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springtyme · 10 days

Note

Steve request! Reader dragging dr*gged up S3 Steve and Robin around the mall with Dustin and Erica and every chance he gets to flirt with r he takes (you can totally ignore this if you want!)

𝐓𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐎𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 ♡

Thank you for the request, hun! I loved this idea, and it was so much fun to write <3

Steve Harrington x f!reader || Masterlist || Steve playlist

summary: Throughout your entire friendship with Steve, you've always had terrible timing. But having him confess to you while drugged out of his mind and running from Russian spies might take the cake.

word count: 3.5k

warning/tags: Idiots in love. Childhood best friends. Mention of Steve and Robin being drugged, and Steve's bruises and dried blood. This turned out a lot different and a lot longer than I had first planned, but I do fear I suffer from too much gene. I haven't proofread this, so there might be a few mistakes.

The hum of the fluorescent lights buzz overhead as you try to navigate through the nearly-deserted mall, your heart pounding for reasons beyond the simple adrenaline of running for your life. Your grip on Steve’s arm is firm, trying your best to keep him steady while keeping an eye on Dustin and Erica who are leading Robin after you.

“C’mon, Steve,” you huff as Steve stumbles over his own feed. He is leaning against you, his usually bright eyes glazed over but still sparkling with mischief. He is truly an absurd sight right now in his Scoops Ahoy uniform, a goofy grin on his heavily bruised face. He has patches of dried blood at the corner of his mouth and on his chin, and the area around his right eye is purple and swollen. Having him drugged out of his mind is far from ideal right now, and you hate not knowing what they injected him with, but you can’t help but feel a little thankful that whatever it is seems t o take his pain. “We have to keep moving.”

Steve lets out a soft chuckle, the sound slightly slurred, yet still unmistakably sweet to your ears. “You’re really taking charge here, huh? Who knew you could be so bossy?” he teases, leaning a little too heavily against you, making you stumble a little to the side. You roll your eyes at his playfulness, trying to focus on the task at hand which Steve seemingly doesn’t have a single concern over right now.

“Yeah, yeah, bossy but effective,” you shoot back, glancing over your shoulder to make sure the kids and Robin are still behind you, before giving Steve a little push to keep him moving.

He just giggles, flashing you that charming smile that always makes your heart skip a beat—even now, with the haze of whatever the Russians had pumped him full of filtering his brain. “Very effective,” he replies, his voice a drunken whisper as he leans closer, as if sharing a delightful secret.

“What the hell did they give you two?” you mutter as you stumble slightly to the side from Steve’s weight before catching yourself.

“I don’t know,” he says, stretching his arms out dramatically, nearly losing his balance again. “But I like it!” he declares, throwing his head back and laughing.

“I like it too!” Robin chimes in from behind, her voice slightly loopy and higher than usual as she, too, joins in on Steve’s laughing fit. You try to shush them, but your warning only fuels their giggles.

The sound of their laughter echoes through the, luckily nearly-empty, corridor of the mall you’re currently navigating. You huff in frustration, trying to maintain your composure amid the surreality of the moment, glancing around to ensure no one is noticing. “Guys, shh! We don’t want to attract any attention.”

When Steve leans in again, his breath is warm against your ear, making it increasingly difficult to focus. “I think you’re the one attracting all the attention,” he whispers, a teasing smirk on his lips as he fixes you with a gaze that manages to be both hazy yet intense. The closeness of his body to yours sends a jolt of warmth pulsing through you, even amid the chaos surrounding your group.

“Can you not flirt right now, Steve? We’re literally dodging a Russian military operation!” Dustin exclaims in exasperation from a few paces behind, his frustration evident as he pulls Robin along, who’s still hanging on to some bizarre delight in the situation.

“Stop being jealous, Henderson,” Steve shoots back playfully as he sways slightly, and you have to quickly adjust to keep him from toppling over. “Just because your so-called girlfriend is all the way in Utah.” He points dramatically back at Dustin, making Robin break out in laughter again.

“Focus, guys!” you insist, your voice low but firm. “Just follow me and try to stay quiet, okay?” You force yourself to focus on the path ahead, but every other second you glance to the side at Steve. He winks at you this time, the move so exaggerated that it comes off as almost comical, a poorly executed attempt at charm.

“Oh, I’ll always follow you, to the end of the world,” he slurs.

“If you say so,” you murmur, which makes Steve knit his eyebrows, doing his best to appear thoughtful, though it only makes him appear more ridiculous.

“Well, can you blame me? You’re the best,” he declares, sincerity mixed with the haze of his drugged state. “And, not to mention, like… the coolest girl in Hawkins.”

“Shut up, Steve,” you huff, trying to ignore how flustered his compliment makes you feel.

“Are you gonna make me?” he challenges, raising an eyebrow before stumbling again and you have to swiftly tuck him back under your arm to keep him upright. You barely manage to catch him this time, your heart racing as he leans into you completely, resting his head against your shoulder.

“Just stay on your feet, okay?” you say, your voice carrying a mix of annoyance and affection. You truly can’t believe what’s happening right now.

You have been in love with Steve for what feels like a lifetime, having to watch him date and break up with countless girls, without him ever once seeming to realize the way you felt about him. But now, in a moment where he’s utterly out of it, after being drugged by Russian spies and running for your lives, he flirts with you. It feels like a cruel joke.

“Okay, okay, I will stay on my feet,” Steve promises, straightening up (or at least attempting to) and puffing out his chest in an attempted display of bravado. It’s a strangely endearing sight, one that almost makes you forget, for a split second, the insane situation you’re fleeing.

The four of you keep moving, dodging through the mall until you finally spot a small storage room with a heavy door slightly ajar and you make a quick decision. The Russians took Steve’s car keys and Steve and Robin are still way too out of it, you need a break from running around so you can figure out what to do.

“Erica, Dustin, we’re going in here,” you instruct, pulling the door open wider and pushing Steve inside before ushering Robin in with a gentle nudge, making sure Dustin and Erica follow closely behind before joining them, shutting the door behind you, the lock clicking into place.

Inside, the air is heavy with the scent of dust and industrial cleaner, and the dim light offers a brief reprieve from the chaos outside. Steve and Robin slumps against the wall, chuckling, seemingly entertained by the situation.

“Are you two okay?” you ask, turning towards Dustin and Erica.

“Yeah, we are fine, but those two?” Erica says, hands on her hips as she looks over at Steve and Robin who are giggling to each other with the kind of carefree joy that can only really come from being blissfully unaware of the danger surrounding them.

“Are you two okay?” you ask, more pointedly this time, directing your concern towards Steve and Robin.

They briefly pause their laughter, turning their silly, unfocused gazes to you, their expressions shifting from amusement to a classic ‘who, us?’ look.

“More than okay. I feel amazing!” Robin announces with a giggle, her voice a bit too loud for the cramped space, her laughter filling the confined space. She barely seems aware of the tension in the air, her cheeks flushed from the adrenaline and whatever the Russians had spiked her with. You, on the other hand, take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart and the whirlwind of emotions inside you.

“Well, there’s your answer, they are okay too,” you say, trying to keep your composure. They are clearly not okay, but there is not much you can do about it right now, most likely the drug will start to wear off sooner or later and all you can do is wait for that. In the meantime you have to figure out what to do.

“Dustin help me move this crate,” you direct, pointing to a heavy storage crate in the corner. “Erica make sure those two stay put and somewhat quiet,” you say, trying to sound authoritative .

After a little bit of struggle you and Dustin get the crate and get the door barricaded before he joins Erica and the others and you take an inventory of the room—cleaning supplies, an old mop, and shelves lined with boxes. Nothing particularly useful to escape a Russian army, but at least it’s quiet.

You have just peaked your head out of a box, in which you finally had found something useful, as Steve, who apparently had maneuvered over to you, tries to lean on a shelf, but ends up leaning too heavily and almost toppling down. You rush forward to catch him before he hits the ground, your heart racing as you feel the warmth of his body against yours.

“Whoa, careful,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. The way he grins at you is both charming and infuriating, a painful reminder of why your heart races despite the absurdity of your current situation. “I thought I told you to stay put,” you scold gently, trying to mask the concern lacing your voice with a little frustration.

“I missed you,” he replies, resting his head against the shelf beside you, the admission slipping out with an exaggerated, almost theatrical sweetness.

“I was only a few feet away, Steve,” you remind him.

“I know, but… you were still too far away,” he responds, tilting his head to meet your eyes, his gaze is a little more lucid, he is still out of it, but there is an earnestness that transcends any drug haze. “And I told you I’d follow you to the end of the world, remember.” There’s honesty in his tone that tugs at your heartstrings, and for a moment, you’re taken aback by his words.

“That’s sweet, Steve,” you say, giving him a little smile, which he reciprocates tenfold, clearly pleased to have garnered a smile from you. “Now look what I found,” you say, pulling out the first aid kit you had found from the box you were rummaging through before.

“Uuuh,” he drawls as he leans closer, inspecting the kit with an hindering interest.

“Wanna come here and sit with me?” you ask, gesturing over to the crate by the door.

“Always,” he replies, grinning as he attempts to maneuver himself but ends up colliding with the shelf instead. You can’t help but laugh a little as you reach out to steady him again, your hands brushing against his sides as you guide him over to the crest and help him sit down.

“I’m gonna clean you up a little, is that okay?” you ask softly, clicking open the first aid kit, trying your best to try ignoring the chaos that lingers just outside the door.

“That would be nice... You’re so nice,” he replies, before resting his head back against the wall, a goofy smile plastered on his face as he looks up at you with such admiration that it feels like the world has shrunk down to just the two of you in that dimly lit storage room. You feel that familiar rush of affection as you watch him. Drugged or not, he radiates that special warmth that brings a flutter to your heart.

“Okay, this might hurt a little, but try not to move, I promise to be gentle,” you say, pulling open an antiseptic wipe. You take a moment to steel yourself, your heart sinking as you study the bruises that mar his otherwise perfectly chiseled features. It must hurt, but he seems completely unfazed by it, lost in the bliss of his inebriated state.

“Oh, you’re always gentle with me, even when you’re mean.” His voice is filled with a warm admiration. You can’t help but roll your eyes, a smile creeping onto your lips as you dab the antiseptic wipe against a cut on his cheek.

“When am I ever mean to you?” you ask him, focusing on wiping the blood from his chin while trying to ignore the way his gaze makes the air feel thick with unsaid emotions.

Steve chuckles softly, the sound warm and syrupy in the dim light of the storage room. “You’re always calling me an idiot, and you give me that look—” he pauses, his hazy expression suddenly serious, though it’s still marred by a goofy smile.

You frown, momentarily caught off guard by his sudden shift in demeanor. “What look?” you ask, your brows knitting together in confusion.

“That one! The one that says I’m a total dork who couldn’t find his own feet without you,” he replies, his tone teasing but somehow more sincere than usual. He tilts his head slightly, trying to penetrate the fog of the drug clouding his thoughts. “But, I know what you really mean. You just care. Besides, I like when you’re mean. It’s pretty hot…”

Your heart skips a beat at his admission. He’s always known just how to get under your skin, but this is different—this feels more intimate, more real, especially given the current circumstances. “You might only think that because you’re high,” you counter, trying to play it cool despite the heat creeping up your neck and cheeks.

