#a map of absence

[soracities]

Samih al-Qassim, "The End of a Discussion with a Prison Guard" (trans. A.Z. Foreman, ID included), from A Map of Absence

[kaiasky]

I really truly hate to ask but in your bio when it says map enjoyer the map part is not an acronym. is it??? or u mean the paper maps

ah. a normal map!

source. i think this is very pretty. this is a normal map. The idea is like. Suppose we want to have a 3d model of an old desk like this:

If we just throw that picture on a texture and hit render, we get something like this:

Which doesn't look particularly realistic! Notice how the light is staying in one place and all the highlights on the places where the pencil has dug into the wood don't move to catch the light. Our eyes automatically pick up a lot of detail about the texture of surfaces, and this doesn't look real.

in particular, the angle of the surface determines how much light is reflected at the camera. So we need a way to store the angle of every point on our surface! But it turns out we can use a neat coincidence; we see 3 primary colors and live in 3-dimensional space! To store the orientation of a surface, you can use the normal vector--the arrow perpendicular to the surface. (I like to imagine the object being covered in little tiny spikes sticking straight out at a right angle. We need a way to store those spikes.) Since we have 3 colors and 3 dimensions, we can encode the angle of the normal vector spikes as a color, where the red channel means the left-right angle, the green channel means the up-down angle, and the blue channel means the vertical angle sticking out at the viewer. So to go back to the old image:

The cyan bits to the left (some green, some blue, no red) are spikes pointing to the left. The red/pink bits to the right are spikes pointing to the right. The neutral blue-grey color in the middle is a spike sticking straight up.

There's lots of ways to make a normal map. You can paint them yourself, you can model a really complicated geometry and then calculate a normal map to apply to a much simpler geometry, or you can create it as the "derivative" of a heightmap (a greyscale image where white is high bumps and black is dips). There's even cool neural network things that try to infer the height/normal map from a picture or video!

Here's that normal map I stole applied to a totally flat grey square, with the light moving. Look how convincing the illusion of depth is!

Here's two grey cubes smashing into one another except one has a normal map applied.

So I think this is a really cool technique! But I also think that normal maps, the images themselves, are stunningly beautiful. That's why the background of my avatar is a normal map!

Shoutout to gif.ski for making those gifs. I'm not really sure why its quality is 10x what i get from imagemagick or ffmpeg but it sure as hell is.

[kiwibirdlafayette]

on your Aitheaca au, when I was writing I was trying to imply that what was stolen was Capsize, but in my want to be vague I know I didn’t do a good job. Like my train of thought was that Ianite was, to a lesser extent, sensing Capsize in a similar vein to how she was sensing ‘Dianite’ when it was actually Tom, if that makes sense. I interpreted this version of Ianite as a goddess who despises not knowing, seeing it as a weakness in herself, so when she senses something that is “hers” but unrecognizable to her, she lies to Flash.

also! thinking about crew dynamics is interesting, cause depending on how you split them up you are almost always stuck with an instigator and an arbiter. The way you’ve split them up rn, Sonja and Tom are instigators (more Tom leaning than anything) and Spark’s the arbiter. Martha’s the arbiter while the other two are instigators. But this fluctuates depending on who’s in the room. Essentially, there’s always going to be a high chance for issues caused inside the group and out.

OH!!! Listen listen liSTENNNN do not say you didnt do didnt do a good job you did an excellent job, there aint nothin wrong with the choice to be vague with it I just dont catch onto things very well xD I really love that idea a ton, I totes agree that she would be able to pick up on Capsize's Ianitian quintessence (the ownership thing I feel could have ties to Capsize's connection to Ianite in the S1 world leaning on the side of being a messenger rather than the champion kind of cues that Jordan would carry if that makes any sense) and also what ya had mentioned on AO3 too, about Jordan's quintessence having ticks of World Historians in him as well that would obscure things a little makes a ton of sense as well and bangs :D

and yeah!!! Aitheaca Ianite is absolutely someone who is hellbent on being an 'all-knowing' for the sake of ultimate balance, where her logic is that if she can control everything, that's how she can guarantee that chaos or order doesnt have an opportunity to rise up- and is the principle on which her reign was founded on. I can imagine this brings her into conflict with the notion of the Watchers (who inherently possess this ability, while she has to rely on her intuitive judgement and using visual conduits/spies, like taking control of Flash) which is why I could maybe imagine she'd want to keep these kinds of things from Flash. She's very much aware of Merina's presence around her champion, and holds resentment that she can't have Merina as her spy and that under the right theoretical circumstance, could break Flash free of her manipulation at any given moment due to her having a higher form of omnipotence (all this being said, Merina is a lower level watcher and isn't at the level of possessing godly foresight that Ianite seems to think she has) I very much want it to feel like a psychological game that Ianite plays with her subordinates that she would only want Flash to believe and be aware of certain things while lying about things like weakness or potential flaw

And crew dynamics!! yessahh the instigator-arbiter combo was absolutely intentional >:] For the sake of chaos (dianitee moment) but also while it would be so easy to just pair them off in travelling groups as syndisparklez/foxxsize or embersduo/zombiecaptains it makes for more interesting writing for them to be split up with the person they had the rockiest history with + a Ruxomarian who does not want to be stuck there (in some random reality across the multiverse) to begin with. In a way the thought process is the "get along or fucking die" premise especially when they start encountering like Flash but like ya said it really is a lot of infighting xD in the Martha led group the dynamic centers around 3 Ianitees all holding some kind of reasonable resentment towards one another (though they can bond over seein their goddess/mom in such a different light and how thats affecting them; like Martha especially not having seen much of Ia in Ruxomar and while she spent time with S1 Ia, I can imagine how jarring it is to run into a universe where your mom is a corrupt deity) And then the Spark led group is just a mess, because Tom and Sonja are both massive instigators in their own way and while they can get into some absolutely unhinged shenanigans as a duo a rift was absolutely torn between them post-S2/Isles era that they become prone to not be willing to go back on their opinions of something and hear the other out. Spark hasnt spent a lot of time with either of them so its hard to take on anything but a methodology of compromise which neither of them want to really entertain- When the four are together the banter can feel a little friendlier because deep down they do all care for one another, they just have a hard time expressing it

In terms of the other instigator duos with Spark n Martha (speaking of, I have a scene with them two and Sonja, which has been funky to ponder on when they encounter Mianite for the first time) its kinda just chaos. Chaos like when you put two besties together xD

[mothergoosinganon]

is mg coming back or is mg dead

—he could come back dead. he could come back alive. depends on if or when he is freed. she has been in the box for three and a half weeks. she went into the box with one remaining protein bar in her pocket. however. it seems as though nobody he has known even realized he is gone. so he very well could starve to death in the empty pocket dimension of the box.—

[chaotic-neutral-knitter]

I think one of the kindest things you can do for people with various mental health struggles is just... let people back into your life after they've been absent for a while.

Making friends as an adult is so fucking hard already and isolating yourself from other people is a very common symptom of depression, anxiety, burnout, ocd, trauma, grief, etc. Which means that someone will do the hard work of recovery/healing and resurface back into a world where their previous friends have written them off because they stopped showing up.

So if you know someone where you're like "yeah we could have been better friends but they fell off the map a bit" and that person suddenly reaches out, or starts showing up to events even though you kind of forgot they were still in the group chat... well they may have been Going Through It and you don't actually have to punish them for their absence you can just be glad that they're back.

[jimintomystery]

Technically, the multiverse contains many Dairy Queens, so Loki is more like a regional manager.

I made this a while ago so I forgot where I got the inspiration, but I’m OBSESSED with the idea that Loki can manage the whole multiverse but could not run a Dairy Queen

[soracities]

Salem Jubran, "Refugee" (trans. Lena Jayyusi and Naomi Shihab Nye), from A Map of Absence: An Anthology of Palestinian Writing on the Nakba [ID'd]

[hoshigray]

𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐌𝐞 𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫! | t. fushiguro + k. nanami

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Taking your daughter to a sleepover with her best buds is easy peasy; ending up staying over at said sleepover to have some fun of your own with the two single dads you're crushing on? Not so much...

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: dilfs! Toji + Nanami x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern setting; single parents au - implied you + Nanami are in early 30s; Toji is in late 30s - Tsumiki (age 10), Megumi, Yuuji and Nobara (8) - mutual pining/crushing - fluff then SMUT then fluff - kissing/making out - mutual masturbation (m! + f! receiving) - breast fondling + nipple play + sucking - Daddy kink - threesome - double penetration; anal and vaginal - spoon/sidesaddle dp + reverse cowgirl dp positions - clitoral play (swiping) - praise - breeding kink - cervix fucking - unprotected sex (psa: wrap the willy; don't be silly) - pet names (angel, baby, good girl, love, mama, sweetheart, sweetie) - Nobara is your daughter; Yuuji is Nanami's - mention of drool/spit and tears.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 9.8k (Christ almighty...)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: based on this ask from one of my anons; so happy to be writing an actual fic after a month, yippeee!! and tysm for 7.7k, my loveliesss!!

“Hahah, I win again!”

“No fair, I used the aerials like you taught me, what!?

“Yeah, but there’s no point using them if you’re just gonna let Itadori counter.”

“Shut up, Megumi! Hey, Yuuji, one more time!”

“Hey, keep it down, you three.” You warn the children who cause a ruckus in the living room from the dining table. 

There’s nothing wrong with hanging with friends or going to someone’s house to play. Children are highly encouraged to do so to form deeper relationships! It’s what you’d want for your child, your sweet daughter poking out of her public shyness now that she’s playing video games with two of her best friends at a playdate.

Your daughter, Nobara, heard your warning and swerved her head back to apologize. “Sorry, momma! Itadori’s just cheating!”

“No, I’m not!” The pink-haired boy sitting next to your brunette daughter on the living room floor retorts. “She just sucks at playing!”

“Why you…” The two kids glare and argue to themselves while another sits on the living room couch and sighs at the interaction before him. Megumi was his name, the raven-haired boy putting his attention back on the animal encyclopedia he was reading. 

You chuckle before speaking again, “Well, cheating or not, keep your voices down, okay? Tsumiki is trying to do her homework.”The kids nod and return to their fun on the television; the sounds of controller buttons mashing and clicking fill the absence of their voices, and you go back to what you were primarily doing. “Need any help there, Tsumiki?”

The fourth grader perks up from using her name, flashing a weary smile in your direction. “I’m trying to find these countries for my quiz on Monday, but where are Colombia and Guyana…?” The paper before the little girl exhibited a blank sheet with a map of the North and Southern American continents; a word bank is provided to the side with a list of countries. 

Getting up from your chair, you walk to the vacant side where Tsumiki is and sit alongside her. “Hmm, let’s look at this together…”

This wasn’t your home; it belonged to the father of Yuuji Itadori. Staying during your daughter’s playdates was a rarity, particularly in another parent’s house. Yet today is a Friday, and you didn’t really have much to do other than clean the apartment and maybe catch up on a show or two. Besides, it didn’t hurt to watch the kids play and laugh now and then.

Luckily, you aren’t the only parent here; two other parents are taking out of their day to monitor the kids with you! The only problem is that…they make your stay a bit difficult.

Footsteps are heard descending the hall from the bedrooms, and your eyes peer to find a man walking into the kitchen area. “How’s studying going?” Golden blonde hair was the first you see, followed by the pleasant look of his chocolate brown eyes. A slim-fit grey long-sleeved shirt hugs his frame well, accompanied by dark-fitted jeans and dress socks. Kento Nanami, Yuuji’s adoptive father, has entered the scene and has made your heart skip to an irregular tune.

Thankfully, saving you from making a fool, Tsumiki answers the man. “Good, Auntie Y/n is helping me remember countries of South America!” She says with a blinding smile. 

“Is that so?” Nanami opens a cupboard to pull out a glass to pour water. “You think you’ll be okay for the quiz?”

“Mmmm, if I remember five countries out of ten, I should be fine. I know more, thanks to Y/n!”

“Good,” your breath hitches when he walks to stand behind the chair you were sitting on. “And how are those three?” 

You cough before averting your gaze to the living room. “They’re fine,” you watch your daughter exclaim in glory after finally beating Yuuji in the video game. The salmon-haired child groans in defeat, standing up to switch with Megumi so the other can play. “Nobara loves playing with the boys; they make her competitive spirit wild. It’s funny because she’s usually quiet and soft-spoken around me and others. However, that doesn’t explain her track record with terrorizing the boys of the school…”

Nanami chortles at your observation, the sound almost hypnotizing you. “Children bring out a different side in each other, helps them grow.”

“Wise words—“  

Grrooorrr!

You both stop at the sound of a rumble, glancing at Tsumiki to see that it is her grumbling stomach. The child chews her quivering lip and hides her face by looking back at her homework. You giggle, “You hungry?” She nods slowly. “Me too, sweetie; the pizza should be here any minute.”

“That’s odd,” Nanami takes a sip from his glass. “He said the food would be done by the time he’s off work. It’s almost 7 o’clock, is there traffic on—“

KA-CHA! CLACK-CLINK!

“Yo, I’m here with the pizzas,” another voice, a lot lower and gruff than the blonde’s, enters the space. Your heart skips again, and you instinctively turn to find the source — you know who the source is. 

Giant steps draw near the kitchen area, keys rustle as he stuffs them inside his jeans pocket, and the other hand holds three pizza boxes. After putting the food on the kitchen island, the man scratches his onyx head and stretches. His loose-fit cotton sweatshirt slips for a peak of his abs to be seen, and your eyes pull back before they hook onto the tanned skin for too long. Green eyes capture yours, and a smirk uproots the scar on the right of his lips. “Hey, Y/n,” the way he says your name pulls you in. “Good thing I caught ya before you could leave.”

You gulp to wet a dry throat. “It’s good to see you, too, Toji.”

Toji Fushiguro, the father of Tsumiki and Megumi, strides from the island down to where you three are, ruffling his daughter’s brown hair as a greeting. “How’s homework goin’?”

She swats her father’s hand away, fixing her ponytail. “It’s okay, I’m just hungry now.”

On that note, you decided it was time for everyone to take a break and eat. “All right, kids, the pizza’s here; come over and eat!” Nobara wastes no time springing out of the couch and sprints for the dining chair next to Tsumiki after you stand to grab the paper plates. 

The boys don’t move, eyes glued to the screen and fingers moving across the controllers. Nanami tries to get their attention again, only for Yuuji to excuse themselves for a few minutes. The golden-haired father looks to the other before giving him a curt nod, a signal for Toji to walk to where the boys were sitting and turn off the television. They groan in unison before the black-haired man picks them up effortlessly and waltzs back to the dining table. “Time to eat, squirts.”

You have known Nanami for a long time, meeting him around when Nobara was still aged by months and could barely walk. Being a first-time parent is no easy task, especially since the man took Yuuji as his own after the death of the baby’s parents and grandfather when he was just a newborn. The transition from sober salaryman to committed fatherhood wasn’t an gradual one. But you know what they say: it takes a village, no matter how big or small. You found Nanami at the perfect time while you took care of Nobara, lending a helping hand to the single guardian whenever he needed advice or help looking after the pink-haired babe. He’d return the favor, of course, having you two spending and getting to know more about each other throughout the years. So, as the babies grew and became friends, so did you and him. 

Toji entered your life around the same time as well; a single father of two was just as [if not more] challenging as your scenario. Not to mention – the poor man had to work ungodly hours, sometimes calling up a friend to look after his kids. You felt for him, even Nanami, so you’d help him out as well whenever he needed it, whether it be picking up Tsumiki and dropping her off at daycare or rocking three-month-old Megumi to sleep and waiting for the father to return home safely deep in the night.

Without the hood of parenthood, you three wouldn’t have become such good friends. Although there have been rough moments, at least you had the two to share and relate with if necessary. You’re so thankful for both fathers being in your life, serving as dependable outlets as you three grow along with your children. And it’s an even bigger blessing watching the kids have become great friends — practically inseparable! Words cannot express the gratitude for Nanami and Toji, treasuring the men so much that you’d love to maintain this mutual relationship with them as long as possible.

Being friends is more than enough; however, a tiny piece of yourself wishes something more to come out of this friendship. Admitting that to yourself is enough to have your ears heat up in shame. Crushing on the two fathers like some school girl, how embarrassing…

But can you blame yourself? As you all sit down and eat around the dinner table, you find it hard to restrict your eyes from wandering to either side of the table where the men sit. 

Don’t get it twisted; you’ve always thought of the dads to be attractive men. However, the more time you’ve spent visiting and getting to know them, you’ve found that they’ve become more and more charming as the years go by. Now, it has gotten a lot worse.

Nanami is so entrancing to the eye — damn near looks as if he walked out of a movie set. His mocha eyes were so soft and perfect with his mellow tone. The charismatic blonde easily played with your heart with how attentive he was, making sure if you and Nobara ever needed anything or ever wanted someone to voice with. God, he was too good to be true, it was hard not to fall in love with him — you were honestly mesmerized the moment he first said your name. Now, solely seeing him is enough to make your ears hot and your heart race. Your admiration for him threatens to dwell into that of a childish crush — how mortifying! 

And Toji — fuck, that man. Aside from having a body literally sculpted like an Olympic athlete, the dark-haired man was somebody who knew how to wind you down. Maybe it was the baritone voice that always captured your attention or the mischievous jokes and flirts he’d throw your way; whatever it was, Toji knew how to draw you in. Sure, you were a little intimidated by him at the start, but that’s long been substituted with feelings of trust and mutual respect from seeing how much of a good father he tries to be for his children. Although, the more you hear his gruff laugh, see his smile pull the scar, or forest green eyes drilling holes into your very being, the more you want to slap yourself for thinking about him day by day!

Goddamn it! As you sit at this table chewing on your pizza slice with the others, all you can think about is how pathetic you must be for falling for the two heartthrobs of your life. It’s appalling how these two fathers have yet to snatch up somebody, knowing there would be lines of people wanting a piece of them. And you sigh heavily, thinking if there’s ever a possibility you’d be lucky enough to be on the receiving end with either.

Probably not…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Annnnd BAM! UNO!”

“What?? You’re cheating!”

“Am not! You can put draw twos on plus fours!”

“Hah!? That’s not in the rules!”

“So? That’s how my mom plays.”

Why am I being brought into this… You shake your head as you observe the kids play their final card game before bed. All the children are dressed in their respective pajamas, sitting in a circle around couch pillows as they draw and place cards down. The sunset has long been set as the hour hand touches the eleventh number; the kids usually go to bed at eight or nine. But it’s the weekend and meant to be a sleepover, so one or two more hours of fun shouldn’t hurt anyone.

“UNO Out!!” Except for the heavy groans shared with Megumi and Yuuji as Nobara finishes the card game with an enthusiastic slam, turning around to give the older brunette a high five. “See, Tsumiki? I told you I can handle it!”

“Man, that’s not fair,” Yuuji throws his card pile to the floor in exasperation. “Wish I knew about that rule beforehand.”

Megumi does the same, “You should’ve made the rules clear before we played the game.”

“Wahh, keep complaining, loser,” Your daughter annoys the boy with a blown raspberry. “Fine, we can try again; if I win, I’ll have Yuuji's bed to myself and Tsumiki.”

“Not happening!” You and the salmon-haired child deny the winner’s request, and the girl only snickers mischievously while Tsumiki deals the cards. 

Saved by the sound of footsteps approaching from the hall, Nanami is now here to dismiss the bunch. “All right, kids, time for bed.” Every one of them mourned at the statement; Yuuji quickly requested five more minutes, only to be shut down by his father. “Nope. I’m done with my shower, so you four must get to bed — that was the deal.”

“Aww man…” The four begrudgingly get up from the living room floor after putting the cards away and setting the pillows back on the couches. Before they leave, they wish you a good night. “Goodnight, Mom!” Nobara comes rushing to you for you to kiss her cheek.

“Goodnight, sweetpea,” you let go of her so she could run back. “And you three — where are my kisses?” Yuuji and Tsumiki happily come for you to place a goodnight kiss on their cheek. All that’s left is the silent child of the bunch who, unfortunately, doesn’t slip past your eyes. “That means you too, Megumi. Or else I’ll chase you down and kiss you up a storm like last time, you hear?”

The black-haired one fights a smile creeping his face, slowly taking steps to where you sat and fidgets as you kiss his cheek. You wish the boy goodnight, and he follows the others down the hall to the bedroom after doing the same. 

“Fushiguro’s in the shower now.” Now that the children are gone, Nanami sits on the left side of the couch before dimming the ceiling lights. He turns on the television, “Seems like they’re having fun.”

“Mmm, they are,” you settle by the middle to be close to him. “I can’t believe they’re all so big now. Didn’t Yuuji just turn eight years old last month?”

“Mhmm, he’s now the same age as Nobara and Megumi,” he says with a smile. “For a little while, that is. He is the youngest, after all.”

“You’re right, poor thing.” You giggle with a stretch. “Nobara’s gonna be nine this August, and Megumi at the end of the year…”

“Hmm. We are old.”

That made you laugh hysterically as the delivery of the comment sounded so defeated yet true. It’s okay, though, since Nanami was laughing himself with a shaken head. “Don’t say it like that! They say you get sexier during your thirties.”

“Are you sure about that? My grandfather had photos from his thirties, and he was balding and getting chunkier before turning thirty-five.” More laughter seeps through your lips. “I don’t know, Y/n; not all of us can keep fit like Fushiguro; he still works out while halfway approaching forty.”

“Now, hold on, Nanamin,” you grin while pointing to Nanami, and you can see him try to fight a smile after using the nickname he supposedly doesn’t like. “You can’t say shit, either; you still look like a model coming straight out of a Men’s Vogue magazine!” That made him laugh more, the sound warming your heart. "You still got it, Kento; a real prince charming."

“Why thank you, Y/n,” he appreciates the compliment.

“Of course.” 

The silence following that felt unsettling and had you fidgeting with the bottom of your halter top. Five uncomfortable minutes of nothing but the lowered volume of the television to fill the space. Come on, Y/n, keep the conversation going. “So, almost ten years, huh? A whole decade.” You watch Nanami nod along through your peripheral. “I remember the first time I met you; you looked like you barely got any sleep for the past month.”

