meant it when he said he liked his space. But the man had been living on his own for a while. He didn’t have to be attached to a child seven days a week. If you moved in together, he would have Eli around all the time. Maybe he wanted to be able to head back to his own place, his sanctuary of peace and solitude.

“Okay Robin. Your suggestions and opinions are duly noted,” Steve said, putting an end to the discussion. “Thanks for the input.”

Robin shrugged, grinning, “Just wanted to get my two cents out there. Voice the idea into the world. Because we both know you two will never do it if left to your own devices.”

____________________________________________________________

Steve stroked your hair as you lay with your head on his chest, the two of you relaxed back on a blanket. A cool breeze tickled his skin, crickets creating a soundtrack for your evening as you enjoyed a moment of quiet together in his backyard. Stars twinkled like diamonds in the night sky, the half moon providing what little bit of light you had.

He felt completely at ease with you right here where you belonged, cocooned in his arms, your hearts beating rhythmically against one another, sharing each other’s warmth to ward off the chill of the early summer evening.

He’d been expecting you to go into a full blown anxiety attack earlier when Robin started talking about moving in together. He’d expected another call to 911 when you'd mentioned marriage. But he’d never been so glad to be wrong. You had taken it in stride. You'd stammered a bit, looked a little nervous, but you hadn’t lost control. It was a small step in the right direction.

Steve hadn’t broached the subject of living together since that night when he almost ruined everything. You were spending most nights and mornings together as it was. It wasn’t enough. He didn’t think it would ever be enough but you seemed to be okay with it and so it was what he would make himself okay with for now. He’d made a silent vow not to push you anymore and he’d stuck to it, waiting for you to let him know when you were ready for the next step.

Had he wondered if you never would be? Of course he had. With your past, your struggles with anxiety, it concerned him that this could be what your relationship looked like forever. You frozen in place, terrified to move even an inch in a forward direction. Him never saying anything for fear of pushing you away. The two of you at a standstill, your relationship never evolving, never changing past two people who dated and stayed over at each other’s places.

Steve had thought you'd fallen asleep until you said softly, “Maybe Robin has a point.”

“Hmm?” he questioned, pulling himself from his thoughts.

You lifted your head, placing both hands over his heart before resting your chin on the backs of them. You took his breath away. Every time you looked at him it was like he had forgotten just how beautiful you were and he was stunned all over again. Every damn time. His fingers slid a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I said maybe Robin has a point,” you repeated, turning your face into his touch, your lips pressing a kiss to the center of his palm.

Steve snorted, “Robin’s never right about anything.” At the look you gave him, he relented. “Okay. Fine. Yeah, she has some great ideas about June’s cafe. I think those things will really help bring in the business. We’ve yet to see but maybe she does have a point.”

“Steve, that’s not what I’m talking about.”

His heart stuttered in his chest. You couldn’t be saying what he thought you were saying, right? No. That was just him getting his hopes up far too high. It had only been a little over a month since that night in the hospital. There was no way you were going from barely able to breathe at the idea to suddenly saying you should move in together.

He swallowed, trying to rein in the desire that was raging in him for you to open your mouth and say those words. Because if you didn’t, the disappointment would come crashing down on him like an avalanche, his heart crushed under the weight of hundreds of tons of rock and rejection.

“So, what are you talking about?” he asked, attempting to keep the hope he was feeling out of his voice.

Your head tilted, your mouth curving into a gentle smile, “I mean, we are practically living together as it is. We’re just doing it in two different spaces. It does seem kind of silly, doesn’t it?”

Steve swallowed hard, nodding, barely trusting himself to reply with more than that. He wanted to grab onto you, pull you into him, kiss you breathless, and beg you to move in together. To choose a place. He didn’t care which. If you wanted to keep your place, that was fine with him. He just wanted you to be in his life, all of it, every day for forever.

“I understand if you’re not ready. I know you’ve probably gotten used to having your own space. I’m sure it’s nice to come home to a quiet house on the days when Jeremiah is with Nancy and Jonathan. So, I’m not pressuring you or anything. I’m just saying maybe it’s something to think about?”