He knits his brows, looking up at you like you just gave him the world’s meanest insult. “Nah, I mean it,” he insists, his eyes wide and sincere, though still glazed with that loopy energy.

“Maybe keep that thought for when you’re not under the influence of whatever crap those Russians gave you. I doubt you would say all this.” You carefully dab at his split lip, your fingers brushing against his skin, feeling the warmth radiating from him. Somehow, it all feels surreal—this moment shared in the darkness, just you and Steve.

“Doesn’t matter, really. Even if they hadn’t—” He pauses, searching your eyes, and for the first time, you can’t help but notice the flicker of something deeper in his gaze. “I would’ve said it anyway. You have always been the one, you know?”

Your breath catches in your throat—what does he mean by ‘the one?’ You blink, trying to find your voice. “Steve—”

“No, wait. Let me finish,” he interrupts, shifting closer, entirely oblivious to the way butterflies have taken flight in your stomach. “I don’t know if we are getting caught by Russian spies, so please listen,” he says earnestly, and in that drugged haze, it feels deeply sincere, stripped of pretense or playful banter.

“I know I’ve been a total idiot when it comes to, well… everything, but especially with you. I just… I was scared. Scared to ruin our friendship.”

You hold your breath, caught up in the gaze of the boy you’ve loved for as long as you can remember. A part of you wants to stop him, to put your hands over his mouth and make him stop spilling his unfiltered, drug induced thoughts, but you feel like you’re frozen.

“Even when I was a total jerk in high school, even when I was wrapped up in all those other girls, I always wanted it to be you. You’re… special to me. You always have been. You always save me from myself, you know? And not just today... but like, all the time.” His voice lowers to a near whisper as if he is sharing a secret that only the two of you exist to hear.

Your heart races, a torrent of emotions coursing through you. The words are both a balm and a weight, wrapping around you tightly.

“Steve… I…” You struggle for the right words as the weight of their significance swings like a pendulum between you. You love him, have done for years, and hearing him voice sentiments that resonate so deeply makes your heart ache—in a good way, but still aching hard. “Why would you think you’d ruin our friendship?” you ask, your voice gentle but firm. You’d buried your feelings for so long, only to have them rise unfiltered at this moment.

“I thought—” He sighs, running a hand through his messy, yet somehow still perfect, hair, an absent gesture still filled with that same childhood charm you had known since you were kids. “I thought that I’d never be able to look at you if you didn’t feel the same way.” He chuckles softly, but it’s tinged with an undercurrent of sadness. “But now, I think—I mean, right now it feels like that doesn’t really matter. I have an assumption that I might be a little bit out of it right now, but I’m not that out of it, like… I am still here, in front of you. And if I die today because those Russians catch us, I just… I need you to know that you’ve always been the one for me, ‘cause I don’t want to die, or end up in a gulag, without you knowing that.”

His confession hangs in the air between you like a fragile thread—part of you fears that it may unravel at any moment. Your pulse quickens as you dare to let yourself bask in the warmth of what he is saying. A weight lifts from your shoulders, giving way to a sense of hope you hadn’t anticipated.

“You wouldn’t ruin anything, Steve. I promise.” You take his hand in yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I think we will have to talk about this later though, when we aren’t fleeing for our lives. But thank you for telling me.”

“Yeah… yeah, definitely later,” he agrees, a mix of urgency and longing mixing in the hazy look lining his features.

You interlace your fingers, giving his hand another squeeze. If you’re actually making it out of this crazy situation, and when Steve isn’t drugged out of his mind and can confirm that he actually meant all that he just said, you’re gonna kiss him silly. But for now, the moment hangs in the air like a delicate suspension bridge, strung tightly between adrenaline and longing, with the threat of the outside world looming just beyond the door.

“Uhm, are you two good?” Erica interrupts, her voice cutting through the thick tension in the air. You whip your head around to find her standing with her arms crossed, raised eyebrow, looking way too sassy for a ten year old. Robin is propped against the far wall, watching with wide eyes and a goofy grin plastered on her face.

“Yeah, we’re good,” you respond quickly, feeling a hot flush rush to your cheeks as you release Steve’s hand, the warmth of his skin lingering even as you separate.

Steve shifts, nudging you playfully with his shoulder as he leans back against the wall. “Just bonding over our collective trauma, you know?” he says, his tone light but his eyes still holding that depth, the seriousness lingering just beneath the surface.

“Right, because that’s totally normal,” Dustin mutters sarcastically, eyeing the two of you with a knowing look. “Just keep it PG. Kissing isn’t going to save us from the Russians.”

“We weren’t kissing,” you exclaim immediately, your heart racing as you avoid making eye contact with Steve, who wears a grin that communicates far too much mischief for your sanity.

“Oh, please,” Erica scoffs, rolling her eyes. “We all saw you two get all mushy. If we weren’t in the middle of a hostage situation, I might actually find it cute.” Robin giggles beside her, clearly entertained by the unfolding drama.

“Shut up, guys,” you mutter, suddenly very much aware of the heat flooding your veins. You can feel Steve’s gaze on you, and even in his loopy state, there’s an intensity that makes your stomach flutter. The last thing you need is the audience right now, especially when it involves Dustin and a ten-year-old like Erica, who take far too much joy in teasing you about this kind of stuff.

“Okay, lovebirds,” Robin slurs out with a giggle, leaning her head against the wall with a dreamy smile. “At least we know you’re safe together. Just don’t let those spy guys catch you making out in here. That would be truly embarrassing.”

“Thanks, Robin,” you reply dryly, your cheeks still flushed with heat. The absurdity of being stuck in a storage room, surrounded by your friends while hiding from Russian agents, yet feeling like the most pivotal moment of your life is unfolding, is almost laughable.

“Can we please focus on survival rather than on whatever is going on right now?” Dustin groans, exasperated.

“We most certainly can,” you reply, helping Steve, who keeps looking at you like you hung the moon, up from the crate and onto his feet again, but you keep your fingers interlocked as you help him over to the others again.

Thank you for reading! Reblogs and comments are always greatly appreciated ♡

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lvlybin · 25 days

Text

𖦹 ̼ ᮫ JUNOᘞ̸⠀ ׁ ₊ SUNG HAN BIN

૮ ྀི◞ ⸝⸝ ◟ ྀིა you thank your lucky stars that Sung Hanbin was brought into your life. you’re even more grateful that you both have made it this far: marriage, home, jobs… the only thing that’s missing are tiny versions of you both and he’s more than happy to provide 18+ MDNI

( first part of my short n sweet mini series )

wc 5187 ! 🎧ྀི ♡⸝⸝ sung hanbin x f!reader , non-idol au

an a/n 🧾 I feel insane for writing this >_< literally just something about this man I guess… enjoy my loves . . . warnings under the cut !

warnings p in v sex, unprotected sex, so. much. baby talk, heavy heavy breeding kink, semi-public sex, phone sex, oral f!receieving, fingering, nipple play, clit play, bulge kink?, talks of periods and ovulating

“You’re so lucky to have a boyfriend like him,” was always the first thing people told you when they would meet Hanbin. The way their eyes would scan over him: his pretty face and kind smile as he greeted them, a hand resting on the small of your back to make it clear to the person that both you and him were taken. If he weren’t so polite, barely uttering a word or two to a friend of yours, you would’ve gotten jealous at how much attention he attracted. But of course, his mother had raised him to have a personality that would fit the perfect genes his father had given him.

It was easy to assume that he was out of your league, especially when you first met him, although he never made you feel that way. Hanbin made sure you knew how you were the only one for him–how you were the only woman who had the entirety of his being and praised you for simply existing. And the truth was, you really were lucky. Lucky to have found someone capable of so much love and someone that complimented you like he was made for you. It was as if the two of you were cut from the same cloth because even from the first interaction, he understood you better than anyone else and when he had laughed, those cute whisker dimples appearing on his skin, you were a goner.

“YN won the lottery,” your best friend had laughed when you had shown her the picture of the man who had asked you on a date after the smallest interaction in the coffee shop.

Laying on her bed, fuzzy socks clad on your feet and 13 Going on 30 playing in the background, you had popped another kernel of popcorn in your mouth as you rolled closer to her. “Right?” as you take your phone back from her, another text from Hanbin alerted on your screen. You grinned, “I don’t know what I did in my past life, but I am grateful for it now.”

Your friend laughs as she sinks into the pillows at the head of her bed, “Keep working that magic to make him fall in love with you.”

“I don’t know, he already seemed head-over-heels when he asked me out.”

She scoffed as Jennifer Garner kissed a young Mark Ruffalo on the TV.

“That’s gonna be you guys someday, getting married. God, YN, I swear if you don’t marry that man–”

“Shh, I just met him,” you giggled and your friend offered her free hand to you.

Halfheartedly, you high-fived her. “Exactly. The rest of it should be easy.”

And it was. The next night with Hanbin only solidified it, and being with him finally introduced you to what a loving, healthy relationship should be. You made each other happy, and it was like no other person existed to the two of you. Years passed, and you both graduated from university, got a place together, and moved in, settling down and solidifying your jobs.

None of your friends were surprised when Hanbin popped the question to you privately on the deck of the overwater bungalow you were staying in on your fourth-anniversary trip to Fiji. Or at the fact that you had said yes.

It was a dream come true getting married to him. Your wedding day was everything you had wanted since you were a little girl, especially the groom, and for two more years, the two of you were enough. Until Hanbin started talking about getting you pregnant.

Folded at the waist over the marble countertop of your shared kitchen, your husband groans loudly as he buries his length deep inside of you again. Your walls flutter weakly around him, his pace slow and harsh as you feel the veins of his length drag along the inside of your cunt. Hanbin’s grip against the back of your waist is bruising and all you can do is call out his name as one of his hands reaches around you to push against your lower stomach, feeling himself push into you again and again.

The pressure has you seeing stars and Hanbin coos softly, “Yeah, baby, let me take care of you… I’ll take such good care of you, just let go and feel it for me.”

“Binnie!” you cry out, feeling that coil inside you getting ready to snap and Hanbin pants heavily.

“‘M here, my love, I’m here,” he gasps out, thumb brushing over the hardened bud of your clit and you don’t have to see him to know he’s smirking as your orgasm hits you. As you ride out your high, his hand drifts over the soft part of skin just above your mound, his hips slamming into yours much faster.

“You’d look so pretty pregnant,” he mutters under his breath and you gasp softly. “Wanna put a baby in you, breed you so good and see your tummy get round–” Hanbin has to stop himself and he lets out a choked moan. The overstimulation’s beginning to hit you, but you can’t find yourself to care, your fuzzy mind filled with thoughts of him having you in a way no one has had you before. No one other than him would be able to have you.

“Give it to me,” you grit out, slowly losing what little you have left of your composure. “I’ll give you a baby–”

He’s releasing inside of you before you can utter anything else.

It only gets worse after that impromptu session that random Wednesday morning. You knew Hanbin had great stamina, but clearly, you underestimated how high his sex drive could actually get. More often than not you were waking up with his head between your thighs, his tongue lazily flicking your clit as he begged you to give him some relief before he had to leave for the day. He had you working your hips over him whenever you tried to sit next to him on the couch, had your mouth around him while he was driving you both home from work, was joining you in the shower any chance he got–he was insatiable.