“Because I didn’t. I was hassling with back-to-back meetings, on the cusp of finding another job to take outside of being a salaryman, and then had little newborn Yuuji to come home and put to sleep after feeding. Thank God you could babysit for him with Nobara; I’m forever grateful.”

“Oh God, I remember when you came home so tired while I was rocking both to sleep. I think that was the first and only time I’ve ever seen you fall asleep on the couch; so tired you forgot to greet me!” 

“We don’t talk about that,” he scratches his ear. “That wasn’t so bad when we promised to watch over Megumi and Tsumiki during the weekend while Fushiguro went to take up so many jobs. He fell to his knees once he passed the threshold, and I had to walk him to his bed.” 

You tittered at the recollection — all the memories mentioned made you feel warm and glad, all the years coming back to you with a happy memory. “We’ve done good, though. We managed, and the kids are growing to be good friends.”

“Before you know it, maybe Nobara will come to you about liking the boys—“

“That isn’t happening; I asked her the question like three weeks ago, and she said if she and the boys were the last people on Earth, she’d kill herself.” Nanami gasped and stifled a laugh, but you could see his shoulders bounce. “A third grader — an eight-year-old – telling me she’d off herself rather than be with one of the boys. Talk about radical...At least she loves to hang with them; she loves those boys like they’re her little brothers.” 

The blonde hums to your words. “Them being close is a blessing. I guess that’s thanks to us, having each other’s backs all these years.” 

It’s your turn to nod to him. “True, and I’m just glad they like being with each other.”

“Same here; Yuuji likes being with you guys,” he throws his head back. “…Just like I do.”

You blink. “What do you mean?” Suddenly, you feel as though you shouldn’t have asked that question because the way Nanami turns his head to look at you nearly paralyzes you. Oh my God…

“I like being with you.” He says it tenderly, only for your ears to pick up. “You make me feel at peace when you’re around, and I’m not as close to anyone as I am with you. A decade of you being in my life has made it more serene and…fun. So, I like it when you’re with me.”

You didn’t breathe a single puff of air during his speech. The worst part was that these were Nanami’s words — they were genuine. You could feel it in his bronze gaze, your heart unable to control itself. 

And it doesn’t help that your eyes took in every detail of him; his hair, usually neat and styled, is now down and damp from the shower, strands of hair sticking to his forehead. His home wear comprised a loose sweatshirt and dark grey sweats, but you snuck a glance of his collarbone that peaks from the opening collar of his shirt. You move your gaze to the floor to stop yourself from looking any further, or else more fuel for indecent fantasies will be stored for later!

Fingers fiddle with each other as you chew on your lip. God, Y/n, just fucking say it! “I, uhh…I like being with you, too, Nanami.”

“Do you really have to go?” He scoots in. “You know I don’t mind you staying over.”

“I—ahem—I think, yeah…I wouldn’t want to intrude on you and Toji; I’m sure you two would wanna catch up on stuff. I’ll just come back and pick Nobara up in the morning before—”

You stop uttering more once you feel a sudden hand on your right shoulder. Turning to your left, you didn’t even realize Nanami scooting to be so close to you, his face a hand’s length away from yours. Once again, you have forgotten how to breathe. And when he places his left hand on your right that lies on your lap? You don’t move a centimeter.

“I want you to stay,” his tone low and sincere. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I like you being around me. I…” He brings your hand to his lips, and a soft kiss makes you gasp faintly. “I love it, actually.”

You gulped. There’s no way this is happening right now. There’s just no way! “Kento—“

“I mean it.” He kisses your knuckles again, his eyes locked in with yours. He chuckles, “You were right.”

“About…what?”

“As you grew older, you have changed quite a lot. You’re…Well, no, you’ve always been pretty. But, all these years, you’ve become a lot more beautiful,” he draws his face in closer. “Breathtaking,” you instinctively close your eyes when his nose brushes yours. “Sexier.”

Nanami’s lips land on yours on the final word, and you don’t move a muscle when he does so. They felt soft against yours, perfect for the mellow kiss. It doesn’t last long, only a few seconds. Yet you quivered as he withdrew, placing his forehead against yours as his hand weaved with your fingers. 

“Ken…” Fuck, this is too much. The hand on your shoulder exhibits no interest in getting off. “I can’t, I have to—“ he shushes you with another kiss. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” What the fuck!? Did he just use a pet name on you? “You know I can take care of you, right? Even for one night,” you tremble when he licks your bottom lip. “Stay for tonight, okay?”

“Kento..” He pauses when you hesitantly remove your right hand from his grasp, thinking you’d push him off. But then you bring both hands to cup his sunken cheeks, caressing him with your thumbs. “…More.”

He doesn’t wait a second, accepting your request and bringing his back on yours. Small pecks to the lips gradually become more arousing and tilted heads to achieve a better angle for entry. You moan to his mouth, and so does he. Tongues slowly become adventurous, twirling with each other and exploring the other’s mouth. It feels so good; you lean into Nanami’s hold with every kiss. And he happily accepts you as he gives you more. 

Jesus Christ, something straight out of a dream. And if it was, you only hope to indulge in it for a little longer. More, more—

“What do we have here?”

However, you can’t indulge if another person comes into the frey unsuspectedly. 

Two bodies retreat from each other, sitting awkwardly on the couch appropriately as Toji walks into the living room. Your lips shook with anxiousness, stealing a glimpse of Toji’s smirk as he walked to your right. You sneak a glance at Nanami, seeing the shade of pink rise on his skin lightly, and you cover your face to shield yourself. Fucking fuck, this is embarrassing!

“Don’t act all shy on me now, you two.” Toji’s weight dents the right side of the couch, extending his arm to be behind you. “Don’t be scared, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Did you check the kids?” Nanami fakes a cough.

“Out like a light,” he answers, creeping his hand from behind onto your shoulder. You shudder at his calloused touch and gruff laugh. “What’s goin’ on, Y/n?” You meekly turned to look at him. Same with Nanami, Toji’s dark hair was damp from the shower, substituting his day outfit with a blank tank top and grey sweatpants. It took everything in your power not to peek at his pecs or exposed biceps. 

You avert your eyes from his. “Nothing…” You saw his chest jerk from a scoff. 

“Wow, you two are really gonna act like some kids, huh.” His snark remark has you both flattening your lips in shame. “Act all quiet when somethin’ happened.”

He prompted you to question. “How much…did you see?”

“I saw the kiss — you looked like you were enjoyin’ it.” He purposely said that to make your cheeks hot, the brazen bastard. “But I heard Kent here say he means it when he likes havin’ ya ‘round.”

Nanami speaks up while scratching his brow. “Y/n was, uhh, just about to leave.”

Toji lifts a brow. “Leave? When the night is still young?” He subtly shakes you. “Why so soon, hmm? It’s the weekend; I just got outta the shower an’ hoped you’d be here a lil' while.” He spoke to you slowly. It was a dangerous approach with that husky voice. He squeezes your shoulder when you’re not answering. 

“I just….You and Nanami probably have some ‘guy stuff’ you wanna catch up on, and I don’t want to come in between that, you know?” It’s here you muster the courage to look at the raven-haired man. Big mistake; now he has your attention where he wants it.

“So considerate, huh,” his free hand comes to your cheek, and you’re frozen as he plays with the flesh of it. “I think you should stay, Y/n. What kind of friends would we be if we let you drive out late." 

It’s hard to remind your body to breathe when Toji is surveying you intimately. What the fuck—why is this happening all of a sudden!?? “You–Toji, it’s okay, I’ll—“

“Besides,” he teases you by rubbing your earlobe with his thumb and forefinger. “I like you bein’ here, too.” You’re too distracted from him bringing his face to your neck to kiss, evoking an unstable gasp. “Lookin’ all pretty fr’ me…”

“Toji…—Ahh!” You didn’t notice him slide his hands down to the chest area of your halter top, his large palms groping your breasts affectionately. His kneads are rough yet pleasing, having you whimpering for him. “Don’t touch so…Hahhh…”

“Bad girl,” he chuckles to your ear after placing a kiss on your cheek. “Over here lettin' Kent touch you and think you can leave without me havin’ you for a bit, especially when you were eyein' us up earlier today...” He kisses your lips to take in your silent squeaks from fondling your chest, and you mewl for him. “Daddy wants you, too, baby…Heh, so does Kent.”

You peer to your left to see the mentioned man, and you’re taken aback to see him close to your side again. Holy shit. You literally questioned about this earlier, wondering if you’d ever be on the receiving side of these two. You did NOT expect this answer to come out of the blue within a few hours! And now that it’s here, how could you leave now?! This is what you wanted. And – to your surprise – so did they. 

You swallow spit and lift your left leg to the couch. And Nanami notices the initiative, coming between your legs to kiss your lips again. Your back pressed against Toji’s chest, you’re caged between the two men who seek to pleasure you in this proximity. You moan to Nanami sucking on your tongue, coinciding with the satisfying kneads of your breasts. 

Suddenly, Nanami breaks the kiss with a groan, and Toji chortles close to your ear. Curious, your eyes venture down to find that Toji’s hand grasps the tent of the blonde’s sweatpants. “Enjoyin’ y’rself, huh, Kent?” Toji strokes his hand on the boner, evident through the clothes.

“Toji, st—Hnnn…!” You watch this, eyeing Nanami’s composure slip away as his cock is being touched. The older man willingly massages his friend’s dick, and you observe how he effortlessly makes the sand-headed man hornier with his hand alone. It makes you feel hot, sensing a throbbing sensation in between your thighs. So, you silently bring a hand to sneak inside the hem of your wide-leg jeans. 

But you don’t go unnoticed because Toji kisses your cheek. “Like what ya see, sweetie?” He rests his chin on your shoulder. “Want me to take care of you? Here,” he then takes your hand to swap with his, your fingers feeling the rough skin of Nanami’s cock as you hold it. “Make him feel good, ‘kay?” 

You couldn’t believe it — Nanami’s hot, living cock was in your grasp. And as you have begun to stroke him, the noises he made turned you on even more. His veins are felt in your very palm, and precum exuding from his urethra lubricates the pretty fingers around his length. You can’t help but imagine how it would feel to have him ease the aching pulses between your legs, how good it would feel to have his girth massage your insides.

But your crude thoughts are interrupted by Toji’s left hand skillfully unbuttoning and unzipping your jeans, slithering inside your panties, and meeting your wet cunt with his fingers. You jolt, but he’s right there to coo, “Relax, mama,” his free hand squeezes your chin to turn and face him. “Daddy’s gotcha…So fuckin’ beautiful,” Toji slams his lips into you for a steamier kiss, and you lose yourself.

Your hand on Nanami goes faster, eliciting extra precum to escape and stain the material of his sweats. Nanami leans forward to lick and suck the skin of your neck, forcing you to break the kiss with Toji to wail inaudibly while his fingers brush up on your soaked folds with unforgiving speed. Not to mention his bulge grinding against your back…

“Ahhnn, wait, guyss, we can’t—Mmmm…!” Toji kisses you again, grinning at your expression as he sucks and nibbles on your tongue. “We can’t do this…Not here…”

“Why?“ Nanami blows on your ear. “What’s wrong, love?”

CREEAAKK!!

That’s what’s wrong!

Like a flipped switch, all three adults unscrew themselves away from each other and sit back into their original positions. Nanami immediately pulls his pants back up, using a couch pillow to hide the situation that shouldn’t be present as he’s sitting in the living room. Toji follows suit, leaning on the couch arm. 

Sounds of tiny footsteps draw near, and they belong to none other than your daughter, who sleepily rubs her eyes coming into the space. You are the first thing she sees, “Momma? You’re still here?” 

“Mhmm,” you hoped you didn’t sound too off. “I’m just watching a movie with Uncle Toji and Kento. What are you doing up?”

“I thought I heard your voice,” Nobara walks to you and puts her head on your shoulder, and you voluntarily pick her up to have her sit on your lap. You smile; even though she’s growing day by day, she’s still your baby at heart. “Didn’t you say you’d leave after I go to bed?”

“Yeah, I was supposed to,” the two men sitting on either side of the couch say nothing. “And I can’t go now, seeing you’re still up.”

Nobara nuzzles into your neck. “Does that mean you’ll spend the night, too?” 

“Mmm, I wish I could, sweetpea,” you kiss her forehead. “But I didn’t bring any change of clothes or pajamas. I don’t even have my toothbrush – I’d be walking around with stinky breath.” You hear the girl giggle at your words.

What you just said gave the two fathers an idea, the men giving each other a look before saying anything. “I have some unused travel-size toothbrushes and toothpaste I’ve kept from business trips.” Nanami inquires; you put your foot in your mouth on that one.

Toji adds, “You can use the sweatshirt I wore today as PJs. I don’t mind.”  

Of course, you don’t.  Shaking your head, you knew what the two were insinuating. The adult language is too nuanced for your daughter to pick up on. It’s not like you’ve never slept over Nanami’s place before; you’ve done it dozens of times — even Toji’s! However, this time was different; you three have crossed a line you didn’t think was possible. What happened minutes ago was a mere taste of what could happen if you three decided to change this relationship into something more intimate. And now, after revealing the curiosity, the men were all in to see it through.

…And yet, you can’t say you don’t feel the same either. Are you kidding? You have goosebumps just thinking back on how close you three were, how their hands and lips felt on your skin, and their attention placed on nothing – on no one else – but you. It made your heart beat uncontrollably, knowing that your decade-long crush on them was being favored in more ways than one — like a dream come true!

“Mom?” Snapping back to reality, you peer to Nobara, who awaits your answer. With a smile, you boop her nose with a finger.

“Only if you go back to sleep, sweetpea.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The hour hand had finally met the twelfth number, the midnight hour designating the quiet neighborhood into a calm slumber. Light posts automatically turn on to display the sidewalk, yet the darkness of the night serves as a blanket to cover the silent homes. 

Nanami’s home was simple — a one-floor house perfect for the blonde man and his son. Aside from the living room and kitchen, it had a hall that harbored the bedrooms, Yuuji’s guest bathroom, and closet. The children were all resting in Yuuji’s room, the first door to the left you’d meet when entering the hallway. Other than the master bedroom, there was no other room besides the living room couch for you to sleep in. 

Being by yourself is something Nanami wouldn’t want, and Toji would’ve primarily taken the couch since you had no plans of staying. But since that’s been changed, the two men took this opportunity to enjoy their sleepover with your company, using the master bedroom at the end of the hall to further themselves from the ears of the snoring kids. Tonight, you’d finally have your answer by being spoiled by your crushes all night.

“Dahhh, Toji, yer tongue…fingers…Ohhh!”

“Fuck, Y/n, you look so gorgeous…Here, kiss me, angel.”

“Mmmm, fuckin’ shit, y’ taste so good…Waited so long fr' this..."

You were practically stuck with them the moment they locked the door. After borrowing Nanami’s shower, your nude body was met with hungry hands and hot kisses, drowning your senses with their overwhelming presence. Three naked bodies lie on the bed, you with your back to the sheets and legs spread. To your right was Nanami, making out with you lovingly while a hand cups and massages a breast. Toji had his face nestled between your thighs, his tongue licking around your labia and fucking your vagina, inspiring you to cry for the blonde next to you. The older man also pleases you by fingering your asshole with lube, conditioning it for future use.

You melt into Nanami’s kiss, and soft tweaks on your nipple make you mewl into his lips more. But you withdraw to scream, “Ahhaaa! Kentoo, touch me more…”

“Hmm? What, baby?” He presses his lips to your cheek, kissing your chin to the outlet between your neck and shoulders. “You like it when I play with your chest?” A low snicker humors him from watching you nod, and he brings his mouth to your nipple to suck on. 

You grip the sheets, “Ohhh, hooo…! Tojiii, y’re gonna make me c—Uuuhh!”

He separates his mouth from your soapy folds, and your liquids stick to his chin. What an obscene sight with the grin he has on his face. “Yeah? Ya wanna cum on my mouth, mama?” Unlike Nanami, Toji doesn’t take a nod; he’s a bit of an asshat, so he licks your clitoris to tease. “Use them words, baby; wanna hear you say it fr’ me.”

“Y–Yesss, yes, I do,” a hushed howl after Toji sucks on your pearl and the other rubbing on your nipple to the roof of his mouth. “Pleaseee, I wanna cum…!”

“Heh, well, don’t go cummin’ on me just yet,” he kisses your slit before straightening up and pats your inner thigh. “All ready fr’ ya, Kent.”

Nanami then releases your nipple with a ‘pop’ and maneuvers to lay on his side. “Come here,” he asks,  resting your head on his arm and lifting your leg. You hum at the contact of his glans meeting your cunt, “So wet for me, huh?” He pushes his cock to the entrance, and you gasp at the tip inserted into your vagina. “Relax, angel,” he coos to you with a kiss on your nose, gauging your reaction as he slowly snugs your vagina with every inch of his cock. 

Your mouth goes agape at the stretch of you taking him in; the feeling of his cock feels too good and surreal. And the brush of his dick on your sweet spots has you squeak, same with him poking on your cervix. He throws in a few thrusts to start, but you didn’t expect that. No, fuck! He rubs on your walls at a precise angle, prompting your orgasm to come a bit too quickly to comprehend. So, you have to bite your lip to keep your scream hushed, letting the flutter of your cunt speak for you. 

And Nanami notices it, hissing at the contraction. “—Hnnm! Shit…Did you cum, sweetheart?”

“Oh, did they?” And here comes Toji, straddling both the bodies below him. He leans into your face, licking your ear. “Felt that good, huh, baby? We haven’t even started.” He kisses your forehead before uncurling back up and aligning his dick to your lubed anus. Then, he pushes the tip to be swallowed by your puckered hole, and you mumble small prayers as his fat length is pushed inside. “Shit, this tight ass…”

The older man begins to move into you, his shaft churning the inside of your ass. Nanami does the same, his cock scraping your insides synched with Toji’s rhythm. The movement has you immediately making noise beyond your control, wails bouncing around the space between you and the men. 

It isn’t long before the two find a groove; Toji pistons his cock with every pull of Nanami’s, and sounds of skin slapping lasciviously against each other are picked up by your ears. How could you not tighten more around the limbs inside you, especially when they scrape on against your tender wails so accurately? Especially after coming, your nerves have not yet recovered from the wave earlier. 

“Ohh! Hoooh fuuuck,” your back arches a bit, helping the sand-haired man to find a better angle to scratch the upper wall of your vagina. Your vision is screwed shut, making it easier to indulge in the sensation of their cocks ravaging your insides. 

Toji sees you from up top, his eyes traveling down to your ass and whistling at the sight of you taking his and the other’s dick. “Damn, ya feel so good, Y/n. Ass so tight, act like ya don’t wanna let go.”

God, why’d he have to say it like that? Your face was hot enough; did he want to make you melt on this bed? And Nanami doesn’t make it any better. “Heheh, they twitched,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, felt it, too…What’s goin’ on, sweetie?” Toji pulls his cock until his cockhead is on the verge of coming out, and he slams it back down to have you moan aloud. “Ya like bein’ fucked like this? Takin’ Daddy’s cock like a good girl…?”

“They’re gripping me again.”

“Ken, stoop!!” The fair-headed man laughs at your protest, your resilience still present even if it’s wiped away in seconds when Toji quickens his pace. “Nnhhh…! N-Not too fast, I’m sensit’veee—Ahhh!” 

“You say that, but your body says otherwise, love,” Kento brings a hand to your hip to massage. “—Nnnn! Jesus…wanna cum so bad…”

Oh, fuck, imagine: being filled to the brim by Nanami’s come? Being stuffed by both of them? It turned you on so bad. “—OhhhGod, please, cum inside me!”

Gold eyebrows furrow. “I can’t, baby; don’t got a condom on—“

“It’s okay, I want it…!” The thought of getting pregnant again should be the very last thing that should pop into your mind right now. And yet, being knocked up by these two has you craving Nanami’s release even more. “Pleaseeplease, I want you to fill me up…! Don’t hold back for me, Ken.” You can tell he’s still on the fence about it. But with a kiss on his nose and a soft hand on his cheek, you convince him otherwise.

“Wanna be the mother of my child so bad, huh?” He says with a chortle, “So beautiful…” Before he snaps his hips into you, Nanami brings you in for one more kiss and wraps his hand on your shoulder to keep you close. He ruts into you with purpose, making sure he’s balls-deep with every push and reaching the deepest he can. You howl at the brush of your cervix again, allowing him to use you to chase his climax.

“Oh? You got him going, now,” Toji comments from above with a smirk, still maintaining the pace with Nanami despite the younger male going erratic. Your screams go higher and higher, so you bring in a hand to cover up the noise. This was not the time to test how thick the bedroom walls were, despite the kids sleeping a closet and office away. 

Nanami groans into your lips; his length relentlessly rubs your silky texture. And when his orgasm does reach him, he grinds his pelvis, stirring his length so deep that you can’t help but writhe with him. You can feel his penis pulsate with every pump of his load inside you, satisfying your excitement as your hand massages his skull. He keeps you like this until his body has calmed down, sluggishly removing his pillowy lips from yours with a sigh. 

Chocolate brown orbs are fixated on yours, the hand on your hip coming up to wipe spit from your face. “God, you drive me crazy. Making me cum inside, one child’s not enough?”

You titter, “Well, wouldn’t hurt to have another, you think?…Mmmm,” you almost forget about Toji. The raven-haired man removes himself from your ass, his shaft still standing.

“Don’t forget ‘bout me, now,” he reminds you two of his presence, getting his frame off you both so you can move around. 

You stand with your knees between Nanami’s legs while he sits upright. “Come here,” he places his hands on your hips and leads you back onto his cock. This time, he’s the one entering your asshole, and you both moan at the union of your sexes. Once your ass meets the base of his pelvis, his arms wrap around your waist and carefully bring you down with him. Your back to his chest, his lips to your ear. “So tight and warm…Hmmm.”

This position is new to you – in fact, this was all new! You can’t remember the last time you had your body this close and intimate with another figure. It’s been so long – damn near bizarre - especially when your heat is transferring with the gold-haired man behind you. The aroused hums to your ears have you throb involuntarily; you could melt into his arms right about now.