He nodded. Emotion was clogging his throat. He knew he needed to say something. He needed to respond to you but he couldn’t seem to get sound past the lump in his esophagus.

You blinked quickly, burying your head against his chest again as you muttered softly, “Anyway, just a thought. No big deal. I wasn’t saying we have to do it now.”

Jesus Christ, he chastised himself. Open your mouth. Say something. His arms wound around you tighter. Those beautiful eyes, eyes he hoped he was lucky enough to look into for the rest of his life, opened wide. He traced the back of his hand over the soft skin of your cheek.

“Move in with me,” he urged. “Or I’ll move in with you. I don’t care. But let’s move in together.”

Those perfectly pink lips arced up on both sides, “Really?”

“Yes, really. Invade all of my space. I told you, I don’t want space. I don’t want quiet. I don’t want alone. I just want you. You and Eli and Jeremiah. I want you to fill up all the space until there’s none left.”

“Are you sure? You’re not just saying that?”

“Honey, I’ve never been more sure of anything than I am of you,” he said. “I know I want you forever. I know you’re it for me. I don’t need to wait and see. I don’t need time to figure anything out. I’ve known from the moment I saw your face that you were going to be something special in my life. And you are. I want you and everything that comes with you.” He cradled your face in his palms. “I want this face to be the first thing and the last thing I see every day.”

Tears sparkled in your eyes under the light of the moon. “Me too. Maybe it’s quick but I don’t care. I thought I needed to move slowly. I thought I would need time to know if this was right but I don’t. I feel it, so deeply in my bones. You’re right. This is right. I was worried about Eli but I don’t have to be because I am certain. I love you and so does he. It won’t matter if we decide today or six months from now. I will be completely certain it’s you.”

“So, your place or mine?” he asked.

“I…” You paused, inhaling sharply.

“It’s okay if you want to keep your house, honey. My house is just a house. Your house holds a lot of memories for you. I know that. I truly don’t care where I live as long as you and the boys are there.”

“No. I mean…I don’t think I want to keep the house. That house is full of memories but they’re memories from a different life. I want to start fresh. I want to build new memories with you. I don’t need the house to remember. Those memories will always be with me but I’m tired of living with a ghost and that’s what it feels like there. I mean, I should probably talk to Eli about it and see how he feels. But what would you think about buying a new house? Something we choose together? Something where we can create our own history and stories?”

“I think that sounds perfect.”

And it did. A whole new space where you could choose things together. You could slowly make it your own. A house that you would turn into a home by filling it with love and a shared history. A place where you could raise your boys together and then a space for just the two of you when the boys were grown and out creating their own futures. Four walls that would contain all the memories of your years, the happy and the sad, that you would look back on years down the road.

“I love you,” you whispered, beaming from ear to ear.

“I love you, too. God, I love you so much.”

You pushed yourself up, resting both knees on either side of his hips, straddling him under the stars in his backyard. Miles lifted his head from where he lay observing on the deck and Steve raised his hand, his command for stay. The dog released a heavy sigh but dropped his big head back down on his paws.

“You are everything I never thought I could have.” Whispered words as your mouth, hot and sweet, covered his, your tongue teasing, flicking and brushing over his lips, teeth, and tongue. “You are a damn dream, Steve Harrington and I hope I never wake up.”

Your words, transmitted on your breath from your mouth to his, traveled throughout, spreading, inhabiting every single space. His hands ran over your body, grabbing and squeezing, as he made a vow to himself to keep you feeling like that. To ensure you never woke up, never looked around and doubted your choice right here on this blanket, never was disappointed to find the dream wasn’t your reality.

You ground your hips over him and hissed at the feel of rock hard denim pressing over your clit. One hand slid up your shirt, taking your breast in his palm, while the other slid underneath your skirt, grabbing a handful of your ass. You rocked harder against him, whimpering when he sucked your bottom lip into his mouth between kisses.

Steve sunk into your mouth, taking the kiss even deeper, his tongue exploring, gliding and dancing over yours. His hand on your ass grabbed onto the lacy fabric covering your hip, his fingers wrapping around it, wanting to tear it off of you and bury himself to the hilt right now.