Things increased tenfold when you both attended your niece’s fourth birthday party. It was strange to you that throughout the few hours you’d spent there, Hanbin hadn’t approached you once, opting to spend time with your brother-in-law and father, which was extremely unlike him. Normally, he would be attached to your hip, but it was your niece who was held in your arms for those few hours, demanding your whole attention. You missed the way Hanbin��s eyes darkened just in the slightest as you so effortlessly picked up your niece, speaking to her softly and making her laugh.

It was so natural for you, and Hanbin felt that small voice in the back of his head that had been steadily growing louder the past few weeks finally snap. If he got any closer to see you like this, he wouldn’t be able to contain himself, so he watched you from a distance. The image painted in his mind of your niece having his nose, your eyes, his face shape, your smile– it was almost too much to bear. He was tense for the rest of the birthday party. And for the entirety of the car ride home.

Later that night, after you had already gotten ready for bed, sitting between the sheets as you waited for Hanbin to finish up in the bathroom while scrolling on your phone was when he finally brought the topic up.

“What d’you think about having kids?” he’d asked through the open bathroom door. The words caused you to look up from your phone immediately, your heart racing.

“I want them,” you started softly. “They’re a big responsibility though, I don’t just want to rush right into it…”

His head popped out from around the edge of the door and he looked so adorable, hair a fluffy mess and skin shining a bit from the moisturizer he’d just applied. “...Could we maybe start thinking about having them?”

You turn your phone off as the corners of your lips twitch into a smile, “How long have you been thinking about this, Bin?” His cheeks turn a light shade of pink as he turns off the light in the bathroom, entering the bedroom. You laugh softly as he shrugs and practically throws himself onto the bed.

“A while…” he admits shyly, burying his face into your stomach, your shirt separating him from your bare skin. “I want it so bad, though. I’m in love with you, I’ll always be in love with you, and I want you to be the mother of my children.”

“You can’t just say that–”

He laughs, “But it’s true!”

You’re silent for a moment, running your fingers through his hair, the sensation helping you gather your thoughts. When he looks up at you, eyes wide and pleading, you feel your resolve crumble, “Please?”

How are you supposed to say no to that?

“Well…” You have to look straight ahead, avoiding eye contact with him as you voice your thoughts for the sole point of not getting distracted. “We both want kids… and we’re financially stable…” Hanbin lets out soft hums of agreement at each thing you list, moving up your body until his face is right next to yours.

“Please let me get you pregnant.”

“Hanbin–” You try, but his lips are pressing against your neck and suddenly it’s so much harder to think.

“You’d look so pretty. Your belly full of our child and you wouldn’t have to lift a finger.” He mouths at a sensitive spot of skin and you arch your back to press your body closer to his. “I’d take such good care of you…”

“I’d… I’d still have to get off the pill.”

Hanbin chuckles, “I’d love you so good that your birth control wouldn’t stand a chance.” You let out a noise somewhere between a giggle and a moan as he pulls away from your neck, a smile on his face as you make eye contact with him.

“Then consider it done,” you whisper to him just before his lips meet yours.

The next day, you turn off your alarm for when you’re supposed to take the pill, and Hanbin’s more than happy to throw the little foil packet into the trash. And to fuck you on the bathroom counter afterward.

The first week of being off of birth control you get your period. It’s surprisingly nowhere as near as heavy as you expected, but it’s still annoying to deal with, except for Hanbin being the angel he is and comforting you through the first two days of the subtle pain. Bringing you your favorite snacks, cuddling you whenever you asked for it, and giving you massages. Even though this level of care was nothing new, Hanbin hadn’t hesitated to bring up how this was his practice for when you were pregnant. You had rolled your eyes at his words.

But when you start ovulating, it’s torture. The worst it’s been in a while, actually, and sitting at work all day, mind running a thousand miles a minute with thoughts of Hanbin, Hanbin, Hanbin and you wish you’d never gotten off of the pill. You shift in your seat, unable to focus on anything as you feel your panties cling to you, the slightest movement making you want to scream out in frustration.

when’re you gonna be done with work tonight?

Your husband responds almost immediately:

Around 5

Why?

You grumble a little, sending him another message and trying to be as blunt as possible.

I’m so horny Hanbin

can’t believe I actually listened to you and went off the pill this is horrible

The three little dots appear and bounce around for a few moments only for four little words to pop up on your screen.

Go to the bathroom

You’re getting up from your desk immediately, making your way to the family restroom and locking the door behind you just as Hanbin’s contact appears on your phone. You don’t hesitate to answer his call.

“Is it that bad?” is the first thing he asks and you squeeze your eyes shut, rubbing your temples with your free hand.

“Maybe I’m being a little dramatic, but I cannot focus on anything for the life of me– Hey, don’t laugh.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he gets out between the sweet sounds of his laughter. Just hearing his voice is already making you feel better. He’s quiet for a moment after his chuckles die down, “Do you want help?”

A rush of arousal goes through you, “Please.”

“Okay, honey do whatever you need to do and I’ll stay on the phone with you–”

“Just– Keep talking,” you breathe out, your hand that’s not holding your phone undoing the button of your pants so you would have enough room to slip your hand into your panties. He laughs softly again and the sound practically has you gushing all over the fabric of your clothes.

Your fingers run through the wetness growing at your entrance, making sure you have enough lubrication before you begin circling your clit. “Oh, my sweet girl… You’re so good for me. Doing all of this so we can have a family.” You let out a small whimper and Hanbin coos gently, his voice low and intimate.

“I’ll make it so worth it, baby. You’re not gonna be leaving our bed at all tonight.” Your breaths are coming out in soft pants, struggling to control yourself as your movements quicken and your hips buck to meet your hand, practically humping your fingers. “‘M gonna come in you over and over and over again so there’s no chance that you won’t be pregnant by tomorrow.”

Your voice is breathy and you have to bite your tongue to stay quiet, “Please Binnie.”

“Tell me what you’re doing.” You swallow down a moan.

“Rubbing my clit. Trying to do it like you do but it’s hard,” you complain, trying to stay as quiet as possible as you run a finger over the hardened bud, only drawing yourself closer to your release.

“I’m here, baby, just keep doing what feels good,” Hanbin encourages and if your head wasn’t the slightest bit fuzzy, you would probably be able to hear the strain in his voice. You press a little harder and you feel your high beginning to creep up on you, leaning your head back against the bathroom wall.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whisper, holding on just for the sake of waiting for his permission.

Hanbin hums, “It’s okay, my sweet girl, let go.”

Your orgasm washes over you instantly and your teeth sink into the side of your cheek to prevent you from crying out, Hanbin’s soft praises helping you ride out the length of your high. When you finally calm down, Hanbin’s the first to speak.

“Feel better.” You smile weakly. “Much. Thank you.”

He chuckles, “It’s the least I can do. Are you sure you’re gonna be okay for the rest of the day?”

You pull your phone away from your face to look at the time, “Just a few more hours. If I need anything else I’ll just call you again.” The smile in his voice is evident.

“I hope you would,” he pauses for a moment. “I love you.”

It’s your turn to smile, it’s almost subconsciously, but you can’t help it. “I love you. I’ll see you when you come to pick me up.”

“I’ll see you soon,” he repeats back to you, before you end the call, giving yourself a moment alone to catch your breath and try to get your hormones under control.

Surprisingly, you’re able to get some things done for the rest of the day. Maybe it’s the motivation from being able to see your husband in just a few hours, but time doesn’t pass by nearly as slow as it did in the morning. Finally, you clock out, entering the parking garage after Hanbin messages you that he’d arrived. You’d never been so relieved to see his car in your life. And your heart rate increases tenfold when he gets out of the driver’s side, you traveling the short few steps before wrapping your arms around him tightly. The velvety sandalwood scent that clings to him infiltrates your senses and you let out a deep sigh, relaxing immediately.

He rubs your back, kissing your head softly, “I missed you.”

“Missed you more.” You pull away slightly to peck him on the lips, “Let’s go home?” At your suggestive tone, Hanbin smirks a little, never letting go of you as he makes his way around the front of the car, opening the passenger's side door for you.

“Let’s.”

You’ve never wanted to teleport so badly in your life, the car ride back to the house feeling like it stretched on longer than your entire work day. The best you could do to distract yourself from the longing growing inside of you again was watch as the city passed by, doing everything in your power to not look over at your husband because his hand resting on your thigh was more than enough. You figured that Hanbin must be as sexually frustrated as you, or at least the smallest bit with the way his fingers began to dig into your skin and the brief image of him gripping the steering wheel tightly. But to your disappointment, his impeccable control was still intact when you both entered your house.

Hanbin hadn’t pushed you up against the wall or bent you over the nearest surface, he’d simply taken off his shoes, then your own before walking towards the kitchen. You gaped a little, eventually following him while wondering what happened to that desperate man from a few weeks ago. All you could do was watch in disbelief as Hanbin dug around in the fridge, getting out some leftovers and warming them up before placing them in front of you.

“Eat.” You were getting tired of his one-word commands as you slid into one of the seats at the island counter, beginning to eat quickly. “Slow down a little, honey, I don’t want you to choke,” he laughed softly, reaching to hold your wrist and force you to relax your movements.

You tilt your head, “Hanbin.” He responds with a soft hum. “Do you really have to draw this out even more?”

“Do you remember what I said on the phone earlier?”

Carefully, you eat another mouthful of the food before answering, “That you were gonna take care of me.”

“I did say that,” he agrees, leaning on the counter with his hands. “What I meant, though, was how I’m not letting you leave our bed tonight.”

Oh. You didn’t think it was possible to feel even more turned on.

“And you’re not going to, so eat.” Your face flushes as you hesitantly resume eating. His warm brown eyes never leave you as the contents of the plate slowly disappear, and when you swallow the final bite, Hanbin is taking the plate away. He sets it by the sink and then before you can process where he is, you’re in his arms and his lips are pressing harshly against yours.

It’s like he’s trying to consume you as his mouth melds so perfectly against your own, his tongue slipping past your lips when you gasp at the suddenness to swirl around your mouth. You grip onto his shoulders tightly, scrunching his shirt under your palms as his hands find the undersides of your thighs, squeezing the skin as he begins to walk. The moments where he pulls away from kissing you are short-lived, only meant for taking in small breaths and to make sure he wasn’t going to run into a wall. He shifts your weight against him as he pushes the door to your bedroom open.

Your feet find the floor and Hanbin’s holding your face with his hand as his taste continues to fill your mouth, making your brain cloudy and full of thoughts of just him, him, him. Gently, you push at his chest, breaking the kiss to catch your breath, a small string of spit connecting your mouths. Hanbin smiles and your heart almost beats out of your chest.

His hands slide under the bottom of your shirt, caressing the soft skin of your waist as he begins guiding you backward.

“Needed you so badly today. You sounded so pretty on the phone my dick was hard for hours,” he groans before his lips land on your neck. Hanbin bites softly, leaving marks all over the expanse of your skin and when his teeth brush against a particularly sensitive spot, you yelp. His breath is warm against your neck as he sucks at the spot harshly before pulling away.