That thought goes out the window when Toji’s weight has you looking in front of you, and your brain nearly shuts down at the sight of the older man coming in between your legs to lift them, his emerald eyes locked on yours. Jesus, fuck! You had to turn away – it was all too much! 

“Ah ahh, don’t go turnin’ ‘way from me,” he gives your legs for Nanami to hold from the back of your knees, and then he cups your cheeks and moves your face back to him. “Waited almost ten years to have you like this, so I wanna see all of you, mama.” Just when your face couldn’t get any more unreasonably hot, this handsome bastard just had to say that while fondling your chest! And it doesn’t help the other charming face is placing kisses on your neck. 

Toji uses this position to spread your folds; he can’t suppress the ardent smirk lifting his scar. “Kent did his thing on you, and ya still want more, huh?” You press your lips together when he slaps his glans on your leaky chasm. “Watch...” Your eyes follow down to the tip of his dick, vulgarly using the come seeping out of you as lube. You gasp sharply at the insertion, “Breathe fr’ me, baby,” he coaxes you through every inch of him, burrowing inside your inner channel that you almost forget to blink from the display. The girth of him has you wail beneath him, and you cry at the poke of your cervix again! Christ, you don’t know how long you can do this. 

“—Hnngh…! Fuck, good girl,” the dark-haired one praises, grinding his pelvis down to churn more friction inside you. “So good fr’ Daddy...”

Slow ruts to your chasm begin the second round, three bodies rocking within a mutual cadence. You throw your head back with shut eyelids concentrating on the two dicks that push to and fro from your holes and scrape your walls. And a choked scream leaves your frame at the jab of your cervix again. 

“Ohhhshiit,” eyebrows furrow with a chewed lip, and the two men begin to quicken the pace. “HooohGod! F’eel so good…Ahahhn!”

Toji puts his hands on the headboard as leverage, using his hips and the flex of his abdomen to take control. Fuck, seeing his nude physique so up close was too marvelous; it couldn’t be true — it shouldn’t be! 

And Nanami is no better while whispering to your ear. “Feeling good, Y/n?” He teases your lobe with a lick, “Gripping on us like crazy as if you’ve been waiting for this, hmm?” You try to protest, but all that comes out are sobs when he jerks his hips unexpectedly. He chuckles, “So cute…Hmm? Heh, you are feeling good, huh, love.”

Can you believe it? Being fucked by these two attractive men, and you’re fingering your clit in the midst of it all? Embarrassment rings your ears as your fingers swipe and grind around the neglected pearl. Toji and Nanami share a look for a split second, and then Nanami switches his hands with the other. Instead, an arm snakes around your waist to keep you on him, and the other silently moves yours aside to play with your clit. 

That only has you crying even harder. Pinches to your clit and kisses to your leg accompany the increased speed of their thrusts. Tears well up at every jolt of your body from the frequent jabs to your vaginal walls, scraping your G-spot so precisely. And the length in your butt keeps feeling so fucking good! Grazing your velvet texture that you can’t think straight.

“—Gaahhh! Mmmph!” Your hand finds Nanami’s wrist to hold on to as his middle and ring fingers swipe on your clitoris. You scream his name when he pitches it softly, “Kent—Ohhh! Shhtop, ish too much!!”

“Yeah, too much?” He toys with it gently. “But I don’t hear you telling me to stop…”

The two of them go at a sporadic pace, skin slapping onto yours harshly in sync. They nearly take your breath away, thanking God they have a hold on you before the momentum steers you away. “Hahah, ohhh, ohmyGod, guys,” Toji bends down to add more of his weight, making you howl from the angle of his fat cock. “I cannn’t; again, I’m about to cuuhmm agaiinn!!!”

“Really? You wanna cum, baby? Mmph! Fuck, this pussy…” He groans. “Gonna be a good girl and let Daddy finish here, yeah?” You nod, and Nanami pinches your clit again on Toji’s behalf. “Words, sweetie, words.”

“Yesss, Daddyyy!” 

“Gonna lay there and look cute while I knock ya up, right?” Again, the thought of having another baby should not have you excited. But again, there’s no way your head could be right during all of this. “Hmm? Want Daddy to give ya a baby?”

“Mmmm! Please, Daddyyy, fill me up…!” You were spouting out nonsense, but who cares? “Make me a mama again…Ohhh!”

And he does just that, pounding his shaft at you so harshly that it rocks your entire body, especially with how he brings your legs up to your chest to have your slit fully exposed for him. “Holy shit,” he bites his lip as he eyes your nude frame before him. “Look so fuckin’ sexy like this, Y/n.”

You couldn’t thank him for the compliment, your lips busy with Nanami’s as he takes you in for a steamy kiss. Both men drill their members into you in erratic unison, leaving you a squealing mess for the fair-headed one to deal with. His hands continue to tweak and grind on your clitoris, and your orgasm hits you before you can prepare yourself with a tear trickling down. 

And the flutter of your walls around their cocks eggs them onto waves of their own, groaning along with your cries as they piston you with the final ruts of their hips. Their pulsating lengths exert their loads inside your holes simultaneously, filling you up with their essence as their sweaty bodies heave and shudder. Nanami releases your clit from his grasp, the same with your lips. 

He hums pleasantly, his brown orbs hooded yet comforting. “Told you I love having you around me.”

“Bet y’re glad you stayed over,” Toji’s hand finds its way to your chin after putting your legs down. He scoffs when you bashfully nod, bringing you in for a kiss. “Did so well, mama…”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Mornings are typically a thing you share with your daughter in the comfort of your home. From the moment she came into your world to having her own room and bed, Nobara would always be the first thing you’d see when waking up. Coming into your room to greet you, pulling you out for something, or get dressed and ready for the day with you – it was a routine the two of you shared, a sacred thing to enjoy between parent and daughter. So, to wake up in a room different from yours or see a different face has been a rarity ever since she became your top priority.

This morning, though, was one of those rarities.

“Good morning, Y/n.”

Your eyes flickered open from birds chirping and the sun peaking from the bedroom curtains. Drowsy eyes scan around to see that you are not in your room, already being alerted that something had happened last night of the change of scenery. And when you look to see who lies beside you, it all hits you like a slap.

It was like a scene from a romance movie, waking up to Nanami’s stunning face that was highlighted by the sunlight. Fair blonde hair that matched the softness of his russet eyes and a kind smile to match. And your breath hitches when he brings a hand to caress your cheek. 

“Mornin’, Y/n.”

And, of course, he wasn’t the only one who’d be greeting you. You sheepishly turn around to see the other man looking at you, viridian orbs ready to meet your pretty face. The smile on his face pulls the scar on his lips, the man effortlessly shooting an arrow into your heart. 

Everything that occurred the night before flashes, and the heat returns to dance on your cheeks and ears. Waking up in a different bed with two handsome men is one thing. To wake up to your crushes greeting you good morning, all three of you nude and comfortable after a night of mutual passion? Oh, you had to be dreaming still.

And yet, you couldn’t look at either of them in the eyes, averting your gaze modestly. “…Good morning,” you say quietly, almost squeaking your heart out when they both move to be closer. They kiss you, embrace you, and give you attention as if your decade-long crush has finally been lifted for them to spoil you. It’s kind of suffocating in a way. But, God, it felt so good.

Eventually, you got up and threw on some clothes to make food for everyone, Nanami joining you after putting his sleepwear back on. Toji had to leave for a moment to grab stuff from the store, his daughter waking up to the sound of him slamming the front door close. Then came Megumi, then Yuuji, who greeted Nanami with a hug, and now Nobara. The children sit around the table and mingle while you and the blonde fix some blueberry waffles, eggs, and bacon.

“Isn’t that my dad’s shirt?” Megumi was the first to notice it, pointing to the sweatshirt that went with your loose jeans — the same sweatshirt that Toji wore yesterday.

You flatten your lips before coming up with an answer. “Yes…I had nothing to wear for sleeping over, so he gave me his shirt. He didn’t mind; he brought an extra one.”

“You stayed over, Auntie?” Yuuji inquired after taking a sip of his apple juice. “Where did you sleep?”

“On the couch.”

Brown brows scrunch together before Nobara asks, “But wasn’t Uncle Toji the one who’d sleep on the couch?” 

You open your mouth, but words fail to exit out. Sharing a glance with Nanami, who coughs while putting waffles on plates, he covers for you. “He slept in my bed with me.”

“You slept with my father?” Tsumiki interrogates, trying to stifle a laugh. “He snores a lot, so I’m sorry if you couldn’t sleep, Uncle Nanami.”

As if on cue, the front door opens and closes with the arrival of her father, walking to kiss Tsumiki’s cheek and ruffle Megumi’s hair before entering the kitchen. He pulls something out of the plastic grocery bag and hands it to you. Putting the mixing bowl down, you take what seems to be a box, and your eyes widen to Toji’s amusement. “I’d take those before leaving if I were you.” 

“Jesus Christ,” you put the box of birth control to the side with a flustered face. “Thank you…” And before you can process it, Toji sneaks a kiss on your cheek with you distracted. The older man cackles to himself when you slap his arm and push him off. Thankfully, none of the kids notice.

“Uncle Toji,” Nobara grabs the man’s attention. “Is it true you slept with Uncle Nanami?” 

The question takes him aback, but Toji’s quick on his feet to reply. “Yeah, I did. Your dad looks like a dead man when asleep, Yuyu.”

The pink-haired child nods along to the nickname. “Mhmm! Even when he comes home from work, he looks like he hasn’t slept in weeks, like some kind of vampire.” You snuck a glimpse at the sand-haired man, who rolled his eyes before bringing plates to put on the table. 

“Anyways,” he diverts the conversation to a different subject, placing a plate full of food in front of the boys. “Be ready for the zoo after breakfast, Yuuji. Didn’t you say you wanted to see the new tiger cubs?”

The Fushiguro siblings brighten with interest at the mention of the zoo, turning to their father, who instantly shuts them down with crossed arms. “Don’t even think about it. I’m already takin’ you two to the aquarium tomorrow; you want me to pay for more tickets for some animals?”

The joy in their eyes diminishes in seconds. “Cheapskate,” Megumi mumbled under his breath, earning a blueberry to be thrown at him by Toji. But the siblings smile when Nanami says that they can come along. 

“Momma,” you dreaded hearing your daughter’s voice during this conversation, hesitantly peering at the dark-haired girl after being given her breakfast. “Can I go, too?” 

Oh, goddamn it. “I’m sorry, baby, but I can’t keep going back and forth from the house and wherever. Besides, you have karate today.”

“I can skip!” Your mouth drops at her enthusiasm. “Besides, we can just sleep over again!”

This girl! “Nobara, you can’t just go making those decisions like this is your home. Did you ask Yuuji’s father if it was okay to stay another night?” You probably shouldn’t have said that, as the girl immediately asks the blonde father the exact question. And to your shock, he says they’re free to stay another night. You’re not helping! “You don’t even have an extra pair of clothes!”

And to make it worse, the onyx-haired man beside you says this, which makes you facepalm with a groan. “I can drive you two home and back. Saves ya some gas.”  You’re not helping either, and you’re just losing gas for my sake!

Mornings were supposed to be an easy thing to deal with. And yet here you are, dealing with a predicament. Shit like this is precisely why you don’t stay for too long during Nobara’s playdates and sleepovers; now you’re backed into a position where saying no seems futile. Nothing wrong with the children wanting to hang out more, but fuck does it throw the routine off. However, it wasn’t all bad. Because the whole point of this was for the little girl to have fun with her friends, who are you to be a Debby downer on her parade?

Plus…you’d get to hang out with Toji and Nanami for another day; that alone has your stomach running laps right now. Not only did you have your feelings reciprocated by the two men within a single night and then some, but you’re now invited to stay another day and enjoy the weekend in their company. You can sense their gazes on you, awaiting your answer – your approval to spoil and please you for one more night. And what makes your heart skip into flips is that there would probably be more days and nights to deepen this relationship between you three…

So, with a heavy sigh, you slide your hand down your face.

“…Can we at least go get some spare clothes first?”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header art by rororogi morgera + dividers by @/cafekitsune.

[skylertheminish]

To say that I haven't played this in a good while, last year in fact. I'm still absolute dog water at this game! But it's coming back to me (along with the nightmares of Flyfish and smallfries).

Regardless I got a good chuckle out of me getting splatted in the first wave.

[goofygubegubler]

‘𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚, 𝑰'𝒎 𝒂 𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓.

Spencer eating you for your dear life, ‘cause baby, he’s a giver.

wc: 2.4k | F!Reader (Established Relationship) | cw: explicit sexual content, cunnilingus, fingering, vibrator use, overstimulation, sleepy sex?, mild power dynamics, teasing, implied age gap

A/N: Spencer is absolutely a giver in my mind, and I hope you all enjoy this! This is my first one-shot and my first time writing smut, so please feel free to share any feedback—I’d really appreciate it! My asks are always open.

Spencer is a giver—there's no doubt about it. He has studied you with a scholar's precision, but his devotion is deeper, almost reverent. He knows where to touch, how to kiss—his mouth slow and consuming, savoring every second, unraveling you with the deliberate slide of his tongue against yours. His teeth scrape over your bottom lip, a teasing sting that he soothes with a lingering press, a soft contrast to the hunger simmering beneath his touch.

And his hands—God, his hands. They move over you like he’s composing something exquisite, mapping each curve, each tremor, each stuttered breath with an intimacy that feels instinctual. He knows how to dismantle you, how to wind you so tightly in pleasure that you shatter in his grasp. His words pour into your ear, dark and teasing, igniting a heat that pools low and aching, leaving you breathless beneath him.

Sleep clings to you in slow waves, pulling you under, weaving you into something intoxicating, something inevitable. His hands find you first—fingertips gliding over your skin like a whisper of possession, tracing your curves, teasing, promising. The heat of his breath spills against your neck, the hushed murmur of your name curling like smoke in the thick air.

Then, his mouth—God, his mouth—claims yours, slow and insistent. His tongue sweeps over your bottom lip before his teeth catch, a bite of sharp, deliberate hunger.

You’re not in bed anymore. You’re pressed against the bookshelf, trembling under his touch, the rough wood biting into your spine, grounding you in the feverish haze. A book slips from your hands, forgotten the moment his lips trail lower, marking their path with slow, open-mouthed kisses.

He hums against your skin, his voice dark, indulgent. "Keep reading for me."

The command slithers down your spine, igniting something helplessly wanton inside you. You try—God, you try—to obey, lips parting, voice trembling, but the second his fingers sink deep, curling just right, the words unravel, lost in a gasp as he drags you under.

A sharp inhale rips you from the dream, the ghost of his touch still imprinted on your skin, heat curling deep and insatiable. Your thighs clench in a feeble attempt at relief, but it isn’t enough. It’s never enough—not when you wake up to find him lying beside you, lips parted, his breathing slow and steady, a cruel reminder that the hands you crave are just beyond reach.

Biting your lip, you slip a hand toward the nightstand, fingers grazing the smooth edge before you pull the drawer open just enough to reach inside. Your fingers find the well-worn spine of your favorite spicy book first—the one Spencer pretends to roll his eyes at but listens to whenever you read aloud in bed.

Beneath it, tucked away like a secret, is the small vibrator you keep for nights just like this—when Spencer is working late, when the ache refuses to fade, when his absence leaves you restless and wanting. You know better. You should just use your fingers—quieter, safer—but this? This is too good to resist. The way it hums against you, the way it sends pleasure curling through your veins in thick, decadent waves.

It’s never been a replacement for Spencer, not really, but God, it’s close enough to take the edge off when you need it most. Your pulse quickens as you wrap your fingers around it, the cool plastic a stark contrast to the heat pooling low in your belly. You hesitate, casting a glance at him—his chest rising and falling in slow, steady breaths, lips parted slightly in sleep—before exhaling softly, determination settling in your bones.

You start slow, pressing the toy against your clit through your panties, barely turning it on, letting the low hum tease you like the ghost of his touch. A quiet gasp escapes, your hips tilting into the sensation, but even this—God, even this—isn’t him.

Frustration coils tighter in your belly, the need for more gnawing at you, demanding. With a shaky exhale, you lift your hips, sliding your panties down, the cool air a stark contrast against the heat between your thighs. The vibrator follows, gliding against slick, sensitive skin, sending pleasure rolling through you in slow, deliberate waves.

Your breath stutters, fingers tightening around the toy as you sink into the feeling, chasing the edge, knowing it won’t ever feel as good as Spencer but unable to stop yourself from trying. The quiet hum of the vibrator is nearly drowned out by your own heavy breaths, the way your body trembles beneath the weight of your own need. Maybe if you just keep quiet, if you move slow—

But then—a shift. The bed dips. A sharp inhale from beside you.

Before panic can settle, warmth floods your senses—a heavy hand pressing against your stomach, grounding you in the moment. His touch is slow, deliberate, fingers splayed, sliding lower until they brush against yours, still gripping the toy. He hums low in his throat, voice thick with sleep yet unmistakably amused.

"Couldn't wait for me, could you?"

Spencer’s fingers curl over yours, his grip firm as he slowly pries the vibrator from your grasp. The moment it’s in his control, the pressure changes—subtly, precise, his touch calculated in a way that makes your breath catch. The sudden shift sends a sharp jolt of pleasure spiraling through you, tearing a gasp from your lips.

"Spencer—" It’s barely a whimper, swallowed by the way his body shifts closer, his breath hot against your neck.

"Shh," he soothes, his lips brushing your temple before trailing down to your jaw, soft and teasing. "Let me help."

His focus is singular. Unwavering.

"Besides," he murmured, pressing another kiss higher, teeth grazing sensitive skin just enough to make you shiver, "it’s only 5:17 a.m." Another pause, another deliberate press of his mouth. "I don’t have to get ready until six." His breath is warm, teasing, wicked. "Plenty of time to enjoy myself."

You let out a breathless laugh, fingers weakly carding through his hair. "You are such a giver, Spence."

His lips curve against your skin, and without missing a beat, he hums, "I do pride myself on my generosity."

Before you can reply, the aftershocks of your last orgasm still making your thighs tremble, he licks a slow, teasing stripe up your center. A full-body shudder ripples through you, your nerves still alight with oversensitivity. His hands tighten around your thighs, thumbs pressing into your skin, keeping you spread open, fully at his mercy. His mouth is warm and relentless, his tongue flicking, circling, pressing just right—like he’s savoring every tiny whimper and every shuddered breath.

He hums against you, the vibration sending another sharp spike of pleasure through your overstimulated body. "Still shaking," he muses, voice muffled against your slick skin. "So sensitive, but I think you can take just a little more, don’t you?"

He shifts, sealing his lips around your clit, sucking with slow, deliberate pressure, his fingers digging into your thighs to keep you from squirming away. Your breath stutters, hips twitching involuntarily as pleasure coils hot and sharp in your stomach, overwhelming, dizzying. It’s too much and yet not nearly enough.

"Fuck—Spencer—"

He groans against you, the vibration sending another sharp jolt of pleasure through your oversensitive nerves. "Mmm. Say my name like that again."

His tongue presses deeper, his pace unrelenting, his hands gripping your thighs to keep you from squirming away. He’s thorough and determined, making sure every flick and swirl sends you hurtling toward that inevitable edge. And just when you think you might catch a break, his fingers join in—sliding inside you, curling just right, stroking in rhythm with his mouth.

You gasp, arching into him, hands flying to his hair, gripping tight. "Spencer, oh my—"

"That’s it," he coaxed between teasing licks. "Give me another one, sweetheart. I know you can."

You try to pull away, but his grip tightens, keeping you in place. His mouth never wavers, his fingers never falter, dragging another sharp cry from your throat as another orgasm crashes over you, leaving you breathless and shivering. You’re still gasping for air when he pulls back just enough to murmur, "Still with me?"

You manage a weak, trembling nod, half-lost in the afterglow, and for a second, you think he might give you a reprieve.

But then he moves again—this time, slower, more deliberate. His fingers stroke along your inner thigh, coaxing, teasing. His breath is warm as he presses a kiss just above your knee, then another, trailing higher, the anticipation making your skin prickle.

"Spence—" you whimper, voice barely above a breath. "Sensitive."

He hums, and you can feel his smirk against your skin. "I know. That’s what makes it fun."

Then, without warning, his mouth is on you again, softer this time, but no less devastating. His tongue moves with careful precision, his fingers pressing deeper, curving just right. You writhe beneath him, overwhelmed, and when your hand weakly pushes at his head, he merely chuckles against you.

"That’s not our safeword, sweetheart."

You whimper, unable to do anything but surrender as he drags you to the edge again, slow and thorough, relentless in his devotion. The pressure builds again, unbearable, and when you finally shatter beneath him for the third time, he groans, swallowing every broken sound that spills from your lips.

You barely have time to recover before you feel him again—his hands smoothing over your trembling thighs, his breath hot against your skin as he whispers, "One more. Just one more."

You shake your head weakly, though your body betrays you, already arching into his touch. Your mind is hazy, barely clinging to the waking world, but Spencer? He’s focused, singular in his intent.

His mouth is on you again, lazy and indulgent, his tongue dragging slow, torturous circles that make your stomach tighten. His fingers press inside, stretching, teasing, working you open with practiced ease. You whimper, toes curling, every nerve alight.

"Almost there," he murmurs, voice frayed, breathless. "Come on, sweetheart. Give it to me."

Your release crashes over you like a tidal wave, pulling you under with no hope of resurfacing. Your body trembles, shuddering apart beneath him, and this time—even Spencer groans, his breath hitching as if he’s feeling it just as intensely as you are. His hands flex against your hips, tightening like he’s holding himself back, resisting the urge to take even more.

He presses one last, lingering kiss to your thigh before letting his head drop against you, exhaling a shaking breath.

Your vision wavers, the edges smudging into deep, inky black as the pleasure crests and breaks. The last thing you register is the warmth of Spencer’s mouth, the reverberation of his voice against your skin—low, coaxing, reverent.

Then, everything fades.

You resurface gradually—like wading through molasses, every inch of you weighted, sore in the most indulgent, well-earned way. The sheets are a tangled wreck around you, clinging to your overheated skin, undeniable evidence of everything Spencer just did to you. Your limbs are useless, your thoughts thick and sluggish, your body still humming with the aftershocks of him.