“Should we…?” you tried but gasped when he pinched your nipple, rolling the pert little bud between his thumb and forefinger. “Should we go inside?”

“No, honey…can’t wait…wanna fuck you right here…under the stars…” he mumbled against your skin, sucking and nibbling a path up your neck to your chin. “Wanna have you under me…take you in the moonlight…”

A squeak escaped you when his arms came around your waist, flipping you to your back beneath him. His fists came down on either side of your head, taking in the sight of your wide eyes, parted lips, flushed skin.

“Fuck, you’re so damn beautiful,” he growled, his lips crashing down over yours again as your fingers dove into his hair, your legs locking around his waist as your heat sought out the friction of him again.

“But neighbors,” you protested weakly when his fingers wrapped around the edge of your panties, yanking them down and away, tossing them carelessly somewhere in the yard. “What if someone sees?”

“No one’s gonna see,” he assured you, his lips traveling down your body, lifting your shirt to press open mouthed kisses over the soft skin of your stomach. “Maybe Miles, but he won’t tell anybody. He’s good at keeping secrets.”

You giggled at that, the sound filling his ears, delighting his senses. It was one of his favorite sounds in the world, maybe his most favorite. It was a sound he wanted to cause you to make every single day but it’s not the sound he wanted right now.

Sliding down the blanket, he slipped his head under your skirt, taking your pussy in his mouth, and that’s when he got the sound he wanted. You choked out his name when he sucked on your clit like a throat lozenge. You writhed, whimpered, when he licked you from top to bottom, swirling his tongue over you teasingly.

The taste of you made him feel drunk, his head fuzzy in that delicious way when the world just goes soft. He wrapped his arms around each of your thighs, holding you in place, as he feasted on you. Your back arched, fingers tangling in his hair, as he flicked his tongue over your clit.

“Jesus, Steve,” you groaned, your hips rocking against his face, seeking sweet release.

Fuck, he would never get enough of you. Your taste. Your scent. Your sounds. The way you felt. He could spend the rest of his life buried between your thighs happily and it still wouldn’t be enough.

You were panting softly above him, your chest rising and falling rapidly. Your thighs trembled around his head and he knew you were close to coming undone. Steve wrapped his mouth around your clit and your entire body froze as you cried out his name loudly. He gently lapped at your sweet center, not stopping until he felt you relax beneath him.

“Steve…” Your voice was raspy with lust, your fingers threading through his hair, leading him up your body. He stared down at you, the way your skin glistened under the faint light of the moon, your eyes heavy, your lips curled in a satisfied smile. “I think the neighbors might have heard me.”

He grinned, pressing his forehead to yours, “Let them. Then they all know you’re mine.”

“I am, you know? Yours. Just yours,” you whispered, bringing his mouth to yours again, kissing him deeply.

Those words did something to him, scratching an itch in his brain he hadn’t even known was there before this woman came into his life. Steve worked at his belt, undoing his jeans and kicking them down his legs, needing to be inside of you.

Nestling himself between your legs, he took his cock in his hand, sliding the tip over your clit and through your folds, teasing. You moaned, low and deep, your eyes fluttering as he slipped just the tip in before bringing it back out to run through your slick tauntingly. Your feet slid over his calves, your hands slipping under his shirt, nails running over the skin of his back.

“Steve…stop teasing…” you pleaded.

“Lift up your shirt for me, honey,” Steve told her. “I want to see all of you while I fuck you.”

You obeyed, tugging your shirt up and over your head, leaving you lying beneath him in nothing but your little black skirt and a scrap of lacy pink fabric that was so sheer he could see your nipples, dark pink and hard. He couldn’t take it anymore, his hand grabbing onto your hip as he thrust inside of you, burying himself in your heat.

“Oh fuck, yes…Steve…” you groaned, your nails digging into his flesh.