“Want it, Bin, want it so bad– Need you inside me.”

“Be patient,” he mumbles, but with the way his hands are instantly pulling at the hem of your shirt, you can tell that he doesn’t want to wait either. “And be careful with what you say.” His tone is heavy with lust as you fall back against the covers of your bed, the sheets a mess since neither of you had bothered to make it that morning.

“Either way I’m gonna get what I want,” you say as he tugs the straps of your bra down, muttering a few words of annoyance as he reaches behind you to undo the clasp.

His hands feel so big as he pulls the clothing in, his cheeks turning pink as he drinks in the sight of your bare chest. “And what is it you want?”

“Want your baby.” Hanbin practically groans at the three words, mouth lowering to the top of your tits to trail soft kisses in a horizontal line across them both.

A small moan leaves your lips, “Sounds like you want it as much as I do.” His pink lips are wrapping around one of your nipples, running his tongue over the bud and sucking to erect the nerves.

“‘M gonna make you a dad.” His fingers pinch harshly at your other nipple, which he quickly soothes by running the pad of his thumb over it. It was almost like a warning, but all it made you do was rub your thighs together, wanting more friction. When Hanbin removes himself from your nipple, it already feels sore, the skin red as he kisses it quickly. Then the other.

“Can’t wait to see your tits get all swollen. You gonna let me massage them? Let me make you feel better while your body grows our baby?”

“Yes,” you groan out eagerly, arching your back slightly to press your body closer to his.

“I know, baby, I know,” he reassures, rubbing your nipples in small circles as he kisses his way down your stomach. “You’re gonna be so relaxed, you’re gonna feel so good that you won’t even care how full you’re gonna be with my cum.”

“Please, Binnie,” you whine as his hands leave your breasts to undo your pants, pulling them down your legs impatiently along with your panties. He hums a little as his hands gently guide your thighs apart.

His thumb dips into your entrance just the smallest bit, collecting your wetness before spreading it all around your pussy, avoiding your clit. “Relax,” he repeats, kissing your inner thigh before wrapping his lips around your clit. Hanbin’s tongue flicks quickly over your most sensitive spot, making you cry out and your hand shoots down to hold him against you.

“You taste so good,” he mumbles against you, and the vibration has you reeling, bucking your hips toward his face. The tip of his tongue teases you, gently moving the bud back and forth as you feel spit run down from your clit to your entrance, making your opening even more messy. Hanbin sucks on the hard little nub as his middle finger begins to work its way into you, the thrusts deep and slow as he eases you open. The sounds of his finger pumping into your pussy and his slurping against your clit make you cry out louder, and you prop yourself up onto one of your elbows to get a better view of him.

His eyes are already on you, pupils blown wide. “You’re so pretty, Binnie. Mouth feels s’good,” you slur, running your hand through his hair, and your praise has him pushing another finger into you. “God! Make me cum, Bin– Make me cum,” you whine as he stops sucking on you, flattening his tongue and lapping at you, fingers speeding up and curling so perfectly that your wetness is gushing around him.

Every time he eats you out, he acts like a starved man. Desperate for your attention and desperate for your pleasure as he ruts against the bed every so slightly, eyes falling shut as he takes your clit back into his mouth. The pressure has you practically sobbing and you feel yourself clench around his digits when a third finger brushes against your hole.

“Y’gonna cum already?” Hanbin teases and you let out a frustrated grumble.

“I’ve been waiting for this all day, don’t tease me.”

He thrusts his fingers into you roughly and you’re falling apart around him, his thumb resting on your clit to give you enough friction to enjoy your orgasm as his face comes back to hover over yours.

“Was thinking about your pussy all day too, baby, no need to get angry.”

“‘M not angry, I just need you to fuck me.” Hanbin chuckles and his lips meet yours in an opened mouth kiss, the taste of you heavy on his tongue. He pulls away just enough to slip his shirt over his head as your shaking, weak hands fumble with his belt. Soothingly, he kisses you again, taking your hands in his own and placing them on his shoulders before he takes care of the rest of his clothes himself.

You want to cry in relief when you feel his tip run along your entrance, collecting the wetness that had seeped out of you from your previous orgasm. “Ready?”

“Please,” you whine and Hanbin doesn’t hesitate to slowly push his length into you. Both of you are moaning as he fills you up, that itch you’d needed to scratch all day finally subsiding as the weight of him rests inside your pussy, letting you adjust around him. You both kiss lazily for a moment as you relax. “You can move,” you finally whisper into his mouth.

Hanbin’s hands wrap around your calves gently as he guides them towards your face, your thighs pressing against your chest and allowing him to get deeper inside of you as he begins to fuck into you. “My wife, only for me, right?”

He starts at a borderline painfully slow pace, getting lost in the feeling of your velvety walls wrapped around him so tightly and enjoying how you’re pinned underneath him. Your hands clutch at the sheets beneath you, mouth falling open at the steadiness and precision his hips have as his knees dig into the mattress.

“Only– f’you, Binnie!”

“Mhm.” And if it weren’t for the way his eyebrows are slightly furrowed, you would think your fluttering walls around him weren’t even affecting him. “All mine. All mine to love, and to fuck, and to get pregnant.”

“Ah!” You cry out as he begins forcing into you at a faster pace. “Yes! Need it~ Need you to fill me up–”

“Keep your eyes on me,” Hanbin demands, his drag along your walls ruthless and everything feels so intimate. His fingers find your clit again, rubbing it harshly and flicking it side to side, trying to build up your pleasure so you can’t focus on anything else. He pulls out to the tip, pushing into you again and he feels a rush of your arousal spill around his length, causing him to moan as well. “Want this forever, baby. You don’t understand–”

“Yes, please, forever,” you blabber, so dick-drunk and gone already. He chuckles, tongue slipping out to lick at the sweat building up on his upper lip. “Baby… Baby~”

“I know, sweet girl, I’m gonna give it to you,” Hanbin reassures, hand leaving your calf to press against your abdomen. “Feel how deep I am? That’s where I’m gonna finish, ‘s where you’re gonna get all round and full with our baby and– Fuck,” he curses, feeling you clench tightly around him.

He looks at your dazed eyes, love evident in his expression and it almost feels like it’s too much. But you want it, you want it so bad, the images of him holding your baby consuming your mind and you pant out little, ‘Ah-Ah-Ah’s weakly. Hanbin’s thrusts slow a bit, but with the way he’s hitting that spot inside of you every time, you don’t really notice that much.

“Oh yeah, you like that so much, don’t you?”

“Please.” Is all you can manage, reaching up to hold his face with your hands, desperate for something to ground you as he begins to fuck into you at a faster speed again. Hanbin kisses you gently, a complete contrast from the way he’s moving inside of you and rubbing you and he’s never been like this before but you do–you like it so much.

His upper body comes to cover yours as he removes his hand from your clit, resting his elbows on either side of your head so he can see your face as you approach your high. “‘M close–”

“Cum for me,” he gets out, hips moving to provide you as much pleasure as possible, feeling himself near his orgasm as well. “Cum for me, I’m right behind you.”

You moan out his name loudly as you fall over the edge, nose pressed against his as his eyes stare into your own. Hanbin’s mouth drops open a bit as he feels you cum around him, burying himself inside of you as he releases as well. The warmth of his cum inside of you has you whimpering slightly, both of you breathing heavily as you catch your breath for a moment. Hanbin pulls out of you with a small ‘pop’– looking down to watch as his release leaks out of you.

A soft sob leaves your lips as his fingers gather the liquid, forcing it back into you. “Shh, shh, shh,” he shushes you, and you flinch at the overstimulation, hips jerking away from him a bit. Which he clearly doesn’t like, his hands pinning your hips down as he fits his length into you again.

“Don’t run away from it…” he trails off, leaning over to kiss you sweetly. “We want it to take, right? I don’t care if I have to handcuff you to the bed, ‘m gonna make sure you’re pregnant by tomorrow morning.” And when you feel Hanbin begin to weakly buck into you again, you know he’s not lying.

#⠀๑﹙ 𝓖entle愛𝓓aydreams ﹚ㅤ𝆬 ̼⠀﹗#lvlybin ☆ shb #zb1 smut #zb1 x reader #zerobaseone smut #zb1 #hanbin smut #hanbin x reader #zerobaseone x reader #zb1 hanbin x reader #zb1 hanbin #zb1 hanbin smut

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aphractal2 · 7 months

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hi i haven’t drawn in forever

concept: Icewing spikes are actually pin feathers. I was inspired by the scale to feather evolutionary theory.

i went down a rabbit hole. apparently there’s a gene called the Sonic Hedgehog (shh) gene that can actually trigger scaled areas in chickens to become feathers. which is funny to me because Icewings have a sonic hedgehog sort of silhouette going on.

this would only apply if you considered dragons more avian than mammalian ig.

#art #procreate #digital art #artists on tumblr #sketch #drawing #dragon #dragon art #wings of fire #wof #speculative biology

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loveinhawkins · 1 year

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Sprawled across Steve’s couch, apropos of nothing, Robin says, “They’d be good Halloween costumes. Like, there’s three of us.”

Eddie blinks at her.

Robin blinks back, as if she’s being perfectly reasonable, as if she’s just continuing an ongoing conversation—when in reality, she’s been silently staring into space for the past minute.

“Buckley. Y’know I can’t actually read your mind, right?”

“Uh, no excuse,” Robin says disapprovingly. “Steve can do it just fine.”

“That’s a completely different—you do see how that’s—”

“It’s ‘cause Molly Pritchard,” Steve begins, in his honestly, catch up, Munson tone, “kept annoying the shit out of Robin—”

“Excuse me, that’s a blatant mischaracterisation and you know—”

“Annoying the shit out of you,” Steve repeats, undeterred.

Robin scoffs. “She kept going on, like, okay, we get it, you saw a Broadway show, whoop-de-doo—”

“Do I detect a note of jealousy, Buckley?” Eddie says, and hurriedly avoids Robin kicking him in the shin.

“No, she’s just completely detached from real life! Like, yeah, I’m sure Singin’ in the Rain was just wonderful, and oh, at the Gershwin, you say? Lucky you. Not all of us were having a positively darling Spring Break in New York, some of us were—” Robin breaks off, gesturing uncertainly before settling on, “Busy.”

“That’s one word for it,” Eddie says.

“Anyway, that wasn’t the—Molly Pritchard rambling on was just the, like, catalyst for—she wasn’t the point. The point is—” Robin stops again, flounders, then whacks Steve on the shoulder. “Steve, I had a point, where is it?”

“Halloween costumes,” Steve says patiently.

“Right! She reminded me, there’s, like, three leads right there. Sort of. We should do it, I’ve never really done group costumes before—”

“For the hypothetical Halloween party we haven’t been invited to,” Eddie points out.

“Shh, details. And they’re not, like, ridiculously complicated—Steve, you’ve definitely got a couple suits just lying around—”

“Why does that feel like an insult?” Steve asks the ceiling.

“But uh, Robin,” Eddie says, “I thought you hated wearing heels?”

A deafening silence.

“Well,” Robin replies eventually. “I don’t know what bright idea you’ve got going on in your head, Eddie Munson, but I’m gonna be Gene Kelly.”