And yet.

Spencer is already awake.

“It’s 6:37 AM,” he announces smugly, from somewhere near the foot of the bed. “In case you were wondering.”

You groan, throwing an arm over your face. “Oh my God.”

“No, just Spencer,” he corrects, voice warm and teasing. “But I appreciate the enthusiasm.”

When you manage to blink your eyes open, the sight that greets you almost makes you laugh—if you had the energy. Spencer stands there, utterly unbothered, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers covered in tiny owls. His curls are a disaster, sticking up wildly, and his lips are still pink from pressing them against every inch of your body.

He looks entirely too pleased with himself.

“Are you—” You swallow, voice hoarse. “Are you gloating?”

Spencer tilts his head, considering. “I’d say it’s more of a… reasonable acknowledgment of my achievements.”

You make a weak sound of protest. He grins.

The mattress shifts as he crawls back toward you, his hands finding your waist with practiced ease. He presses a slow, deliberate kiss to your shoulder—sweet, affectionate, in direct contrast to the way he ruined you not even thirty minutes ago.

Then, with an absolutely insufferable level of satisfaction, he murmurs, “Four times.”

You let out a wheezy breath, still not recovered enough to fight him on this. “I know, Spencer.”

He hums, trailing his lips up the side of your neck. “Just making sure it’s fully processed.”

You blindly shove at his shoulder, but it’s weak. He barely moves.

Instead, he settles beside you, tucking you against his chest, fingers idly stroking along your spine. He’s quiet for a moment—until he glances at the clock. And then, you see it. The exact moment he realizes his mistake.

His smirk flickers.

A pause. Then, lightly:

“I may have miscalculated.”

You snort. “You think?”

Spencer lets out a thoughtful hum, completely unrepentant as he presses a soft, lazy kiss to your forehead. “In my defense, I failed to account for… the lingering effects.” He shifts, his fingers tracing slow, absentminded patterns against your skin. “Or my own overwhelming enthusiasm.”

You lift your arm just enough to glare at him. “You have work in an hour.”

He nods solemnly. “I’m aware.”

“I have work in two.”

Another nod. “Yes.”

“You owe me.”

Something flickers in his expression—thoughtful, determined. Then, without a word, he slips out of bed.

You frown. “Spencer?”

“Fixing it,” he calls, already halfway to the kitchen.

A few minutes later, he returns with a steaming cup of your favorite coffee and a plate with a perfectly toasted bagel. He sets them on the nightstand with the precision of a man delivering an official peace offering before climbing back into bed and wrapping himself around you again.

You eye him suspiciously. “This is your plan?”

He hums, pressing a kiss to your hair. “It’s called positive reinforcement.”

You sigh, taking a sip. It’s perfect. Of course, it is.

“You’re still in trouble,” you mumble, though the warmth of his body and the way he’s lazily stroking your back suggest otherwise.

Spencer just grins against your skin, utterly unbothered. “That’s fair.” A beat of silence. Then, far too pleased with himself, he murmurs, “But just so you’re aware… I already have a plan for making it up to you.”

You groan. Spencer just tucks you closer, and you don’t even have the energy to argue.

Then, after a moment of quiet, his voice comes soft and smug against your ear:

“You know, I am a giver.”

You huff a laugh, exhausted and hopelessly fond. “Shut up, Spencer.”

But all he does is press another kiss to your temple, grinning against your skin.

[kadoodles-on-ao3]

Hello!! I took a longer break than I thought I would but now I'm back! :)

I hope to finally sit down and take the dang gpose pictures for my FFXIV crossover so I can share it all soon! For those who'd like to cosplay the squad in-game I'll be putting the glam lists (and any alt options for stuff that's lower level, non-mogstation, class neutral, etc) on Eorzea Collection, but if you're more interested in just looking at what I made and/or the crossover aspect like "ooh what ff jobs would they be??? if they actually did a crossover what races from 14 would they make them???", more pics with better outfits as well as my crossover-job writeups will be here on my blog (along with links to my Eorzea Collection posts)!

Also if you do play 14... I may have went ahead and made a couple alts based on the above and may have even made some text macros to type in chat voice line quotes from XC 1 during dungeons to make it like you're actually fighting alongside Shulk or Melia :) (and Egil too but he doesn't talk he grumpy... and has very few voice lines to work with in comparison lol). And you may also send me asks to meet up with either of them and talk to them and/or do dungeons/raids with them if you want! They are very baby, level/msq-wise, rn because I don't have much time to play them (and I'm nervous to rp at all least of all mid-dungeon lmao) but they exist!!! Shulk and Melia and Egil real omg

Completely unrelated to anything I've talked about ever at all whatsoever but my bf and I have been doing a Godzilla movie marathon the past month or so and (aside from them being very very fun to watch and I recommend you watch them if you're interested) I actually have a lot of thoughts about each one and the series as a whole, so I might post my reviews of them on here too! And perhaps make a tier list ranking them since that's what the kids are doing right? They still make those? (Also I think the number system we use for rating everything nowadays isn't super informative in terms of telling an audience if something is worth experiencing or not, lots of bad movies and games are fun because they're 3/10s, so instead of that I have little categories like "how often are the fights silly because you can really tell it's just guys in suits" or "does this film or does it not have a comic relief side character who is obsessed with one (1) singular thing in every scene and is genuinely really hilarious because that is a Thing a lot the Godzilla movies have for some reason and I love it so much" or "how much does this film tie into the original allegory/moral of the atomic bombings on Japan or is it just 'big monsters cool'", so depending on what you're wanting to get out of these movies you can tell which ones you'd want to see. As well as an overall "do I recommend you watch this movie" rating haha)

[charlotteking27]

Please stand up if Bruce Wayne was forced to marry the reader and then one day discovered that she was a superhero like him

The Hero's Bride

Bruce Wayne x reader

Summary: You are the daughter of a wealthy businessman forced into a marriage with the prince of Gotham, Bruce Wayne. But secrets within your marriage start unfolding.

Warnings: Sorry, it is not as long as my usual fanfics

It was a field day for the tabloids as Bruce Wayne, their prominent bachelor prince, was getting married to the daughter of a wealthy businessman. 

The newspaper reported on the events of the power couple, with your picture and Bruce Wayne's featured prominently in the middle of it all. The headline 'our playboy billionaire finally settling down'

The crystal chandeliers of Wayne Manor cast dancing shadows across the marble floors as Bruce Wayne adjusted his tie for the thousandth time. Another charity gala, another performance of the billionaire playboy. Except tonight was different. Tonight, he was meeting his future wife.

"The arrangements have been made, Master Wayne," Alfred said, his voice carrying its usual mix of concern and dry wit. "Though I must say, agreeing to an arranged marriage seems rather... medieval, even for Gotham's standards."

Bruce's jaw tightened. "The Wayne Foundation's reputation is everything, Alfred. After that disaster with the Gotham Gazette's exposé on my... nocturnal activities, the board thinks a stable relationship might help." He didn't mention how those 'nocturnal activities' involved more timely distractions to uphold his secret.

________________________________________________________

You stood in an elegant emerald evening gown, waiting anxiously to leave and get home, but tonight was different. Tonight, you are meeting your future husband.

The arrangement had come as a surprise. Your father, CEO of one of Gotham's largest tech companies, had presented it as a "mutually beneficial partnership." Bruce Wayne needed to stabilize his public image, and your family needed stronger ties to old-money Gotham. You'd agreed, if only because it provided the perfect cover for your nighttime activities.

Wayne Manor looms before you, gothic architecture stretching toward the clouded sky. Your driver opens the car door, and you step out, automatically scanning the perimeter – old habits die hard. The massive wooden doors swing open to reveal Alfred Pennyworth, Wayne's butler, and behind him, Bruce Wayne himself.

He's more imposing in person than in photos. Tall, broad-shouldered, with sharp eyes that seem to catch every detail. Including, you notice, the way you've already mapped every exit in the room. Interesting.

"Miss," he says, extending his hand. "Welcome to Wayne Manor."

"Mr. Wayne." Your grip is firm and professional. You notice a faint bruise near his collar, poorly concealed by makeup. Curious. Several things ran through your mind, the obvious one: how much of a playboy Mr. Wayne really was.

The weeks before the wedding pass in a whirlwind of public appearances and private arrangements. Attending numerous galas and other events to show the public the perfect couple.

You find ways to maintain your secret life – slipping out at night, patrolling the streets of Gotham in your specialized suit, complete with built-in stealth tech of your own design. If Bruce notices your occasional limps or mysterious absences, he doesn't mention them. Then again, he has his own habit of disappearing at odd hours.

The wedding is a spectacle worthy of Gotham's elite. You play your part perfectly – the accomplished businesswoman, the perfect bride. No one notices how you scan the crowd for threats, or how your bouquet hides reinforced knuckles that could crack concrete.

Life at Wayne Manor settles into an odd rhythm. You and Bruce orbit each other like binary stars, together but separate. You respect each other's privacy, never questioning the mysterious phone calls or unexplained injuries. During the day, you attend board meetings and charity galas. At night, you slip away to protect the city in your own way.

"Late night?" Bruce asked one morning, not looking up from his newspaper as you slipped into the breakfast room at 6 AM, still in yesterday's clothes.

"Charity gala planning committee," you lied smoothly, hiding your limp. The drug cartel you'd busted hadn't gone down without a fight. "You?"

"Board meeting in Tokyo." His tie was perfectly straight, but you spotted foundation covering a fresh cut along his jaw.

They were good lies, practiced lies. The kind that came with years of maintaining double lives.

It's during your fourth month of marriage that everything changes. You're tracking a human trafficking ring through the warehouse district, your suit's electric blue accents dimmed for stealth. The intel suggests Batman might be investigating the same case, but you've always managed to avoid him before.

Not tonight.

You kept your operations separate from Batman's territory, focusing on Gotham's tech-driven criminal underground. You had history there – scores to settle with your father's former partners who'd turned your family's Technologies' innovations into weapons.

But Gotham had a way of bringing its heroes together, whether they wanted it or not.

You'd avoided Batman for months, but now, crouched in the shadows watching him work, something felt familiar about his movements. The way he disabled the security system matched a technique you'd glimpsed Bruce using on their home's alarm panel.

The second you closed your eyes and reopened them, he was gone in the dark.

You sense his presence before you see him – a darker shadow among shadows. You turn to flee, but he's faster than expected. A grappling hook wraps around your ankle. You counter with a move learned in the mountains of Nepal, breaking free and landing in a defensive stance.

That's when you see his face in the moonlight, cowl knocked loose in the scuffle. The realization hit you like a thunderbolt

"Bruce?"

He stares at you, equally shocked. "You're the mystery vigilante?"

For a moment, neither of you moves. Then you start laughing, the sound echoing off the warehouse walls. "So this is why you're never around for midnight snacks."

"Me? You're the one who keeps claiming yoga classes run late." His voice carries a hint of admiration. "The tech industry's break-in last month – that was you?"

"Had to destroy some evidence of illegal weapons manufacturing. My father's old partners aren't as clean as they pretend to be." You step closer, studying his suit. "I always wondered how Batman got his tech. Wayne Enterprises explains a lot."

"How long have you known?" he asked, removing his cowl.

"About thirty minutes." She deactivated her mask, letting it dissolve into her suit's collar. "You?"

"I suspected something when you took down that smuggling ring last month. The tech they were using came from one of your family's Technologies' old subsidiaries."

"Cleaning up family messes." She shrugged. "Sound familiar?"

His laugh was unexpected – rich and genuine in a way she'd never heard from Bruce Wayne, socialite. "Alfred is going to love this."

"Alfred already knows," she said. At his surprised look, she added, "He's been leaving medical supplies in my bathroom for weeks. That man sees everything."

"The two-year gap in your resume," he says. "Training?"

"League of Shadows. Left when I realized what they really were." You notice his slight flinch. "But you already knew about them, didn't you?"

He nods slowly. "We have... history."

"Well," you say, smiling at your lips, "I suppose this makes our arranged marriage more interesting."

"It certainly explains a few things." He pauses, then adds, "Your father doesn't know?"

"About as much as your board knows about your nighttime activities." You activate your mask in place.

"So." Bruce stepped closer, studying you with new interest. "What happens now?"

You smiled, already seeing possibilities unfold. "Now we stop pretending our marriage is just for show. Between your resources and my tech, we could do more good together than apart."

"The press will notice if Batman and the new vigilante start working together simultaneously, you and I become inseparable."

"Let them talk." You activated your suit's systems, preparing to leave. "Besides, every good marriage needs a hobby. Speaking of which, I've got some traffickers to catch. Care to join me?"

The smile he gives you is genuine – perhaps the first real one you've seen from him. "Lead the way."

As you swing across Gotham's skyline together, you realize that this arranged marriage might be the best thing that ever happened to you. Not because it saved Bruce Wayne's reputation or strengthened your family's social standing, but because it gave you something you never knew you needed: a partner who understands both sides of your double life.

Later that night, as you both tend to your wounds in the newly revealed Batcave, Bruce looks at you with newfound respect. "You know," he says, "most people marry for love or money. We married for public relations and ended up with a crime-fighting partnership."

You laugh, wincing as Alfred patches up your shoulder. "Well, they do say marriage is full of surprises."

The next morning, headlines screamed about Batman and the new vigilante team-up against a human trafficking operation. But it was the society pages that really got people talking, with photos of Bruce and you sharing a surprisingly passionate kiss at a charity gala.

The papers call you Gotham's power couple, the perfect merger of old money and new innovation. If they only knew the half of it. By day, you run your companies and attend charity galas. By night, you protect the city together, two vigilantes moving in perfect sync.

And if the criminals of Gotham complain that Batman's gotten twice as effective lately with improved tech? Well, that's just one of the many perks of married life.

[cobbled-peach]

˗ˏˋ જ⁀➴ The JJ Issue

when Spencer has to work late on a case with JJ, you find yourself spiralling with jealousy. And now, you're determined to make him remember exactly what he's been missing.

cw: 18+ Spencer reid x jealous!fem!reader. NSFW content. Mildly insecure reader, explicit language, alcohol use, mentions of masturbation, heavy making out, slightly toxic relationship and emotional manipulation if you really really look a/n: so this was a request, but I'm technologically inept and deleted it when trying to copy it to my word doc. ANYWAY, I feel like I veered slightly off topic, but I present my take on jealous!reader and some dumb bitch-ish Spencer™ for you mwah mwah please feel free to send in more requests i am happy to take whatever!!! wc: 3k

The clock flicks to 11:00 PM.

You watch the numbers change with quiet contempt, the harsh glow of the display slicing through the darkness. The sheets beside you remain cold and untouched. Empty. Too still and too silent.

Still no Spencer.

It’s the third night this week. The third night of cold pillows and even colder silence. The third night of laying in a bed made for two and wondering if your boyfriend was going to crawl in before the sun came up – or if he’d even bother returning home at all. 

He’d been busier at work in the past month, his absence only being amplified by the newest case.

You’d tried to follow along when he explained it. Something about Montclair, Virginia. Weird geographical patterns, overlapping jurisdictions, unusual victims. Apparently, it was the kind of bureaucratic mess that kept the BAU tangled in an endless supply of paperwork.

But all you’d really heard – what had stuck and started looping in your head – was JJ.

JJ.

JJ and Spencer. Working late nights in close quarters.

Beautiful, capable JJ. With her glossy hair and understanding eyes. Who could read a room in seconds and had helped Spencer through numerous cases. JJ, who had history with him. Real, lived-in history. She probably understood the way his brain worked in ways you hadn’t even discovered yet.

JJ. Who had the privilege of seeing him more often than you did lately, while you were stuck eating leftovers and watching the clock tick toward midnight.

You tried not to be the jealous girlfriend.

Tried so hard.

But it’s easier said than done when you’re alone in a dark apartment, with your texts left on read since 12:23 PM.

You can picture it too clearly – Spencer and JJ tucked away in some dim conference room, heads bowed over maps and files, shoulders brushing. JJ laughing softly. Spencer glancing up from his notes with that boyish smile that he reserves for only his favorite people. A room of shared trauma and comfort, of inside jokes and a history you can’t compete with.

You hate how vivid the image is. 

You hate how much it turns your stomach even more.

Your fingers curl around your phone, thumb hovering for a beat before you start to type:

Any idea when you’ll be home? x

You stare. Waiting.

The dot-dot-dot appears almost instantly. He’s always fast, when he can be.

No, this case is a mess. JJ and I are still trying to determine the geographical patterning. I’ll be home when I can.

That’s it.

That’s it?

No “I miss you.” No “Sorry for the late night.” No acknowledgement that its eleven-fucking-o’clock and you’re still alone, curled up in his shirt, half-hoping for the sound of him returning to break you out of this fog. Just plain, clipped Spencer-speak. Cold. Factual. Like he’s updating Hotch, not the person who shares his bed.

“JJ and I.”

Of course.

Your jaw tenses and you type again:

Should I leave the door unlocked, or is your work wife walking you home tonight?

No response. Probably back to his files. Or worse – laughing with her about something brilliant he said. You picture her touching his arm. Picture him not pulling away.

Two minutes pass, and you try again:

Let me know if she likes it when you quote Voltaire.

Maybe she even moans when you pull out statistics too.

Still nothing.

You throw your phone to the end of the bed with a dull thud, resisting the urge to follow it with your wine glass. You’re not drunk – not quite – but your veins are warm and the wine bottle is getting low. Almost as low as your patience.

You sigh, dragging a hand down your face.

It’s not that your insecure.

But it’s been a long week. And you’re tired. And lonely. And a little more than marginally horny.

And all that serves to make a deadly combination.

You glance at the wine bottle on your nightstand, dragged in here from when the living room started to feel too big. Half-empty now, or maybe half-full, but you don't feel like looking on the bright side today. Your fingers wrap around the stem of the glass like a lifeline, and you take a slow sip.

The taste of sour grapefruit and poor decisions.

It doesn’t take long for you to start wondering things you shouldn’t be wondering.

Like if JJ’s ever seen Spencer shirtless, skin flushed from an adrenaline-fueled takedown. Like if she notices the way his lashes flutter when he gets focused, and the subtle tick in his jaw when he’s trying to hold back a dirty comment. Like if she’s ever heard the quiet, shaky sound he makes when you touch him just right – a sound you haven’t heard in what feels like forever.

You huff, irritated with yourself.

This is not the kind of spiral you want to be in.

But how are you supposed to feel okay when the man you love has spent more nights with someone else this week than with you?

Someone brilliant and bright and right beside him.

Your mind drifts – dangerously, again – to what he might be doing if he was here. What you wish he was doing. Your hand plays absently with the hem of his shirt, sliding a little higher up your thigh, feeling the fabric brush over bare skin. Skin and air and silence.

You wonder if he’d even notice you were awake if he walked in right now.

Or if he’d still be thinking about JJ and her smiles.

Your stomach twists again.

You set the wine glass down, staring into the dark, heat curling beneath your skin like a storm on the verge of breaking.

You’re not proud of the jealousy. Or the spite. But tonight?

You’re not sure you care.

It’s 1:00 AM when you hear the door open.

You’ve migrated back to the couch now. Curled up like a forgotten thing in the quiet throb of the living room. A blanket is pulled tight around your shoulders, forging a cocoon of spite and cheap Sauvignon Blanc. The bottle on the coffee table is empty. There’s half a glass still in your hand, warmed by your palm. Your fingers are molded around the stem like its something keeping you grounded.

The door shuts gently.

Spencer enters the apartment the way he always does when he knows it’s late. Softly. Cautiously. The guilt doesn’t show on is face right away, but seeps in to the little things. The way he trades his leather shoes for worn slippers like they might squeak loud enough to wake you up. The careful way he sets his keys down, not with the usual absentminded clatter, but softly, like he might disturb you.

You hear the rustle of his cardigan being shrugged off and flung over the back of a chair. He moves through the apartment with the measured care of someone navigating a crime scene. Almost like a ghost; present, but not where you need him to be.

The bedroom door creaks. A pause. Then a soft, confused hum, like he’s surprised the bed is cold and vacant. 

You don’t move.

His footsteps return, still soft and hesitant, and then the living room light clicks on. It’s not bright, just enough to paint his face in a warm gold shadow. When he sees you, wrapped up and still, his features settle somewhere between relief and worry.

‘There you are,’ he says gently. ‘I didn’t think you’d still be up.’

His voice is warm. Too warm. Like he’s dealing with a wounded animal, already prepared for a potential fallout.

You don’t answer right away. Just lift the glass and sip what’s left of the wine. It brought warmth before, but now just feels thin and useless as it settles in your stomach. A comfort that has already faded.

Spencer looks like he always does after a long day – exhausted. Shirt untucked and wrinkled at the collar. His hair is tousled like he’s raked his hands through it a dozen times. His lips are parted, already searching for the right apology.

‘I couldn’t sleep,’ you say. The words land flat and cold. Sharper than you intended, but not enough to make you regret it.

His brow furrows as he takes a tentative step forward. ‘Oh no. Are you okay?’

‘Oh, just peachy.’ You flash him a malicious smile and tilt your head. ‘How’s JJ?’

‘JJ?’ he repeats. ‘She’s… fine?’

‘I bet.’

You see it in him. The subtle shift. His brain starts ticking, trying to process the change in tone, piece together context clues. His hands twitch slightly at his sides. You’ve seen it before, when he’s dealt with a particularly messy profile. It’s how he acts when trying to decode erratic behavior.

But this time, you’re the chaos.

‘What’s going on?’ he asks, slower this time. Careful.

You finally meet his eyes, steady and level. ‘You’ve spent more time with her this week than you have with me.’

He exhales and crosses his arms. Not intentionally defensive, but it comes across that way. Just the subtle shift of someone bracin against a growing storm.

‘Me and JJ? We’re working the same case,’ he offers. Not patronising, just explaining. ‘That’s how assignments work.’

A rational answer. Reasonable. Sensible. And completely useless to the part of you that’s been sitting in silence every night, nursing bitterness like it’s a glass of wine.