Jesus, you felt so damn good. He thrust again, sinking even deeper into you if that was possible, both of you moaning. Your legs locked around him, your bodies melding together until he could barely pull out. His hips rocked into you, small movements that kept him sheathed the whole time, his cock dragging over your walls.

“I love you…Jesus Christ, honey…I love you…so fucking good…you feel so fucking good,” he grunted, rutting against you, chasing his own high as he felt you already starting to tremble beneath him again.

“Love…you…” you panted, fingers gripping his shoulders, your mouth catching his for a moment before you broke off, head dropping back. “Don’t stop…please don’t stop…oh god…Steve…right there…I’m gonna…”

His head fell back, riding it out as your pussy clenched down around him, clinging to him as you rode out the wave. He was almost hyperventilating as he thrust into you hard, fingertips digging into the flesh of your hips, his eyes squeezing shut as his own orgasm crashed down over him with force, spilling into you.

His cock throbbed within you as your pussy pulsed around him. He dropped down, his elbows on either side of your head, his hands cupping your cheeks. You looked like a fucking vision glowing and flushed in the subtle light of the moon above them. Your hand came to his cheek, smiling up at him, looking as satisfied as he does after he’s power washed every damn thing outside of his house.

“You’re mine, huh? Just mine?” he teased with a smirk, thumb coasting over the curve of your cheekbone.

You turned into his touch, pulling the tip of his thumb between your lips, “For as long as you want me to be.”

“Careful what you wish for, honey because that’s a long time. I’m thinking forever.”

“Works for me,” you beamed, grabbing a fistful of his shirt, pulling his lips down to yours.

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Thanks so much for taking the time to read my little story! 😊 And replies and reblogs are always appreciated if you enjoy it. I love to hear what you think! ❤️❤️❤️ Only one more chapter to go and then this story will come to an end.

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designernishiki · 9 months

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bro kiryu is a terrible parent. he may be happiest when he's surrounded by the kids at the orphanage but what kind of genuine happiness has he given THEM? the dude provides them no stability and haruka is the one that actually looked after them the whole time while he runs off to fix up the tojo again and again. it's better that he stays away from them. even kiryu finally sees that. it's why he chose to do what he did at the end of 6. i hope he continues to leave them the hell alone.

park mirei is that you????

I really don’t think it’s that simple. I don’t think he’s a bad parent and I don’t think he’s a perfectly good one either. I think some of the things that make him a “bad” parent are actually his fault, while other things haven’t been, and are instead more of an inevitable product of the shady world him and haruka both were born into.

TLDR: it’s literally factually incorrect to say he didn’t/barely raised his kids and instead just left haruka to do it (most of 2007-2011 he was fully present and solely devoted to raising them, no other job, no other intentions), and he absolutely has done a lot for them and their happiness. however, he’s made some bad choices as well and has his fair share of flaws as a parent. most importantly, his past does tend to find him in one way or another regardless of what he does, which is not something that’s easy to solve. taking himself out of the picture hurts the kids tremendously, while staying in the picture potentially endangers/hinders the kids. I can’t say what the “right” thing to do would be, because it’s not black and white. all I can say for sure is that he did have an important and positive impact on their childhoods, and they care about him just as much as he cares about them.

(more in depth version below)

the idea that he hasn’t done anything for his kids and didn’t actually raise them is something I wholeheartedly disagree with and is just factually untrue. before he starts getting threatened and manipulated by various groups/people to get him to leave, for several years (most of 2007-2011) he was a caring parent who devoted all of his time and effort to raising those kids and it shows from how much they love and miss him when he’s gone, and in the personal problems he helps each of them with whenever he can in y3. On top of love in general, he provides them with stability, a sense of family and home, and helps some of the more traumatized kids regain the ability to trust and overcome survivor’s guilt. he’s responsible for the years of those kids’ lives they would almost undoubtedly all consider the best of their childhoods. “what kind of happiness has he given them?” a whole damn lot, frankly.