Steve chuckles. “Attagirl,” he says, raising his drink in approval.

He’s drinking coke out of a wine glass—according to Steve, it suits him. Eddie half-hates the fact that he’s right.

“And then the only thing we’d have to really look out for would be tap shoes, and we could—”

“Woah, hold your horses,” Steve says. “We’re definitely getting kicked outta the hypothetical party.”

“Why?” Eddie says. “Does Hawkins hate musicals now, too?”

“Tap shoes,” Steve says, as if Eddie’s being particularly dense. “Dude, we’re gonna, like, immediately scratch up the floor. We could only walk on carpet, and then what’s the point of wearing tap shoes in the first—”

“That’s… a very specific problem,” Eddie says.

“Yeah,” Robin says with narrowed eyes. “Very specific.”

Steve shifts in his seat. “No, it’s not. I just—I just know things, sometimes. Sue me.”

“Yeah, you do,” Robin says. Her eyes are still narrowed. “You know many things, Steve. But why do you know this particular—”

“I just do! There’s no—”

“I think,” Robin declares, “we should all put on our deerstalkers—”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Jesus Christ, I regret ever introducing you to Dustin.”

“—to figure out exactly why you know that.”

Robin looks at Eddie pointedly.

Eddie assesses Steve, then shrugs. “Uh, he’s really protective over floorboards?”

Steve’s veneer of exasperation completely melts away; he snorts, and Eddie pretends he doesn’t feel the achievement flutter in his chest.

“Hopeless,” Robin says, stretching out languidly. “Completely and utterly—”

She sprints out of the room.

“Wha—Robin,” Steve says indignantly, but he’s laughing, jumps up from the couch and grins at Eddie as if to say come on, then. “Get back here!”

Eddie laughs too, following Steve up the stairs, into his bedroom, where Robin’s pulling things out of the closet with gleeful abandon.

“if my theory is correct…” she says, head barely visible.

“You really have been spending too much time with Dustin,” Steve mutters.

“Aha!”

And Robin emerges with a shoebox in her hands, and she’s opening it up, tossing out tissue paper, and then—

Steve groans.

Eddie’s lips twitch. “Oh.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Steve says entirely without heat.

“I was right,” Robin crows. She holds the little pair of tap shoes as if they’re made of glass. “Steve. Steve.”

“Oh, you can shut up, too.”

“They’re precious.”

“No, they’re not—”

“Eddie’ll back me up, won’t you, Eddie?” Robin says sweetly.

Steve gives him a faux warning look. “Don’t encourage her, man.”

And Eddie has a joke right on the tip of his tongue, he swears he does, but his eyes are fixed on the goddamn shoes, and he can’t stop his fond smile from showing; his heart does a weird but not unpleasant skip in his chest, and what comes out is—

“You were tiny.”

Steve flushes. “What, did you think I just popped into existence at school?”

“Sometimes,” Eddie says, tongue-in-cheek.

Steve chuckles, face still red; Eddie’s heart sings.

Robin’s placing the tap shoes back into their box, oh so carefully. “Steve, please tell me there’re photos of—oh, there are,” she says triumphantly, as Steve groans again. “You gonna show us? Please?” “Uh, no,” Steve says firmly—and oh, Eddie thinks, that absolutely means he’s gonna cave by the time dawn peeks through the curtains and show them a whole damn album.

Robin seems to know this too, because she beams before setting off again, this time beckoning them, “Come on, come on! We can practice in our socks so we won’t scratch the precious floor, Steve.”

“Uh, practice?” Eddie asks.

“The choreography, duh.”

“Wait,” Steve says, “how do you even remember the—”

“The Hawk showed it once. They did a whole classic movies theme sometimes.”

Eddie vaguely remembers that: the theme ended with a showing of It’s A Wonderful Life on Christmas Eve.

And they give a hilariously bad attempt at the choreography, laughing at their socks muffling the sound of their heavy footsteps.

They wobble precariously on the top of the couch, spill coke all down the back of it. Every so often, Eddie notices that Steve’s hand is holding onto his shoulder for balance, for a little longer than is strictly necessary.

And he feels…

Light. Giddy.

God, it’s the most fun he’s had in years.

#i just think they should get to be so silly #steve and robin and eddie fic #eddie and robin #steve and robin #steve and robin and eddie ficlet #pre steddie #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #robin buckley #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie

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renranram · 4 months

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Hi darlll super love your stories!!!!! huhu even though its so short it's enough to keep me fed for a whole week HAHAHAHA.

That aside I kinda have another suggestion do take your time! Always take breaks, you don't have to write as soon as you see this🫶 (just tryna keep the schlatt community alive/j)

Anyways what about schlatt with either a preggy or reader with a newborn baby (like they just gave birth orrr it's a nephew? cause SCHLATT HANDLING KIDS IN HIS INTERN VID WAS SO SWEET AJSHSH) or maybeee baby accidentally shows themselves on screen with jambo and burnt soup following them (sorry if it's so long LMAO)

Ps. Holding rammy or something eehehehehe... Also genuinely don't know if I skipped your rules etc but yeah I hope this is comfortable for u to write 🫶

Dad Schlatt

sfw

new dad schlatt trying to take care of your daughter!

( a/n; COME BACK OF THE YEAR LET'S GOOO 🗣️🗣️🗣️ ill also post more later 👍🏻 )

jay sighs, watching you two, his treasure, fall asleep in bed, you facing your toddler, your baby girl, he looked at you with admiring eyes, he can't help but catch himself smiling

he can't believe your daughter will be 3 in a few weeks, he still remembers everything, “ jay- oh my god.. im so sorry for interrupting the r-recording… but i think.. i think she's coming out “ you burst into his room, recording an episode of chuckle sandwich, deep in pain as you hold tightly on your stomach

“ holy shit “ schlatt immediately rushes to you, not minding the recording anymore, “ my water broke “ you mumble at him as he caresses your cheek, “ okay, we'll be okay, let's go to the car “ he tries to reassure you, panicking himself, gently lifting you up, bridal style as he carefully rushes downstairs

during the ride to the hospital schlatt kept his hand with yours, holding you tightly as you tried to calm yourself, moaning in pain, “ im so sorry toots, it'll be okay, just take a deep breath, yeah? “ his thumb caressing your knuckles, stealing a peck

after you arrive the man patiently waited outside of the operation room, waiting for you to be okay and your little angel to be born, clenching his hands as he takes deep breaths, pacing back in forth, his anxiety rising up

and after hours of waiting schlatt immediately rushes in when he hears you've been admitted to a room, “ toots? toots? how are you? you alright? “ he approaches you, caressing your hair, you chuckling softly, “ im fine jay “ your hands intertwine, as you peck his knuckle

“ i wish you could've seen her… she's so pretty “ you whisper, a bit weak due to birthing just a few minutes ago, schlatt couldn't help but sigh in relief, “ yeah?, im guessing she took her mother's genes “ he smiles at you, endearingly, jay softly pecking your cheek

you could only giggle, as the nurse enters your room, “ how are you feeling darling? “ she gently asks, checking your vitals, before facing jay, “ you can watch your pretty princess on the nursery now “

“ baby, why don't you see her? “ you suggest, smiling softly, “ but toots, what about you? “ schlatt asks, wary to leave you even for just a minute, “ awh don't worry sweetie, i’ll look after her “ the nurse, with the nametag of sarah, smiles at him reassuringly

“ now shh go “ you gently pat his butt as he steals a quick forehead peck, “ alright… be careful yeah? “ he hums slowly leaving the room

as he walked towards the nursery, a small smile came to his face, seeing the newborn children inside, finding children, adorable, his eyes tries to look for your daughter, ‘ loreine schlatt ‘, his eyes sparkle in affection, seeing your baby laying in the crib, a pink bonnet on her hair, with a matching pink blanket

“ jesus fuck… im a dad now “ schlatt breathes out, leaning closer to the glass window, “ my pretty little girl “ he whispers staring at his daughter through the glass, his chest getting warmer every second

after a week, you're finally released from the hospital, and god, did anyone warn you how stressful it is to be parents?

schlatt decided to take a break from youtube, to finally focus on you two, he was amazing at it, managing to look out for his healing wife and his… crybaby of a daughter

as the two of you cuddle, schlatt hums, finding rest for a bit, watching your chest rise and fall, as you snore quietly, he chuckles softly, fixing your hair with his featherlight touch hoping not to wake you up

and that's was his rest, as loreine, yells and sobs, the man sighs, tiredly sitting up as he glances at his alarm, 3:45 am, he groans softly before approaching your daughter's room, already having a miniature fridge on her room to avoid rushing downstairs to make milk

“ you like interrupting daddy’s rest, no? “ jay baby talks your daughter as she wails, her tiny chubby hands wavering around as he gently lifts her up, cradling her, “ you got your mother's mouth, loud “ he jokes, gently grabbing her milk, guiding it to her mouth

humming a song as he moves back and forth slowly, hoping to calm her down, “ it's 3 in the morning and my tiny lady is bothering mee “ he said in a sing song way, gently caressing her cheek with his finger, “ i can't believe i made you “ he whispers, smiling

his baby talking slowly calms your daughter down, sucking the shit out of her milk as she cooes

“ i can't believe, one day, you'll grow up and have a boyfriend, then you're gonna leave daddy “ he playfully scolds your daughter, before noticing burnt soup and jambo entering the room, meowing, “ you guys are awake too? “ he asks, chuckling, “ she's a pretty loud sibling isn't she? “ he jokes

noticing loreine finally gone back to sleep, he gently puts her back down on the crib, switching the milk for a pacifier, as soup and jambo look at your daughter, as if guarding her, “ you two gonna be her guards now? “ he kneels down, gently petting jambo and soup, “ then you better take care of her alright? she's grow up and take care of you two too “ he smiles

before standing up, stretching, eyeing up a rammie plushie of his, the first of it's kind, before gently setting it next to his daughter, smiling as he watches loreine immediately hugs it

#chuckle sammy #chuckle sandwich #jschlatt #schlatt #sleep deprived podcast #schlatt fanfic #jschlatt x reader #jschlatt x you #schlatt x reader #schlatt x y/n #schlatt fluff #jschlatt fanfic #jschlatt x y/n

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shakespeareanwannabe · 2 months

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As You Wish, Chapter 16

Summary: When arriving at Camp Silver Star, Abby Floyd was anticipating a summer of adventure with an ocean separating her from the three people she loved most: her mom, her Uncle Bob and her Aunt Natasha. But after a run in with Charlie Seresin, an extremely familiar looking and irritating camper in a different cabin, her summer plans take a turn that neither girl ever could have expected.

Trigger Warnings: reader's children are described as being blond with green eyes because genetics are wild and Jake's genes are strong, reader is canonically Bob's sister (but biological relation is never discussed), reader goes by Buttercup and is tattooed, references to sex and sexual acts (but nothing is explicit), drinking, longing, reference to divorce, kids doing sneaky things, references to pregnancy and hormones

Jake’s Apartment, Coronado, almost 13 years ago

“Fucking rain,” Jake mumbled, navigating his truck into the closest parking spot he could to the front door of his apartment complex. Beside him, wrapped in a beach towel and soaked to the bone, Buttercup giggled, watching the rain stream down the windshield.