‘That’s not what I said,’ you reply.

You toss off the blanket and stand, wanting to be level with him.

His gaze drops, almost instinctively, to your bare thighs peeking out from beneath his shirt. Snaps it back to your face instantly. Like he caught himself doing something inappropriate, even if it wasn’t.

‘She get’s your attention,’ you say softly. ‘Your thoughts. Your little facts. Your laughter. Your time.’

His mouth opens, but no words come out.

You keep going. Getting closer enough to feel the warmth radiating from his body. 

‘And I get cold sheets and texts left on delivered.’

‘I didn’t mean to ignore you–’

‘She gets to share your space. Share your mind. Is that what gets you off now? Criminal profiling and shared trauma? Is that your kink, Doctor?’

His cheeks go red immediately.

‘She’s married,’ he points out, like that’ll resolve the tension.

‘Married women flirt too, Spencer.’

He’s still red, sputtering slightly now. ‘I don’t—I don’t think of JJ like that. I never have.’

‘Do you think of me like that?’ you challenge. ‘Or have I been bumped down your priority list below paperwork and tactical briefings? Do I need to start talking about blood spatter patterns during foreplay? Or maybe I need to join the FBI just so you’ll remember me.’

He swallows visibly, jaw tightening. ‘That’s not fair.’

‘No,’ you snap. ‘What’s not fair is me touching myself alone in our bed to the sound of your voice in some old Quantico press briefing because it’s the only version of you I could get this week.’

His eyes widen slightly. His breath catches. 

‘I think about you constantly,’ he says, almost desperate. 

You scoff. ‘Sure. Right after filing case summaries.’

‘No,’ he says, firmer now. ‘I do think about you. I just—I hyperfocus. And when I hyperfocus, my brain sort of queues everything else. It’s not about priority or importance. It’s about sequence. You’re just… waiting in line.’

‘Great,’ you say flatly. ‘I’m a fucking deli number.’

He winces. ‘That came out wrong.’

You look at him, taking a breath. Run a hand through your hair.

‘Do you think I’m crazy?’

‘No,’ he says quickly. ‘I think you’re angry and hurt. And I think you’re trying to make me angry and hurt too. Like earlier, your messages were mean. That’s why I ignored them... Now, you’re just sort of scaring me.’

That stops you. Not because you’re insulted, but because he looks genuinely lost. Innocent.

‘I’m not trying to scare you,’ you say quietly. You deflate slightly, some of the heat leaving your voice. ‘I’m just… trying to remind you that I’m still here. Wanting you. Waiting for you.’

There’s a silence.

Then–

‘I didn’t realise it was this bad. I thought you just wanted some space.'

You nod. Not spitefully, just confirming the truth.

‘Do you even remember what it was like?’ you ask. ‘When you used to come home and fuck me like you were starving. Like you couldn’t stand being apart from me. Like the space between us physically hurt you.’

He doesn’t answer. But you see the recognition in the way his jaw ticks, the way his hands clench at his sides. 

‘I miss that,’ you say. ‘I miss you.’

That look returns to his face, unsure if this is a test. If you’re being serious. If you’re going to snap at him for misreading your cues.

So you lean in – slow – until your lips are just inches from his. ‘You say you think about me constantly… prove it.’

He hesitates. Blinks. ‘You mean like—right now?’

‘Preferably in a way that makes me forget I’m mad.’

He pauses. ‘...Sexually?’

‘That would be ideal.’

He clears his throat. ‘I just want to make sure. Because sometimes when you’re upset, you use sarcasm to—’

You lift your hand, cutting him off. ‘No sarcasm now, Doctor.’

He shifts his weight, brows still drawn a little.

‘Right, okay.’ Another pause. ‘So, just to clarify – you’re asking me to have sex with you. Now. Because you want to stop being angry. Or is the sex part of the anger expression?’

You stare at him.

He continues. 

‘Because if you’re just using me to release emotional frustrations, that’s fine, I want to have sex with you, but I’d just like to know in advance so I can—’

You step in and kiss him. 

Not sweetly or softly. 

It’s the kind of kiss used to shut him up. Open mouthed and hard, tongue sweeping across his lower lip before he’s even realised your lips are touching his. For a moment, he’s caught between instinct and hesitation. Trying to figure out if this is you just getting back at him.

Then you feel him give in. His hands grip your waist, grounding himself, allowing his mouth to move with yours in a way that’s messy and uncoordinated – like he’s catching up with weeks of missed makeout sessions.

When you finally pull back, his pupils are blown wide, his lips flushed and slightly parted.

‘I’m not asking you to give me a therapeutic exercise,’ you state. ‘I’m asking you to stop thinking and touch me.’

He nods, too quickly. ‘Right. Touching… now?’

‘No. In another three days,’ you say sarcastically, grabbing his hand and sliding it beneath the hem of your shirt – his shirt – until his fingers are splayed across your ribs. 

His palm is warm. Touch a little tentative.

‘Do you even remember what touching me feels like?’ you ask, breath brushing against his cheek.

Spencer exhales sharply, the memory hitting him and punching the breath from his lungs.

‘I think about it all the time,’ he whispers.

‘Then why are you still just standing there like this is a goddamn team-building exercise?’

He snaps into focus. ‘I’m sorry. You’re just—when you’re mad, and basically half-naked, it’s hard to follow all the emotional subtext and my working memory has lost it’s buffer—’

You roll your eyes, pushing him backward until his knees hit the couch. He drops onto the cushions with a surprised noise. Part yelp, part breathless laugh.

His hands instinctively settle on your thighs as you straddle him. He stares up at you like he can’t believe this is happening. Like he doesn’t deserve for it to be happening.

You place your palm on his shoulder, playing with the soft cotton of his shirt.

‘Spencer.’

‘Yes?’

‘Please stop thinking.’

‘I’m trying.’

‘Try harder.’

You lean down and kiss him again. Slower, this time. Deeper. He responds instantly now, hands sliding to your waist, then up your back, holding you close to him. His mouth moves with less hesitation, more purpose.

‘I missed you,’ he murmurs between kisses. ‘Missed you so much. I’m sorry—I didn’t know what to say without it sounding like I was making excuses before.’

You shift your hips against him, just enough to feel him getting harder beneath you. 

‘I don’t want an apology,’ you say.

‘You don’t?’

‘No.’ You grind down again, a little harder. ‘I want you to make it up to me.’

He moans softly, head tipping back against the couch cushions. He nods in understanding, taking a moment to catch his breath before pressing his lips to your jaw, trailing them down to your throat, feeling your pulse fluttering beneath his tongue.

‘You’re so…’ he pauses for another kiss to your skin. ‘I mean, you always look good, but—God, you’re so, so pretty. I missed you.’

His fingers dig into your hips, and then his mouth is back on yours, rougher now. He’s kissing to make up for all the nights you went to bed alone, all the hours he spent at work while you touched yourself to a crackly echo of his voice. 

His hands slide up beneath your shirt again. Tracing your skin. He gets to your breasts, and gasps softly, like he’s surprised.

‘You’re not wearing anything under this.’

You roll your eyes at his astute observation.

‘You want to keep narrating?’ you ask, a little breathless. ‘Or do you want to do something about it?’

‘Doing something. Yes.’

He lifts the shirt off your body. Slow and tentative, like you’re something delicate. It’s a sight he’s seen numerous times before, bit his eyes still go wide as he takes you in. For a moment, he doesn’t move. Just stares.

‘Jesus, Spence,’ you say, nudging his shoulder, getting impatient.

‘Sorry. You’re just gorgeous. And naked. And still angry. And you—’ he pauses, runs his hand up your ribs again. ‘—feel like something I shouldn’t be able to touch.’

‘Well I’m letting you touch me.’

You grab his wrist, guiding your hand to press between your legs. He sucks in a breath, still looking up at your face.

‘This is how mad I was,’ you whisper.

His brain seems to short-circuit again. ‘I have… no response to that.’

You push your hips down against his hands. 

‘Then shut up, and make me come.’

a/n: i ummed and ahhed about putting an aftermath scene but decided not to because I lowkey like 'em toxic >:) We also do NOT hate JJ in this house, she was just convienient. I also (can you tell I like to yap?) don't know what era of Spencer Reid I pictured for this. Somewhere in the earlier seasons, maybe? But idk. You choose. I have a taglist now! Please comment if you want to be added, or go to this post here. I've decided not to put tags on my 18+ fics, just as I don't want any minor interactions with them Also, to the person who requested this: if it did not align with your request I'm so sorry and I can do if you really really want xxxx

[xinganhao]

cherry on top 🍒 mafia boss!seungcheol x reader. (4)

stories like this always end with a damsel in distress. except—this time around—you’re not the one who needs saving. previous chapter + masterlist.

📄 Minutes of strategic information meeting, filed by Kim Mingyu (Mafia Soldier, Logistics & Recon)

Date: ██████████ Location: Safehouse Omega-9, Undisclosed City Perimeter Time: 03:17 HRS

ATTENDEES:

Yoon Jeonghan (Underboss)

Lee Chan (Combat Unit Leader)

Chwe Hansol (Surveillance Division)

Kim Mingyu (Logistics & Recon; Recording Officer)

Civilian Target [REDACTED] (Unauthorized Attendee)

AGENDA:

Contingency Plan for Retrieval of Boss (S.Coups)

Chain of Command During Absence

External Threat Assessment

[BEGIN TRANSCRIPT]

JEONGHAN: We go in through the east dock. Two snipers posted by 03:40. Chan leads breach. Hansol, your eyes stay on thermal—no improvisation this time.

HANSOL: I never improvise. My brilliance is structured.

CHAN: Can we not do this right now?

JEONGHAN: [ignoring them] Mingyu, once we get him out, you're on evac. Full blackout route. No trackers, no chatter.

MINGYU: Copy.

HANSOL: Any updates on who turned? Someone had to leak coordinates.

CHAN: There’s a list. We’ll handle it after we bring the boss home. One fire at a time.

[DOOR SLAMS OPEN. SOUND OF HIGH-HEELED FOOTSTEPS. SILENCE.]

CIVILIAN TARGET: You’re planning this without me?

JEONGHAN: [visibly tense] You weren’t invited.

CIVILIAN TARGET: He’s my belo—my boyfriend, Jeonghan. You think I’m just going to sit around while you play war games?

JEONGHAN: This isn’t a movie. You’re a civilian. You don’t belong in this room.

CIVILIAN TARGET: No, I’m the reason he still believes in soft things. I belong more than half the people at this table.

CHAN: She’s got a point.

JEONGHAN: Chan.

CHAN: I’m just saying. She’s not exactly fragile.

HANSOL: She did rewire one of my bugs with a paperclip. That was... not unimpressive.

JEONGHAN: [sighs] This isn’t about guts. It’s about blood.

CIVILIAN TARGET: Then you should know mine’s already on the line. Every second he’s gone, I feel it. And I’m done being sidelined. I’m not here to ask. I’m here to help.

[BEAT OF SILENCE. THEN—]

JEONGHAN: You get one job. And if you screw it up, I’ll personally drag you out.

CIVILIAN TARGET: Deal.

JEONGHAN: Hansol, give her the map. Mingyu, loop her in.

MINGYU: You’re going to need a comm. And a bulletproof vest.

CIVILIAN TARGET: Got both. And a knife in my boot.

CHAN: Okay, badass.

[MEETING CONTINUED UNDER LEVEL-2 SECRECY PROTOCOLS. TRANSCRIPT REDACTED. END OF MINUTES.]

FINAL NOTES:

Civilian Target formally added to Operation Homecoming roster.

Jeonghan authorized conditional field involvement.

Morale status: heightened.

Risk level: astronomically high.

🗂️ Operation Homecoming: Field Notes & Briefing Report, compiled by mafia underboss, Yoon Jeonghan

Clearance Level: Top Confidential Date Logged: ██████████ Location: Safehouse Omega-9

SUMMARY: Boss (S.Coups) was captured 48 hours ago following the receipt of a falsified emergency ping traced back to the civilian target’s encoded channel. The ping claimed she’d been injured and was en route to an undisclosed hospital in Sector D. According to surveillance logs, the Boss diverted course alone, abandoning standard security protocol. We believe he was intentionally isolated through signal jamming, then intercepted at the underpass beneath Route 14.

AUTOPSY OF THE TRAP:

Fake GPS tag mimicked civilian target’s bio-signal pattern

Voice distortion software replicated her distress call

EMP deployed upon vehicle arrival to disable tracking

Tactical unit waited with sedation-grade rounds

CURRENT LOCATION OF BOSS: Confirmed. Underground storage facility, formerly Syndicate-aligned. Defected cell now controls the zone. Reinforcements on site. Boss presumed alive—last thermal footage confirms faint movement.

INTERVENTION STRATEGY: OPERATION HOMECOMING

Phase One – Extraction:

Entry through east dock (03:40 HRS)

Chan leads breach unit, Hansol on thermal, Mingyu handling evac

All units silent channel only

Phase Two – Internal Sweep:

Civilian target assigned distraction and misdirection role (see below)

Two-minute window to locate and stabilize Boss

Phase Three – Extraction + Fade:

Mingyu initiates blackout route

Decoys deployed on west perimeter to delay pursuit

Rendezvous at Site Echo

CIVILIAN TARGET: PERFORMANCE LOG

Arrived wearing borrowed Kevlar and jeans tucked into combat boots. Asked if bulletproof vests same in women’s sizes. Did not wait for response.

Showed immediate enthusiasm, zero tactical finesse. Hansol gave her the map. She held it upside down. Twice.

Informed her she’d be working as the visual diversion. Her response: “Like bait?” Followed by: “Cool. I’m good at being annoying.”

Surprisingly effective. Created a loud enough ruckus on the perimeter to draw three guards off their posts. Managed to bluff her way past checkpoint by pretending to be a lost food delivery driver. Claimed she had gluten-free soba for a man named Kevin. There is no Kevin.

Still not sure how she pulled it off.

When Boss was found, he was semi-conscious but breathing. Whispered her name first.

END STATUS:

Boss retrieved.

Minimal casualties (1 injured – not fatal)

Facility compromised but not traced

Civilian target cried in the van. Then threatened to punch me for writing that down. I'm writing it down anyway.

FOOTNOTE — for Seungcheol’s eyes only: You’re reckless, stubborn, and impossible to reason with. But apparently, that’s your thing. You’re also luckier than most of us ever will be.

She didn’t sleep. Not once. Kept looking at every door like you might walk through it.

When you did, she didn’t even say anything. Just threw her arms around you like gravity stopped working.

Try not to make her go through that again.

– YJH

📱 Phone history log, filed by mafia soldier Chwe Hansol

Device: S.Coups' Personal Line (Encrypted Channel #017) Status: Outgoing Messages Only – Blocked by Signal Jammer Timestamp Range: ██:██–██:██ (Time of Abduction)

NOTE: Texts never reached intended recipient. Recovered during post-mission diagnostics. For archival purposes.

[01:12 AM] Where are you? They said you were hurt. I'm on my way.

[01:15 AM] Which hospital? No one's answering. This isn't funny. Call me.

[01:17 AM] Your signal keeps bouncing. Something's wrong. Stay where you are.

[01:21 AM] I swear to god if they laid a hand on you

[01:24 AM] No ambulance ever came.

[01:25 AM] This is a setup.

[01:27 AM] I'm so stupid. They used you. Fuck fuck fuck

[01:28 AM] I should've followed protocol. Should’ve sent Mingyu. Should’ve sent anyone but me.

[01:30 AM] If you get this, lock all the windows. Call Jeonghan. Stay put.

[01:34 AM] They knew I’d come for you.

[01:36 AM] This isn’t your fault.

[01:39 AM] Don’t come after me.

[01:41 AM] Love, beloved, please. Don’t try to save me.

[01:45 AM] You always do this—you throw yourself into fires you don't understand.

[01:49 AM] If they hurt you because of me, I’ll never forgive myself.

[01:52 AM] Tell Jeonghan to burn everything. Get out. Go far.

[01:54 AM] Forget me if you have to. Just live.

[02:01 AM] I love you. Please, please, please, don’t be stupid.

[END OF RECOVERED LOG]

📰 Excerpt from "The Ethics of Mafias: Love in the Line of Fire", a follow-up think piece by Xu Minghao

... If leadership within organized crime is already an ethical minefield, then love within it is something more volatile still: a paradox of vulnerability embedded in violence. New whispers surround the figure known only as S.Coups—the alleged mafia boss whose name, until recently, conjured images of discipline, domination, and an empire forged in precision.

Now, another narrative has emerged. One that reshapes how we understand not just the man, but the very myth he embodies.

According to rumors sourced from both within and outside the organization, S.Coups may have a romantic partner. Not a fellow operative, nor a political alliance. But a civilian. Someone unaffiliated and—crucially—untouched by the bloodied logic of the underworld.

If this is true, the implications are vast.

To love in his position is a risk. It is weakness, some would say. Yet others might argue that such love is the only thing capable of keeping a man like him from becoming monstrous. If the rumors are accurate, she is the reason he looks over his shoulder less. The reason he checks his own wrath. The reason his most trusted lieutenants have stopped fearing him and started worrying about him.

Love, here, is not a diversion. It is discipline.

And perhaps that is the most fascinating ethical twist of all: that this boss, so often theorized as either tyrant or savior, might be both—because of her.

Some say he texts her between assassinations. That he buys her gummy bears because she mentioned liking them once, months ago. That he has started folding her laundry and learning her aunt’s dietary restrictions. These are, of course, unconfirmed. They seem almost laughably mundane. But within the shadowed world of syndicates and secret wars, what could be more radical than tenderness?

Others claim that he was taken. There are now verified reports of a failed abduction and his eventual rescue. She was allegedly involved. They say she showed up unarmed, untrained, and utterly unafraid. They say she demanded to be part of the rescue mission. They say she was reckless, infuriating, and ultimately, instrumental.

And that when he saw her again, he wept.

To be loved, it turns out, is not always soft. Sometimes, it is brutal and inelegant and wildly inconvenient. But in the context of a life built on violence, to be loved is to be saved. Again and again. In the ways that matter.

Whether S.Coups is worthy of that love is not the question. The question is whether it has already changed him. Whether, in the end, the girl outside the syndicate might be the only thing real in a world made of smoke and mirrors.

And whether that, more than power or fear, will be his lasting legacy.

Mafia boss S.Coups is many things. Protector, manipulator. Brother, enemy, friend.

It seems we must add two more things:

Lover, and loved.

FIN. THANK YOU FOR READING CHERRY ON TOP!

› scroll through all my work ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ my masterlist | @xinganhao

[andvys]

The edges of your soul (I haven't seen yet) ⭐︎ chapter twelve

⭐︎ You're a bandit like me. Eyes full of stars

Warnings: 18+, minors don't interact! hurt/comfort, grumpy x sunshine, post apocalypse au, mentions of death, mentions of killing, mentions of sex, alcohol consumption

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Word count: 15k

Author's note: Here it is friends! I've been so excited for this chapter (and I hope you will be too, this has some good stuff). I struggled so much writing this, I have no idea why, it's literally one of my favorite moments in this story so far! But here it is now, and I wouldn't have done it without @hellfire--cult , she wrote a good portion of this (aka all the fun stuff between Steve and Sunshine hehe) so please give her some love ♡

series masterlist ⭐︎ previous chapter

☀︎

“We can cut through Idaho, Colorado, or we can drive straight through Utah.” Eddie explains with his hand. His eyes are focused on the map before him, eyebrows furrowed and eyes concentrated. 

Steve is standing beside him with his arms crossed, nodding as he thinks of what road seems the best. 

“Wasn’t Colorado crawling with infected when the news was still airing?” Steve mumbles. 

“When was that, Steve?” Eddie shrugs at his friend. “A year or two back? The cold temperatures have either wiped out the infected or they have moved down south by now.” 

Steve nods his head, “yeah, you might be right. What do you think, Nance?” 

Nancy isn’t focusing on the map, she isn’t even listening to them. Her eyes are set on you. You are sitting on the steps of the RV, your head leaning against the door frame. You are staring into blank space, fiddling with the loose string on your flannel. 

Someone who doesn’t know you would think that you are just enjoying the sunlight kissing your face, but it’s not that; she wishes it was that. You are quiet, and you have been quiet for the past few days now since the attack. She understands it, but she is concerned about you, scared that you are losing yourself and that there is nothing she or the guys can do about it. 

Steve’s eyes follow, and his face only falls further. He has been trying to get through to you for days now but it’s like your mind stayed there. You don’t talk much, you barely eat, and your lips are in a permanent straight line. He knows you need time and that you aren’t gone completely because even with your mental absence and your silence, you still let him hold your hand, you still sleep in the same bed with him, you still let him hold you at nights – it became a regular thing, after that day especially. 

Steve needs you close, he needs to feel you in his arms, he needs to know you are there, or else he can’t breathe, he can’t sleep, he can’t function. You are on the same page and, without much debating, you settled on spending every night, every perimeter check, every run into towns together. He knows that he is now going against everything he promised to himself when he first met you, but he can’t help it, he can’t help the way he feels about you now, the way he needs you around. 

He misses your voice, even more so, he misses your laughter and your smile. 

“A few weeks, give or take, and we’re in Nevada. That is, if we don’t get into too much trouble on the road. I’m talking weather conditions, blocked roads, hoards of infected–”

“You just said they moved south.” Nancy frowns, not looking away from you just yet. “Now you are talking about… hoards?” She squints her eyes. 

“Probably, yeah. I think they moved south, but I can’t know for sure, Wheeler. There might be a hoard gathering somewhere – which we’ll deal with, no problem. There also might be more demo shit monsters out there which we had the luck of avoiding so far. We don’t know what kind of trouble we’ll run into the rest of the road. Maybe we’ll even have to lay low for a while,” Eddie exclaims, throwing his hands up. “The winters are brutal out here, we’re lucky if we don’t get snowed in.”

“We will get snowed in at some point. I was stuck in a cabin for two weeks last year, I almost starved and froze to death.” 

Your voice catches everyone by surprise. Eddie and Steve glance at one another before they look at you. You are still staring straight ahead. 