kiryu never goes back to deal with shit in the tojo clan fully voluntarily. it’s basically always because something is threatening the orphanage and the kids’ wellbeing, or because there are people he cares about in the clan, which makes for a lot of potential issues but– considering he’s not heartless and can’t just turn off the bonds he has with certain people– can’t be avoided, considering the closest people he had to family were yakuza/yakuza-adjacent, and cutting all of them (that he has left) off completely isn’t as easy as you make it seem. when daigo– who’s like a son to him in his own right– gets shot and very nearly dies in y3, no shit he’s gonna be concerned. and he’s deeply conflicted at first on what to do (or not do) about it. it’s really really really not as black and white as him being a good person or a bad person for being dragged back into clan ordeals– much of the time it’s not his fault at all. by all accounts he feels guilty and horrible for his past endangering the kids, and it’s a HUGE recurring theme/conflict that contributes heavily to his distancing in y5, and further distancing in y6.

HOWEVER. he has absolutely made some iffy choices and I’d never say he’s a perfect parent. for one, I definitely think haruka was allowed to be more parentified than she should’ve been– he needed the extra help, considering one adult raising that many kids isn’t easy, but he should’ve gotten that help via employing another adult (I was hoping mikiyo from y3 would do this, but he doesn’t get mentioned after y3 for whatever reason sadly), not relying on her for more responsibility than a kid should have.

moreover, despite her parentification, there’s several times where he makes huge decisions for haruka (and the kids in general to some extent) without her input / against her wishes, and recklessly puts himself in grave danger despite having kids who rely on him to take into consideration. it absolutely baffled me at the beginning of y6 to see that there wasn’t any real adult put in kiryu’s place while he was in prison, and that it’d just been the older kids seemingly who acted as caretakers for the household. that was a horrible oversight and I think he should’ve known better– yeah, he didn’t have much time to find someone to fill the role, but he was in contact with haruka and he could’ve had her get help from one of kiryu’s friends to find someone. there were definitely options and I’m not gonna make any excuses there. he’s not infallible, no doubt.

Shit gets really complicated when it comes to him leaving the way he does a number of times. He does it in the hopes that it protects the kids from his past that keeps springing up and endangering their futures, but the issue with this is that BECAUSE he did, in fact, lovingly raise these kids for the most fundamental years of their lives and become their father figure, ripping himself out of their lives can’t be good for them– especially considering they’re orphans who have already had parents ripped from their lives and undoubtedly have abandonment issues as it is. this is terribly complicated and doesn’t have a black or white answer at all– leaving them has the huge emotional repercussions I just mentioned, and staying potentially endangers them and their futures. there is no easy way to slice it, and even the best parent on earth would be torn if put in that scenario.

personally I can’t help but hope he gets to reunite with his family, as I know they’d want that as much as he would; but it’s for the best at this point that they don’t have to fully rely on him and him alone. kiryu needs other adults to lean on in his life, and so do the kids. I think the kids are capable of this– of building new bonds and broader support systems– but kiryu has got a ways to go.

#but damn bro I’ve never heard anyone be this aggressive in their hatred for kiryu as a parent bchfhdbdbdb…..#like I’ve heard people saying he’s a bad parent and making decent points about it but. this sounds like some kinda personal beef ngl #kiryu is not real and he can not hurt you. it’s okay #interesting to contrast kiryu’s predicament with majima’s whole reason for avoiding a ‘normal’ family #family life or what have you. he’s made it clear that once you’re involved in the yakuza you’re ‘stained black for life’ and thus he’d made #it a point to avoid dragging anyone else down with him even if it means sacrificing his own happiness or potential shot at a more fulfilling #life. which is interesting because like. I don’t think either of them have made a /better/ choice than the other #kiryu tried and (arguably) failed- where as majima chose not to try at all in the hopes that it’d save people who’d potentially bond with #him some grief and suffering. I don’t think it’s wrong that kiryu tried to live a fulfilling life and give kids the parental backbone #he didn’t really have when he himself was an orphaned kid. it’s just the difference between an initially optimistic outlook and a nihilistic #(on a personal level) outlook.#god what I wouldn’t give to get a heart to heart beteeen those two on this topic man…………#anyway. yeah. I spent way too much time answering this lmao #kiryu #rambling #asks #long post

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