“It’s fine, baby.” She reached over to run a soothing hand through his damp hair. “Not even you can control the weather.”

“Maybe, but I promised you a picnic and now I’m a man who can’t keep his promises.” Jake parked the truck and looked at her. “I never break my promises, Buttercup.”

“Shh, baby, I know,” she grinned at him, gently running her nails over his scalp and the back of his neck. “But nothing says we can’t have a picnic in your apartment.”

“With what food?” Most of the food he had prepared had been opened and gotten rained on when dark clouds had moved surprisingly quickly over the ocean and released their downpour upon the unsuspecting beachgoers. “The only thing that didn’t get ruined is dessert.”

“So?” Buttercup giggled at his forlorn expression. “Our little ones are kinda craving one of Daddy’s grilled cheese sandwiches now anyway.”

At that, Jake’s expression melted. He still couldn’t believe it. Twins. He was gonna be a dad to twins, and what was even better? His Buttercup was their mom. They had found out less than a month ago, and yet everything had changed. All his extra cash was going towards finding a house for them, save for the money he had tucked away for this special occasion. He’d put in all the necessary paperwork with the top brass so that they could do their damndest not to deploy him around her due date and afterwards. Jake Seresin had never thought about being a father, but now that it was happening, he was going to do everything in his power to be the best father he possibly could be to the two little lives he and Buttercup were bringing into the world.

“Alright,” he sighed, reaching down to grab the umbrella he had stashed there. “I suppose I can do that for Mama and our nuggets.”

“Mama and our nuggets thank you, Daddy,” she grinned, moving to open her door.

“Wait, wait,” he huffed, sliding out of his truck and racing over to her side to open her door, popping the umbrella open so that she wouldn’t get any wetter than she already was. “There. Now, let’s get inside before you melt, sugar.”

Buttercup groaned. “That was terrible, baby.”

“What? I’m gonna be a dad. I’m allowed to make dad jokes.” Even six months ago, he wouldn’t have been caught dead making lame jokes like Rooster or Payback, but Buttercup really had changed him.

Shaking her head, Buttercup grabbed the picnic basket and followed him into the apartment complex, leaning into his side as they rode the elevator up to his floor.

Once safe inside, both raced to get changed. Buttercup grabbed one of Jake’s Navy T-shirts and a pair of his gym shorts before going into the bathroom to change and fix her hair. Once the door closed completely, Jake took the small velvet box out of his jeans pocket and put it safely on the dresser before changing into a pair of grey sweatpants and a gym tank, then safely tucked the box into his pocket again.

“Darlin’, I’m gonna go get started on those sandwiches!” he called.

“Wait!” Buttercup emerged, looking playfully disappointed in him. “House rules, baby. You need me with you.”

He grinned and wiggled his fingers at her. “C’mon then. Those babies aren’t gonna wait all day.”

Buttercup followed him into the kitchen where he gently lifted her onto the countertop next to the stove. He kissed her once, twice, then bent to kiss the barely there bump of her abdomen, before gathering all the necessary materials to make grilled cheese.

As he cooked, they talked. About everything. The babies, work, her brother, his family, their friends. Jake couldn’t remember a time he had talked so much, laughed so much. He’d always reveled in his solitude, excepting maybe Javy, who had been with him for so long that he wasn’t an intrusion to his peace. But Buttercup made him crave her presence. He could barely make it through a day without her, and he had no clue how he would manage when he was deployed again. He wanted to be around her always, which was partially why he had that velvet box in his pocket.

Jake plated up the sandwiches and, before he could warn her, she had scooped one up and taken a big bite.

“Hot!” she screeched. “Hot, hot, hot!”

Jake couldn’t help but laugh. “Every time, darlin’. You do it every time.” He waved his hand in front of her mouth, wafting away the steam.

“And every time it’s worth it,” she grinned at him, and he felt something shift in his stomach.

“Oh yeah? What else is worth it?”

She tilted her head quizzically but shrugged. “Taking showers with you even though it takes us twice as long to get ready. Getting up with you at freaking balls a.m. so you can head to early morning flight exercises, just so I can get my morning kiss and see you before you leave for the day. Putting up with your stubborn, arrogant ass because that stubborn, arrogant ass is so damn fine.” She giggled as she spanked him lightly. “I don’t know, Jake. Everything about you and me feels pretty damn worth it.”

He swallowed down his nerves, his stomach feeling as thought he had just hit Mach speed. “Yeah? So worth it that you might want to do it forever?”

Buttercup blinked at him, tears welling in her eyes. “Are you asking?”

Hand slightly shaking, Jake pulled the velvet blue box out of his pocket and held it at her eye level. “Buttercup, I think I’ve loved you since the moment you tapped me out at the 32nd Street Naval Station four months ago. Ever since that day, you’ve made me a better man. I’m a better teammate because you taught me how to deal with people and put my ego aside. I’m a better aviator because I want to come home to you. I’m a better friend because you’ve shown me what true friendship is. And I hope I’ve become a man who deserves you not only now, but 50 years in the future when we’re both old and grey. I’m not asking you this because you’re carrying my babies. I’m asking you this because I want to spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you make me. So, darlin’, do you think it would be worth it to marry me?”

To her credit, Buttercup didn’t even look down at the glimmering diamond ring shining in the box. No, her tear-filled eyes were trained solely on him, filled with love and wonder.

“Yeah, baby,” her voice trembled. “I think marrying you, Jake Seresin, would be so worth it.”

Jake laughed, fighting back the tears that were threatening to fall. Now wasn’t the time to cry. “As you wish, darlin’.” Jake pulled the ring out of the box and fitted it onto her finger with a deep kiss, everything else fading away.

Seresin Ranch, Clifton, Texas, Now

“You want to go back?” Buttercup couldn’t keep the panic from her voice. She’d been relieved beyond a shadow of a doubt when she had discovered that Jake had retired from the Navy, that Charlie had her dad home with her 24/7/365. But he wanted to go back? She shook her head. She should have known better than to trust that he was home for good. Jake loved flying, more than anything else in the world. He only gave it up because Charlie was a baby. Now that she was older, he could go back.

“Buttercup, please…”

“Why didn’t you tell me that you wanted to go back?” she asked sharply, finally turning around to meet his stare.

Jake felt a flame alight in his chest and he shot back, “I didn’t think I owed you an explanation.”

Buttercup blinked, shrinking back from him slightly to lean against the counter. “You’re right…” she whispered. “After the divorce, you don’t owe me anything. We only owe everything to our children. Do they know?”

Jake sighed, rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand. “No, they don’t know. Nobody knows.”

Buttercup’s chest felt like it was going to cave in, though from grief or anger, she wasn’t sure. “Right…great…”

Jake took off his baseball cap and fiddled with the brim in an uncharacteristic moment of vulnerability. “Look, I didn’t mean what I said. You deserve an explanation, I just…” his voice trailed off, and Buttercup suddenly had a vision of a teenage Jake, trying and failing to get himself out of trouble with his parents. She wasn’t used to fumbling, nervous Jake. She was more used to brash, bold, arrogant Hangman. She had fallen for both sides of him, but now the shyer, quieter side of him was just in her way.

“Just what?” Buttercup tapped her foot impatiently. “You just didn’t want to tell me? You just didn’t think I’d care?”

“I never thought you’d find out!” he nearly growled, slamming his hat down on the counter and stepping towards her, not as an intimidation tactic, she realized, but so that she could see the earnestness in his eyes. “Yes, I put some feelers out to see what it would take to go back in six years. Why? Because in six years, Charlie plans to go to California to study veterinary medicine. When Charlie graduates high school, Rooster is planning on moving to Austin and opening his own restaurant. Javy’s already got college recruiters sniffing around. Not the players, but him. They want him to go coach college level ball if the Cougars keep doing well, which they will because he’s a damn good coach. Louisiana State is keeping their eye on him, and he’s pretty keen on going. Within six years, this place is gonna be empty, and it sure doesn’t need me to run it. Cathy and Cliff, our ranch managers, do a better job of running the joint than I ever could. All they need me for is signing the checks.” Jake’s chest heaved. “You’re across an ocean giving TED Talks and having your books turned into movies, and I’m sitting here on my ass, twiddling my thumbs. Flying is the only thing I could see myself doing again, so when I met General Beaumont on the golf course, I mentioned it to him. He told me to talk it out with his daughter, Savannah, and that if she thought I was worth his time, he might be willing to pull some strings and get me back in.” Jake’s eyes were wide, almost begging her to understand. “I don’t regret retiring when I did. I’d do it again in a heartbeat. Hell, I’d do it sooner if I thought it meant keeping our family together. But now…I don’t know, sweetheart, when I was faced with the prospect of being an empty nester, I panicked. I don’t know if I want to go back or what I’ll do in six years, but I didn’t want you to find out until I was sure, and I sure as hell didn’t want you to find out through Simpson.” Jake met her gaze, the forest green sparkling as they revealed to her how sincere he was being. “Can you say something? Please?” he murmured, taking a step closer.

“I…”

“Mum? Dad?”

Buttercup nearly groaned in relief. Jake had just laid everything bare at her feet, and she didn’t know how to respond, though she knew that she had to, so Abby’s interruption was a welcome relief.

“Yeah, babe?” she called back, peeking around Jake’s shoulder to see her daughter standing at the French doors, Charlie a few feet behind her.

“We want to go in the pool again, but Reuben and Maryanne said we needed to ask you for permission first.”

Buttercup sighed, but it was Jake who responded. “Sure thing, kiddo. I’ll be right there to watch you.”

Abby nodded, peering at them suspiciously before closing the doors behind her.

“Jake, I—”

“It’s alright, Buttercup,” his grin wasn’t as wide or as bright as it had been in the recent days. “Just promise me we can talk about this later?” She couldn’t help but nod. “Alright. Thank you. I’ll go keep an eye on the kids, okay?”

She nodded, unable to meet his eyes. “I’ll clean up the mess we made so that nobody slips and breaks their neck.”

“Thank you.” He nodded and left, swinging the double doors closed behind him as Buttercup grabbed a towel and crouched behind the island.

Her mind was spinning, and she forced herself to take a few calming breaths, just like her yoga instructor always told them. Jake wanted to go back to the Navy…but he didn’t. He said that he would’ve gotten out of the Navy earlier if it would have kept their family together, but he hadn’t. He didn’t seem to know what he wanted, and who could blame him? They’d been forced into this situation by two blackmailing almost-12-year-old girls. It wasn’t like he had looked her up or she had searched for him. Perhaps if they had sought each other out, it would feel different, but, as it was, she didn’t know how to feel either.

Buttercup sighed and continued mopping up the remnants of their water war when she heard the double doors click open.

“…would you just slow down and talk to me?” That was Javy’s voice, more desperate than she had ever heard him.

“Talk to you about what?” Natasha’s voice was a mere hiss.

“This! Us! How you can’t even look me in the eye? How you’re so angry I’m a little surprised there’s not legit steam coming out of your ears right now? Take your pick!”

Natasha growled in frustration. “Of course, I’m angry! You fucking proposed to me while I was lying, half blind in a hospital bed!”