Your words make Steve’s heart ache in his chest, even more so when he thinks about how he treated you when he first met you. How awful he was to you, how much he wanted you to leave, push you out the gates where you would have been all alone again, fighting for survival on your own, fighting the kind of people you have killed for him. 

“It’s gonna take two months or more until we get there.”

“It doesn’t matter how long it will take, Sweetheart.” Eddie says softly. “What matters is that we’ll get there and we will. You’ll see your family again!” He tries to lift you up, to make you see the point in this trip again. 

You will see them again, yeah. 

But what will they think of you after what you have done? 

Eddie notices the way your shoulders tense at his words, the way you suck in a sharp breath, the way your eyebrows furrow as you stare at the ground now. You suddenly get up and move forward. 

“I’m gonna check for more supplies,” you murmur as you walk towards the gas station that Eddie and Nancy have already gathered supplies at. 

Steve follows you without a second thought. Eyes filled with concern and body tense just like yours, “Sunshine–”

“I need a second.” You mumble without looking back. “Just one second…” 

One second to yourself. 

Steve’s face is etched with pain. Sadness flashing across his features, twinkling in his eyes. He halts in his tracks, staring at you in deflation. He wants to follow you, knowing exactly what is troubling you. He so badly wants to take you into his arms and comfort you, but he can’t, not when you are like this. 

Both Eddie and Nancy take a look at him. Pity flashes in both their features, he doesn’t have to look at them to see it. He hates it, hates the way they can see right through him. 

“Steve–”

“It’s fine, Nancy.” Steve grumbles as he takes a few steps back again, he leans against the side of the RV and crosses his arms over his chest. 

She sighs and looks back down at the map before her. Giving you the space that you need, giving him the space as well. 

But Eddie stares at the door you have shut behind you, watching you through the dirty window as you mindlessly walk around the store. His jaw clenches, not in anger at you but in anger for how you feel about yourself. He sees the way you avoid mirrors, the way you stare at your hands for a little too long. He can practically feel the horror you feel towards yourself. 

“I’ll talk to her.” 

Steve pushes himself off the RV again, eyes widening as he watches Eddie stomp after you. 

“Eddie–”

But Eddie doesn’t listen, and he flips his hand up, telling him to stay there. He opens the door and walks inside, not bothering to look back. He closes the door softly, not wanting to startle you. 

He is careful not to step on any broken cans or boxes that fell from the shelves as he looks for you. He walks past the aisles, looking into every one for you. He furrows his eyebrows, wondering where you had disappeared to so quickly in the second he had looked away. 

He searches for a moment until the sound of shuffling lures him into what once used to be an office or a break room. He finds you there, standing in front of a table with your back turned to him. You are holding something in your hand, staring down at it. 

Eddie walks inside, clearing his throat so he doesn’t startle you. You don’t budge. You stand still. He takes a deep breath before he looks over your shoulder and his shoulders tense, a frown appears on his face. 

A mixture of sadness and anger creeps up inside of him. 

“Sweetheart,” he whispers as he steps even closer and takes the note from your hand. He glances down at it one more time. He skims over it a second time: ‘If you turn into a monster is it still you inside?’ Eddie crumbles it up and throws it on the ground. 

He doesn’t know whether to pull you into his arms or to scold you. 

He wants to do both. 

Eddie wraps his hand around your bicep and he turns you around, forcing you to face him. 

“Look at me.” 

You hesitate but look up at him after taking a deep breath. 

Eddie’s gaze softens when he sees the vulnerability in your eyes. His shoulders slump and he sighs. 

“Sweetheart,” he whispers as he moves his hand up to your shoulder. “Don’t even think about it, don’t let your mind go there. You are not a monster.” 

You don’t regret what you did, not in the slightest. You would do it again and again if it meant saving your friend, if it meant saving him. You would do anything for your friends. You would do anything to keep him safe. 

“I murdered them–” 

“Monsters. You killed monsters.” He gives you a pointed look, trying to get it through that thick head of yours. “Do you think that’s what we think of you now? That you are some kind of monster too?” 

Your silence answers his question. 

Eddie shakes his head wildly, gripping your shoulder tighter. 

“You did what you had to do, what we couldn’t do but don’t… don’t think for one second that I, that we wouldn’t do the same for you. I would have ripped those bastards apart one by one to save you, and I know that Steve would have done the same.” 

Your eyes soften at his words. You know he is telling the truth, the look in his eyes is so determined and truthful. 

“You saved him, you saved us. I don’t care how you did it, you could have fed them to the infected – hell, I would have helped you drag them to their dinner table. But stop being so hard on yourself, stop living in there,” he taps your forehead. “I know what that evil part of your brain is trying to tell you and I can promise you that it’s all bullshit, okay? You’re a fucking saviour, Sweets. You are fucking hero.”

The tension on your face disappears little by little. Your lips start curling up a bit. 

“You’re not a monster, we don’t think that about you, and your family won’t either. Hell, your brother will be proud to have such a powerhouse as a sister.” 

A smile tugs on the corner of your lip, and you can’t help but chuckle, “stop that now…” 

Eddie feels successful when your laughter fills the room again. He squeezes your shoulder, smiling at you. 

“It’s nothing but the truth. You’re strong, really fucking strong. This world hasn’t gotten to you in all that time you’ve been out there by yourself. Don’t let it get to you now, not over some pieces of shits who had it coming – god knows how many potential victims you have saved.”

You nod at his words. You know he is right. He is right about them, they deserved it, every single one of them. 

“I don’t regret what I did,” you shrug, “I just… I didn’t know that I could turn into this.” 

“There’s a different side to everyone, Sunshine.” Eddie speaks softly and carefully. “Sometimes we have to resort to it… to save and protect the ones we love.” 

His eyes flash with something else, a distant memory that never strays away from him, always reminding him of the night he protected everyone too, the scars on his skin a forever reminder. 

You nod at his words, knowing that he is right about everything. 

“You sacrificed a little part of yourself… that doesn’t mean that you are lost completely, Darling.” He whispers as his eyes flicker to the forming scar on your cheekbone. 

Warmth spreads through you, and you feel the kind of comfort you always got from your brother whenever things got tough. He is like him – in a lot of ways. 

“Like you did…” You whisper, knowing about the night he almost gave his life to save everyone. 

His throat bobs as he nods. His dark eyes flashing with horrors that night tortured him with. 

“I’m sorry, Eddie.” You whisper, knowing how painful it must be to think back to that night. 

He gives you a smile, a soft and comforting one. 

“I’m sorry too,” he mumbles and pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around. He tugs you into his comforting embrace. Giving you a warm, big hug. 

A sigh falls from your lips as you close your eyes and wrap your arms around him, squeezing his waist. 

Eddie is a little surprised that you hugged back so quickly, but a satisfied smile appears on his face. He loves hugs. Unfortunately, Nancy hates them and Steve… is well Steve. He only allows you to get close nowadays. 

You stay in his embrace for a while, only now realizing how much you needed it, how much you needed the reassurance and the comforting words of someone who is now like a brother to you. 

“You smell really nice.” Eddie blurts out after a long few minutes of silence. 

You furrow your brows as an amused smile makes its way on your face. 

Eddie sniffs at your hair causing you to giggle, especially when you pull away and he follows. 

“What’s that scent? Is that raspberry?” Eddie questions, tilting his head to the side. “How do you smell so good?” 

You push him away with a giggle, rolling your eyes at his genuine curiosity. 

“I wash my hair? Duh.” 

“I wash mine too, smarty pants.” He rolls his eyes at you, poking your cheek. “Mine never smells like that.” 

“Gotta find yourself a new shampoo then.” You shrug and look down, blushing a little. You always made sure that you look decent, that you don’t smell, which isn’t always easy in a world like this considering you sometimes run out of water and have to resort to wet wipes until you find a lake to fill up your water tanks again and Eddie tends to use way too much of your body wash. 

But you always do your best to stay clean, to smell nice – especially, especially now that you share a bed with Steve and somehow always end up in his arms or even on top of him. 

You may or may not have a secret bottle of perfume hidden in one of your boxes. 

He hums, crossing his arms over his chest as he eyes you slowly. 

“It’s not the shampoo, is it?” He squints his eyes as a smirk tugs at his lips. “You got some sort of body spray or perfume hiding somewhere, don’t ya? No one can smell that nice from shampoo or body wash alone.”

You shrug, humming, “I do.”

But Eddie can see the way you avoid his eyes, the way a blush creeps up your face, and you grow flustered. He knows exactly why. 

He can’t help but poke your waist, chuckling when you flinch, “you little liar! You got perfume hidden somewhere, don’t you? Wanna smell nice for Stevie boy, huh?”

Your eyes widen and your lips part as you begin to stutter. 

“Oh, I knew it!” Eddie laughs loudly. “I mean, I get it, if I shared a bed with someone I have a big fat crush on, I’d do the same.” 

You roll your eyes at him and push his hand away, turning around, you walk back into the store. 

Crush is an understatement, you are way past that point. 

Eddie’s smile never fades as he follows you. “You didn’t deny it.” 

You didn’t, no. There is definitely no point in denying something so obvious. Eddie already knew it when you attacked him with that wet shirt. 

“Do you want me to deny it?” You scoff. 

“Nope. I know it already anyway,” he shrugs, following you with a satisfied smirk on his face. “Tell me, have you kissed yet?” 

You halt in your tracks, cheeks burning at this point. 

Eddie almost walks into you when you stop so suddenly. He raises his eyebrows as he stares at the back of your head. 

You turn around to face him, not bothering to hide your flustered face. 

“No…” You mumble, shaking your head. The thought of kissing Steve makes your cheeks burn hotter and your chest flutter. There was a moment, a fleeting moment, where you thought that he would kiss you, where you thought of making the move yourself and closing the gap between you, but he pulled away before you had the chance to. 

Your eyes flash with something that makes Eddie’s smile fall slowly. The teasing no longer evident in his eyes when he sees something more serious in your features. 

“You hesitated,” Eddie points out, tilting his head at you. “Did you try to…?”

You shake your head. Your mind wasn’t there in these past few days and before that you were too insecure to even think about it. But you want to, god, you want to kiss him so badly. 

“No. There was a moment…” 

Eddie raises his eyebrows at you to continue. 

You take a deep breath as you glance out the window, even through all the dust and the dirt on the glass, you can still see him. He is standing with his arms crossed, face etched in concern as he waits for you to come back out. 

Eddie’s impatient huff pulls your attention back to him. 

“When I saved the cub, Steve pulled me into his arms… to warm me up– Don’t look at me like that, he would have done the same for you or Nancy!” You frown, blushing furiously when the teasing grin is back on his face. Though the thought of Steve holding Nancy the way he held you makes you feel sour for some reason. 

“No, he wouldn’t.” Eddie snorts. “He’d throw a blanket over our shoulders and call it a day. Now, continue.” He waves with his hand. 

You huff at him, rolling your eyes as you look down at your hands. 

“There was a moment where he moved closer… and I-I thought that maybe… he would kiss me.” You shrug, trying to act like it doesn’t affect you that he didn’t do it. “But then he moved back again… so maybe I just… saw something that wasn’t even there.” 

Eddie’s eyes soften, and a sad smile tugs on his lips. You don’t even see the way he looks at you. 

“Sweetheart–”

“No, it’s fine.” You shake your head, hating that exposing vulnerable feeling rising up in you. 

“You wanted him to kiss you, didn’t you?” 

You bounce your knee and bite your lip as you feel the nerves clinging to your heart. Your ears burn too now. You don’t answer his question but you look at him through your lashes, allowing him to look into your eyes. 

Eddie’s eyes light up, his dimples show when his smile widens. 

“Aw, Sunshine.” He giggles as he leans closer and pinches your cheek. “You’re adorable.” 

“Stop!” You groan in embarrassment, pushing his hand off. 

“I mean I already knew there was something between y'all but… damn… just make the first move. What are you waiting for? For him to sweep you off your feet and kiss you stupid before putting his cowboy hat on you so you can–”

“Oh god,” you interrupt him, rolling your eyes, though with a smile on your face. 

“You make the first move, you’re an independent, strong woman, Sweetheart. Don’t wait on the guy, I think he lost all his charm, you gotta be the one to make the first step here.”

You shake your head, “nope, I don’t think he likes me like that.”

Eddie sighs at your words, “listen, my sweetheart used to bully me when we were still in high school, we hated each other, turned out we just needed to fuck to see the potential between us,” he shrugs. “Steve wasn’t a bully to you… but… he kinda was. Still, I saw him checking you out, even when we were still in Hawkins.” 

Your eyes widen, “w-what?”

“Oh, Honey.” Eddie chuckles, his eyes flickering with amusement. “You are so oblivious. You’re telling me you don’t notice when his eyes are glued to your ass?”

You swallow and you shake your head, feeling as though you will suffocate if you don’t get out of here. 

“I thought women notice that shit.” He chuckles. 

You only stare in response, not knowing what to say because no, you don’t notice. 

Eddie tilts his chin down and lowers his voice, “you’re telling me he never got hard during one of your cuddle sessions–”

“Eddie!” You slap his chest, blushing harder than ever before. Your reaction giving you away yet again. 

He laughs loudly, eyes widening. “Oh, so he did!” 

“Shut up!” You mumble as you turn around and continue your way towards the door. “He said it was… wasn’t like that…”

Eddie furrows his eyebrows, still laughing behind you. 

“He just got hard for the fun of it?”

You roll your eyes and turn back around, “it was cold, it was before I got sick, when we hid in the car during the storm… We warmed each other up and he… you know.” You say quietly. 

Eddie didn’t know that. Steve told him about the part where you had to ditch your clothes and cuddle to warm up, but he left this very interesting part out. 

He crosses his arms over his chest, unable to fight the smirk off his lips. 

“It doesn’t work like that, you know? At least not to me, I’m not gonna get hard because of someone I’m not attracted to, Sweets. No matter how close they are.”

Your eyes grow hopeful, and he sees it. 

“Besides, you can’t tell me that wasn’t the only time…” Eddie says slowly. 

You and Steve have been sharing a bed since you got sick, and more than once, Eddie walked in on you cuddling in your sleep. 

You breathe in sharply and Eddie laughs again. Oh, he is gonna enjoy his next conversation with Steve. 

“And you haven’t mounted that horse yet, Cowgirl?” 

“I am done with this conversation!” You say with a high pitched voice as you turn on your heel and make your way out the door. You breathe in the fresh air, hoping for the coldness to cool off your burning cheeks, but the moment your eyes lock with his, you are done for. 

Eddie clears his throat as he steps out behind you, he stops laughing, though the amusing smile on his face gives away the kind of conversation you had in there. 

Steve pushes himself off the RV, his concerned eyes moving across your face. Unlike before, you don’t seem tense, and your expression is softer, though there is something else now troubling you. You are flustered, he can tell that much, especially by the way Eddie is smirking. 

Eddie picks up the pace when he notices that Nancy isn’t outside anymore. He catches up to you and reaches out for your arm, wrapping his hand around your bicep, he leans down and whispers, “also, you better talk to that poor man again; he follows you around like some lost puppy.” 

Guilt surges through you as you glance at Steve, whose eyes are softer than ever as he eyes you. You know you have been neglecting conversations with him, struggling to talk the way you did before the attack. The look in his eyes is why you avoided eye contact with him – it’s killing you now. 

Who would have thought that you would ever turn him into this? 

Steve furrows his eyebrows as he looks between you, noticing the flustered look on your face right away. 

Eddie brushes past him after letting go of you, he pats his shoulder before he disappears into the RV, giving you a moment to talk. 

Steve never takes his eyes off you, his body moving on its own accord, towards you. His name falls from your lips softly. His voice forces you to look up at him. 

“Are you okay…?” Steve whispers, his hand slowly reaching towards yours. 

You nod, looking into his hazel eyes, feeling warmth flooding through you, settling in your chest and in your stomach. The feeling of comfort holding you strongly every time you are near him. 

“You know that you can talk to me, right?” He doesn’t even try to hide the desperation in his voice. He knows Eddie tried to get through to you, and he might have done, but he wanted to be the one. 

“I know,” you whisper, sighing as you look down at his hand. You can’t help but reach out and slowly wrap your pinky around his. 

Steve’s heart flutters in his chest, he looks down and envelopes your hand fully, giving it a squeeze. 

“I just… I needed some time.”

Steve nods, understanding it more than anyone. 

“But Eddie…”

“Eddie is just like my annoying brother. Impatient and forcing me to talk.” 

Steve doesn’t know why he feels the weight of relief at the words ‘Eddie’ and ‘brother’ in the same sentence. He was fearing that you might have a more special bond to Eddie than you do to him. 

He cracks a smile, his shoulders slumping as the tension slips off. You notice it, how his eyes soften and a breath of relief falls from his lips. It gives you a shimmer of hope. 

“I wanted you to talk to me but I didn’t want to pressure you,” he murmurs softly as he takes a step closer to you and looks down at you with an expression that hasn’t faltered, not even after that night. You were so scared to look into his eyes, to see fear or disgust after how you handled things but you find none of those things – if anything, the look in his eyes is even softer now, making you feel stupid for even worrying, for thinking that he could see you how you saw yourself.

“I would have talked to you,” you whisper. Your own eyes soften, your voice filled with guilt. You didn’t mean to push him away, you didn’t mean to be so distant. 

“Yeah?” Steve tilts his chin down, looking deeply into your eyes. 

You nod. 

“Good. I thought you might have ditched me for Eddie,” he jokes, caressing the top of your hand with his thumb. “Thought you’d kick me out of our bed to snuggle him instead.”

Our bed. 

Your heart skips a beat, cheeks burning hotly at the choice of his words that you like a little too much. 

“Never.” You giggle, your eyes glinting with amusement. 

Steve’s stomach flutters, his heart yearning to hear more of that sound. His eyes light up and his hand squeezes yours tighter. 

“I missed that.” He blurts out, redness taking over his cheeks. 

“Missed what?” 

You tilt your head to the side in a way that makes him feel weak, you just look so damn cute, with that line between your eyebrows and the slight pout on your lips. 

“Your smile, your laughter.” 

Your breath hitches in your throat, your heart nearly exploding. 

He missed your smile? Your laughter? 

The look on his face is serious, his eyes vulnerable. You never thought that you could have such an effect on the guy who didn’t even want you around at first. 

Now he is holding you in his sleep, needing to feel you in his arms at nights, yearning to see you smile, to hear your laugh, to have you with him. It drives you crazy. It makes you yearn for him even more. 

Lost puppy is what Eddie had called him, the look in his eyes resembles just that. 

You can’t even fight the sudden urge to hug him, you take a step towards him and let go of his hand to wrap your arms around him instead, strongly. It certainly is not your first hug but it still catches him off guard, especially after days and days of your silence and distance.

You lean your head against his chest and close your eyes, breathing in his scent and melting into his embrace when he slowly wraps his arms around your waist, hugging you back after a second of hesitation caused by surprise. 

Steve’s face crumbles completely, his eyes softening even more if that is even possible. His heart beats so strongly, threatening to expose the way he feels about this. He takes a deep breath, an inhale of your sweet scent that sets all his insides on fire every goddamn time. His breathing turns shaky as he leans down and tightens his hold on you. 

You don’t know how long you stay that way for, but a few minutes pass – and if it was up to you, both many more could pass, but you need to move, you need to get back on the road. 

You pull away reluctantly. He keeps his hands on you, not pulling away completely yet. Your eyes meet and they speak to each other, the way your hearts do too. If only you could voice out your feelings. 

You are a hopeful person; you have always been one. It isn’t easy to be one in a situation like this though – even when a part of you, the smallest one, hangs onto the weak string kept together by the little moments of his eyes flickering down to your lips or his hands holding onto you tightly, searching for your touch. 

Could he feel the same? Could he feel a sliver of what you are feeling? 

If so, will he ever make a move or was Eddie right about what he said about him? 

Will you have to be the one to try? 

You aren’t sure if you are ready to try but you know that you will regret it someday if you don’t take the leap. 

You notice the way he stares at your lips, you feel the way his fingers tighten around your arms. 

Your eyes move across his face, tracing every mole, every scar, his pink cheeks, his lips that look surprisingly soft given the cold weather. Too many nights you have gone to sleep wondering what it would feel like to kiss him. 

This isn’t the right moment, it definitely isn’t. 

But you have to test the waters, you just have to. 

“Come on, we should hit the road,” you whisper as you take another step closer, moving onto your tippy toes, you press your hands against his chest, avoiding his eyes as you lean closer and press your lips against his cheek, pecking it softly. 

Steve’s eyes widen and his breath hitches in his throat. The spot your lips touched tingling as his heart threatened to jump out of his throat. 

He stands there for a while, even after you have pulled away to make your way back into the RV. He stands there processing what just happened. 

It was an innocent kiss. It was the smallest peck, a sweet kiss on his cheek – nothing he hadn’t felt before, and yet it made his heart beat in a way nothing else ever did before. 

He can’t help but crave more, he can’t help but want more than just this. 

When he returns to the RV, his cheeks are still burning, his heart's still pounding. He tries to act like nothing happened, like this little moment didn’t affect his emotions. He closes the door behind him, locking it. 

He clears his throat as he looks around, his eyes meeting Eddie’s, who is smirking at him, eyes glinting. He saw the whole thing, of course he did, he watched it. 

Though the metalhead says nothing and only turns back around, getting comfortable in the passenger seat as Nancy throws the map into his lap. She glances over her shoulder after fastening her seatbelt, looking at you before her eyes meet his. 

“Ready?” 

Steve nods, scratching his neck awkwardly as he moves towards you and takes a seat beside you. 

“Hit the road, Nance.” Eddie hums, but not without looking back at you one more time, giving you a wink that doesn’t go unnoticed by Steve. 

He glances at you, though you turn away from him, blushing. 

Steve raises his eyebrows, still looking at you – so he isn’t the only one getting teased by the metalhead. 

That sparkle of hope lights up inside of him. And he doesn’t know how to feel about it because it grows fastly and strongly. 

When after a few minutes of the drive, you lay your head on his shoulder, his heart nearly combusts as his skin starts burning up. The little sparkle will quickly turn into a flame and then… what?

How will this end for him? 

He doesn’t want to think about it, he doesn’t want to worry. 