“I was trying to show you that I was all in!” Javy huffed. “Your career was coming to an end, we’d talked before about how scared we both were of something bad happening, and I wanted to show you that I’d stick with you, no matter what!”

Natasha scoffed. “We’d only been hooking up for like three months! What made you think that asking me to marry you was a good idea?”

Javy was quiet for a moment. “Is that all it was to you? Hooking up?”

Buttercup heard the telltale sound of Natasha’s feet shuffling on the hardwood. “Well…yeah? Because that’s what it was, right?”

Javy loosed a scornful chuckle. “Wow…sure, Phoenix. If that’s what you want to call it, then fine. We were only hooking up.”

Natasha scoffed again. “Well, what would you call it? We never went out.”

“Because we were always going out as a group.”

“Well, we never said we were exclusive.”

Buttercup could practically hear Javy roll his eyes. “We spent every moment of every day together, Phoenix. I’d say that’s pretty exclusive. And I never saw you take anyone else home with you on our night’s out.”

“What? Were you stalking me, you creep?”

“I noticed everything you did because I was so fucking in love with you that I couldn’t stand it!” Javy shouted. “And I was clearly an idiot for thinking that we were on the same page!”

Phoenix’s breath stuttered in the silence. “Y-yeah, well…if you loved me so damn much, then why did you disappear after I turned you down?”

“Oh, forgive me for taking a few days to lick my wounds,” Javy’s sarcasm bit into the air the way the floorboards were biting into Buttercup’s knees and palms. If they didn’t quit arguing soon, she was going to need to stand, and that would just lead to more questions that she didn’t have the emotional bandwidth to answer. “You said no, screamed at me to fuck off, and went AWOL the second they discharged you. You didn’t even come to Mav’s funeral. I got the message loud and clear that you wanted nothing to do with me. Besides, Jake needed a hand with Charlie, so I followed him back here, just like you followed Buttercup to London.”

Natasha went quiet for a moment before murmuring. “Bob brought me to London. I wasn’t doing too hot on my own, depressed and shit after the accident, and Bob got worried, so he dragged me to London with them. Got me and Buttercup help and helped take care of Abby.” Natasha sniffed. “I woulda called once I was feeling better, but I figured you hated me, so I never bothered.”

Javy sighed. “I get it. We can’t change the past…but do you think you can stop biting my head off?”

“Yeah…okay.”

“Thank you…” Javy’s flipflops squeaked against the floor as he started for the door. “And Buttercup, you can get up now. Jake and the girls are looking for you.” The doors clicked shut and Natasha sighed before leaning around the island and leaning down to offer her friend a hand.

It was a testament to their friendship that Natasha didn’t comment on her predicament, instead opting to ask, “You good?”

Buttercup sighed as she stretched to her full height. “No. You?”

Natasha sighed and grabbed a beer. “Fuck no. Now c’mon. Your girls want s’mores.”

Despite the earlier argument, Buttercup’s sides hurt from laughing and her cheeks hurt from smiling by the time the sun started to set, bringing with it a rain shower that sent them all running into the living room. Hondo and Cyclone bowed out then, as did Penny and Amelia, both duos having early flights home in the morning. Payback and Maryanne ushered Richard and their daughter, Peggy, back to their cabin not long after, both kids yawning their protest as their parents bade their friends goodnight.

Rooster had drifted over to the piano at some point and was playing a soothing melody that matched the peaceful ambiance of the room. Javy and Buttercup were chatting quietly in the corner, while Jake, Fanboy and Natasha had convened on the couch.

Charlie and Abby were flaked out on the floor, watching the rain lash at the windows. Things had been weird ever since their dad had come back outside to watch them in the pool. He’d seemed quieter than normal, maybe even a bit sad, and when their mom had come out, she’d acted the same way. Now, they were in separate corners of the room, and that just wouldn’t do.

Charlie elbowed her sister lightly and nodded over at Rooster. The message was clear: Follow my lead.

“Hey, Uncle Roo…”

Rooster gazed at them over the rims over his glasses. “What do you want?” It wasn’t said unkindly, but it was said in a tone that screamed, “I know you want something so spit it out”.

“What was that song you used to play to help me sleep?” Charlie smiled sweetly.

“Why?” Rooster furrowed his brows at her.

“Well…you used to play it at the Hard Deck, right?”

Rooster nodded and Abby jumped in. “Don’t you think it would be fun if you played it right now? Y’know, for old times sake?”

Rooster’s gaze flitted between them. “Whatever scheme you two are trying to pull, I ain’t buying it.”

“No scheme!” they chorused, fingers crossed behind their backs. “We just thought it would be a nice way to end the evening.”

Rooster rolled his eyes and shifted his fingers, not believing them for one second, but they were his nieces and he was their uncle. If he wasn’t willing to do stupid shit for them, who was he supposed to do it for?

He banged out a few notes with practiced ease and started to sing. “You shake my nerves, and you rattle my brain!”

The adults immediately perked up, Javy cheering as Natasha and Fanboy started to sing along. Charlie and Abby raced to the carpet, dancing to the playful melody. As they twisted in each other’s arms, they could see their father peering hopefully in their mother’s direction, but she kept her eyes resolutely on her daughters. That is until a few beats later, when Buttercup glanced over at Jake, who was cheering along with Natasha and Javy. The girls sighed again as the song began to fade to an end too soon, but Rooster clearly had the same idea they did. He finished Great Balls of Fire with a bang before transitioning into something quieter, more romantic.

Javy and Fanboy “oooohed” loudly while Natasha shot Rooster a knowing look before elbowing Jake in the ribs.

Chuckling to himself, Jake stood and strode over to Buttercup, holding his hand out to her. “C’mon darlin’,” they heard him murmur before pulling their mother to her feet. “For old times sake.”

Buttercup found herself folding into Jake’s embrace like she had never left it. They’d always fit together like two puzzle pieces, his hand feeling at home at the base of her spine and her head fitting perfectly into the space between his neck and shoulder. His breath in her ear was the white noise she had been missing from her life, and tears welled unbidden in her eyes. This is what she had always wanted for herself. A sweet man (stubborn and arrogant as all hell, but kind in his soul and always towards her), children she adored, friends who were more like family, a career she loved. She’d had it all and thrown it away, and now she was getting a taste of what life might have been like if she’d been able to keep herself together.

She felt so safe in his arms. She always had; from the moment they had met. Even when everyone around her was telling her she was moving too fast with him, it had never occurred to her to slow down or stop. She’d felt safer with him than she ever had in her life and knew he would never hurt her. And to his credit, he never had. She’d gotten pregnant so quickly and he had never balked, never once taken a step back to consider things. He had only embraced her, proposed to her, planned their life together…and she had thrown it all away. She had been the one to hurt him. And now he was holding her so tight, like she was the most precious thing in his life, so willing to open himself up to be hurt again. It made her chest ache with longing to just take that step and let herself be safe with him again. But how could she? They wouldn’t be the only ones to get hurt this time. The girls…how could she be selfish and risk potentially hurting them?

She sighed and burrowed her face into his shoulder as they swayed, feeling him tighten his grip around her waist. She could allow herself a moment of selfishness. One dance wouldn’t hurt anyone.

Damn Rooster, Buttercup thought to herself as she tossed and turned in her bed later that night. He had just had to go and play the song they had danced to on their wedding night. It hadn’t even been a song they had picked; it was just the first slow song that had played at the bar they had gone to after Elvis had declared them married. Now she was too keyed up to sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Jake holding his hand out to her, asking her to dance. His face, his eyes, his smile all haunted her as she tried to rest.

They had been so happy when they got married, despite it being a shotgun wedding in Vegas. She’d been so elated to be Mrs. Seresin that she had practically floated around for weeks after. But then reality just had to set back in, and with it came deployments and work and arguments and baby appointments and then her post-partum depression, and it had fallen apart as quickly as they had built it.

Buttercup rolled over again with a groan and thumped her pillow. She was just making herself upset. She needed to calm down. Perhaps she had been in England for too long, but she felt the need for a cup of tea. Tea was good. Tea was soothing. Tea would send her to dreamland where she wouldn’t bemoan all the mistakes she had made with her ex-husband.

Buttercup slid out of bed and slipped on her slippers before treading quietly out of the room and down the stairs to the kitchen, where a dim light was shining. Peeking her head in, she saw Jake rummaging around in the fridge.

“Oh,” she murmured before she could stop herself. Without Nat and Maryanne there to bust her chops about it, she could admit that she was enjoying the view of his bare sculpted torso, his ass and thighs clad in a pair of gym shorts. He hadn’t changed much in the last decade. He still had the chiseled muscles and toned arms and legs. Perhaps he was a touch softer in places from age, but Buttercup certainly wasn’t complaining. It looked good on him.

“Hey Buttercup,” Jake greeted softly, well aware that it was 3 a.m. and the rest of the house was sleeping. His eyes roamed over her softly, taking in the oversized T-shirt and boxer shorts she wore, and he gulped. How was it possible that she looked better in this sleep ensemble than she had in her bikini? That wasn’t how that was supposed to work, and yet, for her, it did. “Couldn’t sleep?”

She shook her head, crossing her arms over her torso, all too aware that she was bare under her shirt and that parts of her sagged more than they did 12 years ago. “I was gonna make myself a cup of tea.”

A chuckle escaped Jake’s lips unbidden. “You sound like a real Brit, you know that?”

She felt blood rush to her cheeks in embarrassment, but shrugged and said, “I’ve been there for over a decade, Jake. Besides, if there’s one thing that the Brit’s have gotten right, it’s that tea really does cure everything. Insomnia, bad news, a bad day, heartbreak, awkward run-ins with an ex.”

Jake nodded slowly, a small understanding smile creeping onto his lips. “I’m having a bit of insomnia myself, but I was going to use the good ol’Hangman cure instead of tea.” He showed her the stack of cheese, butter, and sliced turkey that he had gathered in his arms. “Care to join me?” He laid the products on the counter and pulled a fresh loaf of bread towards him while Buttercup stared, mouth watering. “Buttercup?” He grinned at the look on her face.

“I haven’t had a grilled cheese in…well, probably since you made one for me,” she admitted in a quiet voice, remembering how his sandwiches were one of the things she had craved most while pregnant.

“Well, now that just won’t do.” His smile was teasing as he nodded his head towards the countertop. “Why don’t you take a seat and keep me company while the master gets to work?” Buttercup moved towards one of the island stools, but Jake shook his head. “C’mon now, darlin’, you know the rules.” He patted a bare patch of countertop space next to the stove. “Gotta have you close to keep me company.”

She felt her skin go hot to the touch with hesitancy and embarrassment. “Jake…don’t you think we’re both a little old to be sitting on countertops?”

Jake looked at her with fond exasperation and patted the countertop again. “There’s nothing old about us, darlin’. Besides, you don’t want me burning our sandwiches because I keep turning around to talk to you, do you?”

“Easy fix. Don’t turn around to talk to me.” She leaned against the island and watched him roll his eyes at her, trying to figure out how to get his way. Beautiful, stubborn pain in the ass.

“How am I supposed to do that when you’re so damn beautiful in my old Top Gun shirt?” he smirked, recognizing the logo now that she wasn’t cloaked in shadow. Buttercup could have sworn her heart stopped. She hadn’t even realized that it was his old shirt. At some point in their marriage, it had become her shirt and she had never stopped using it. Not that she would admit that to him. Nor would she admit that, in the early days of being divorced, she would wear it to sleep just to feel like he was wrapped around her.