But it’s in his nature to worry, to drive himself crazy with the what if’s. 

But for now, he reaches for your hand and he intertwines his fingers with yours. 

The squeeze of your hand makes his heart flutter wildly and it shows him nothing but the fact that he is screwed, so very screwed. 

-

You have always heard about the harsh winters in Wyoming, the sudden snowstorms, the heavy wind, and extremely cold temperatures. Though you didn’t think that it would hit you so suddenly, the way it did, given the warmth of the sun you were grazed with earlier today. 

You’ve only spent three hours on the road before Nancy had to stop driving due to the worsening weather conditions. The snow started falling harder, making it difficult to see. Thunder started rumbling, the red lightning in the distance made you all a little anxious. 

She parked the RV on the side of the road, close to a sign leading to a town. Her and Eddie left to find shelter for the night but they had been gone for an hour now and the wind had picked up since.

You look out the window, bouncing your knee anxiously as the snow covers more and more of the road and the trees. 

The howling of the wind makes you feel slightly uneasy. You feel it, it’s causing the RV to sway, making the tires creak beneath you. 

Steve is pacing back and forth, unable to find rest, knowing his friends are out there and the storm is getting worse but you couldn’t all go together, it’s too risky to leave the RV standing on the side of the road. 

“They’ve been gone for an hour.” He stresses. 

“They’ll be fine.” You assure him as you pull away from the window and sit down on the bench. “It’s not that bad out yet. I’ve been stuck in worse storms.” You shrug, trying to act like you aren’t afraid, like he is. 

“Have you?” He asks softly, his eyes finding yours as he stops pacing. 

“Yeah. It was one of those storms.” You murmur as you gesture to the red lightning in the distance. 

Steve frowns as he glances at the sky. He knows that this means nothing good. The storm, the red lightning, means the town ahead of you is crawling with monsters. 

The thought that you have been stuck in one of those makes his heart clench in his chest. The thought that you could all get stuck in that again, makes him feel the paralyzing fear that he hates so much. 

“We should have kept driving.” He mumbles as he thinks of everything that could happen. 

“No, we could’ve gotten stuck right in there. We are still a good distance away from it, we just need a more stable… shelter for the night, and after that we can figure out how to avoid this area.” 

You are right, he knows it, yet he can’t stop his fear from spreading inside of him. 

The door bursts open, making both you and Steve flinch from the sudden noise. Nancy rushes in first. Her scarf is covering half of her face, her clothes are covered in white snow. She removes the scarf, revealing her red nose and her trembling lips. 

Eddie curses under his breath as he slams the door behind him and removes his scarf as well. “Jesus, it’s cold as shit!” He breathes as he rubs his hands together. His nose is glowing red too. 

“We found something.” Is all that Nancy says before she makes her way back into the driver's seat, not wasting any time to start the engine. 

Steve looks between her and Eddie with furrowed eyebrows. “Found what exactly?” 

Eddie keeps rubbing his hands together as he brushes past Steve and plops down into the passenger seat. “Big place with a garage and everything, we can leave the RV in there, no problem–”

Steve sits down beside you before Nancy starts driving. 

“Any infected?... Monsters?” 

Eddie shakes his head at him, “just one infected outside the gate, nothing else. We checked the area and the mansion–”

“Mansion!?” You ask, your eyes widen. 

Eddie chuckles at your reaction, he holds onto the back of Nancy’s seat as she drives down the road. He looks between you and Steve. “Yeah, the place hasn’t been touched in years, we checked inside as well. It’s clean, nothing except for dust in there.” 

“Yeah.” Nancy nods. “Looks like it was some sort of vacation house.” 

“Mhmm.” Eddie hums, his eyes flashing with something that you can’t read. “You’re gonna love it, Sweetheart.” 

“Why?” You tilt your head at him. 

“You’ll see,” he chuckles, wiggling his eyebrows at you. 

You and Steve look at each other, both frowning in confusion. He takes a deep breath and turns back to Eddie when the RV suddenly lurches forward. You begin to slip off your seat, gasping in surprise as you reach your hand out to grab the handle behind you, when you feel Steve’s heavy arm around your body. 

With his arm around your waist and your back pressed against his chest, he holds you tightly, saving you from the fall as he holds onto the table beside the bench you are both sharing. 

“Wheeler!” Eddie breathes, holding his hand to his chest as he stares at the girl gripping the steering wheel tightly. 

“Sorry! Must’ve been the infected!” She shrieks. 

You grab Steve’s wrist, holding on tightly even though the RV is moving normally again, driving smoothly. 

“Jesus!” Steve grumbles behind you as he turns around to face the two in the front. “You drove over an infected?” 

“I didn’t see it until it was too late!” Nancy snaps. 

“Doesn’t matter anyways, it was dead, it was also dead when I killed it.” Eddie shrugs as he settles back into his seat. “Now we know for sure! Nance sealed the deal!”

Nancy shakes her head at Eddie, huffing at him. 

The sound of your giggle fills the silence in the RV that followed after Eddie’s attempted joke. Steve freezes behind you, his hold only tightening around your body as his heart skips a beat. 

A smile tugs at Nancy’s lip as she glances at you again, watching the way you lean your head against Steve’s shoulder who is looking down at you like you are the sweetest thing to walk this tainted earth. 

“Oh man,” Eddie whispers quietly enough for only Nancy to hear. She narrows her eyes at him before she returns her attention back to the road. 

“Ten bucks she’ll make the first move,” Eddie murmurs as he leans closer to her. 

“Money has no worth anymore, Munson.” Nancy snorts. 

She straightens her back as she leans closer to the steering wheel, a soft smile appears on her face. “I’ll get you two packs of cigarettes if you’re right but I have faith that he’ll make the first move.” 

He is intrigued, he didn’t think that she would agree to this. A smirk tugs at his lip, he moves closer to her. 

“And what do you want if you win?”

Nancy hums, “a shotgun.” 

“Why did I even ask?” Eddie chuckles, shaking his head as he leans back again. 

“I don’t know, now shut up, I need to focus.” She mumbles. Her eyes squint as she drives through the snowstorm, getting heavier by the minute now, the sky darkening. She could almost sigh of relief when she saw her flashlight in the distance, guiding her towards the garage. It was her idea to leave it there, knowing she wouldn’t be able to see the roads with the falling snow.

You could still feel Steve’s arms around your waist as the RV kept swaying, and then, you felt a slight drop making you squeal and Steve’s grip only tightened as he cursed under his breath. Your eyes turned to the windows and it was pitch black. You frowned, slowly getting on your feet with Steve as Eddie got up from the passenger’s seat.

“Let’s lock ourselves up, and we’ll go inside.” You blinked a few times, looking down at your waist. Steve followed your eyes, and he ripped his hand off you, feeling himself burn in embarrassment from holding you even after you didn’t need holding anymore. He feels as if he had been caught red handed. 

“DON’T FORGET MY FLASHLIGHT!” Nancy yells as she sees Eddie walking out of the RV with a wave of his hand. She sighs, shutting down the RV and sighing out of exhaustion. “I can’t wait to just relax…”

She gets up from her seat and turns around to face you both. Instantly, her eyebrows furrow when she senses the sudden awkwardness as Steve is blushing furiously while trying to busy himself with taking out a few cans of food to take into the house. You are sitting down still, looking up at him with a flustered look on your face. 

She can’t help but chuckle. However, when you both turn to her, she covers it up with a cough. She takes a step towards the door and opens it. 

“Alright ladies and gentlemen, garage is locked.” Eddie’s voice echoes in the garage. “Let’s go inside! Sweets come on, you’re gonna wanna see this!” 

You jump up from your seat and make your way out the RV. It’s too dark in the garage to see anything, only the flashlight Eddie is holding lights up the space around you. 

“Come on,” he tilts his head into direction of the door which you assume leads into the house. 

Eddie is grinning at you as he opens the door. He uses his flashlight to guide you inside. You make your way inside, curiously looking around, but you can’t see much yet. 

“They have a generator in the basement, but we couldn’t find any gas.”  

“That’s fine, we can light up some candles and the fireplace if there is one.” You murmur as you walk further into the house with every step that you take. 

“Romantic.” Eddie chuckles as he turns around, pointing the flashlight at Steve, wiggling his eyebrows at him. 

The former jock only rolls his eyes in response. 

“Oh my god!” 

Your shriek startles everyone, but Eddie quickly recovers when he sees what you’re so excited about. 

“Give me that!” You rip the flashlight from his hand and point it at the wall, gasping.

You start jumping up and down, bouncing on your feet as you squeal in excitement.  

Steve steps closer to you, noticing how your eyes light up like the ones of a kid on christmas morning. His lips curl into a smile, a small chuckle falling from his lips.

The wall in the long hallway is decorated with cowboy hats and western style pictures, giving away the kind of people who lived here before. 

Nancy and Eddie laugh at your reaction as you stare at the collection of cowboy hats, already looking for your favorite one. 

“This is like Wayne’s collection except we were poor and these people were rich rich.” Eddie murmurs as he looks into the big living room. 

“Hey,” Nancy steps closer to you. “You wanna take a look in the closet upstairs? I think you’re gonna like it.” 

Your wide eyes meet hers, and even in the faint light, she can see the excitement swirling in your eyes. 

Steve doesn’t tear his eyes away from you, loving the genuine surprise in your features, the happiness that slowly makes its way into your eyes. 

“Looks like a couple lived here and they were gone before shit hit the fan,” Eddie mumbles behind you as he gestures to the plastic covers over the furniture but you aren’t even listening to him. Your eyes only light up even more as you stare at Nancy. 

Steve’s own eyes widen in surprise when he suddenly feels your hand holding his, and you begin to drag him away from the hallway and towards the big staircase in the middle, “come on, Stevie!” 

Nancy’s laughter echoes in the hallway, the look on Steve’s face is more than just amusing. 

“Stevie.” Eddie murmurs under his breath to her, chuckling softly. 

“Shush.” Nancy slaps his chest as she watches you both move up the stairs. “Come on.” 

“I knew she would love this.” Eddie smiles as he and Nancy follow you up onto the second floor, which they have checked out before already. “Do you think she’s gonna force Steve into a cowboy outfit?” 

“Is that even a question?” She chuckles. 

When Nancy mentioned a closet, you didn’t imagine it to be a walk-in closet, let alone one filled with clothes your heart desires the most. You look around with wide eyes, spotting the variety of cowboy boots on the shoe shelf, the leather jackets, the jeans and vests.

“Holy shit!” You whisper as you slowly let go of Steve’s hand. 

Steve squints his eyes as you walk away from him, leaving him in the dark as you use the flashlight to take a closer look at the clothes. 

“That is like a dream come true,” you whisper, putting the flashlight down to grab a pair of boots. “I wonder if these will fit me.” 

He leans against the wall as he watches you move around, his eyes soften, and a smile appears on his face. His heart melts, the tension slowly slips off his shoulders. It’s nice to see you like this again.

“Why don’t we dress up?” Eddie speaks from the doorway, smirking cockily at Steve, expecting him to shake his head though Steve only shrugs. 

“Are you kidding? Why do you even ask?” You exclaim as you start looking through the jeans, tapping off the layers of dust that have unfortunately covered the clothes. 

Eddie chuckles at your expression, at the bewildered look on your face. He steps closer to Steve and pats his shoulder, “why don’t we find you an outfit to impress the girl, cowboy?” He whispers to him. 

Steve glares at him, though only because his cheeks heat up at the thought of your reaction to him wearing something that you love. 

“Let’s do justice to your new nickname.” Eddie chuckles as he pushes him towards the side of the closet that has all the male clothing.

“Where is Nancy?” You frown, already picking out an outfit for her. 

“Looking for batteries for a table lamp.” Eddie explains. “Go on, get dressed, Sweets.” 

You shrug and turn your attention back to the clothes, picking out an outfit. You grab the pair of boots you liked the most before you start making your way out of the room. 

Steve’s eyes follow you until he can no longer see you, with a soft gaze and rosy cheeks. 

“Be right back, fellas!” Your giggle echoes in the hallway.

Eddie’s hand is still on Steve’s shoulder. His smirk bigger than it was before, eyes flashing with mischief. 

“Oh boy.” Eddie murmurs, enjoying Steve’s reaction already. “She’s adorable.” 

Steve's smile slowly falls, his expression hardens as he turns to face his friend. 

“Hey now, I didn’t mean it like that.” Eddie chuckles, his smirk never fading. “She’s all yours, man. Matter of fact, you can make her all yours tonight. We’re safe here, nothing’s out there and if there is, the storm will take care of it, nothing survives that shit out there,” Eddie points out the window, the snowstorm now raging stronger than before. 

Steve’s shoulders tense up again and he frowns, shaking his head. 

“Eddie–”

“Don’t. I know what I see, and I can see right through you. Whatever is going on in that big head of yours,” he pauses, flicking his forehead, making Steve frown harder. “Whatever is holding you back, delete that shit out of your brain, man. Don’t let her slip through your fingers. You waiting on that perfect moment? You got it now, perfect chance.” Eddie whispers, spreading his arms out as he gestures to the big space they’re standing in. “There’s even a king sized bed, you ain’t getting that opportunity again.”

“Dude.” Steve shakes his head, blushing at the last comment. 

“Don’t dude me,” Eddie sighs, rolling his eyes. He turns away from him and starts looking through the clothes. “Just watch the way she will drool when she sees you in… these… tight pants.” He murmurs as he hands him a pair of jeans, pressing them against his chest. 

Steve looks down, lifting his hand up slowly, and he grabs them, a sigh falling from his lips. 

“This is ridiculous–”

“Guys!” 

Eddie looks over Steve’s shoulder, taking a look at you. It’s dark in the room, the flashlight only gives little light but just enough to see you. His eyes widen, and he puts his hand back on Steve’s shoulder. 

“Tell me I look like a real cowgirl!” You giggle as you twirl around. 

Steve stares at you, not even blinking, not moving, not breathing. He is just staring. His lips are parted as he eyes you up and down. 

The jeans you are wearing are tight,hugging your curves, and your ass perfectly. The brown belt low on your hips. You could have chosen one of the many flannels in the closet, but you didn’t, instead you opted for a jean vest with a very low neckline. You buttoned it up, but it is still very open, very exposing – exposing to the point where he can see a little of your bra, the lace standing out underneath. You opened your hair, removed the hair ties around your braids. 

His eyes keep flickering between your ass and your chest, unable to look away. His stomach making somersaults at the look of you, his skin heating up beneath his clothes. 

“Well damn,” Eddie whistles at you, chuckling when you stand in front of the mirror and check yourself out with a squeal. “You look hot, Cowgirl.” He smirks, squeezing Steve’s shoulder. 

Steve swallows, unable to tear his eyes away from you. 

“What do you think!” You turn around, facing Steve. 

His eyes widen at your attention, his cheeks reddening underneath your gaze. He looks away from your chest and into your eyes, though finding it hard to after checking you out like a perv. 

“Y-You…” His voice breaks, which makes Eddie cackle behind him. Steve clenches his jaw, taking a deep breath. “You look amazing, Sunshine.” 

A giggle falls from your mouth and you bite your lip as you look down at the jeans in his hand, “come on, it’s your turn!” You smile excitedly, making your way towards him. “Let me pick out the rest of your outfit!” 

Steve and Eddie step aside, letting you do your thing. They both watch as you pick a flannel and a vest for him to wear. 

“You need any assistance, Eddie?” 

The metalhead chuckles, shaking his head as he keeps on watching Steve. 

“Nah, I got it. Just help this Cowboy here out.” 

Steve feels a little relieved when he finally gets to leave the room after you hand him the rest of his outfit. He takes a deep breath once out in the hallway, earning an amused smile from Nancy when she walks past him with the table lamp now in her hand. 

“You okay there?” She asks, glancing between his face and the clothes and boots in his arms. 

“Peachy.” He grumbles as he steps into the closest room he can find privacy in. 

Nancy can’t help but chuckle, already sensing what she will walk into. She steps inside the walk-in closet, lighting up the room with the lamp she found. Her eyes widen when she notices your new outfit. 

“Oh wow! You– Your ass looks amazing in those pants!” Nancy gushes over you, looking you up and down. 

A laugh falls from Eddie’s lips when he sees how flustered you get. 

“Nancy isn’t the only one who thinks that.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “You should keep them.” 

“Eddie!” You huff, slapping his shoulder. But you can’t fight the blush off your cheeks, thinking about how he might have checked you out. 

“Just telling the truth.” He cackles, stepping away from you and towards the hallway. “I’ll be right back, I got the best one.” 

Nancy crosses her arms over her chest, shaking her head at him with a smile. She takes a seat on one of the armchairs and glances at you. 

“Aren’t you cold?” She asks, eying your exposed arms. 

“I am, but I wanna enjoy this moment in this pretty vest.” You say, turning back towards the mirror. “Are you not gonna get changed?” 

Nancy shakes her head, “nope and don’t even try to convince me, this is not my style. It looks amazing on you though.” 

You pout at her, “not even a pair of boots?” 

She shakes her head, “I’m satisfied with my own. I’ll take a look at the rest of the clothes though, I’m sure there’s something other than western stuff, right?” 

“Let’s take a look.” You shrug. You busy yourself with the big closet, standing next to each other as you look through the drawers. 

Nancy opens another one, her eyes widening. 

“Wow.” Nancy whispers, blushing as she pulls out a thong. “You want those?”

You narrow your eyes, glancing at the lace in her hand. 

“Wear them during one of your cuddle sessions with Steve,” she giggles, wiggling her eyebrows at you the way Eddie always does. 

“Nancy! You are sounding just like Eddie.” You whisper and grab it from her hand, making her chuckle. You shake your head at her, cheeks burning. 

The floorboards creak in the doorway, causing you both to look over your shoulders. Your eyes widen as Nancy gasps. 

Eddie stands there, hair hanging loosely down his shoulders, cowboy hat on his head. He is wearing a black leather vest with nothing underneath, his tattoos and his scars on full display. You look down and you can’t help but laugh loudly. The leather pants are a little too tight on his crotch, leaving no room for imagination. 

“Ew, Munson! I can see your dick!” Nancy screeches and covers her eyes. 

Eddie walks over to the mirror, ignoring her reaction. A wide smile appears on his face as he checks himself out the way you did before. 

“Oh, I am definitely taking these! My sweetheart will love this!” 

You giggle at both his and Nancy’s reaction. 

“Don’t ever wear this in front of me again!” Nancy stresses, turning back towards the closet with red cheeks. 

“I’m wearing them now, Wheeler.” Eddie mumbles, not paying attention to her. “Just don’t look at my dick, perv.” 

“Fuck off.” 

You can’t help but shake your head in amusement at their interaction. 

“I think I get it now, Sunshine. I’m kind of digging this.” Steve mumbles, appearing in the doorway. 

You turn around to face him, opening your mouth to speak, though before you can even utter a single word, your breath gets caught in your throat and your eyes widen at the sight of him in this getup. Your lips part and a weird sensation rushes through your body as you take him in. 

He left the shirt under his vest unbuttoned at the top, showing off his chest hair. You eye the scar around his neck, taking a quick glance at his face to see him staring back at you already. You bite your lip without noticing as you take in the way the jeans hug him, the way the vest looks on him, the boots. 

He doesn’t even look dressed up, it just looks… good on him. 

Your heart flutters as he brings his hand up and runs it through his hair. 

You take a deep breath, sighing softly as you tilt your head. This is it, this is your cowboy. 

Nancy presses her lips together, holding back her laugh when she notices the way you stare at him. 

And Eddie, he only shakes his head at how obvious you are. 

“So…” Steve murmurs, smiling as he finally looks up. “What do you think, Sunshine?” 

You blink. 

Steve raises his eyebrows at you. He places his hands on his hips, eying your expression. Satisfaction grows strongly inside of him when he sees how flustered and speechless you are. 

Eddie looks between the two of you, his lips curling into a smirk. 

“Do you like what you see?” Steve adds, tilting his head down towards you. 

Finally, you blink yourself out of your stupor. Your whole body is burning up now, your lower stomach tingling, your knees weaken. 

“I-I… you look… you look—“

Nancy cringes a little at your stuttering, knowing that you are dying inside. 

“Yeah, Stevie looks hot doesn’t he?” Eddie chuckles, taking pity on you. “But not even he can beat this.” He gestures to himself, which luckily forces Steve’s attention away from you and towards him. 

Steve eyes him, his smirk falling as his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Dude…” He grumbles. “Are you trying out for your next job or…?” 

Nancy bursts out laughing, nodding. “I did see a dancing pole somewhere in here, might as well practice.” She jokes. 

Eddie’s smirk only widens at their teasing, “I would make a good stripper.” 

While the three of them continue to joke about Eddie’s potential stripper career, you are still staring at the pretty brunette, feeling taken aback by the effect he has on you. You have been attracted to people before, your ex-boyfriend for one, but it was never like this. He never stole your breath, he never made you feel weak in the knees, he never made your heart beat so strongly, not even when he broke it. 

You are screwed and it scares you a little. 

Your heart flutters strongly when he offers his arm out to you, acting charming. 

“Care to join me for dinner ‘round the fire, ma’am?” Steve attempts to imitate a southern accent. 

Your eyes widen and a surprised giggle falls from your lips. 

His eyes light up, his rosy cheeks glowing beneath the golden light of the table lamp. 

You hook your arm around his, biting your lip as you step closer to him, “why yes, sir. Do you have a horse to take me there?” You play along, using the same accent.

Steve chuckles as he leads you out of the room, grabbing the flashlight on the way out. 

Nancy watches you both leave the room with a smile on her face. 

“He sure does have one.” Eddie murmurs under his breath, chuckling. 

Nancy’s smile falls and she rolls her eyes at him, slapping his chest. 

“Why do you always have to be so gross?”

-

The fireplace in the living room is burning brightly, lighting up the room in a golden glow, the wood is crackling, music is playing softly from the radio Eddie had carried inside before dinner earlier.

You hear the howling of the wind outside and look out the window every once in a while to make sure that nothing followed you out here but both Nancy and Eddie keep repeating that you are safe for the night, that nothing will come even close to this mansion without getting stopped by the storm raging outside. 

They are right, you know they are but the red lightning in the distance makes you feel a little unsettled knowing that you might have to go through there tomorrow. 

“I have a proposition to make.” 

You push away from the window and draw the curtains close again, turning around, you face Eddie. 

He had changed into a different outfit earlier, a comfier one but you saw him stuffing the leather pants and vest into his backpack. 

Steve who had been looking at you, sitting close to the fire, tears his gaze away from you and glances at Eddie who is keeping one arm behind his back. 

“What is it?” Nancy murmurs without looking away from a book she found. 

Eddie grins as he reveals the whiskey bottle that he had been hiding behind his back. 

“Before anyone protests, I would like to remind you that this might be the only opportunity we have to relax and have some much needed fun.” He says, holding back a smirk as he looks between you and Steve. “We are safe here, you guys know we are, and we don’t know when we’ll ever get such an opportunity again.” 

Steve’s eyes find yours again. 

“You two deserve it especially.” He points between you. “You guys need to let loose.”

Nancy clears her throat and sits up on the sofa. 

“I think we all deserve to let loose. If these two are getting drunk, then so are you and I, Munson.” 

Eddie’s eyes widen in surprise, he turns to face her, “Wheeler, you never fail to impress me.” 

“Like you said, we’re safe here,” she shrugs. “And if anything happens, I’m an even better shooter when I’m drunk.” 

Eddie chuckles at her confidence. “Alright then,” he murmurs, turning back to you, he raises his eyebrows. 

You look between him and the whiskey bottle. The desire to forget about everything for a moment, to let loose, to have fun, is so strong. 

“You’re feeling better now, Sweets. You can drink,” he grins, tilting his head to the side. “Cowboy doc over there won’t say no, not tonight, am I right?” 

Steve licks his lips, taking a deep breath as he takes in the desire in your eyes. 

“No.” He shakes his head. 

“Okay…” You murmur, nodding. “But only if Steve drinks too.” 

“Oh, Sweetheart,” Eddie chuckles as he makes his way back to the bar in the corner of the room. “He’s already made his decision.” 

You make your way towards Steve, giving him a small smile as you sit down next to him. Nancy grabs a blanket and a pillow to sit on, throwing it down across from you, she plops down on it, giving you a curious smile, “when’s the last time you got drunk?” 

Eddie sits down beside her and places the cups on the ground. Opening the whiskey bottle, he fills them all up. 

“Uh… well, I haven’t had a single sip since all this shit had started,” you shrug, squinting your eyes. “Can’t even remember when that was.” 

Steve eyes your side profile, watching the way your dimple appears in your cheek when you smile. Your skin looks so soft beneath the golden light. There’s a scar forming from where you have been hit, he traces it every night, like he wants to cover the painful memory with another one – the way you do to him with his own scars. 

“Happy drunk or sad drunk?” 

You grab the cup and tilt your chin down as you raise it up to your lips, smelling the alcohol. 

“Happy drunk.” 

“Good, good.” Eddie nods. “This is gonna be fun then.” 

Steve pulls his knee up to his chest, grabbing the cup Eddie pushed towards him, he presses his hand against the floor, close to where yours is resting. 

“Do you get drunk quickly?” Steve asks as his fingers brush against yours. 

“Hmm, given the fact that I haven’t had any alcohol in over a year… probably yeah.” You nod. “But I am no lightweight usually!” 

Steve chuckles softly, finding you endearing. 

“Whatever you say, Honey.” 

Your cheeks heat up, and you look away from him, which makes his smile widen even more. The urge to tuck your hair behind your ear is growing strong. 

“Let’s drink!” Nancy cheers. 

Steve’s eyes stay on you, watching how you raise the cup to your lips and how you knock back the whiskey in one go, not even scrunching up your face in disgust. He gulps down his own and scoots closer to you, patting you on the back softly. 

“Atta girl.” 

You try to not feel affected by his words or his soft touch but it’s hard not to, especially when he speaks to you like that. 

You know this won’t be the only moment tonight that will make you feel weak in the knees, and you know that getting drunk might not be the best idea here, especially now with your feelings being so overwhelming. 

But you don’t care because one drink turns into two, two into three, and then into four. By the time Eddie is pouring your fifth cup, you have gone into a complete state of bliss. A permanent smile is stuck on your face, giggles fall from your lips at every joke made. 

And Steve feels no different, he is in the same state as you are. You have both scooted closer to each other, leaning towards one another every time you burst into laughter. His hand finds yours every time you fall into a fit of giggles at some stupid joke Eddie makes or tells a story from the past.

And in your drunken haze, you grow a little more confident, a little more daring, though waiting for an opportunity when it ends with just the two of you. It doesn’t take long for that to happen because soon Nancy passes out with her head on Eddie’s lap, the latter leaning against the couch, slowly falling asleep as well. The two of them too tired from driving all day. 

But you and Steve are far from it, not interested in sleeping at all. He is the first to get up, keeping his balance even with the alcohol in his system. He grabs the whiskey bottle that is half empty now. 

“Come on, Sunshine.” He whispers, turning to face you with a lazy smirk on his face. He reaches his hand down to you, “let’s get out of here.”

You giggle, gazing up into his eyes. Your heart flutters at the sight of his messy hair. His cheeks are rosy, sleeves rolled up, revealing all the veins in his arms. 

“Where are you taking me, sir?” You whisper as you put your hand in his and let him pull you up onto your feet. Your blanket falls off your shoulders, and you leave it on the ground, not caring to take it with you. 

“We’re gonna explore, Cowgirl.”

You giggle at that and he quickly moves his finger towards your lips, shushing you. “We don’t wanna wake them up.”

Your eyes widen, though a smirk tugs at your lips, “why, do you want me all to yourself?” You whisper, your head tilting to the side. 

All the worry, all those insecurities, all those what if’s that were coursing through his mind before are gone at this moment, and he can’t find it in himself to care to hold back. A part of him feels confident, the other intrigued, and the biggest part of him feels desire and yearning for this, for you. 

“What if I do?” He murmurs as his eyes flicker between your eyes and your lips, expecting you to get flustered, but instead, you take another step closer to him. 

“Well, you got me all to yourself now.”

Steve hums, his stomach flipping at your comment. He takes your hand, squeezing it as he smiles at you, “come on.”

You both tip toe out of the room, making sure not to wake either of them. You step out into the hallway, trying not to step on any creaking floorboards. 

“Where to first?” Steve whispers as he grabs the flashlight from his back pocket after handing you the bottle of whiskey. You instantly raise it up to your lips, taking a swig. 

“Hey now,” he shakes his head at you, “easy with the whiskey, little lady.” 

You can’t help but giggle at the deep tone in his voice and at the plastered frown on his pretty face. You take a step away from him, not letting go of his hand just yet. 

“Or what?” You raise your eyebrows. 

Steve lowers his eyebrows, a suggestive look flashing in his features. His eyes follow the drop of whiskey that rolls down your chin. Sober Steve would think about it but not do it, drunk Steve acts on his feelings though – he steps forward and brings his hand up to your face, cupping your cheek as he wipes away the drop of whiskey. 

Your breath gets caught in your throat at his action. Your stomach flipping with excitement and desire. You sink your teeth into your lower lip as you look into his eyes. 

Everything happened so quickly, so suddenly. It went from zero to one hundred. You don’t even know how it happened, how you went from shy touches to this but you aren’t complaining, not when he looks at you like this, not when he touches you like this, not when you see the chance of something more happening between you. 

The alcohol in your system makes this feeling between you so much stronger, like you threw fuel into the fire and the flames are burning higher and brighter now. 

Steve is looking at your lips, you are looking at his. All it would take is for one of you to make a move, just one step closer, just one. 

You aren’t your usual selves tonight, barely anything is holding you back and yet, the smallest part, the smallest voices in your heads, manage to break this moment apart. You don’t know who pulls away first, but a few seconds later, you are moving through the hallway again, still hand in hand. 

“I’ll pick out a hat for you.” You whisper to him, looking up at the collection of cowboy hats on the wall. 

“You don’t wanna wear one?” Steve asks, looking down at you. 

“No, I want you to wear one.” 

Steve aims the flashlight at the wall, though he isn’t looking at the hats, he is looking down at you. His heart thumping strongly, his stomach burning in desire. A mixture of emotions rushing through him. 

He watches the way your eyelashes flutter, the way you keep biting on your lip, the way you scrunch your nose up at certain hats. Steve swallows, the desire growing stronger with each passing second. Then his eyes move down to your neck, to the very revealing vest on your body, the black lace peeking out, your skin, your boobs–

“This one!” 

Steve blinks, swallowing harshly as you pull him out of his stupor. 

“I can’t reach it!” You pout as you look back at him, still holding your arm out towards the black hat. 

Steve doesn’t even think before he moves. He puts the flash light down and grabs the bottle of whiskey from your hand, placing it down on the ground as well before he steps up behind you. “I got it,” Steve murmurs into your ear, his lips getting caught in your hair. Instead of just taking the hat himself, he grabs your hips and he lifts you up with ease. 

You almost squeal in surprise, but you manage to hold it back. Your body heats up, burning like the flames in the fireplace, but you enjoy the moment, a little too much. His hands are big, his arms strong – you always knew, but this is making everything in you flutter. 

“Got it,” you giggle as you grab the hat off the hook. 

Steve puts you down again but he doesn’t let go of your hips just yet. His thumbs brush against your bare skin between your vest and your belt. Your skin is so soft, and you smell so sweet, so intoxicating. Your scent drives him crazy, every night when he goes to sleep with you, every morning when he wakes up with you in his arms but now… now it all feels more intense. 

His touch makes you feel weak, it brings out feelings in you that weren’t there before. And when you feel his breath on your neck, his nose in your hair, you almost lose it. Almost. You take a deep breath and turn around to face him. His hands are still holding your hips, grip never loosening. 

You bat your eyelashes at him as you rise up on your tippy toes, holding eye contact as you bring your hand up to fix his messy hair, the bang sticking up. 

His grip tightens on you in response, the feeling of your hands in his hair doing things to him that he can’t even explain. 

“There,” you whisper as you place the hat on his head. “Pretty Cowboy.”

Despite the cocky smirk appearing on his face, he also feels the heat spreading, feeling himself blushing, strongly. His heart skipping in his chest at your compliment. If only he could act upon his desire – he is already doing so, but still holding back. 

“Come on,” you whisper, reaching for his hand again. You bend down and retrieve the stuff from the floor. You press the whiskey bottle into his free hand and keep the flashlight in yours.

Steve tries to not look at your body when you walk up the stairs before him, but it’s hard not to do that when you move your hips the way you do, when your ass looks so good in those tight jeans. 

He swallows harshly, his eyes glued to you. His lower stomach flutters, and his breathing turns shaky. His desire for you had always been there, but never like this. The more he gets a taste of what it could be like to have you, the more his hunger grows. 

You make your way through the darkened hallway upstairs, finding a room that looks like it used to be an art room once. 

“Oh wow…” You breathe as you walk in further, eying all the drawings on the table, the paintings on the wall. You let go of Steve’s hand and pick up one of the wooden sculptures. 

Steve already misses the touch of your hand but he lets you explore the room. He looks around as well, noticing the camera on the shelf. He makes his way towards it, squinting his eyes because of the darkness in this room. He blows the dust off and picks it up, surprised to see it still turning on. He puts down the whiskey bottle, giving his entire focus to the camera. 

He polishes the camera lens with the sleeve of his flannel. He glances at you to see you standing close to the window now, the light of the flashlight kissing your features subtly. A smile tugs at his lips when your eyes light up. You look so beautiful. He raises the camera up, squinting one eye as he tries to get the perfect shot of you. 

You are so focused on the sculpture shaped into a horse that you don’t even hear the snap going off. 

“This is so nice,” you smile, putting down the sculpture. You turn to face Steve. Your eyes widen in surprise when you see the polaroid camera in his hand, not even noticing how he stuffed something into his back pocket. “Oh my god!” 

You rush towards him, taking the camera from his hand. 

“I’ve been looking for one everywhere!” You gasp, turning it in your hand. “Is it still working?” 

“Try it.” He smiles innocently. 

Your eyes flash with excitement as you take a step back. Bringing the camera up to your face, you aim it at him. “Perfect, now I get to keep a reminder of this.”

Steve chuckles. The never fading blush stays on his cheeks as he poses just for you. Not in a million years would he act this goofy with anyone. But he does it for you. So he holds the edge of his hat, almost tipping it as if saluting the camera, and his right hand is hooked on one of the belt loops of his pants. He hears the camera shutter going off, and you are smiling widely, bouncing on your feet as you hold your hand to the device to grab the picture developing already.

Once in your possession, you look at it in awe as you shake it, fanning it so it develops faster, and soon enough, your cowboy appears in the picture. He was born to wear these clothes. He sure is going to kill you someday. Your heart can barely handle it right now, but maybe the alcohol is helping with that one. The camera gets taken out of your hands, making you look at Steve, who is smirking already, a dangerous smirk that almost sends your knees to the floor.

You are startled when you feel a hat being placed on your head, his hat, and your thighs clench. You giggle a bit as you bite your bottom lip, your eyes finding his through your eyelashes, your hand stuffing the picture into your backpocket.

“Do you know the hat rule?” He tilts his head in question, a lazy smile on his lips, his body dangerously close as he moves a strand of your hair behind your ear. His voice almost a whisper.

“Why don’t you tell me?” He honestly doesn’t know what you are talking about but he also doesn’t even know when he got this close to you. He didn’t realize it. He also didn’t realize how his fingers were playing with your belt, and how your fingertips were running up and down his arms, almost without your knowledge.

“No, it’s more like… something that has to be shown.” Your eyes are fluttering and his chest is brushing with your own body and his lips are some tippy toes away. Your heart is hammering in your chest thanks to your emotions, to the alcohol, and to the heavy tension that hangs in the air, that hangs between the two of you. 

He wobbles in his place for a second, dizzy by just looking down at you. How bad leaning down could be?

But a rough rattling makes the two of you jump in your place, something having hit the side of the house and you wouldn’t be surprised it was either a tree or an infected. He steps away from you, feeling a bit more awkward than courageous now. He had to change the situation back to friendly. He had to. He points at you with the camera, a smile on his lips.

“Pose for me, cowgirl.” You smile widely, heading a few steps back, heading towards the large porcelain horse sculpture in the corner. Steve frowns because, when did that spawn? He shrugs, following you until he sees you pose, holding onto the horse that is standing on two of its feet. He snorts when you pretend to give the horse a kiss, and is that jealousy he feels for a piece of inanimate porcelain?

He swallows when you pull your vest down tighter, a more provocative pose. More skin of yours being revealed, more of your flesh that he wants to touch. He takes a picture and he is trying to think of something else to distract you from taking that last one for himself. He pretends to jump and turn around in his place. 

“What’s in the other rooms? I wonder if Eddie went into one of those.” He lies as he moves away and you jump up, rushing to get the whiskey bottle and following Steve as he holds the flashlight and camera. 

“Wait for me!” You whine. Steve is biting his bottom lip as he looks at the developing picture in the same hand he holds the flashlight. Mission accomplished. He sees you rush forward in front of him and– His eyes stuck to your ass again. You really should stop moving like this. Today is not the best day for you to show off that you look this good in tight jeans.

He sees you open the door from the room that is next to the one you two were just in. 

“Holy fuck…” A plastic wrap covers the entirety of it, protecting it from dust, bugs and humidity. Your eyes open like plates as well, sighing in surprise as you approach the massive mattress. 

Your hands immediately grab onto the plastic and you start ripping it off. Steve walks over to the dresser, wiping the surface off before placing the camera and then the flashlight on it, making it face the ceiling to turn it into a pretend lamp. It is very dim, but it works. He wobbles towards you, helping you with the weight of the plastic wrap. He almost tumbles a few times, which only makes you giggle. Once the plastic is off, you get on the bed, standing in the middle of it with your knees. 

“Sunshine–?” His voice gets cut off when you start bouncing, your hips going up and down and up and down, and your breasts and your body and– 

“Oh, this wasn’t made just for sleeping!” You giggle as if unaware of the images you just gave him. The fucking fantasies that flashed in his mind in a milisecond. You had just conjured images of yourself in many positions and with much less clothes than you had now, and you managed all that by just bouncing on a bed. 

He has to focus. The alcohol is making it all go south. It is going faster by the minute, and he is afraid of not being able to stop it. He feels sweaty, suffocated, and then you plop down on the bed with a huff, taking off the hat, you throw it on the bedside table. Laying on that bed would not be a good idea. Drunk Steve should leave. Drunk Steve should look away. Drunk Steve should leave you alone for the night.

But he can’t control himself. He wants to be near you. He wants to be close to you. So he lies down next to you, looking up at the ceiling. His head starts spinning in a good way, and oh fuck, he is sure having a hangover tomorrow. 

“I’m so fucking drunk that I feel so good, Stevie…” You mumble out, and he smiles, nodding.

“Me too.” He turns on his side to look at you properly, and you are still looking up.

“Does sex feel this good too? I imagine it does.” Your question catches him off guard. Sober Steve would have become nervous and wouldn’t have known what to properly say. He hums, making you look at him.

“It depends.”

“Depends?”

“Mhm. You can have sex, sure, but if the other person only cares for their own pleasure and is selfish? Kinda sucks. Or sex without feelings, that also sucks too.” You are caught off guard by his answer, making you turn on your side to face him. Despite the wide bed, you two are close, too close. Maybe one hand away from each other.

“So, you never had sex just because?” You ask, and he chuckles, nodding.

“I have, that’s why I can tell you that sex like that sucks.” You blink a few times, feeling a lump in your throat. Your head is spinning, and your heart is singing, and you don’t know if it is nausea or butterflies in your belly, but maybe it is a mix.

“And… would you do it again?” His eyes find yours at your question, and one of the qualities alcohol had was that it made you honest.

“Sex without feelings?... No. I wouldn’t, Sunshine.” And for some reason, that answer of his made you want to sigh out of relief. But the answer made you think a bit more, your eyes moving down from his.

“I wouldn’t do it normally… but I don’t think there’s another way for me to experience it… So I guess I would.” His heart plummeted at that. You would give your virginity away if the situation were to present itself. He felt his throat closing up at the thought of it, and rationally he should not care. Rationally, he should nod at it, and if it happened, good for you.

But fuck does he feel sick thinking of the possibility of another man touching you.

The horrible thought gets interrupted when you let out a big sigh, your eyes slowly closing.

“I hope my kids don’t get to see this, the world as it is now.” Your words shock him, making him raise up using his elbow for support, which kind of makes him dizzy.

“You… what kids?” You open your eyes to find his alarmed ones, making you giggle as you shake your head.

“I don’t have kids now! I meant– I meant my future kids, if medicine allows me to have them.” Your giggle dies down when you find him just staring at you. You feel a little intimidated and shy, making you pout. “I like the idea of having kids, sue me! I’m 22 years old!”

His heart becomes a furnace of pure warmth with your words, making his mind feel a little foggy, a little heavy. His eyes drift down for a second towards your belly… just one second. Fuck, oh no.

“I didn’t say anything, I was just surprised.” You see him lay back down with a sigh, staring up at the ceiling. “I want kids too. Six, to be exact.” 

“SIX!?” You yell, the emotion coming out naturally at the surprise. 

"I know, I know, it's a lot and the world isn't the best place to be right now but... I just want a big family. I always did.” He admits to you for the first time. Your eyes are looking at his profile, your mind filled with possibilities, with images of a future that started including little details you never expected.

"That sounds... nice. A big house... with a pool. A dog. Maybe one set of them are twins..." You start with your rambling, your eyes looking up at the ceiling as the image forms right in front of your eyes. Steve smiles, as if connected to you, as if he could see what you were imagining.

"Get to take them to the lake. Buying a suv." You giggle at those words, but nodding nonetheless. He follows you with a chuckle, looking at you at the same time you turn your head to look at him.

"Can't forget the family movie nights." He nods at that, and his voice starts lowering, his stomach flipping into itself as the words slip out of his lips before he could contain them.

"Yeah... and then when the kids are all sleeping, I can finally be alone with... my wife, partner. Have that solitude for each other." And you hum for a minute in thought, not realizing how Steve was looking at you.

"Honestly, with six kids? I think the one thing I would do is sleep." And you giggle but Steve keeps looking at you. Just looking at you.

"Yeah... you would definitely sleep." Steve smiles, still staring at you, never looking away from you, not even when he catches himself thinking of that future with you. Of walking into the living room after putting the last kid to bed, ready to spend the night on the couch with you, only to find you sleeping. The image of that is so endearing to him. His warm smile widens, his chest flutters with warmth. 

You close your eyes, humming at his words. A lazy, yet happy smile lingers on your face as you move closer to him, searching for his warmth, for his touch. 

“You getting tired, sleepy head?” He whispers, his eyes softening as he watches you snuggle up against him. 

You only nod in response. 

Your hand brushes against his, and he looks down, moving without thinking. He envelopes your hand in his, pressing his larger palm against your own. 

You open your eyes, and you are so close now that your nose almost brushes against his. Your breath hitches in your throat as his own does too. 

Steve’s eyes flicker across your face, staying on your lips for longer than they should, for it to mean nothing, for it to be friendly. You look down at his lips too, craving them on your own so badly. 

Your heart skips a beat. You want to kiss him, you want to kiss him so badly. And everything in the way he looks at you, in the way he squeezes your hand as he finally entwines his fingers with your own, tells you that he wants it too. 

And yet, neither of you make the final move. 

Neither of you step over the line that you both want to cross so badly. 

But you won’t lie and say that all his reactions, all his actions tonight, didn’t fill you with confidence. 

For tonight, you move closer, giving him one last smile and a squeeze to his hand before you curl into him, snuggling against his body and tucking your head under his chin. And your confidence only grows when he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you, to squeeze you, and pull you into his embrace. 

And then… he presses his lips to the top of your head, and your final decision is made. 

So maybe you won’t kiss him tonight, but you will kiss him tomorrow. 

☀︎

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[soracities]

Fadwa Tuqan, in A Map of Absence: An Anthology of Palestinian Writing on the Nakba