He stepped closer and held his hand out to her. “C’mon, darlin’. I don’t bite.” He gently led her to the countertop and wrapped his hands around her waist, lifting her to perch on the edge of the marble. “There. Perfect,” he murmured, those green eyes of his tracing over the plains of her face with a small, sweet grin pulling on his lips.

“Jake…” she felt like her insides were on fire, and she didn’t know if she was calling for him to put out the fire or fan it to make it hotter, brighter.

“It’s okay, darlin’.” His voice was soft and honeyed, so unlike the voice he used with his friends and family. That was a voice that had always been reserved just for her. “Relax with me, just for an hour.”

Damn her inability to say no to him. “Get to work, Masterchef.”

His grin lit up his whole face and he took a step to the left to be standing in front of the stove again. In easy, quick movements, he had six slices of fresh sourdough bread spread out on the stovetop, buttered on one side and waiting to be assembled. Buttercup couldn’t help her giggle when she realized he was using cheap plastic wrapped cheese slices, and he flashed her a grin.

“C’mon now, Buttercup,” he admonished, his long fingers deftly unwrapping the cheese. “You know this shit melts better than anything else.”

“I know,” she giggled. “It’s just funny for me to think that you’re running this million-dollar enterprise of a ranch, I’m an award-winning novelist, and we’re eating the cheapest cheese imaginable.”

He grinned, turning a dial on the stove and pulling down a frying pan from the rack overhead. “How do you know it’s a million-dollar enterprise, Buttercup? I never told you that.”

She shrugged, watching him put the first slice of bread in the pan, then a slice of cheese, two thin slices of turkey, another slice of cheese, and then another slice of bread. Quickly, the smell of burning butter and toasting bread had her stomach growling. “I may have looked it up. The girls told me you lived on a ranch, but I wasn’t expecting something so grand, so I figured you had to be making a lot. I’m an author. I’m curious about the facts. Sue me.”

He chuckled, flipping the first sandwich over and listening to it sizzle. “I would’ve told you if you asked.”

“I know. I didn’t want to sound like some sort of gold digger.”

“Is it possible to be a gold digger if you’re already divorced?”

She shrugged, eyes tracing his flexing muscles as he flipped the sandwich again. “You might’ve thought I was after child support or alimony or something stupid like that.”

“Nah, I know we’re pretty even keel on finances anyway.” He flipped the sandwich once more and murmured softly, “Grab me a plate from the cabinet behind you?”

Buttercup hopped out of her seat and opened the cabinet, grabbing a plate and holding it out for him to place the sandwich on. “You want a beer?”

Jake nodded absentmindedly as she moved behind him, a gentle hand on his back so he wouldn’t back up into her. She grabbed ketchup and a beer out of the fridge before strolling back to his side and hopping back up onto the counter. The second sandwich was sizzling away when Jake sighed contentedly. “When was the last time we did this?” he murmured, eyes casting sideways to look at her, so damn beautiful in the dim light.

“3 a.m. grilled cheeses and beer?” She held the beer out and he twisted the cap off, tossing it to the side before taking a sip and handing it back. “Jesus…” She cast her mind back, sorting through all their memories, the gleeful and the painful. “Probably when I was pregnant. Before you got deployed.”

He remembered then, the night before he got the news that he was deploying while she was pregnant. She’d woken up in the middle of the night, absolutely ravenous for both him and food. After satiating her first need in bed, they had wandered into the kitchen of their brand-new house together, where she had perched on the countertop in just his t-shirt and watched him make grilled cheese sandwiches in just his boxer-briefs. He’d sipped on a beer while she drank Ginger Ale and they laughed and talked and ate and, when they were done the sandwiches, he had taken her again over the kitchen table before they had stumbled back to the bedroom, satisfied and deliriously happy.

A wistful ache bloomed in Jake’s chest at the memory. He absentmindedly rubbed at it as he plated up the second sandwich and started on the third. “That was a good night,” he sighed. “I’m glad we had that before it all went to shit.”

Buttercup sipped their beer and nodded. “Me too.” At the time, she’d been convinced that they could live in that happy bubble for the rest of their lives. She knew better now. “It wasn’t all bad after though, was it?” She handed him the beer again.

Jake sipped thoughtfully. “No…I guess it wasn’t. We had me coming home, the twins being born, and a few good months before…” He couldn’t bring himself to say it, so passed the beer bottle back to her. “But that was the beginning of the end.”

Buttercup sighed. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t?”

She shrugged. “Saying it like that makes it sound like an inevitability. I don’t think it was. If I had just kept my shit together, we probably would’ve made it.”

“It wasn’t all your fault though, Buttercup.” Jake took the beer bottle and drained it in one gulp, but it tasted like ash in his mouth. “I was an asshole. I expected you to just follow me wherever I ended up, and that wasn’t fair. You were right. You deserved to be able to follow your dreams too, and the kids needed more stability than that. I just didn’t want to admit it because that would mean admitting that the way I grew up wasn’t ideal. It was all I knew, and I was a stubborn jackass for not admitting that I was wrong.” Jake saw her gaping at him out of his peripheral and laughed. “Javy forced me to go to therapy after about six months of me trying to strong arm my way through the whole single dad thing.” He shrugged and plated up the final sandwich, clicking off the stove and turning to face her. “Who knew?”

She chuckled under her breath. “Who knew…” She picked up the fresh sandwich and took a bite.

“Careful, it’s gonna be—” Buttercup muttered a muffled curse around the bite of bread and cheese, steam billowing from her mouth. “Hot.” He couldn’t help the laughter that poured out of him. “Some things never change.” He started fanning his hand over her mouth as she chewed on the sandwich. She had never been able to resist taking a bite too soon after the sandwiches came off the stove.

“I’m okay…” Buttercup gasped as she swallowed the steaming sandwich. Jake was still laughing, the sound reverberating in her chest like the sweetest bell.

“Was it at least worth it?” he grinned, picking up one of the cooler sandwiches and leaning against the counter beside her, so close her legs were brushing his.

“You’re still the master,” she mumbled through a full mouth, bringing a bright smile to his face. “Don’t tell Rooster I said that, though.”

Jake rolled his eyes and bit into his sandwich. “Bastard would probably put grilled cheese on the menu of his restaurant just to spite me.”

“Doesn’t mean it would be as good as yours though. Nothing beats a Hangman grilled cheese and beer at 3:30 in the morning.” His answering grin was strained slightly, and she swallowed, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Jake, I’m sorry I went off on you about wanting to rejoin the Navy. It was none of my business.” As loathe as she was to admit it, it was true. It wasn’t any of her business because they weren’t together.

But Jake was already shaking his head, hand covering his mouth as he spoke through a mouthful of sandwich. “No, you were right.” He swallowed and gave her a wan grin. “You deserved to know, even if nothing was going to come out of it. You deserve to know where your daughters’ father is, even if…if we’re not together.” He had to fight back the words he truly wanted to say: Even if we’re not going to get back together.

The thought had been on his mind ever since he saw her drinking at the pool cabana, Savannah be damned. Seeing her had been a shock to his system, in the way that a defibrillator shocks your heart into working properly. And now, after a week of being in close quarters, he didn’t want it to end. He felt good around her. Better than he had in over a decade. He was happier, the girls were happier. Family dinners and pool parties and Friday night football games had all become brighter, more meaningful moments in his week. He genuinely liked being at home, working on the ranch, co-coaching with Javy when she was around. All the dull, mundane aspects of his life had taken on new meaning with his Buttercup around, but she hadn’t given him any sign that she wanted it too.

“I get why you would want to…” Buttercup tore the last sandwich in two and handed him the bigger half. “It’s not easy to think about life six years from now, when the girls will be off to college or university or whatever they want to do with their lives. But you’re more than just an aviator, or a rancher, or a football coach. You’re more than just a father too. I wish…” Buttercup swallowed nervously, but pressed on, needing him to hear her since she hadn’t been brave enough to say the words 12 years ago. “I wish you could see what I see, Jake. Beyond the stubbornness and prickish vibe you like to give off, I wish you could see the kindness. The way you care about people makes them care about you, respect you. You inspire loyalty and you make people want to follow their own dreams by showing them what bravery looks like. I…I never would have published my first book without everything I learned from you about going after what I want. I just…” She pushed past the tears clogging her throat. “I just wish that going after what I wanted hadn’t cost me you.”

Jake was there in an instant, cupping her cheeks and wiping away the few tears that had started to fall. “Hey, hey…shh, darlin’, you’re alright. You…” He sighed and let his hand slip down to rest on her neck, feeling her pulse quicken beneath his thumb. “You’re so much more than a mother, than my wife. I wish I had been able to see it, admit it, before it cost me you. If I had just pulled my head outta my ass, then maybe…maybe we’d still be together.”

Shaky hands landed on his shoulders as she rested her forehead against his. “Falling apart wasn’t inevitable…we both fucked it up. I really wish we hadn’t.”

He shifted, heartbeat quickening as his nose brushed hers. “Buttercup…” He could feel the heat of her skin under his palms, the way her heart was racing, the soft floral scent of her perfume toying with his nose, and it was overwhelming in the best way possible.

“Jake…” Her fingers toyed with the short blonde strands at the back of his neck as he pressed her closer to the cabinet, his hand dropping from her neck to her waist to tug her closer.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, nuzzling along her nose and breathing in that floral scent that had always driven him mad.

Buttercup opened her eyes slightly, taking in his golden skin and green eyes and everything that she had missed so deeply. She knew he was giving her an out, letting her walk away and protect herself, but she wanted to continue being selfish. Just for a few more minutes.

“Kiss me before we’re interrupted again, Seresin.”

A low groan rumbled through his chest as he lurched forward, lips clashing against hers in a desperate, needy thing. Years of missing her and a solid week of pent-up passion consumed him as his arm around her waist tightened, dragging her so close there wasn’t space for even air between them.

Buttercup gasped at the feel of him against her, every inch of his hard body against the softness of hers. Jake took advantage, slipping his tongue into her mouth and nearly groaning at the warmth and taste of her. Buttercup tugged his hair lightly, maneuvering his head so she could kiss him harder, deeper. His hand left her cheek and pressed against the cabinet to balance them both.

Desperation and longing and frustration poured off of them in waves as they clutched each other closer, kissed deeper, hands roaming. Buttercup couldn’t help herself as she traced a hand down his chest and abs, a thrill running through her as she touched what she had been admiring all day. Jake’s hand was just creeping beneath her shirt when she pulled away with a gasp.

“Fuck,” Jake groaned, hand on her waist pressing her closer again. “Sorry…”

“Don’t be,” she mumbled against his lips, sneaking in a small kiss before pulling away again. “Just…don’t want anyone to catch us.”

Jake moaned at the very thought and, in one move, had her bundled in his arms, her arms and legs wrapped around him as he kissed her again and carried her down the hallway to his bedroom.

Buttercup didn’t let herself think beyond one fleeting thought as Jake’s bedroom door swung closed behind them. One night of selfishness wouldn’t hurt anyone.

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